Page 1 of Married to the Ruthless Highlander
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“Ye wished to see me?” Freya’s voice was little more than a whisper as she sat in the chair across from her brother’s desk. Her back straight, her hands folded neatly in her lap, she gave no sign of the unease that coiled within her.
Something was wrong, she could feel it in her bones, in the pit of her stomach. Something was wrong, and she was about to find out what.
The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows over the paneled walls. Across from her, Adam, her older brother and Laird of Clan MacNiall, watched her with a somber gaze. His broad shoulders were tense, his blue eyes clouded over as he slid a piece of paper across the desk’s grainy surface.
Freya’s breath caught. Even before her fingertips brushed the parchment, she knew who had written it. There was no mistaking the messy hand—it could only belong to one person.
Laura.
Her twin sister.
Freya’s stomach twisted, but she maintained her composure as she read each line carefully. Again and again. The words seemed to blur in front of her eyes, but she did not falter. She was always composed, always careful with her emotions and appearance. But inside… inside, there was a torrential downpour of questions, most left unanswered by the few lines.
“We are goin’ to bring her home.” Adam’s voice cut through her thoughts, low and resolute. He leaned forward, his eyes focused steadily on the paper between her fingers. “Whether she likes it or nae.”
Carefully, she set the letter back on the desk, smoothing out the creases as if that small act could somehow bring order into the chaos that was blooming in her chest. “When do we leave?”
Adam’s gaze shifted from the letter to Freya. He looked at her for a moment, then shook his head as if he could not understand what she had just said to him. “Emily andmeselfare leavin’ within the hour. But ye, ye will remain here with our maither.”
Nay, nay, nay.
The words hit her like a stone sinking into the coldest depths. Freya blinked and then adjusted her spectacles. The reins thatcontrolled her composure slipped between her fingertips before she could grasp them once more.
“What do ye mean?”
“The road isnae a place for a lady,” Adam said, his voice firm.
Freya frowned. “And yet ye are bringin’ yer wife, whoisa lady.”
“Ye ken what I mean well enough. A lady such as yerself, Freya.”
She did, she knew exactly what he meant, but that did not mean that she wanted to hear it or believe it.
Freya hated that he was right. Without saying much at all, he had laid it all out quite plainly before her. She wasn’t strong, nor was she skilled on a horse. She did enjoy riding, and, thankfully, her old mare was a sweet beast with the patience of a saint. Whereas her sister would happily show off, racing through the wilds, Freya was content to take a ride through the pathways near their home, never straying.
Her sister, though…
Laura is somewhere out there, and I should be lookin’ for her.
Freya wished the words would rise to her throat and slip past her lips, but they remained screams in her mind. There was no way to silence them, only to breathe as she stared back at her olderbrother, silently begging him to change his mind. But she knew he would not.
Adam leaned back in his seat. “Ye will remain here, under the care of Laird MacGordon. He will arrive before noon if the road has been kind to him. Nightfall, at the latest.”
Freya froze. The name struck her harder than any blow possibly could. Her heart lurched, thundering like some great storm in her ears. A chill crawled down her spine as the name echoed in her mind.
Nay, nae him. God, anyone but him.
Her lips parted, but the words she intended to protest with were lodged in her throat. Freya stared at her brother, shaking her head slowly as she pleaded with no more than her eyes.
Please, nae him.
The study door creaked open then, and Freya turned quickly, wondering if the Devil himself had been summoned at the mention of his name. But no, it was Emily.
Freya let out a breath of relief. Emily, her dear friend and her brother’s wife, surely would help convince Adam that he was making a mistake.
Emily moved across the room with a soft grace that seemed unlike her. She was usually so confident, so bold and defiant.She was pretty, petite, with delicate features framed by dark locks. Normally, her presence would fill the room. But now, she did not so much as meet Freya’s eyes.
