SINBOUND TO THE HIGHLANDERA Scottish Historical Romance Novel

ELOISE MADIGAN

CONTENTS

A Steamy Gift For You…Scottish Brogue Glossary

PrologueChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Chapter 25Chapter 26Chapter 27Chapter 28Chapter 29EpilogueExtended EpiloguePreview: The Highlander’s Alluring Spy

Chapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3

Also by Eloise MadiganAbout the Author

A S T E A M Y G I F T F O R Y O U …

Thanks a lot for purchasing my book. It really means a lot to me, because this is the best way to show me your love.

As a Thank You gift I have written a full length novel for you, called Captured by His Highland Kiss. It’s only availableto people who have downloaded one of my books and you can get your free copy by tapping the image below or thislink here.

Once more, thanks a lot for your love and support.

Eloise Madigan

S C O T T I S H B R O G U E G L O S S A R Y

Here is a very useful glossary my good friend Lydia Kendall sent to me, that will help youbetter understand the Scottish Brogue used:

aboot - about

ach - oh

afore - before

an' - and

anythin - anything

a'side - beside

askin' - asking

a'tween - between

auld - old

aye - yes

bampot - a jerk

bare bannock- a type of biscuit

bearin' - bearing

beddin' - bedding or sleeping with

bellend - a vulgar slang word

blethering - blabbing

blootered - drunk

bonnie - beautiful or pretty

bonniest - prettiest

cannae - cannot

chargin' - charging

cheesin' - happy

clocked - noticed

c'mon- come on

couldn'ae - couldn't

coupla - couple of

crivens - hell

cuddie - idiot

dae - do

dinin' - dining

dinnae - didn't or don't

disnae - doesn't

dobber - idiot

doesn'ae - doesn't

dolton - idiot

doon - down

dram - a measure of whiskey

efter - after

eh' - right

'ere - here

fer - for

frein - friend

fey - from

gae - get or give

git - a contemptible person

gonnae - going to

greetin' - dying

hae - have

hald - hold

haven'ae - haven't

heed - head

heedstart - head start

hid - had

hoovered - gobbled

intoxicated - drunk

kip - rest

lass - young girl

leavin - leaving

legless - drunk

me - my

nae - not

no' - not

noo - now

nothin' - nothing,

oan - on

o' - of

Och - an Olympian spirit who rules the sun

oot- out

packin- packing

pished - drunk

scooby - clue

scran - food

shite - shit

sittin' - sitting

so's - so as

somethin' - something

soonds ' sounds

stonking - stinking

tae - to

teasin' - teasing

thrawn - perverse, ill-tempered

tryin' - trying

wallops - idiot

wee -small

wheest - talking

whit's - what's

wi'- with

wid - would

wisnae - was not

withoot - without

wouldnae - wouldn't

ya - you

ye - you

yea - yes

ye'll - you'll

yer - your

yerself - yourself

ye're - you're

ye've - you've

A B O U T T H E B O O K

Love's other name is revenge...

Knowing she was adopted, Freya Crushom never thought that she would be the daughterof a Laird until a kind Highlander reveals her true birthright. With her whole life upsidedown, her heart tears between him and her duty to her new family.

For Evan Saunderson, Laird of Ruthven, an arranged marriage is the only solution to hisclan’s threat of war. But his plans change, when he finds his betrothed’s identical twinstaring down at him in the woods, bewitching him with her eyes.

The only thing that seems to disrupt their false sense of tranquility is Freya's sistermissing. But that is only a deadly scheme by someone who seems to have forgiven butnever forgetten...and Evan is the only person able to unveil it.

T

P R O L O G U E

21 YEARS GO

Lobhdain Castle

he healers tugged at him, forcing Aidan Milleson, Laird of Lobhdain, out of thebirthing room where his wife, Grace, was crying out in pain—but he was not goingto leave. He felt hamstrung, wanting to help but knowing there was nothing he

could do. Grace’s hold was excruciatingly tight on his hand, and her lovely blue eyes wererife with fear.

“Me Laird,” a midwife urged. “Tis nay the place for ye.”

“The hell it isnae,” the Laird roared, “me wife is in pain.”

The woman was adamant, and Aidan memorized her face, to have a long talk with herafter. “I ken, Me Laird, but there will be blood and—”

“I daenae care,” he snapped, firming his grip on his wife’s trembling hand. “I’m naeleavin’ unless God himself drags me out. It’s the middle of the bloody night for Heaven’ssake. I’m nay movin’.”

Grace had begun to feel the pain of childbirth not soon after they had retired to bed,somewhere near the ninth hour, and now, somewhere toward dawn, she was stilltravailing. Aidan felt the hours passing by.

“Mayhap…” Grace panted, “mayhap ye should, love. These women will care for me, andI’m…” she grimaced and bit her lip as pain lanced over her face, “goin’ to get throughthis.”

His face contorted with displeasure as it was not only the midwives pressuring him toleave. Now it was his love. “But I daenae—”

Grace arched so tightly she nearly doubled on the birthing bed, and the metallic smell ofblood turned his stomach upside down. Swallowing thickly, he dropped a kiss on herforehead and left the room, feeling that his place was still back in with his wife.

The moment he stepped out of the room, a piercing cry had him spinning on his heel andrushing back inside, they barred him from entering. It was pure torture hearing his wife inpain, and there was nothing he could do. He had vowed to protect his beloved fromanything that would harm her but now…he rubbed his face hard.

All along when she had started increasing, he had felt his love for her doubled every day.Waking up with his hand resting on her belly had been his delight, and nothing she did,her strange cravings or hurling in the morning, had turned him away. Now, his happinesswas changing to dread.

What if she doesnae make it through this?

He began to pace, trying hard to not let the noises from the inside trip his heart into apanic. It was an instinct honed into him from childhood to rush to any woman’s help whenshe was in peril.

I am the one to put her in this peril, now.

His feet paced so hard there was a miracle he had not left a deep furrow on the stonefloor. He vowed never to put his wife through this again, as he could not bear hearing herin so much agony. Was this how long childbirth took? He did not know if he could manage

any more of this crippling worry that cramped his stomach when he heard her cry out.Grace’s long plaintive cry had had his heart about to leap out from his chest. He hatedhimself to his very core for her pain.

“Never again,” he swore while resting a hand on the cold walls. “Never again, me Love.”

Then, he heard nothing coming from the room, and his heart leaped in fright. Why was henot hearing anything from Grace? Had she made it through? His heart cramped at thethought that he might go back inside to see his wife, graying and cooling on the bed—dead. Not caring that he was banned, Aidan rushed inside, franticly praying his heart tofind his wife alive. His eyes found her, laying on the bed—and heaving.

“Oh, thank God,” he exclaimed, leaping to her side and taking her hand. “Look at me,Love, please.”

Her eyes blinked open, and he saw pure exhaustion dimming her once bright blue orbs,“Twas…” she swallowed. “T’was two bairns, Aidan. I had twin lasses.”

A shaky smile tugged at his lips. He had prepared for one bairn, not two, and secretly, hehad hoped it would be a boy-child, but he was not going to complain. His wife had gonethrough hours of pure anguish, but had come out alive. He could manage two girls.

“I’m happy, love,” he said, grasping her hand and lifting it to his lips. “I’m so happy ye’reall right now. We’ll do the best for these lasses, I swear it.”

A shuffle behind him had him twisting to see a midwife carrying a squirming, cryingbundle, wrapped up in swaddling clothes, to them, and he frowned. Hadn’t his wife justsaid she had birthed twins? Where was the other? Worry that something had gone wrong,that the bairn had passed away or had come out a stillbirth, leaped into his chest evenbefore the look on the woman’s face confirmed it.

“I’m sorry, Me Lady,” the midwife said while resting the bairn on his wife’s breast, “The

other one did not take a breath.”

His eyes clenched tight as Grace gasped out a bereaved cry. He swallowed over hissorrow and leaned in to snake an arm under his wife’s shoulder and hug her to his chest.

“She’s with God now, Love,” he kissed her lightly freckled cheek. “But, He let us have theother.” Tucking a finger into the swaddling cloth, he peered down as his daughter, whoseface was scrunched uptight. “We’ll call her Elspeth, aye?”

Tears lingered at Grace’s eyes, “Aye, as she was chosen by God to stay with us.”

Dropping a kiss on his bairn’s soft cheek, he smiled through his pain, as he looked overher, committing her infant face into memory, “And she’ll never want for anythin’.”

T

1RUTHVEN CASTLE

Twenty-One Years later

he din in the castle’s Great Hall had Evan Saunderson, the Laird of Ruthven, earsringing. His people were getting scared, and rightly so. The Jacobite forces wererising, and soon would come in these lands. They had already taken Glenfinnan,

Aberdeen, Perth, and were now nested a hop and skip away from Moray, their home. Theforces, though stationed for the time being, were coming closer, like a river carving itsway through the rock.

The Ruthven Clan, a territory of proud Protestants, seated in Moray, was not as tightlyknit as other clans, as their people were spread out on plains, all the way to Loch FionnÈireann. There was no walled central village, and for them to send guards to every villagewould not be possible. But then, to lose their people without even trying would hurt themeven more.

“People,” he called. “Please, I ken it’s a very troublin’ time but try to keep yer calm. TheJacobites have camped and arnae movin’.”

“Yet,” someone called out fearfully. “Every place they’ve gone through, they have razedto the ground. What to say we arenae next?”

“Aye,” another shouted. “We fisherfolk are terrified to leave our huts when we see thesmoke risin’ from their camp.”

“I hear the blasted Marquess Murray is a part of them,” a man sneered. “After his twodefeats, he should have learned by now. A bloody disgrace to our land, he is.”

Evan was tired, and as he cast a look to his mother, Annys Saunderson, seated on herthrone-like chair, he knew she had to be tired also. Despite the fact that he was the Lairdand held control over the territory, she made sure to have a say in all that went on aswell. Evan knew that she did it to honor his father’s memory, even now, twenty yearsafter his death.

His mother had held up bravely, but he could see the deepening lines at the sides of hereyes and her cheeks that grew gaunter every day. But no matter how he asked her—pleaded with her—to leave the Lairdship to him, she just shook her head and told himthat it was not a problem to her and she could handle it.

They had convened this meeting after dawn, and now it was nearly dusk. When tensionsgrew high, he had called for a meal to be set before all of them, knowing hunger andanger went hand in hand.

It was time to end this, so he stood and even descended from the dais to prove his point,“I assure ye all, I will use every power I have at me disposal to make sure ye are all safe.I have sent spies to where the Jacobites are stationed, and they will send me a messageif they learn that they will be movin’ inward.”

He paused to take a broad, sweeping look around the room, “I have also found a fewhundred acres of land far inside the woodlands, that, at worst, ye will be moved therewhere the soldiers will guard ye. But the army hasnae moved yet, and I ask ye to praythat they daenae. I must ask ye to be ready to move if we call, have a pack of yeressentials ready if ye are to run. But by God’s grace, I pray we won’t have to.”

He dropped his tone deep enough that they all knew this meeting was at an end, and hegestured for the guards to usher the people out. When the hall was empty, he took amoment to rub at the small throbbing at his temples and then stood.

“Come, Maither, let’s get ye rested,” he said while extending his arm to her.

It did not pass his notice of how she grimaced when getting to her feet and how hard hergrip was on his arm. He had to speak to her again about leaving all the Lairdship dutiesto him. He knew she wasn’t going to take retirement well, but she had done her best allthe past years; it was time for him to relieve her. Accompanying her up the steps wasanother sign that she had to step back from these long days, as she had to stop andmassage her left knee every two or three steps.

Entering her room, he had barely opened his mouth when she sighed, “I ken, Evan, Iken.”

He gently rested his hand on hers, and spoke. “We both ken that this is too taskin’ for ye.I want ye to fully leave the matter of the Lairdship to me, once and for all. Please,Maither.”

