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Freya’s heart was thumping for another reason. But no one knew it. When the Laird hugged her, she nearly cowered into his hold. The Laird and Lady wanted her there, but something was stopping Elspeth from doing the same. Was it how she looked, dressed, spoke? What?

“Come, come, Darling,” her mother looped her arm. “Let the men-folk go talk business, while Elspeth and I show ye yer new quarters.”

“Nice to see ye again, Elspeth,” Freya said, hesitantly.

“As I am,” Elspeth nodded cordially.

“I suppose that means we’ve been banished,” Laird Lobhdain said jovially, “Nay worries, Laird Ruthven. We do have business to speak about, especially after that letter ye sent me last night.”

Freya shot a look over her shoulder while Laird Aidan took Evan way. She followed the Lady and her sister up the stairs and another shorter one to a higher level. She supposed this was where the family lived, away from those who served the house.

Lady Grace pushed in a door, and Freya stepped into a room that was fit for royalty. Large windows dominated one side of the bed chamber, while the room held an oversized, ornate bed and a wardrobe made from the same dark wood. The bed was piled high with luxurious maroon coverlets and pillows, edged with gold thread. Squares of lambskin rugs were on select parts of the room, a couch and three chairs circled the large fireplace.

Unable to believe that this room, larger than her parents’ humble cottage, was hers, Freya took two steps inside the chamber and feared touching anything. “I am… speechless.”

“And here,” Lady Grace turned to an inner doorway, that, when Freya went through, saw a sizeable wooden bathtub, standing on blocks, and a table with a washing basin. Beside it, was a pitcher filled with water, and aside it was some folded rags and a large towel. There was a tall stool with an empty pan at its foot. She wondered what it was for but did not ask.

“Here is where ye’ll bathe and soak yer feet if ye would like,” Lady Grace said happily. “I dinnae have much time to get all the things I wanted to give ye, but over time, I’ll have them for ye.”

More things? What else does she want to give me?

Going back to the bed chamber, Freya rested her bags on the floor, and turned to Lady Grace. “‘Tis more than I had ever expected, Lady Grace, thank ye, and me parents offer ye their thanks as well.”

A flash of sorrow—or possibly regret—passed over Lady Grace’s face, but she inclined her head. “Ye’re very welcome, Freya. We have a welcome meal for ye that is ready in me rooms, so if ye would settle in, I’ll send someone for ye so ye can join us.”

Grateful that the Lady was giving her time to collect her herself, Freya embraced her birth mother, tightly, “Thank ye, again.”

Elspeth was quiet through her arrival and the walk through the castle, but she came around her mother and hugged Freya as well. “If ye look in the wardrobe, there are some of me old dresses I kent ye would like. If ye dinnae like any, I’m sure we can find more.”

Surprised at her gift, Freya thanked her. “That was very gracious of ye. I’m sure they will be all right.”

When the door closed behind them, Freya went to the bed and touched the coverlet, her fingers skirted over the softest fabric she had ever brushed over. Tugging the wardrobe’s door open, she saw an array of dresses, with varied colors, in styles that she had not seen before. Pulling one out, she admired the deep-blue color and the laces that crisscrossed in the back. Another was pale green with satiny underlining for the puffed sleeves.

Replacing them in the wardrobe, Freya admired her room, trailing her fingertips over the warm woods, the cold stone of the fireplace, and the soft kidskin rugs. After moving one of the chairs to the window, she sat at the window and looked out. Her room was placed directly in line with the valley of farmland she had seen before, but from this angle, she saw more. A breeze rippled the crops in a smooth wave, and the smell of barley and oilseed was light in the air.

She spotted a small bell tower, and a building that could be a church. Her eyes ran over the lines of houses she had seen before, but now that she was closer, she saw tiny children playing before one. A woman—their mother, Freya supposed—came and ushered them back into the house. If these were the Milleson’s servants, they surely lived well.

Clutching at her pendant, Freya whispered a prayer for her parents that she knew were hurting back in their home. Her mother was probably still crying in her father’s arms. Sighing lowly, Freya stood and went to unpack her few items in the wardrobe, and a few vials of painkilling medicine and salve that she had made herself. She was closing a drawer when someone knocked and startled her a little.

Going to answer the door, she was met by a short woman with dark hair cropped close to her ears. She dipped her head. “Greetings, Miss Crushom. I am Miriam. Lady Lobhdain has sent me to ye.”

“Thank ye,” Freya said

The woman’s light brown eyes were calm, “I am also assigned to see to yer mornings’, and whatever ye might need through the days.”

“Ye’re me…maid?” Freya said, uncertain.

“Aye, Miss,” Miriam nodded. “Please, follow me. Lady Lobhdain and Miss Milleson are waitin’ in Me Lady’s sunroom.”

“Wait a moment,” she begged, “Let me wash me hands.”

Hurrying to the washroom where the bathtub was, she washed quickly and then drying with one of the rags, went back to Miriam. “Thank ye for waiting. I’m ready.”

Following a step behind Miriam, Freya entered an ample room with massive windows and tables laden with food. Lady Grace was sitting there and speaking with Elspeth when Freya came in, but upon seeing her, stood.

“Please, sit,” Lady Grace said. “And thank ye, Miriam.”