Page 43 of Captured By the Cruel Highlander
Emily let out a relieved breath. “I doubt it’ll take place.” But even as she spoke the words, a strange sensation washed over her. It felt like disappointment. “He expects James to attack on the day of the weddin’,” she continued. “When he arrives, yer braither will kill him. Once it’s over, I can go home, and Laura can return to ye.”
Freya sighed, looking out at the sea. “That is hardly fair to ye.”
“I wouldnae have chosen it, but I want to save me family. This will ensure they’re safe.”
“That is all I want, too. I just hope Laura is alright. We have never been separated for so long, and she is a stubborn fool.”
“Her letter said she was safe,” Emily insisted.
“Aye, but she wouldnae say if she wasnae. Heaven kens where she is. She hasnae any money or means to travel.”
“All the more reason for us to hold the weddin’ as soon as we can, then.”
“And what if the weddin’ takes place?” Freya asked thoughtfully. “If Stewart doesnae attack and ye end up really married, would ye mind stayin’ here with us? I willnae lie, it would be nice to have ye here.”
“Freya.”
Freya jumped to her feet at the sharp voice. Emily turned to find Lady MacNiall behind them, fixing her daughter with a glare.
Freya brushed down her skirts, looking guiltily at the piles of cushions around her. Clearly, her mother was unaware of the little den she had created for herself.
“Maither!” she squeaked. “I didnae hear ye come in.”
“Evidently.” Lady MacNiall’s eyes raked over Emily, and she frowned as she took in the new dress. Pressing her lips together, she met Emily’s gaze and sniffed primly, stepping back from her. “I wish to speak with ye, Lady Emily, if ye arenae otherwise engaged.”
Her voice dripped with accusation. Emily could well imagine how they looked, huddled together in the library as though they were plotting together.
Freya’s sweetness and enthusiasm had captured her attention and provided a much-needed distraction from her worries. They all came flooding back with the presence of Adam’s mother.
Emily handed the book back to Freya, before following Lady MacNiall without another word.
She was led through the library and back out into the corridors. She struggled to keep up with Lady MacNiall’s long strides as they moved through a side passage and into a small antechamber by a large oak door.
Lady MacNiall walked through it without delay, and Emily followed.
She entered what could only be the chambers of the Lady of the castle. It was a magnificent room, with a large bathtub on one side and long hanging curtains of brushed gold around the bed. The wood in the room was dark in color, setting off the brightness of the gold accents on the furniture.
It looks like a princess’s bedroom. Perhaps that is how Lady MacNiallsees herself.
Lady MacNiall was watching her with narrowed eyes, so Emily came to a stop and waited for her to speak. She must have been brought here for a reason.
“Will there be anythin’ ye want to change before ye move into these chambers after the weddin’?” Lady MacNiall asked stiffly.
Emily looked around her again, astonished that this room would be offered so willingly.
“Nay,” she said after a short pause. “There is nothin’ I would change.”
Lady MacNiall’s spine stiffened considerably.
“Because I willnae use this room,” Emily continued. “I have nay desire to force ye out of yer chambers, M’Lady.”
Lady MacNiall’s eyes widened, but her shoulders relaxed just a fraction. “Ye will be the Lady of the castle,” she replied dismissively. “Do ye nae intend to take up yer duties?”
“On the contrary. I intend to do whatever is needed, but that doesnae mean we cannae share the castle. I have nay wish to push ye out of everythin’ ye ken.”
Lady MacNiall was fidgeting with her skirts awkwardly, and she walked to the fireplace, looking around her with an expression that was hard to read.
“I confess I havenae used these rooms since me husband’s death,” she said softly. “It willnae be an inconvenience to me if ye wish to use them. They are for the Lady of the clan, after all.”