Her lips thinned, and a deliberating settled on her face, “I will, but ye need to marry first.It’s a bit overdue, daenae ye ken?”

She was right, it was the time for him to marry, but she had been right there when hehad courted multiple women, and none of them had met the mark he had needed. Andnow the war was on their heels, and he needed to make a strong alliance with anotherClan if they had any hope of surviving.

“I ken,” he replied, solemnly, as he glanced out the nearby window, “I believe I’ve beenlooking too close to home for the Lady I needed.” He paused. “I am told that LairdLobhdain has a daughter that is canny and beautiful, which are the qualities a Lady of aClan needs. He has the armed forces that might help us with this war if it comes to ourdoors.”

“It would be a marriage of convenience,” his mother replied, slightly shocked, “Ye believein love, Son, I ken ye do as that was the example yer Faither and I showed ye.”

“At this point,” Evan shrugged, “I’ll take the most sensible option for me people, me

happiness can wait.”

A shake of her head told him about her reaction to his dismal outlook, “Evan, that is ahard sacrifice for ye to take. I believe that there must be a lady out there with a familythat has the resources ye need but also the soul ye will love. I refuse to believe it will beone or the other.”

“If that’s the case, I’ll take it, but if nay…” he gave her a tight smile. “Faither always saida leader must be able to sacrifice himself for the good of his people. I tend to follow hisadvice, Maither.”

She still did not look comforted, “Evan, please. I dinnae ken that this is the right way forye.”

He kissed her cheek, “I’ll send a message to Laird Lobhdain on the morrow. If I find anyfavor with God, she’ll be the woman I’ll love from the outset, nay grow to love.”

“And if she isnae?” his mother asked.

Evan let the question linger in the air while he shrugged, May God have mercy on mesoul.

Later that night, Evan braced his palms on the cold brick of his room terrace’s balustrade.It was dark, but the smoke that rose from the Jacobite’s camp miles away was still ink-black against a gray sky. He knew the stories, testimonies, and rumors of how vicious theStuart supporters were when they went through a town and slaughtered all that moved.

“They’ve taken Aberdeen and Dundee, places with strong resistance…what will they do tome?” he wondered out loud. War was nearly on their doorstep, and Evan woke up everymorning with the fear that a messenger would come from the capital, demanding him tosend young men to fight.

Thinking of it, he grimaced; young men torn away from their wives and boys ripped apartfrom their mothers, breaking loving bonds and fracturing his people down the middle.Rubbing his tired eyes, he then rethought his commitment to sacrifice his chance at lovefor the safety of his people.

After mulling over it for a moment, his spine firmed. He would sacrifice his happiness forthose who had no other option but to rely on him. His father had told him countlessstories of kings and royal men who put their satisfaction before others.

His father had been cut from a different cloth, deeming his people more important thanhe was. He would be disgracing his father’s legacy if he did not do the same. Afterspeaking with his mother, he had sent off a letter to Laird Lobhdain, and his strident hopewas that the reply would be a good one.

Why wouldn’t they take it? The lass would have a good home, she would be taken careof, and their Clans would have a sound alliance. He couldn’t promise he’d love the lass ashe’d dreamed of loving a woman, but for all the rest the assurances were sure. Again,what could stop them from taking the marriage? War might end upon them as well, andthey would be very foolish to disregard an alliance that could help them.

It’s all up to ye, Laird Lobhdain. Would ye go about this war alone where many might dieor take me offer and have someone to stand by ye?

C

2RUTHVEN

rickets chirped in the dimming evening, and a bullfrog bellowed near the stream.Freya’s legs were up to her chin while her hand dipped into the stream, twirlingthe water that shot her wobbly reflection at her.

It was an image she had seen hundred times; dark-auburn hair pulled away into a messybun at the back of her neck, and her dark green eyes were almost hidden in the splatterof freckles across her nose.

Do me birth parents look like me?

In this quiet, the few hours she had to herself, she dreamed; dreamed away from thefarm-fields, the thick forest, and the village that her home was on the fringes of. Themountains that shielded them from the horrible snow and rain the other villages got,loomed above her high and majestic.

Sitting at the stream that flowed just a stone’s throw from her parent’s modest cottage,Freya allowed herself to wonder. It was the same issue that had plagued her from theday her parents, Balthair and Caitlin Crushom, had told her the truth about who she was,or, rather, who she wasn’t. She was not their birth child.

Her mother had said to her that it was a babe’s cry that had woken her up a summermorning, two decades ago. She was there, on their doorstep, in a basket. Her parentshadn’t known who she was, where she had come from or who had carried her there, butthey had taken her as theirs anyway.

As Freya grew, her mother had told Freya that, she, Caitlin was barren, and that herappearance in their lives was a gift from God. She loved her parents, with all her heart,but she kept wondering who her birth parents were and why they had sent her away.

The more Freya wondered, the more she battled with two opposite emotions. When shewas optimistic, she felt they had sent her away because they were dying or were not ableto raise her as there were too many children in the home, and so they sent her away fora better life.

When Freya felt negative, she thought that they had sent her away because she was nota son, and a lot of families prized sons more than daughters. But then, the one she hatedthe worst was that, she had been born too ugly. Perhaps to some beautiful people whosaw her face and deemed her unfit. That one sank to her core.

Is that it? Is that why they sent me away?

No one in the village treated her differently, but she heard things. When some of themerchants took their produce to the cities, they came back with stories of what the richwomen wore, how they acted, and, more importantly, how they looked. They all had skinlike alabaster and hair that looked like silk. And they were all married.

Had her parents come from the city? Were they beautiful people? Was that why they hadsent her away? Or were they poor and had sent her away to get a better life?

She twisted to look at the cottage on the hill behind her and smiled. Her life was not badat all; her parents loved her, and she had no reason to be feeling this way, but theuncertainty that came from not knowing what had caused them to send her away wasstill sticking in her mind. And the older she grew, the worst it got.

“Freya,” her mother called from the backdoor. “Freya, come here.”

Swatting a buzzing insect away from her face, she darted up and ran to the lady who waswiping her hands on her apron, “Aye, Maither?”

Caitlin gestured to a basket of washed turnips on the tiny kitchen table, “Peel those forme, Dear. I want to have dinner ready afore yer Faither comes home.”

Obediently, Freya went to grab the knife and began peeling while her mother put a poton the fire-prongs to boil. Beside it, was an iron bread pan that, from the scent comingfrom it, had bread baking inside it. “What were ye out there kennin’ about?”

Though the subject of her birth parents was not an issue, she would rather not speakabout it. “Old Missus Beathag asked me to pick some herbs for her on the morrow, Iagreed, but I forgot to ask her which ones.”

Her mother clucked her tongue, “Always so absent-minded.”

Freya only smiled and went on peeling. Somewhere between peeling the turnips anddicing them, they began to sing an old song about a beggar man. “The pawky auld carlecam ower the lee, Wi' monie gude-e'ens and days to me, Saying, Gudewife, for yourcourtesie, Will ye lodge a silly puir man ? The nicht was cauld, the carle was wat. Anddoun ayont the ingle he sat. My douchter's shouthers he 'gan to clap.”

“Oh, ho,” her father Balthair called as he came in. “The Beggarman, eh, what put ye insuch a jolly mood?”

“Naythin’,” Caitlin smiled and kissed his cheek, “Just normal happiness.”

Her father was dusty and stained from work on the farm, but he was cheerful. They werereaping the overflow of the wheat and barley crops, moving it away to prep the land forthe next crop of barley, oilseed, and corn. He dropped a kiss on her cheek as well beforeannouncing he was going to wash off in the river.

When he moved off, her mother dropped the roasted beef into the pot for the stew, andshe finished dicing the turnips.

“Let that cook for a while, and before it gets soft, add those pieces, Dear,” her motheradvised. “And mind that the pot daenae boil over.”

“Aye, Maither,” she nodded, grabbing a wooden spoon and stirring the pot while hermother went to meet her father at the stream.

These twilights moments were when her mother and father had some time to themselvesand shared some intimate moments. As they lived in one open cottage, it waschallenging for her parents to have some time to themselves. Freya did not mind; it wasonly reasonable for married folks to reconnect in private.

“Someday, I hope to have a marriage as they do,” she mused.

With a knife, she tested the meat, and it was getting soft. She quickly added the turnipsand stirred them in. Helping her mother cook was a part of her daily life. The others hadher assisting her father on the farm when they needed extra hands to pack up theproduce, and to her home, where she aided her mother with the household duties. Whenshe had time to herself, she helped Missus Beathag, the town’s old healer, with hertinctures, infusions, and poultices.

Taking a seat on a rough-hewn kitchen stool, she kept one eye on the pot, but her minddrifted. She was of age to marry, many women her age were already married, and somehad bairns that passed three or four summers already. The men in the village wereyoung, handsome, and very courteous to her, but she had never felt any connection toany of them.

A connection means tryin’ to make one—which I havenae. What is holdin’ me back? I’vedrawn attention from Iain Muller and Andrew Drummond…but…

Never could she answer that question. When she tried to dig deep, a ridiculous notionthat she was not fated to live in this village and marry one of the men there, had sprungup in her heart. But she did not see a way it would ever happen.

The bubbling of stew had her pulling the pot off the iron prongs, to rest it onto a thickwooden block. In good time too, as her parents came into the room from the backdoor.Her mother was smiling and ruddy-cheeked, and her father dressed and chuckling lowly.

It was good to see them so happy as it was not always that way at times. A few yearsago, there had been a horrible drought that had scorched their crops to dry twigs. Andwhen she was about nine, a terrible blizzard had rolled in, swelled the rivers nearby, andhad flooded the whole town.

The fields had drowned. Her father had been inconsolable, and her mother a worriedmess. They had struggled those times, but they always made it through. Now that thesummers were warm and the crops were growing and overflowing, they had food in thehouse and a small cache of silver coins.

“The stew is done,” she gestured to the pot. “Would ye like to share it out?”

“Nay,” her mother shook her head, “The bread is still bakin’. Ye can pop into MissusBeathag and ask her what she needs from ye on the morrow. By the time ye’re donethere, the bread should be ready.”

She looked between the two and ducked her head, “I’ll be back soon.”

Turning away, she saw a loving look pass between the two and thought they weresending her to have more privacy. It was dark, but she knew the way to the olderwoman’s home. The path that took her there, was lit by buzzing lighting bugs andserenaded by the song of crickets.

Missus Beathag's house was just across and behind a thick line of hedges. As she rounded

the bushes, she spotted the home with light spilling out from the closed door. She hoppedup the flat steps and knocked on the door and waited.

The sound of shuffling feet had her stepping away, so the elderly woman, leaning heavilyon a cane, opened the door and exclaimed, “Freya Crushom, Dear Heart. Why are yehere so late?”

Before answering, Freya dipped her head to kiss the woman’s cheek. “How are ye, MissusBeathag?”

“I forgot to ask ye what herbs ye wanted,” she said. “And I ken Maither and Faither wantsome time to themselves.”

“Ah,” the healer said and gestured for her to come in. “Come in, sit for a spell.”

Stepping in, she closed the door behind her, and helped the woman sit. Then, she tookher seat near the roaring fireplace. In the firelight, Missus Beathag’s hands, spotted withage and callused with using a pestle for years, clenched around the handle of her cane.

“I ken it’s nay the time for many herbs to have grown, but I need mandragora, hawthorn,nettles that ye already ken about, and ramsons, that’s wild garlic, Dear. The plant hasbroad green leaves, and large heads of starry white flowers that smell strongly of garlic.But daenae go in the morning, go in the afternoon. Remember, pluck them with yer righthand only and keep them in yer left. For the mandragoras, go pick them after sunset anduse an iron tool.”

“Aye,” Freya said, in a solemn tone.

