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“I’ll see ye at the weddin’,” he said and turned his back to her once more, leaving her alone, her hopes dashed.

25

“Icannae believe he didnae tell ye,” Adam groused, sipping more whiskey than he probably should have at ten o’clock in the morning. “I told him explicitly to tell ye we’d bought the gown already. Speakin’ of which, why can I nae find him this mornin’?”

Freya stared at her reflection in the mirror in the large, mostly empty study that Isla had earmarked as a dressing room for the upcoming nuptials. The gown was hideous, not at all what she would have chosen for herself. But surrounded by her family, and Isla, she did not feel like she could protest.

I must nae make a bad impression.

Old habits, it seemed, died hard.

“He’ll be away with his uncle, helpin’ at the distillery,” Isla replied with an encouraging smile, standing at Freya’s side.“Flynn has been there all night, preparin’ the best bottles of whiskey for the occasion. Poor thing thought he’d have more time—didnae realize we were rushin’ to the altar.”

She flashed a wink through the mirror, that subtle gesture of support more powerful than she could have realized.

Of course, Freya loved her brother and sister-in-law, and she loved her mother in her own way, but not one of them had asked how she was feeling or if she even liked the dress. They were all too concerned about how quickly they could leave to find Laura.

I miss her too. I want to find her too, but one moment of yer consideration cannae be too much to ask, can it?

“Aye, we’re terribly sorry about that,” Emily chimed in, offering her a regretful look. “Truly, we are.”

Adam sniffed. “Of course, we’re sorry to cause ye such trouble, havin’ ye make preparations without much warnin’. I wish it could be done differently, but this is what must happen.” He glanced at Freya. “The seamstress did a good job. I’ll leave coin with Doughall for her, as thanks.”

“It isexactlywhat I imagined me daughter wearin’ at her weddin’,” Moira gushed with a delighted grin.

Ye’re nae a mouse, Freya. Dinnae be a mouse ever again.

Freya swallowed past the lump in her throat, determined to show some of the strength that Doughall believed she had.

“It doesnae fit me properly, Maither,” she said abruptly. “It doesnae flatter me, either. I think ye must’ve given the seamstress Laura’s measurements. As for the color, I’m nae sure who ye were thinkin’ of when ye purchased it, but it wasnae me or me twin.”

The room fell into stunned silence, so deafeningly quiet that Freya could hear the creak of her gown’s seams as she struggled to breathe in and out.

“I beg yer pardon,” Moira croaked, staring at her as if she were a stranger.

“It’s yellow, Maither,” Freya replied, willing her voice not to falter. “Fortunately, it’s nae summer, or else I’d take one step out of this castle and be swarmed by bees thinkin’ they’d found the buttercups.”

Moira’s eyes widened. “Excuse me? I’ll have ye ken that yer braither thinks it’s exquisite.”

“Adam wouldnae ken a roll of silk from a bale of hay,” Freya said, surprised by her increasing sense of calm. “He probably said it was nice so ye’d hurry up instead of demandin’ to see every gown the dressmaker already had made. I could have gone with ye, but nay one thought to ask.”

Isla put a defensive arm around her shoulders. “I’ve got plenty of gowns ye can choose from if ye like? Och, I ken the perfect one!” She hesitated. “But if ye dinnae like that either, we’ll tear this castle apart to find ye a gown worthy of the new Lady MacGordon. And, most importantly, Freya Kane.”

As Isla’s embrace tightened, it took every speck of willpower Freya possessed not to crumble into the older woman’s arms and weep at her kindness. It was all Freya had wanted—some recognition from someone. In truth, she had expected it from Emily, but Emily had been too busy keeping her husband calm.

He cannae have heard about last night, or he’d be hittin’ the roof.

It did seem strange that no one in the room had been told about the events that had unfolded, but Doughalldidprefer to do things his way. Maybe he had wanted to keep it quiet to avoid causing unnecessary worry. After all, the threat had been dealt with—what was there to say?

If Doughall hasnae told anyone, I’m nae goin’ to disobey. Nae thatwish, anyway.

“Ye will wear the gown that has been bought for ye!” Moira snapped, getting up from the high-backed chair she had been perched on. “Ye’ll be grateful for it, too! I wore a dress in that color when I married yer faither, so if it was good enough for me, it’ll bloody well be good enough for ye.”

Freya smiled sadly at her mother. “Nay, I’d say that’s another reason nae to wear it.”

“And what isthatsupposed to mean?” Moira was turning a rather alarming shade of red.

“Ye loved Faither, that cannae be denied.” Freya took a deep breath. “But I dinnae want the kind of marriage that ye had.”Well enough, since I willnae be gettin’ it. “So, I willnae be startin’ the same way.”