Page 72 of Sinbound to the Highlander
He sent a message to Laird Lobhdain, excusing him from the search that day, stating that he had to take care of Freya, but assuring him that his men would be on the ground searching. He lingered in his father’s study, contemplating his next move.
If Elspeth was indeed in his bed, the only way to prove it was to trick her into revealing herself. The snow was falling in thick clumps, and he wouldn’t be surprised to know there was some hail mixed in. In a few hours, there would be a blizzard on their hands. Turning back to the door, he left the room.
Freya might have spilled some of her secrets to Elspeth, but I doubt she told them all.
At his cracked-open door, Evan paused as he heard whispering inside. Knocking first before he pushed the door in, he saw Freya seated in a familiar deep-green dress and her maid beside her. The moment her eyes rested on him, the maid scooted away—somewhat guiltily, he noticed.
“Evan,” she exclaimed. “I kent ye were gone.”
“I almost left,” Evan said, “But then, I remembered ye need me too. Me men can handle all that is needed at the loch. Care to take a walk with me?”
“O…of course,” she almost sputtered, but stood and brushed her skirts off.
Offering his arm, Freya took it, and he nodded to the maid, “Miss.”
“Where are we going?” Freya asked.
“Somewhere familiar to ye,” Evan said. “The healing hall. I ken our head healer would like to see ye. As our men are diving the loch to find yer sister, ye can help her devise a concoction to save our men from consumption, if they do contract it.”
A flash of—panic, distress, worry—crossed Freya’s face, and if Evan’s eyes had not been trained on her, he would have missed it.
“Oh, I daenae ken they need me help,” Freya said flippantly. “I’m sure they can handle it without me.”
“Mayhap,” Evan said as he pushed the door in and breathed in the herb-tinted air. “Wouldnae hurt to have more help.”
“Oh, welcome back, Miss Crushom,” Missus Delilah greeted as she came around the corner, her hand filled with a small mortar and pestle. “Happy to have ye. I’m just finishing a few remedies for the divers. Do ye have any in mind?”
Clearing her throat, Freya asked, “What have ye already kent of?”
“Garlic soup is our main choice,” the healer said. “But what do ye ken of ginger tea?”
“I…I ken that would be good,” Freya stumbled over her words. Her eyes were darting around, as if she was searching for something. Evan tensed, ready to have his suspicions justified when she staggered him.
When she spoke, her voice was hesitant, “Perhaps some Ground Ivy leaves if ye have it in stock?”
The woman nodded, “Aye, was kenning the same.”
She got it right—Missus Delilah agreed with her. But how could that be? Am I even sure this isnae Freya anymore?
Watching them speak—where admittedly the head healer did most of the talking—he began to doubt himself. The timidity he saw with Freya certainly did resonate with her character, but he had seen her grow out of it. She was not the wilting flower he had seen at first—and she had always obeyed him after he had asked her not to shy away from him. But she was doing it again.
Has Elspeth’s accident had such an effect on her?
Clearing his throat, Evan stepped in while the two had a lull, “If ye would excuse us, Miss Delilah.”
“O’ course, Me Laird,” the woman smiled. “Wonderful to have ye again, Miss Crushom.”
What else is there that I can try?
Leading her back into the castle, he asked, “Would ye mind seeing me Maither for a moment?”
Her sigh was profound, and her smile tight, “On any other time, I would, but I’d like to rest now.”
“I understand,” Evan said, holding back the frustration from his voice. “Let me take ye back to me rooms.”
It did not take long to get to his chambers, but as he let her go at the door, she turned a rather coy look to him. Sliding a hand through his hair to trail a finger down his jaw, she whispered, “Stay, please. I’ll dismiss me maid, and we can get…reacquainted.”
Again, his emotions were thrown into a whirlwind. The Freya from the healing room was the one he knew, but this one—the sensual one, was one he did not know. Slipping away from her touch, he smiled deprecatingly.