Missus Beathag leaned forward with her eyes, rheumy but sharpening, “What is botherin’ye, lass?”

Freya nibbled on her lip a little, then sighed out her answer, “I keep wonderin’ about mereal birth parents, why they sent me away.”

“Lass, I understand yer frustration, but keep worryin’ about it willnae solve it. It isworryin’, but if ye keep yer mind on it all the time, ye’ll never have any peace. Whateverthe reason was, ye couldnae do anythin’ about it. If they dinnae want ye, they could havekilled ye. What ye can do is use the life they allowed ye to live to make the most of it,”Missus Beathag counseled. “Now, what else is botherin’ ye?”

Her face warmed, and she ducked it, “Marriage. I ken I’m old enough to be on me ownnow, but that means I should marry. I just deanae feel any connection with the menhere.”

A soft snort was interspersed in the silence that followed her bashful statement, “Have yeever tried to make a connection with them, lass?”

Even more self-conscious, she shook her head, “I suppose that’s what’s needed, eh?”

“It is,” Missus Beathag said, “But if I were ye, I wouldnae worry meself about marriage,lass. Ye’re lovely on yer own, and the right man who will come along will see ye for it.”

Freya held in her reservations as she still felt that her mottled skin was going to be aproblem. “So, ye need mandragora, hawthorn, nettles, and…er…wild garlic?”

“Aye, remember, that plant has broad green leaves and large starry white flowers,”Missus Beathag reiterated. “And go when it’s past noon, lass. In the cool of the day.”

“Aye,” Freya said, rising to kiss the older woman again. “I’ll find what I can.”

The older woman took her hand and held it securely, “And daenae ye worry about yerhusband, Dear Heart, he’ll come around soon, and ye’ll feel it down to yer bones.”

“I’ll try,” Freya smiled while pulling away.

She closed the door behind her and headed home.

Why is it that I feel Missus Beathag kens something I daenae? And why is she so sure I’llfind me husband soon, when I cannae see it?

S

3

tanding in a lovely room, furnished with padded chairs, thick carpets, and a finelystitched tapestry of a forest over the fireplace, Evan dared not fidget under theeyes of the man who was soon to be his father-in-law. He stuck his hand out to

Laird Lobhdain, who shook it with a firm grip.

“Please, take a seat, Laird Ruthven,” the Laird, clad in his great kilt of red and greentartan, said, gesturing to a seat.

“Thank ye for havin’ me,” Evan said, and rearranging the golden brooch and pin restingheavily on his shoulder of his gray and blue plaid, he felt the cold steel of his dagger inhis boot. “I ken the situation is nay the best desired for courtship.”

“Nay, it certainly isnae,” the older man said, stroking his beard. “But I do understand. AndI must say it will be a good alliance for us in more ways than this war.”

“I believe so,” Evan said, glancing at the door, hoping to see Miss Milleson soon.

When he had arrived with his mother, they had been received by both Laird and Lady, butLady Lobhdain had whisked his mother off so the two of them could talk. Or to plan thewedding day.

“However,” Laird Lobhdain leaned in to press his point, face set in a no-nonsense and no-wavering mien, “This will nay be a rushed wedding, Ruthven. Me daughter has longed for

this almost all her life, and will be torn if ye dinnea put any effort into it. I will nay behanding me daughter over to be married and put aside like a vase. I need ye to careabout this courtship with all the care and attention ye would give when ye had in times ofpeace.”

Evan stopped himself from gritting his jaw. He was too close to the man, and a sign offrustration like that would worsen his cause. The man had all the right to state what heneeded from him as a potential son-in-law.

“Aye,” Evan replied with a single nod. “I fully intend to do so.”

Satisfied, the Laird sat back, “Now, I need ye to understand that Elspeth is a sensitivesoul, Laird Ruthven, she’s strong in many ways but very vulnerable in others. She will naetake to any inattention or disloyalty.”

Evan knew what he meant—that Elspeth needed constant devotion—and began to doubtif he could give her that. The second part, about disloyalty, was a not-so-subtle warningthat there would be no philandering on his part. Which he felt was an insult to his honor.He would never marry the girl and take his attention elsewhere when it came to maritalfidelity, but it was war; he had to focus on that.

How could he devote most of his time to courting a lady when he had to prepare forsomething that would be devastating?

Hopefully, Miss Milleson will be reasonable and allow me to share me attention bothways.

“I will never be unfaithful to yer daughter,” Evan declared, a little annoyed the manwould think so.

“I deanae ken ye would as I’ve noticed, however from afar, how ye go about all yeraffairs with integrity but…” he rubbed his face, “ye have to understand, and it's hard for

me to let her go outside of our care. We’ve tried to shield her from the harshest realitiesof this land, ye ken. And to have her leave in a time of war…it’s just hard.”

Not being a parent himself, Evan did not know what it felt like to raise a child, but hethought that they should not have cosseted the lass so much. His mother and fatherloved him, but he remembered his father just looking at him, when he had fallen, and thedirt horribly skinned his tender knees.

Evan had cried for a while, but his father had not moved. His father had just stood there,looking at him, silently urging him to get up by himself—and he had. Had Miss Millesonever had lessons like that, something that taught her to manage for herself at times?Probably not. If she was as protected as her father implied, she might have had a dozenmaids at her beck and call.

“And ye say she’s never been courted before?” Evan confirmed.

“Aye,” the older Laird confirmed. “She professed a need to be educated first, kennin’ thatonly a man on the same adept level would court her.”

“Rather canny of her, I’d say,” Evan noted. “The Bible does warn us about unequal yolks.”

“My daughter is wise, a little guileless and sheltered, but she did have the wisdom to kenthat she would be the wife of a Laird someday, so she prepared for it,” Laird Lobhdainsaid proudly. “I’ve told her the situation underlyin’ this arrangement, Ruthven, and shekens it’s nay a normal courtship.”

A servant woman pushed the door in and stepping aside, held it open for three women tocome in; his mother, Lady Lobhdain and, behind them, Miss Milleson.

She was beautiful. Her face, a soft oval where delicately arched brows curved perfectlyover large verdant eyes, rimmed by long, dark lashes that brushed her cheeks as sheblinked. Dark-auburn hair spilled artistically around her chin and shoulders, and the cut of

her deep-blue silken dress accented her nipped-in waist.

Men would have worshiped at her feet if they had been allowed to see her.

Evan bowed, as she came forward and dipped out a curtsy, “I’m honored to meet ye, MissMilleson.”

“Likewise, Laird Ruthven,” she said in a cultured, musical voice.

“Please, sit,” he said and held her chair.

His mother gave him a look of approval while she sat near to Lady Lobhdain. He did notfeel overwhelmed as he had acted calmly with more eyes on him, but not in thissituation.

“Miss Milleson, I ken yer Faither has told ye about the reality of this marriage, how it is ameasure to merge our clans to protect ourselves from the war. I ken it is nay thesituation any Lady would have wanted to be courted in, but that daenae mean I will notextend to ye the same treatment I would have done in times of peace.”

Her head inclined in a gracious, queenly dip, “I understand, Laird Ruthven. Times aretroublin’, aye, but I do hope we can still have a lovely courtship, nevertheless.”

Evan briefly met his mother’s eyes, and she looked pleased. He turned back to the Laird,“Laird, would ye mind if I took a walk with Miss Milleson?”

A look passed between the Laird and his wife, and when she gave him a slight nod, hegave his consent, “Ye may use the garden.”

Standing, Evan extended his arm to Miss Milleson and when she took it, he nodded to the

three and walked her out the room, “I’ll need to lean on yer expertise, Miss Milleson,please direct me to this garden yer Faither spoke about.”

Her laugh was soft and refined, “It’s just down this hallway and out the door. Nay worry,I’ll show ye where it is.”

Following her, they emerged from the house onto a walkway that led to a walled garden.The bushes were just starting to feel the coming winter and were growing thin at theincreasingly cold air and frosty mornings.

“Before I say anythin’ more, I must say, ye are bonnie,” Evan said. “I am astonished yehave nay been asked for before.”

“Well, I havenae,” she replied, looping her arm tighter with his. “I ken that me destinywould be different from other women. So, I made sure I’d have all the wisdom anddiscretion I’d need to help me husband, when it came to makin’ the hardest decisions.”

Her Faither said the same.

“And I do applaud ye for it,” he said sincerely. “What did ye like to do as a child? Whatwas ye favorite food?”

“I loved and still love to read,” she replied. “Faither dinnae have access to many books orscrolls as most of them came from England, but the ones he did have, he gave to me,”she replied. “And me favorite food was honey cakes. Sadly, I overate and grew plump.Maither adjusted me diet, and now I eat a specific set of foods that come from all parts ofScotland. I eat a silverfish from Loch Lamond and Lock Eck and beef from Aberdeen.”

Evan blinked; he had never expected that. But he could deal with her dietaryrequirements. She wrinkled her nose, “Pork is vile, and I never touch that meat, in fact,Faither banned pigs from the castle when I was seven years old. One of the servant’shogs had rushed me and frightened me.”

That startled him. A lot of Scots did not eat pigs, but the lowest who hardly could affordbeef or goats reared pigs. Banning them from the castle meant banning food from a lot ofpeople. He hoped, though, that the Laird has subsided the loss in some other way.

“A lot of my servants raise pigs,” he mentioned. “Me family daenae eat pork, though.”

“Ye should get rid of it overall,” she pronounced. “It’s vile.”

He bit back his reply, “Anythin’ else…do ye ride?”

“I tried once,” she said, “Faither bought a pony for me to ride. Gorgeous thing, golden-haired with brown eyes as big as the moon, but gettin’ into the saddle was hard, andriding felt unnatural, so I stopped it. I daenae ride at all, but Faither sourced an English-style carriage from Edinburgh for me to use when I have to go somewhere.”

Again, a lot of Ladies did not ride in the saddle, so he let that pass by.

Steering them around a corner, he asked, “Where do ye like to go when ye travel?”

“I went to France once,” she replied. “For one summer with my maids and Maither. It wasmagical. When I do travel here, it’s to the city to shop for new clothes and cosmetics.Once, Faither was invited to a Royal Ball, and I went with him. I was ten-and-six, tooearly to court, but I still learned a lot. City life is fantastic. Even now, Faither sends me toEdina every summer from then.”

His lips pressed a little tight at the particularities Miss Milleson had. But still, he coulddeal with them. He needed this arrangement to work for the safety of his people.

“I havenae traveled much,” he admitted. “The farthest I’ve gone was Cumberland. I hadyearned to go to Glasgae for higher education, but I couldnae, as I had taken on the

brunt of the Lairdship at twenty, fourteen years after me Faither died. So I called formasters from the capitals to teach me along the way. I’m told ye made sure to beeducated as well.”

“Aye,” she nodded. “I daenae ken much about trade or business, but I do learn quickly. Iken a lot about art, philosophy, history, and some medicine.”

Fair enough. Evan nodded; he had not expected a Lady to learn what tradition deemed asmale subjects, and it was even better; with her knowledge, their children—if born—wouldhave a well of education to draw from.

“That’s lovely,” he mused. “There are Ladies in court that are very engrossed in thosesubjects. I ken ye would be able to have discourse with them when they do come about. I—”

“Pardon me, Laird Ruthven,” a female servant hurried toward them. “Lady Ruthven has—”

And then Miss Milleson transformed. Her face darkened, and her eyes flashed with anger,“Who do ye ken ye are? Daenae ye see we are havin’ an important conversation. Leaveus ye—now, glaikit.”

Evan’s jaw dropped at the insult. Calling the woman stupid was not something he wouldever have expected from such a sophisticated Lady—but looking at the woman’simpassive face, he realized that probably it was something she was used to.

“I would Miss, but the Laird’s mother is asking for him. She received a message from thecastle, and she says they are needed back there,” the servant woman said carefully.

