Page 38 of Married to the Ruthless Highlander
He gave her a hard look, not deigning to offer a response.
Ersie smiled. “Aye, I thought nae.”
She turned her horse around, and, with one final nod, she took off the way she had come, kicking up clods of dirt and moss before the fog swallowed her up.
A moment later, Doughall rode off in the opposite direction, determined to ride until he had cleared his head of Freya and the wind had whipped away all traces of her touch and her scent and his desire to ‘punish’ her again.
Freya had just managed to get herself out of her beautiful gown and into her nightdress alone, not wanting to summon Ealasaid to help her, when a light knock sounded at the bedchamber door.
“Whatnow?” she muttered to herself, grabbing a blanket and throwing it around herself like a cloak. “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Emily’s gentle voice replied.
Freya frowned at the closed door for a moment. On the one hand, Emily was her friend, and she cherished their companionship. On the other hand, she was perpetually alliedwith Adam, being his wife and all. She had already let Freya down when she had agreed to exclude her from the search for Laura. What if this was just going to be another disappointment?
“In that case, let me ask this—who sent ye?” Freya said, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself.
“I sent meself,” Emily answered. “I promise ye, I’m nae here as an envoy.”
Freya wasn’t sure she believed Emily, but her desire to be courteous was greater than her uncertainty. She did not have it in herself to send Emily away, especially if there was a chance that she could persuade her to take her side.
“Come in,” she said, moving over to the armchairs in front of the fireplace.
Emily entered cautiously, her apology etched in each step as she made her way to the vacant armchair. She sat down and leaned forward, her hands clasped together. Before she could say a word, Freya spoke.
“I trust ye heard that Adam gave me the cruelest ultimatum? I ken he’s nae accustomed to resistance—nae from me, anyway—but I didnae think he could be so… so… brutal,” Freya scoffed. “Either I marry Doughall or me sister suffers and is never found. Can ye believe that? Can ye believe the utter… utter meanness of him? Nae a single thought given to me and how I might feel about havin’ to marry a man who doesnae want me!”
Emily nodded slowly. “And if hedidwant ye?”
“What?” Freya recoiled from the question. “Well… he doesnae, so I dinnae see how that matters at all.”
A flicker of something passed behind Emily’s eyes. “But doyewant him?”
Agitation vibrated through Freya’s limbs, her leg jigging restlessly. She turned this way and that in the armchair, but no angle provided any comfort from the question or the memory of kissing Doughall, touching him, being held by him.
She rose from the chair and walked a few steps, uneasiness taking her toward the window and back, pacing with her chin dipped to her chest.
“Well, I dinnae ken,” she said with exasperation. “All I ken for sure is that he’s the most… frustratin’ man I’ve ever met.”
“Frustration isnae necessarily a bad thing,” Emily said patiently. “It depends on the source of it.”
Freya put her hands on her hips, continuing to pace. “Och, I assure ye it’s a bad thing. He’s… rude, he’s callous, he’s… always makin’ demands and demandin’ obedience. I never asked to be a part of his betrothal scheme, but he forced me into it, and… Aye, he’s unfairly handsome, and Idofeel safe when I’m with him, like he could protect me from anythin’—a bear, even—but… but he’s just so… infuriatin’!”
“So, yedidnaewant to kiss him?” Emily asked pointedly, a twinkle in her eyes.
Freya’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, outrage and embarrassment vying for control of her tongue. She made some noises that might have been words and began to pace again, too flustered to do anything else.
“If I may?” Another voice joined the conversation from the doorway.
Freya whirled around, surprised to see Ersie standing there in her cloak, her hair windswept as if she had recently gone riding. In an instant, Freya’s embarrassment transformed into annoyance, directed firmly at the grinning man-at-arms.
“Nay, ye may nae!” she muttered, wagging a finger. “This is all because of ye. If I didnae let ye convince me to try and make Doughall jealous, I wouldnae be in this position. I’d be able to leave in a few short weeks, nae trapped here indefinitely as Doughall’swife!”
Ersie shrugged, shedding her cloak as she stepped further into the room. “With the utmost respect, Freya, if ye loathed him so, I wouldnae have been ableto convince ye. Ye secretly wanted to see if ye could make him jealous because, if we’re bein’ honest—if ye’re bein’ honest with yerself—ye dinnae hate him as much as ye claim to.” She smiled. “There’s nay shame in it.”
“This is… this is preposterous!” Freya yelped, backing away to the far side of the room as she pointed between the two women. “Ye’re conspirin’ together. Did me braither put ye up to this?”
Ersie sat down in the chair that Freya had vacated. “I havenae spoken a word to yer braither.”