Miss Milleson’s face did not soften, but he intervened. “Me Maither wouldnae have calledme back if it wasnae important, Miss Milleson. I do apologize for this interruption, but I doneed to leave. I pledge to be back as soon as I am able.”

She huffed, but then nodded. “I understand.”

They hurried back to the castle, but instead of going to the room they had first assembledin, his mother was at the front entrance, and her coat was on.

“Maither, what is happenin’?” he asked.

“One of the stables caught fire,” she said curtly. “We need to go and see if anyone washurt and what must be done.”

Grimly, Evan turned, “I apologize, Laird Lobhdain. We must go. I’ll send notice to whenanother meetin’ might happen. Right now, me people need me. I fear someone mighthave died.”

“Go, Laird Ruthven,” the man shook his hand. “We’ll speak another time, take care of yerpeople.”

Over the man’s shoulder, he saw Miss Milleson roll her eyes, as if to say, How are thosepeople more important than me? She even crossed her arms and pouted—like a petulantchild.

As they rode away, he added up what he knew about Miss Milleson; she was shelteredand cossetted, she had expensive tastes, and, based on the pig story, she got whatevershe wanted with little regard to those around her. Then, there were two sides to her; thelovely, calm persona versus the one who had hissed at the woman servant. If she did nothave any respect for those, who ran her house, who was able to gain her respect?

As they rode away, he wondered.

Am I making the right decision with Miss Milleson?

S

4

lowly walking through the forest, Freya’s eyes were latched on the ground,scanning the underbrush for the plants Missus Beathag had asked her to get. Shehad found some hawthorn, and nettles but no mandragoras. The iron tool she was

to use on them rested in the basket, ready to be used when she found any.

Her eye rested on a cluster of plants with broad green leaves and large starry whiteflowers—the wild garlic Missus Beathag wanted.

Found it at last!

Happy with the find, she slipped to her knees and using her right hand, plucked the plantsup with the roots and transferred them to her left hand. She was not sure why she had tofollow such a method, but she was not going to ask.

Rumors had it that Missus Beathag was the daughter of a druid, and that was how shehad learned to heal. Some said she had learned it from medical masters when she hadlived in the cities, but Freya did not care. Whichever way, she still helped and healedpeople.

The light slithering down through the thick trees was getting dimmer and dimmer, andsoon she knew she had to go back home. Tomorrow she would hunt from themandragora plants through another part of the forest that lead down to the stream.

Mandragoras were best grown in sandy or dry soil and grew under partial shade. Sometrees grew over the banks of the river and provided the shade the mandragoras needed.She would check there tomorrow.

With the plants in her wicker basket, she stood and brushed the dirt off her skirts.Satisfied with her yield, she left and trekked back to the village. It was sundown, sopeople were coming from the farms and the market. Children were running in from theriver, wet-headed and laughing.

Holding the basket to her side, she lifted her hand and greeted all those she passed by.The preacher’s wife called to her as she passed by the stone kirk, and she waved back,pausing to exchange pleasantries before she moved off and to her home. Bypassing herhome, she made her way to Missus Beathag’s house and, on the porch, knocked on thedoor.

“Missus Beathag, it’s me,” Freya announced.

“Come in,” the old woman called out.

Pushing the door in, she went in to find the woman stirring something in a pot bubblingover the firepit.

“I found the wild garlic, nettles, and hawthorn. I’ll look for the mandragora in anotherpart of the forest. And, possibly down near the riverside, on the morrow,” she said whilewiping her face. “Are ye goin’ to need them quicker than that?”

“Nay,” Missus Beathag shook her head, “I daenae need them in a hurry, but I would liketo have them as soon as possible. The spring rains are soon to come, and ye ken MissusStewart has bouts of consumption here and there. And Mister Mungo has those pains inhis knees when times get cold.”

Picturing the two elderly people in her mind, Freya nodded, “I understand. I’ll be back on

the search on the morrow.”

“Thank ye,” Missus Beathag said, then added, “And I meant it, lass, stop worryin’ aboutyer husband.”

Her brows wrinkled a little as she wondered why Missus Beathag was speaking about herhusband again. But, as before, she did not ask why. “I ken, and I’ll see ye on themorrow.”

Kissing the old lady’s cheek, she went to a surprisingly empty home, took some clothesand a washcloth, and went to the stream to bathe. The sun was dimming, but shewashed off quickly and, with the clean feel of her skin, went back home to find hermother stoking the firepit.

“Where’s Faither?” she asked.

“Restin’,” her mother said, “had a hard day on the farm today, but got the rest of thecrops cut.”

Stashing her dirty clothes in a sack to be washed tomorrow, she went to help her mother.“I got most of the herbs Missus Beathag wants, but I still have to find the mandragora onthe morrow. Is there anythin’ ye need for me to do before I do go?”

“Aye,” her mother said sweetly, “I’m going to be helpin’ at the kirk from dawn to noon,can ye wash some of our clothes and put them out before ye go, mo leanbh?”

“I will,” she agreed while fiddling with the tail of her skirt and debating with herself.“Maither…do ye believe what they say about Missus Beathag…that she was the daughterof a druid?”

Her mother shot her a curious look, “I ken a lot of things about Missus Beathag, but nay

that, why?”

Sucking a deep breath, Freya told her about her constant curiosity about who her birthparents were, and how she wondered about if she would ever marry.

“Then, she said that I shouldnae worry about me husband, that he’d come along’ whenthe time was right,” Freya admitted, “And a while ago, she said the same thing. I justcannot shake the feelin’ that she kens somethin’ I daenae.”

“Mayhap she meant it simply, that one day ye’ll have the husband ye want,” her motherwiped her hands and came to sit by her. Resting her right hand on Freya’s, she asked. “Isit somethin’ ye’ve been kennin’ about for a while?”

Her cheeks warmed, “It is, I mean, I’m old enough now. A lot of the girls I grew up withare married off, and I ken ye’ve done yer job in raisin’ me. I ken its time that I stood onme own.”

Her mother’s face fell, and guilt cramped Freya’s stomach before she rushed to add, “Naeto say ye havenae done a good job, raisin’ me, and I love ye dearly, but eventually, I amgoing to leave ye.”

A soft smile took her mother’s face before Freya found herself enveloped in a sweetembrace, “I understand, Dear, and I kent that day would come, but I was hopin’ it wouldbe a while yet. I ken what ye are feelin’, darlin’, I felt the same way at yer age, butMissus Beathag is right. Daenae ye worry too much about it. God will direct the right manyer way,” her mother’s voice dipped. “And daenae speak a word about it to yer Faither, orhe’ll hide ye away for the rest of yer life.”

“I can hear ye two whisperin’,” her father said from the bed. “I deanae ken what it’sabout, but if ye are conspirin’ against me, I can tell ye now, it willnae work.”

Her mother laughed, “Aye, we are conspirin’ to keep the Easter cakes to ourselves.”

“About that,” her father said, as he sat up. “I hate to say it, but we might have a badEaster this year. There is a war out there; hopefully, it willnae reach our village, but still,we might have to prepare.”

The light mood in the room plummeted, but her mother held her close. “Dinnae ye worry,Freya, ye’ll be blessed with a good husband, I believe it.”

Evan eyed the Lobhdain castle with a wary eye. He was not sure if this was still the rightway to go, but he needed the Laird’s assistance. He wanted to believe he had seensomething else but direct disdain from Miss Milleson when been told the stable was onfire.

Surely the Lady had more compassion than that? And then, how she had snarled at thewoman servant. Perhaps she had only been disappointed with how the walk had endedand that he had to leave so abruptly.

He knew that she had grown up with her mother and father at her beck and call, and thatshe was stuck in her home for most of her life, but she could not be that self-centered.

Or is she?

He alighted from his horse and handed the pacing steed over to a boy who led it away tothe stables. His note had been received well as they had sent a boy to receive him andtake care of his horse. Mounting the stairs, he was let in by a doorman and wasannounced.

Lady Lobhdain came to him, with a small smile on her face, “Good day, Laird Ruthven, Ihope the matter yesterday dinnae end up with any fatalities.”

He took her greeting with a nod, “It dinnae, thank God, but a few of our horses got

burned and a stable boy when he was tryin’ to get them out, but thankfully, nae deaths.”

“I’m relieved,” she said. “Elspeth is in her tea room, waitin’ for ye. If ye’d follow me.”

“Where is Laird Lobhdain this mornin’?” Evan asked.

“In the town, speaking with some council members, but I am sure he will be back in timeto speak with ye,” Lady Lobhdain clarified as they mounted the stairs.

Evan admired the golden woodwork of the railings and the carpet hangings on theintersections of the walls. They were all scenes of a thick forest and, in the middle of theseven tapestries, was one of a stunning orange-golden sunset. He supposed if they wereall put together, it would be one lovely drapery.

He was led to a room where silken curtains fluttered away from wide windows, and atable, set with all sorts of cakes and foods, was before him. It was rather English if hethought about it. Miss Milleson stood and came around the table, her light-blue dress asfluttery as the curtains. She was still lovely, but he told himself not to be fooled by herlooks. Her mother kissed her and whispered something in her ear, then pulled away andsmoothed her hair for her.

“I’ll leave ye to yer privacy,” Lady Lobhdain said with a gracious smile.

When the door closed behind her, Miss Milleson bowed her head, and an apologetic flushreddened her face where she stood.

“I must apologize for yesterday. I was upset that our time had ended so quickly and Iwasnae seein’ things properly. How were things at home? I hope nay one died.”

Though surprised at her sudden insights, Evan nodded, “I accept yer apology, and nayone was injured too badly. The horses were a bit singed, and a stable boy had a few

scrapes, but aye, nay one died.”

She breathed out a relieved breath, and her face brightened, “Please, sit, let's pick upfrom yesterday.”

Perhaps I judged her too quickly.

Seated, he looked at the table, but was unsure of what he was staring at. He had neverseen those foods in his life, “Pardon me, but what are these?”

“I had me cook make up some of my French favorites, marmalades, and brownbread, conserves, pâtes de fruit, gelées confitures, and compôtes,” she smiled whilereaching for a knife. “I hope ye like sweets, though.”

I daenae.

But he reached for the bread and stopped as part of it crumbled in his hands. Hemanaged to get hold of the bread and slather some fruit spread over it. He bit into it andheld back his grimace. The sweet was so cloying he felt like it was paste over his tongue,but Miss Milleson ate with a sublime look on her face.

“How…” he cleared his throat, “how long did ye say ye were in France?”

“Three months,” she said in a loving sigh. “I loved it so much I took the recipes back formy cooks to master the art of refined cookin’. I ken I was doing them a service byelevatin’ their span of…er… repertoire. Our homespun backwoods cookin’ needed a littleuplift. When we’re married, I’ll share the same recipes with our cook.”

Evan privately disagreed; those who handled his kitchen at home did fine without anyforeign influence, but he feigned interest in what was before him, just to appease her,“Tell me again, what food is which?”

Miss Milleson giggled and began on a light monologue of which food was which, and whatmade it. The tiny utensils provided for them to eat with were dwarfed in his hand, and hefelt that he was going to be sick after eating all these sweet things.

“I need water,” he said abruptly, while swallowing over the thickness in his throat.

Instantly, Miss Milleson stopped her chatter and said, “Of course.”

She called for a servant who came in quickly. Dismissively, she ordered the woman,“Bring us a pitcher of cooled water, and some napkins.”

Noting how she had not even looked at the servant, Evan felt more disturbed. When thewoman was gone, he asked, “Do ye ken, who that woman is?”

Miss Milleson waved, “Nay. If I barely remember my lady maids’ names, I’d be hardpressed to ken everyone who serves here. Why? Do ye ken any of yers?”

“I ken a good number of them by name, aye,” he replied.

She looked genuinely confused, and it was her honest confusion about why he would careto know a servant’s name, that had his stomach in uneasy knots.

“Why?” she asked.

Evan swallowed over his disappointment. She was smart but had little compassion forthose around her.

Mayhap it’s somethin’ we can train out of her?

“Because it helps to gain their loyalty,” he replied.

The servant woman came back and held the pitcher until Miss Milleson permitted her topour. She filled both goblets, and Evan took his, grateful that he could wash away thestickiness in his mouth.

Miss Milleson—did not.

She slammed her goblet down and, in an icy voice, said, “I said cool water; this is tepidand nearly warm. Have ye nay sense? This is revoltin’. Get us some cool water, and I’llhave Faither speak to ye after this. Leave us and come back with the right thing!”

Evan sat his goblet down, fully repulsed at her unwarranted anger, but when she addedto her unkind words, he knew he had to leave.

Miss Milleson huffed, “Ye shouldnae have heard that, but honestly, these people need tolearn how to do things right. Sometimes I wonder if they have any sense at all.”

His stomach flipped. Pushing the goblet away, he stood, “I must apologize, Miss Milleson,but I have to leave again. All this was lovely, but I just remembered somethin’ I had nottaken care of before I came here.”

Her face contorted in disappointment and fear, then sorrow, “Are ye sure ye have toleave?”

Resolvedly, he nodded, “I apologize again, but I must go. Please, apologize to yerMaither for me.”

She sagged back in her seat, with the same petulant look in her face. Evan turned to the

door when he heard her sullen voice call at his back, “Safe journey, I suppose.”

He took the stairs quickly and left the castle without any interruptions. His horse was sentfor and arrived quickly, saddled, and ready to ride. He swung into the saddle and spedoff, feeling a dense ball of disappointment rest on his chest.

Miss Milleson was a child in a woman’s body. Her parents had done her a severedisservice in rearing her so selfishly and shallowly. She might make a pretty wife, but herpersonality was horrid. Evan aimed his horse toward his home, but at a crossroads, heturned his horse off at a turn to wander through the countryside.

His stomach was upset, and his mind completely retracted from pretty Miss Milleson. Anda line of thought was a loop through his mind.

I’ve made the worst mistake of me life. I cannae marry her.

But how could he tell that to her, her parents, and his mother after he had pledged hiscommitment?

I

5

t was past sunset, but Freya had still not found any mandragora, and she wasgetting worried. Deciding that the best way was to go to the riverside first, she hadsearched there but found nothing. Anxiously, she followed the stream upriver, with

her eyes stuck on the ground, flitting from shrub to shrub.

She had reached a spot of the river where it had narrowed to a shallow sandy pool, andshe could see clearly over to the other side where the steep banks were before they ledto the forest. Freya decided to check over there next, but she kept searching this side ofthe river. Under a thick oak tree, she spotted the telltale leaves of the mandragora plantand knelt to dig it out.

“Finally,” she smiled in relief, dropped the basket, and grabbed the iron tool. She pulledup only two sprouts and sighed. “I need at least four.”

Dropping them into her basket, she turned toward the other part of the forest, but whatarrested her attention, was not the trees but the man lying on the bank—looking dead.His face was turned away from her, but he looked like one who had fallen from his horse,or, one who had suddenly collapsed.

Panicked, she looked around and spotted a dead tree laying nearly halfway across thestream. Hugging the basket close, she hopped on the tree’s trunk and inched her wayacross. With a small leap, she landed on the ground, and timidly approached the man.Resting the basket on the ground, she stepped carefully.

Please, God, daenae make him be dead.

Nearing him, she looked for any visible wounds from an attacker or an unnaturally bentlimb from a bad fall. No splatters of blood were on the ground, no discarded weapon wasthere, and she did not see a horse anywhere near him.

This is bad.

Reaching him, she lightly grasped his shoulder to turn him and see if he was injured—when she found herself flipped and slammed into the ground. Both of his hands werepinning hers to the ground, firmly. A jolt of uncommon heat, starting from where he washolding her, blazed right through her.

His rough touch and the angry hazel eyes were glaring at her with deadly intent beforehis look cleared. His gaze went apologetic, and his hands relaxed a little from hers, thetouch making her shiver and leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake. But just as sheopened her mouth to say something, his eyes narrowed.

“Miss Milleson?” he asked, his tone deep and smooth. “What are ye doin’ here and why…what’s on yer face?”

Freya’s words were stuck in her throat as she gazed at the most handsome man she hadever seen. His hair was light brown and windswept, and his eyes, set over broadcheekbones and square face, were the color of tempered gold. His hands were stillpinning her to the ground, and though her heart was hammering in her chest, she felt nofear. Slowly, her hand lifted to stop from his face and, unwittingly, she wetted her lips.His eyes darted to them before going back to her eyes.

“Answer me, what are ye doin’ here, Elspeth?” he asked, “Did ye follow me, and whathappened to yer face?”

“Who is Miss Elspeth…Milleson?” Freya barely managed.

He pulled away from her and sat back, gazing at her with confused eyes, but would notstop looking at her. “Elspeth Milleson is my betrothed but yer face…” this time, he usedhis knuckles to brush her cheek, and the fleeing warm touch ricocheted through her body,“is freckled. Still, ye look just like her.”

“Me name is Freya,” she clarified, “Freya Crushom. I live in Cillock village, just overyonder, and past this forest. Who are ye?”

“Evan Saunderson,” he said, and before the name clicked with a memory she had, headded, “Laird of Ruthven.”

Instantly, Freya felt like curling in on herself. She was in the presence of royalty and felt…less than. Daily this man interacted with the best people, women, and men with properlearning, and graces who dressed fancy and lived in luxury. They did not know what itmeant to sew their clothes or knead their flour.

Freya felt underdressed, undereducated, and graceless. Moreover, his notice of herfreckles still rang in the air. Though no one in the village had made her feel ashamed ofher face, she knew a lot of people thought it was the mark of a witch.

Does he ken the same?

“What were ye doing, sneakin’ up on me? I was asleep,” Laird Ruthven asked.

“I…I…” again, the words died in her throat. “I was just checkin’ to see if ye were alive. Ikent ye might have collapsed or were thrown from a horse, but me apologies, Me Laird,I’ll leave ye be.”

“Nay, daenae ye leave yet…” he stopped as she moved to stand, “I cannae figure out whyye two look so alike, aside from the freckles, that is.”

“Do they bother ye, Me Laird?” she asked, quaveringly.

“Nay,” he shook his head. “But still—”

She debated on telling him her story, but how could it hurt? The whole village knewabout her heritage, or lack thereof. She hugged her legs closer to her chin, trying toignore how his eyes flitted over her poor drab brown dress.

“I wasnae born in the village, Me Laird. Me parents, Balthair and Caitlin Crushom, foundme on their doorstep, two decades ago,” she said plainly with a tiny shrug. “No one kenswhere I came from, but they took me in and raised me as their own. The people in thevillage are like me, extended family.”

Even with her explanation—that should have cleared the muddled look from his face—theexpression only grew more profound. “Is somethin’ wrong, Me Laird?”

He still did not tear his gaze from her, and though it was a little unnerving, she felt it wasmore curious than intrusive. Laird Ruthven shook his head, “It’s just uncanny. Ye lookexactly like her, as if ye two were…” his jaw dropped and his eyes went wide, “as if yewere twins.”

“But how can she and I be twins, Me Laird?” Freya asked, genuinely bewildered. “Ye saidshe has nay freckles.”

His wave was dismissive, “There are tinctures and other ointments women use to removeblemishes from their faces. They are mostly kent by and given to rich women to use,which is why ye daenae ken about it.”

She deciphered his words, “Are ye sayin’ this Elspeth…is rich?”

“Aye,” he replied, “She is the daughter of the Laird and Lady of Lobhdain.”

Freya felt as if he had stuck her with a blow. How was it possible that she be thedaughter of a Laird? It was so improbable, nigh impossible, so she shook her head, “Thatcannae be possible. Nay one that rich would have sent me away.”

“Ye did say ye were found on their doorstep, aye,” Laird Ruthven said, his expressiondeeply contemplative, “What if ye were stolen, and not sent away?”

His argument had merit, but the mere implication that she was the child of a rich man,tempted too many wild hopes to spring up in her mind. She had to stick to her resolution—that she was just a peasant’s child sent off for a better life. She could not dare hopethat she was the offspring of a Laird and his wife.

“I…” she paused, then shook her head, “I cannae see that.”

“Why, nae?” he asked with a frown. “It does seem very strange and unreal, but just kenof it, what would ye do if it turned out to be true?”

“I still cannae see it,” she shook her head.

Laird Ruthven looked around, and his eyes fell on her basket. “What is that ye’recarryin’?”

“Healing herbs,” Freya replied. “Me neighbor is a healer, but she is old, and cannae getthem herself, so I help her out. Sometimes, I even help her in makin’ the medicines, butthat is nay when I’m out helpin’ at Faither’s farm or at the church.”

“Ye’re nay married?” he said, and his honest shock made her blush. “Why, nae?”

Freya ducked her head, “I cannae tell ye, Me Laird, I suppose time just slipped away and

I…” she bit her lip, then shrugged. “I’m happy about yer betrothal though. I wish ye allthe best.”

“Thank ye.” It was strange that his expression did not change to the happiness she hadexpected even when he uttered his gratitude. He was strangely sober.

His face swung from left to right before facing her again, “Tell me, Freya, if I was to comewith ye and speak to yer parents, would ye allow me?”

“If ye insist, Me Laird, but I still doubt yer suspicion will be right though,” Freya said,while standing and brushing her skirts off. She then paused, “Do ye have a cloak? Nay tosay the people won’t want to see ye, but they are very tense right now. The rumors ofwar comin’ to our gates are growin’ every day. Ye might…er…garner more attention thanye can cater to.”

Her words gave him pause. “I do have a cloak, but isnae there another way to get to yerhome than walking through the village?”

Grasping her basket, she shook her head, “Nay that I ken of. There might be a waythrough the other side of the woods, but I dinnae ken of anyone ever finding a waythrough. And where is yer horse, Me Laird?”

Laird Ruthven put two fingers to his lips, whistled loudly, and soon a large dappled-grayhorse came trotting to its master. She watched as he grasped its reins and kindly pattedits neck. “Should have tied ye to a tree, so ye couldnae wander off.”

He led the massive steed over to her, and its head was a foot higher than hers was. Itsnostrils flared, and she shifted away from its dark eyes, but he did not seem dangerous.

“How far is yer home,” Laird Ruthven asked, “How far do ye travel to get here?”

“A good while,” she replied, “I’ve been searchin’ for these herbs for a few days, and sinceI hadnae found them at home, I journeyed afar off. I’d say, probably a mile or two awayfrom me home.”

“It would be easier to ride,” Laird Ruthven asked. “Would ye like to ride with me?”

Freya bit back her immediate refusal and shifted her basket. “I’ve never ridden a horsebefore on me own, much less with another person.”

“Will ye let me help ye?” he asked.

It’s a chance of a lifetime. After he finds out that I and this Lady Milleson arenae related,he’ll move on, but at least I can say I met him.

“How do we…” she eyed the horse, “there’s one saddle.”

“Ye can ride on me lap,” he said plainly, and Freya blanched. “It’s easy, and furthermore,it’s getting dark, and we daenae have time to waste. If we walk, it will be dark before yeget there.” He came closer and held out his hand, “May I?”

She handed the basket to him, which he placed on the ground. He then grasped herwaist, which had Freya clamping her mouth tight. Never had she had a man’s hands reston her body much less her waist. Laird Ruthven’s hands were large, callused, and long-fingered. He lifted her on to the saddle easily and settled her on the seat sideways.

Freya grabbed at the pomel as the horse shifted under her. “Zounds,” she exclaimed,pale-faced and white-knuckled. “Do they move so much?”

The Laird chuckled, “Aye, they do, and they go faster when spurred on. I ken its best nayto gallop with ye then. Hold still,” he said as he handed her the basket, which she heldclose to her chest.

With one hand grabbing the pommel, and the other on the back of the saddle, he stuckhis foot in the stirrup, and heaved himself up to sit behind her.

When he did settle behind her, Freya inhaled sharply when his arms came around her andgrasped the reins. “Ye’ll be all right,” his low, throaty voice uttered in her ear. So close,she felt the heat from his body and the faint, woodsy scent from his skin, and her chestwent tight. Never had she been so close to a man before, a milestone now claimed by herLaird.

With the first step, Freya’s back sagged back on his chest, and her heart began pitter-pattering in her chest. She clutched the basket tight, and hardly realized when the Lairdasked her which direction to take. When he reiterated the question a third time, shetwisted her head to his, and was rendered mute. His eyes, so close and so bright,eclipsed her vision.

“P…pardon?” she stuttered.

“Which way?” his lips twitched.

“Straight ahead, just follow the path,” she directed—miraculously as her heart was in herthroat. “At the crossroad, ye’ll take a right toward the village.”

“All right,” he said, and the horse ducked into the thick coverage of the forest.

His arms were loose around her body, but she felt they were a close, warm circle aroundher. And when she dared rest her back on his chest, her breath had stilled, waiting forhim to push her off. He didn’t. She began to breathe again, but began to worry.

Worry about how he would react to the tiny, rustic village with wooden homes, dirt roads,and a single stone church, or her modest home made of wood and thatch? And howwould her parent receive him and his ridiculous suggestion?

Me being the sister of a Lady and the daughter of a Laird… pfft. And pigs will sprout wingsand fly.

W

6

hen Freya had uttered the name Cillock, it had sparked a memory. If he wasright, it was one of the leading farming villages in his Lairdship. But knowingthe town was rustic and seeing it, were two different things to Evan. When

they arrived at the village’s gate, they had both came off the horse and began to walkthrough it, so he saw the surroundings.

The homes seemed ancient, sunken in on themselves, like a weak loaf of bread, andwould probably collapse on them if, God forbid, a hail storm rolled in. Evan could bargainthat the current owners had inherited them from their great-grandparents as the onlyheirloom they could give. The villagers were not living in squalor, but with how thehomes were old, it was clear that they had been overlooked in getting help in the past.

There was nothing remarkable about the village, but the scenery above them wasmajestic. The arc of the mountains and the verdant slope of the hills, along with thesounds of the river Evan could hear flowing nearby, balanced the poor image of thehouses he was seeing, but he still vowed to send help.

The roads were mostly empty as lights were coming out from the wooden slat windowsand under their doors. The few people that were on the street, with farming tools slungover their shoulder, called to Freya, and she replied to them kindly. She even stopped toinquire about an ailing mother or a newborn and her happy smile from their replies, wasjust lovely.

Elspeth would have passed by with an arrogant tilt to her chin and disdain in her eyes.That was, if, by some miracle, she did find herself in a country village.

He could see questions on the faces of those who spoke to her, but they never pried. Hehad no problem telling them who he was, but the issue was not raised. They moved off toa cottage at the end of a lane, and light was coming from inside. Freya stopped at thefront steps, the tight grasp she had on the basket told him she was nervous.

“Please stay here, Me Laird,” Freya said quietly as she mounted the stairs and wentinside.

He understood that she had to tell her parents first. Anyone, even those of his class,would be stunned to have a Laird appear on to their doorstep, without prior notice. Helooked around to find a tree to tether the horse to when booted footsteps were behindhim.

“Laird Ruthven?” A man—Freya’s father—called in disbelief.

Turning back, he stuck out his hand to the older man, “Aye, Mister Crushom, it is I, LairdRuthven.”

Mister Crushom dragged his cap off his head, bowed, then stuck out his hand, which Evantook. Over his shoulder, she saw Freya and Missus Crushom linger in the doorway, thewife looking pale and anxious.

“How may I help ye, Me Laird?” Mister Crushom asked. “Freya dinnae say much when Irushed out. Is there a problem with the farm, are the goods nay reachin’ the castle, isthere a—”

“Nay, nay,” Evan cut in with a soft laugh, “Nothin’ like that. I’m sure the goods are comin’to the castle because I havenae been given any complaints from the kitchens but nay, ithad nothin’ to do with the farm. It has to do with Miss Crushom, really.”

“Freya!” the father exclaimed, twisting to look at his daughter. “Did she do—?”

“Nay, nay,” Evan rushed again, reaching out to rest his hands on the man’s shoulder, “Shehas done nothin’ wrong, and I would appreciate it if ye stopped forejudgin’ what I amgoin’ to say. May we talk inside?”

Mister Crushom turned to look at his wife for confirmation, who—though still paleface—nodded. Mister Crushom said, “It’s a very humble home, Me Laird.”

“Doesnae matter to me,” Evan replied. “Please.”

He was led into the one-room cottage with a kitchen nook at the far end. A bedroll wasrolled into a corner of the room while a bigger stuffed mattress was in the most distantcorner. A few stools were scattered, but a large wooden armchair, one Mister Crushomdirected him toward, stood near the central heart.

“Thank ye,” he said while sitting.

“Would ye like somethin’ to drink, Me Laird?” Missus Crushom asked.

Giving her a grateful smile, he replied, “Just water, please.”

With Freya taking a stool, Missus Crushom went for the water, and Mister Crushom stoodat the door. When he took the goblet of water, he drank some and then set it aside.

“I ken ye all are anxious about this war with the Jacobites comin’ at our doorsteps, and Iam doin’ all I can to stop us from being razed to the ground,” he said. “I’ve struck up adeal with Laird Lobhdain to assist me with the forces we might need to keep us all safe…and I am betrothed to his daughter, Miss Milleson.” He raised his hand to stop theobligatory congratulations he knew would come. He then looked at Freya. “But why Ineed to speak to ye is that Miss Crushom…she looks exactly like Miss Milleson. Nighidentical.”

A startled look passed between the two parents, but Freya was perfectly calm andsomewhat doubtful. He knew she still did not believe him, but he was sure he was right.There was no other explanation as to why two women looked so alike. Freya had eventold him she had been found on their doorstep. She was not the Crushom’s child, so shehad to be Laird and Lady Lobhdain’s.

Missus Crushom's lips were tight before she spoke. “It is a possibility, Me Laird, but whywould Lady Lobhdain nae search for a child she birthed and was found missin’?”

“I’d have to ask the Lady herself,” Evan replied. “But me suspicion is that the Lady wastold the bairn died. She wouldnae have any cause to search if the bairn had passedaway.”

“That is a possibility,” Mister Crushom said hesitantly. “But why? Why would someonesteal a child to give to us? And who in the castle would ken about our circumstance sothey would do such a thing?”

“Pardon,” Evan asked, deeply cautious about Mister Crushom’s statement. “What do yemean by yer circumstance?”

“He meant me,” Missus Crushom said, despondently, before she took in a breath. “I ambarren, Me Laird, but I dinnae ken about it after I was married. It took us three years oftryin’ to conceive before I realized I was unable to carry a child. I told those in mefamily…especially a cousin of mine,” she paused to suck in a breath. “Her name wasMatilda, and she used to work in the Lobhdain castle as a healer and a midwife, but,” hervoice dipped to sorrow, “she never said a word to me about stealin’ a bairn. When Freyacame to our door, we just thanked God for her, but now—” her voice broke.

“And now we arenae sure what to do… or ken,” Mister Crushom said slowly.

Evan, though still reeling from the revelation of the lady’s barrenness, could suspect whatthey were afraid of, but took a chance to ask, “Are ye worried ye would be punished?”

“Aye,” Mister Crushom said while rubbing his face with a weathered hand. “Matilda diedyears ago, so I ken she cannae be penalized for this crime…but will we be?”

“I highly doubt it,” Evan replied. “I’d rather ken they would be delighted to see her aliveinstead of dead as they had kent. If ye would like, I can carry ye all to the castle in on themorrow so ye can all speak about it. I have hope, though, that they will nay hold ye toblame for the theft.”

“Are ye sure?” Missus Crushom was wringing a rag in her hands. “I still fear that they willwant to punish us, somehow.”

“The Laird and Lady are very nice people,” Evan replied, “I daenae ken they have anunjust or unkind bone in their bodies. Please, just come with me on the morrow so thatwe can have this sorted?”

Mister Crushom moved to stand behind his wife and lay his hand on her shoulders, andshe instantly relaxed. She twisted her head to look at him and lifted her hand to rest onhis.

“At this point, Me Laird,” Mister Crushom said. “I dinnae see any way around it,” henodded, “We’ll be there on the morrow. May I ask, though, how did ye come across Freyaat all?”

Smiling, Evan replied, “I was in a meadow sleepin’ when Miss Crushom came to see if Ihad taken a bad fall, if I was ill or dead,” sneaking a look at Freya, whose cheeks werepink, he continued. “I had just come from the Lobhdain castle ye see, and I was afraidthat Miss Milleson had come after me when I saw yer daughter’s face. I ken, it was veryfoolish at the time, but ye have to see, I was flummoxed.”

“I made the mistake of callin’ her Miss Milleson’s given name, and she corrected me,”Evan added. “She told me who she was and where she lived. I couldnae leave such atroublin’ matter unsolved, so I asked her to speak with ye.”

“She came to see if ye were dead?” Missus Crushom tutted, “ ‘Tis just like her but, Freya,werenea ye at all concerned if ye might be harmed?”

“But Maither,” Freya protested, “What was I supposed to do? Ye ken that I just couldnaeleave him there. I had even planned to call some of the men from the village to help meif he was dead.”

“Thankfully, I am nae,” Evan said while holding in his amusement. Freya sounded soflustered and annoyed that it was genuinely adorable to him. He stood, and bowed, “Imust be on my way, but I will be back early for ye all. And Miss Crushom, thank ye foryer…er….nay-quite help, I suppose.”

“Ye’re nay-quite welcome, Me Laird,” Freya quipped, teasingly.

From the startled look in her mother’s eyes, it was a quip he felt Freya would be payingfor later, but he loved her sense of humor.

“I bid ye all good night,” Evan said before stepping out into the night air. Mister Crushomcame to the porch to say his goodbye and safe journey, which Evan took with pleasure.

He could find his way to the castle easily from the crossroads, hoping his mother had notsent out a search party for him. As he neared the road to his home, he wondered if hismother would believe him that he had possibly found Miss Milleson’s missing sister.

Even thinking about it, it felt somewhat impossible. If Evan had not seen the lass with hisown eyes, he would have never believed it. What if he had not taken that ride into thecountryside, would he have ever met Freya? Would he have seen her wide, innocenteyes, or hear her laugh? Visualizing her face, he wondered if she had been scorned orexcluded for her face. Many people still held unto the ridiculous belief that women withblemished faces were witches.

He had barely entered the circle of the front courtyard, lit by torches, when a few armedguards were about to ride out. He stopped then, knowing why they were being sent out—for him.

“Halt!” he shouted. “I’m here.”

The riders came to a stop, and Evan had a few words with them before dismissing themback to their duties. He gave his horse over to a pageboy and went inside. He took thestairs to his mother’s room and found her in her dressing gown.

“Evan,” she said in relief. “I wasnae sure if ye’d been harmed or taken—”

“I ken, Maither,” he said while settling into a chair, “But I have a reason for being so late.Ye ken, I went to Laird Lobhdain this morn to speak with Miss Milleson again.”

“Aye,” she said, wrapping the lapels of her dressing gown a little tighter around her chest.“What of it?”

He passed a hand through his hair, wondering how to tell this to his mother delicately.Pulling up all the emotions he had felt in the past few days by making the courtship workwith Laird Lobhdain’s daughter, he poured them all out to her. Telling her, that though,he found Elspeth to be beautiful and smart; he also found her to be selfish and have anuncaring attitude to her servants.

“I daenae ken if I can marry her, Maither, she’s a child in a woman’s body. I ken aboutthe commitment I made and the bond that has started to bind our clans together, but Ifeel that I would be giving up more than I would gain.”

At this point, I’ll take the most sensible option for me people; me happiness can wait.

His words from mere days ago had come back to haunt him, and his stomach felt hollow.

Sagging into his seat, Evan prepared himself for her reply.

Quietly, she looked at him, and her exhale was long, “I understand, Son, but ye cannaebe too hasty in breakin’ off this connection as we are nearly at war. I can only tell ye token through this carefully, and make sure ye approach this tactfully, so ye dinnae alienatethem from making other connections with us,” she then paused, and rubbed the base ofher neck. “Now, tell me what else is botherin’ ye.”

A slow smile began to spread, before he told her about meeting Miss Crushom and howidentical she looked to his betrothed, Miss Milleson. He recounted how he had coaxed herinto taking him to her parents—who though shocked—spoke to him about theextraordinary circumstances of Freya’s life with them.

His mother’s eyebrows were an inch high, “And that would be?”

“Missus Crushom said they found Freya on their doorsteps as a bairn, and that her cousinwas a midwife for the Lady Lobhdain,” Evan explained. “There is nay question she is MissMilleson’s sister. I offered to take them to Lobhdain on the morrow so we can unravel thetruth.”

“And if this lass is their daughter?” his mother asked, “What then?”

Evan felt that his mother was seeing through him, seeing the soft spot he had alreadybegun to have for Freya.

“Maither…what are ye suggestin’?” he asked.

She gave him a pointed look, “Seems to me from the look on yer face, that I am sure yearenae aware ye have shown, but I ken ye like this lass.”

More than ye should, were her unsaid words.

He shrugged, “I do. Freya—Miss Crushom, isnae like the others I’ve met, and if I have thechance to give her a better life, I ken I should.”

Her lips twitched, “As ye should, but still, consider what move ye are goin’ to make withthe Millesons. I ken ye will find a way to break this agreement without making any badblood between them and us.”

“I hope so too,” Evan said, before standing and dropping a kiss on his mother’s cheek.“See ye in the mornin’, Maither.”

“Aye,” she replied. “And Evan…daenae let yer heart lead ye where ye mind wouldnea.”

He paused at the door and rested his hand on the doorframe. He knew what his mothermeant; she was cautioning him about shifting his priorities. She had subtly warned himabout his feelings for Miss Crushom, and that he should take care of how he went aboutdealing with Miss Milleson. Somewhere in there, she was warning him not to let themoverlap.

“Aye, Maither,” he nodded and stepped away.

The day had been a long one, and it had come with a good number of challenges, butthere was one light at the long end of the tunnel. Even if he was not sure what to doabout Miss Milleson yet, he was sure he would be doing right by Freya. Mayhap she wouldchange her sister’s attitude into a milder one.

But even he knew that could never be.

H

7

er mother’s slap to her hand stopped Freya from plucking at her dress. It was theonly proper dress she owned, a deep-green dress with a simple square neck, anda sash around her waist. It was one she wore at church at Michaelmas, Yuletide,

and Easter, and now she was going to meet a Laird and his wife in it.

Freya was not the only one dressed in her best. Her mother had the precious silk dressthat she had married in, and her father had on his family great plaid tied at his shoulder.They were all waiting for Laird Ruthven to come along and carry them to the LobhdainCastle.

She still had grave reservations about being the sister of this Lady. Even if she had comefrom wealth, Balthair and Caitlin Crushom were the only ones she would call her parents.They were the ones who nursed her, raised her, and placed God-fearing morals inside herheart. If these people were her birth parents, she hoped they could have a lovingrelationship, but Freya felt that was going to be a loss if they wanted to groom her into acity lady.

What she knew was sorting out the wheat from the chaff, finding healing plants in wildbushes, and dreaming beside the water’s edge. It was a simple life, one she loved.

And thank ye Maither and Faither for loving me.

All her years in the church, Freya had found an appreciation for knowing more things, andwanted to learn the language the preachers used in church. She knew churchmen knew

Latin by the rites they would read out. She would like to learn some, adding to heressential skill of reading, writing, some basic arithmetic, and knowing the healing arts.

Her eyes drifted to the sky to where the clouds were still slowly chasing each other acrossthe sky. What was it like to live in a castle with servants and sleep in a bed that onewouldn’t have to roll into a ball or had to put into the sun if rain and cold made it musty?Did they eat fancy foods from all over England and France? How did they dress?

“Freya?”

“Hm?” she asked, slightly unhappy that she had been pulled away from her wonderings.

“Laird Ruthven is comin’ with a carriage,” her mother said, with a crinkle of worry set inher brows. “Are ye all worried?”

Seeing the carriage coming near, she muttered, “Somewhat. What if he’s wrong, Maither?What if we are goin’ to be humiliated?”

Her father rested his hand on her shoulder, and she turned to him. “Freya, I ken ye areworried, but the Laird is a smart man. He took control of our land at a very young ageand made it into a very prosperous one. I do have me own reservations about this, but Ihardly ken he’d risk his competence in front of the family he is about to marry into.”

Slightly mollified, Freya took in a deep breath and held it in until the Laird came aroundthe carriage. Seated on that massive horse of his, she got a glimpse of the old warriorkings her father had told her about—Robert the Bruce, Macbeth, and Malcolm the First. Inhis great kilt of red and green, pinned at his shoulder by a gold pin, emphasizing hisbroad shoulders and chest, he had an air of royalty.

He alighted from his horse smoothly and dropped to the ground with his heavy bootsmaking a hard thud on the ground. He came and bowed.

“Good mornin’, Mister, Missus, and Miss Crushom. I hope ye all had a pleasant night,”Evan said to them, but Freya saw his eyes flicker to her more than her parents.

“Aye,” her father bowed in return. “Aside from jitters, we did have a good night. I hope yedid as well.” He then gestured to the carriage. “We should be on our way, I suppose.”

“Aye,” the Laird said. “I sent a message to the Laird this mornin’ to expect company andme today.” He held out a hand to Freya, “May I assist ye, Miss Crushom?”

Self-conscious, Freya looked at her mother for help as chivalry was not something shehad ever experienced before. Her mother nodded quickly, and she reached out. “Thankye, Me Laird.”

Gingerly, she walked with him to the carriage, and he helped her in. While spinning tothank him again, she saw her mother whispering into her father’s ear, and he, looking atthe Laird’s back, nodded.

What are they whisperin’ about?

Soon, her father helped her mother into the carriage before taking his seat and closingthe door. Having never ridden in such a vehicle before, Freya felt her nerves cramp herstomach. Her mother, seated beside her, leaned in, and took her hand.

“I ken ye’ve never been in a carriage before, but there is nothin’ to be afraid off, it is safe,Darlin’,” her mother said.

“Have ye ever been in one before?” Freya asked.

“A few times,” her mother noted as the carriage moved off. “I passed the time by lookin’out the window. Ye’ve never been past this village, and I want ye to look out and see thescenery we pass by. I—we—dinnae ken when again ye might be travelin’, so try to

memorize the lovely scenes.”

“Aye, Maither,” she replied.

What if she did come from wealth? Would her parents want her to live with them? Tohave a life that many dreamed of but one she was sure she would never fit into. A goodportion of her heart wanted this to be a lie, for the Laird to be mistaken and that theLaird and his Lady would let them go with little humiliation.

To distract herself, Freya kept her eyes to the window. After they had passed thecrossroad, the farthest point from the village that she had ever been to, Freya looked andsoaked it all in. They were on a wide road that had extensive lands at each side, but thehills she saw beyond the vast grounds were ones she had never seen before.

The carriage took a road deep into a forest, where the trees blocked most of the sun, andthe beams that did fall rested on thick bushes and wildflowers. But the rest was mainlyshadows around them. It was cooler in the woods, and she watched as they moved fromit to a sloping valley.

The land dipping to the valley was filled with rows and rows of wheat, oilseed, andanother plants with broad leaves that she could not identify. Long lines of men, cladmostly in plain trews or breeches, naked from the waist up, were bent over and reapingthe ripe crops.

Past the farms, they came to a township where a small-town square, had a tall obelisk inthe middle of a stone ring. The buildings glowed with new wood, and a large inn tookprominence among the other homely, cottages, and buildings. Children ran about,ducking in and out of the houses’ eaves with their friends, playing games, and their merrylaughter carried to them.

But the thing that captured Freya’s attention was the castle, tucked in the hollow of amountainside, nestled protectively in its rock embrace. Made of a curious reddish stone,with high towers and turrets, Freya felt her heart leap into her throat and lodge there.

Counting the moments until they got to the gate, the carriage stopped, and the Lairdwent ahead of them. He lifted his arm, and slowly the gate opened, and he rode inside.The carriage moved as well, and they entered into a courtyard where a footman stood atthe large doorways. When she glanced up, she saw more guards pacing the walkwaysabove. Freya had to remain calm, but she was feeling more panic than she had ever feltin her life.

This was a mistake…a horrible mistake. I should never have come here.

Her panic rendered her motionless; even while her father alighted the carriage and hermother followed him, she felt affixed to her seat.

“Freya?” her mother asked cautiously.

Instead of replying, her eyes latched on the castle, and her throat went so dry, and herpanic mounted. How could she have come from people who lived in this? No. This was allwrong. Black spots began peppering her vision, her breath grew short, and her ears feltstuffed with cotton.

Her father came closer, “Freya, are ye all right?”

Somehow, she mustered up the strength to shake her head. Her fingers clenched tightunto the carriage’s seat, white and bloodless. Through the heaviness in her ears, sheheard her parents talking then her mother disappeared from the carriage’s door. Herfather came in and sat near her.

“Freya,” he said, “there’s nothin’ to be afraid about.”

“This was a mistake,” she managed to choke out. “We should have never come here.”

His hand rested on her knee, “I ken ye are scared, but ye need to ken if these people are

yer birth parents. If ye dinnae, ye’d be regretting it for the rest of yer life. I ken ye’vebeen wonderin’ about it for years, Freya, this is the time for ye to find out.”

He was making sense, as she had wondered and agonized about it for years, but it stillfelt fake and just a bit too much to handle. Her bowed head shook, but he reached overand kissed her forehead before getting out of the carriage.

Cold chills were lancing through her body when the carriage dipped, and Laird Ruthvenwas sitting across from her. He looked at her, then reached over and closed the carriagedoor.

“Freya,” he said softly, “please, look at me.”

Stubbornly, she kept her head bent and her eyes on her lap. His hands pried hers fromthe seat and kept them clasped in his warmer ones. “I ken it's very frightenin’ and yerprobably kennin’ it was best to stay home, but I promise ye, ye will never regret comin’here.”

The cold chills began to subside slowly, and she swallowed over the dryness in her throat,“But…what if ye’re wrong?”

“Then, I’ll take complete responsibility for such an error,” Laird Ruthven said. “And if I amwrong, I am sure they willnae make ye feel ashamed.”

He was still holding her hands, and his gaze was soft and comforting. Freya dared hopehe was right. “I’m still scared,” her eyes drifted to the castle just outside the window. “Ijust… cannae see me comin’ from people who lived in there.”

“Come with me, and we’ll find out,” Laird Ruthven coaxed.

Still hesitant, Freya asked, “Ye’re very sure about this, arenae ye?”

“I wouldnae have brought ye here if I wasnae,” he assured her. “Please, come with me.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Freya nodded. Pleased, the Laird let go of one of her hands toopen the carriage door and stepped out, turned, and helped her to the ground. Landingon the path made of crushed gravel, Freya gazed up. The castle was three-stories high onthe outer wings, and the turrets on each corner rose to give the noble castle two morestories. It towered over her, making her feel tiny.

The Laird still held her hand as she came close to her parents, who were lingering nearthe wide front steps. Her father’s eyes dipped to their clasped hands, but he said nothing.

Freya was not sure she would be able to stand if the Laird had not been holding her sotightly. But she found the strength to pull away to hold her father’s hand instead as theyneared the door. This was the house of his betrothed. How would it look for him to beholding another woman’s hand?

A footman bowed to the Laird. “Welcome, Laird Ruthven, and honored guests.”

“Thank ye,” the Liard nodded. “If ye would?”

The footman opened the door to an entrance room with a high ceiling and a bronzechandelier with arms as long as a spider’s legs. Tapestries hung from rafters, covering thewalls, and a thin runner-rug was laid on the floor. Two tables were there, both made ofthe finest, gleaming wood.

Another footman came to them and bowed, “Good mornin’, Laird Ruthven. Laird and LadyLobhdain are inside the sunroom. Please, let me escort ye and yer party there.”

Freya tightened her grip on her father’s, and they took a carpeted corridor to a room thathad a wide, opened door. Laird Ruthven went in, and Freya and her parents were behindhim. Looking around, Freya swallowed tightly; surely, this was a room fit for royalty.

It had to be one with the padded chairs and daybed covered over by silk cloth. The widewindows were placed at the perfect angle for sunlight to shower over every carved pieceof furniture, the large earthenware vases filled with flowers or the vibrant carpet on theground.

“Laird Ruthven,” a woman said lightly. “Welcome, and also welcome to yer guests.”

“I must say, Laird,” a masculine voice added, “I am still nae sure why ye requested thismeeting.”

Freya was grateful that Laird Ruthven’s broad back blocked her from the Laird and hiswife while he spoke. “And I am happy ye gave me this meeting, Laird Lobhdain. With me,are the Crushom family from the Cillock village.”

He stepped aside, and her chest went tight. “Mister Balthair Crushom, his wife MissusCaitlin Crushom, and their daughter, Miss Freya Crushom. I ken there is something aboutMiss Crushom ye might find familiar.”

Revealed, she saw an older man standing behind his wife, thick dark auburn hair, grayingat the temples and tawny eyes. He was still attractive, and held an aura of power abouthim. The lady sitting in the chair had on a deep-emerald dress. She had dark hair, withstreaks of gray, cascading over her shoulder. She was utterly regal.

Freya was not ready for when the Laird and his Lady’s eyes fell on her. The Laird wentstony-jawed, and his wife went pale. She even covered her mouth with her hand. TheLaird, however, was furious.

“Ruthven, what insidious joke is this?” he demanded hotly, “Who is this woman who lookslike me, daughter?”

“Because she is yer daughter, Laird Lobhdain,” Liard Ruthven said calmly, “If ye would,please let Mister and Missus Crushom explain.”

She could see rage tight in the Laird’s face, but he nodded, and they took seats. Freyafelt the Lady’s eyes on her and wanted to shift away but held her composure.

Her father began to speak, telling them where they lived and what he did for a living. Hesaid that he had married his wife nearly twenty-five years ago and how they had troubleconceiving. Her mother then took the story up, explaining how she had told her cousinMatilda, who had been a midwife at the same time Lady Lobhdain had given birth.

“One summer’s mornin’, we woke to find a bairn on our doorstep,” Her mother said. “Wedinnae ken where Freya had come from, but we dinnae question it either. She is ablessin’ to us, and though the question about her rightful parents was still a mystery tous, we would never stop from meetin’ those who were her rightful kin. I do apologize onbehalf of me cousin who had taken her from ye. I can only suspect that she saw mecondition and pledged to help us, even though what she did was wrong.”

Lady Lobhdain’s eyes were watering with tears, and her hand still had not moved fromher mouth. Laird Lohdain’s fury was melting away little by little, and soon the anger wasgone. His hands were on his wife’s shoulder, massaging her shoulders almostunconsciously.

“We were told she died at birth,” Laird Lobhdain murmured, and then his gaze, loadedwith sorrow and disbelief, rested on Freya.

“I came across Miss Crushom by accident,” Laird Ruthven said. “When I saw her, I wassure she was Miss Milleson’s sister.” He then looked around, “Where is she this mornin’?”

“I’ll get her,” Lady Lobhdain said, moving toward the door

Missus Crushom faced Laird Lobhdain, “We do apologize for the pain ye went through,

Laird and Lady Lobhdain, but we dinnea ken that Freya was stolen from ye. We kent shewas a peasant’s child sent away. If we had any inkling that she was yer child, we wouldhave made it right at once.”

Lady Lobhdain came back with another lady in tow. Freya’s eyes went circular—she waslooking at herself. Her mother’s gasp was soft, but she heard it, and her father's face wasstricken.

“Maither?” Miss Milleson said, flicking a curious look at her and her parents.

“Elspeth, it’s a miracle, the sister we kent was dead isnae,” Lady Lobhdain said in awavering voice, “Please, meet Freya, yer sister.”

Standing, Freya clenched her hands on her dress, “Pleased to meet ye, Miss Milleson.”

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orriedly, Evan watched closely for Miss Milleson’s reaction. He had a feelingthat she would not take well to Freya’s arrival. Aside from Freya’s freckles, andthough they were identical in body, the two were like night and day.

Miss Milleson's lips began to curl with scorn, but then she must have realized that fivepairs of eyes were on her, and her sneer transformed into a smile.

Evan’s jaw tightened in anger. How could she still be filled with disdain, knowing that hersister, once thought dead, was back alive, because of the spots on her face?

“That’s wonderful, I…I can hardly believe it. Maither and Faither told me ye had died,”Miss Milleson said.

“I wasnae sure I had other parents, another family…a sister,” Freya replied, her cheekswarming with a light pink shade.

The color made her cheeks brighter, but her speckled face was charming to him. When hehad first seen them, her body pinned under his, he had felt utterly captivated…andattracted. The splatter of reddish dots had given her wide green eyes a flair he doubtedshe knew they carried. He knew that many would feel different, Miss Milleson, mostlikely, who might see such things as an imperfection.

Miss Milleson turned to her parents, “Maither, Faither, are we going to let her stay? Can

we keep her here?”

Why did she have to say that as if she had found a stray cat and wanted to keep it?

“That’s to be decided,” Laird Lobhdain said, thickly. “But I think we should have acelebration. Laird Ruthven, may I speak to ye for a moment.”

He shot an apprehensive look at Freya, Miss Milleson, and her parents but nodded andfollowed the Laird out of the room, to another at the end. It was the first room Evan hadbeen in when Laird Lobhdain had accepted his marriage proposal.

The Laird spoke to a footman, directing him to have the kitchen staff make a feast thenwhen he was gone, turned to Evan with tears glistening in his eyes. His throat worked,and his voice broke at parts when he spoke.

“When ye brought Miss Crushom—Freya—into my sunroom, I kent ye had played ahorrible jest on me wife and me. When Grace lost our bairn so long ago, she was broken,Laird Ruthven, I mean shattered to her soul. She had gone through so much pain todeliver the two bairns only to be told one of them had died. She was weak and criedevery day. I felt hopeless, Laird Ruthven, utterly hopeless. I tried to comfort her, but itfell short. She could not even go to the poor bairn’s burial. It was just the bairn wrappedin a tiny shroud and me.”

His eyes clenched tight, just before his right hand covered them, “She turned all herattentions to Elspeth, indeed doubled them, as she was the only one who had lived.Now…now that ye’ve carried her back to us, alive, I would pay ye half of me wealth forher. Thank ye, Laird Ruthven, Ye’ve healed an old wound me and me wife have neverbeen able to suture for two decades.”

Evan felt humbled that his actions had almost reduced the dignified man to tears. Heswallowed thickly. If this was the pain one felt with losing a child, and he prayed hewould never suffer it.

Offering his hand, Evan clasped Laird Lobhdain’s hand tight, “I couldnae have seen suchan obvious thing and ignored it. I wasnae sure how deep this thing went, but seein’ as itwas a bairn ye lost, I am happy I gave her back to ye.”

Nodding, Laird Lobhdain, pulled away, only to give Evan a searching look. “Ye skippedover how ye truly met Miss Crushom. As we are alone, will ye tell me how?”

“On me last visit, I began worryin’ about various things, the war included. I found meselfwanderin’ around the countryside and found a stream near Cillock to water me horse. Ifell asleep there only to find Miss Crushom, touchin’ my forehead to see if I was alive,”Evan replied.

The Laird’s face showed his surprise, while a gentle smile turned Evan’s lips up at thecorners. He recounted the story about mistaking Freya for Miss Milleson, noting that thefreckles on her face had given him the first inkling that he was not speaking to Elspeth.

“Elspeth had those too,” Laird Lobhdain admitted. “One summer, we were at the coastand were in the sun almost every day. When they came up, she cried, beggin’ us to find away to get them off. A healer gave us a solution of Sundew plant and milk, to take themoff.”

“Have ye decided what to do with Miss Crushom?” Evan asked.

The Laird trained a glance down the corridor, “I would like to keep her here, but Icannae. It wouldnae be right to tear her away from the life she’s kent and loved for solong, but I hope to come to a compromise with her parents for how she might transitionto us over time.”

“That would be wise,” Evan nodded in relief that Freya was not going to be torn from herhome and thrown into a situation that she was not ready for yet. “But Laird Lobhdain, yeshould ken that Miss Crushom nearly collapsed in the carriage when we came here.Would ye do her a kindness in nay making too much of a celebration? She’s alreadyanxious as it is, and I kent with more eyes on her, she will break down completely.”

Rubbing his chin, the Laird nodded, “Aye, I’ll fix that. We should get back to them. ButLaird Ruthven, please ken that I now owe ye more than I could ever offer. Whatever yeask of me, I will give.”

Taken aback by his broad promise, Evan regrouped and swiftly memorized the man’svow. He was not sure when or why he might take that man upon his word, but he wasnot going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Just doin’ me Christian duty, Laird Lobhdain,” Evan said, dipping his head.

They went back to the room with the Laird pausing to direct a servant into clearing theGreat Hall from onlookers when they entered the room to see Lady Lobhdain, speakingquietly with Freya, while, Elspeth sat calmly beside their mother.

Taking a seat beside the Crushoms, while the Laird went to another chair, Evan listenedto the conversation. Freya was telling them about her life.

“When I was a child, me parents had to work long days, so I stayed with our neighborMissus Beathag; she is the healer I was gatherin’ herbs for when I met Laird Ruthven. I’vehelped her brew all sorts of medicines to cure ailments from poisonin’ to relivin’ the achein people’s bones.”

“I’ve never learned such arts, but I suppose we can teach each other,” Lady Lobhdainsaid kindly. “But that comes after we arrange how to have ye here.”

A servant came to the door, and after leaning an ear, Laird Lobhdain nodded, “I ken, meLove, we can sort that out after a good meal. Mister and Missus Crushom, please comewith me. The banquet is ready for us.”

Evan lingered for the Laird to lead Freya’s parents out of the room, and Lady Lobhdainfollowed with her daughters in tow. He breathed out a long breath of relief. Things weregoing better than he had expected, but there was still a tight knot of apprehension he

had arrived with, resting in his gut.

Have I done the right thing?

When he walked into the Great Hall where the table was laden with a feast, he saw MissMilleson’s downcast face and wondered why. He should talk to her later on, but the onlything he wanted to do was to be near Freya.

The head table was laden with a feast, platters of roasted beef and fish, tiny bowls ofspiced sauce, stewed lamb, freshly baked bread, warm flaky meat pies, dark puddings,and bright fruit.

Freya’s eyes were wide as saucers while looking at the table. He could see that this wasmore food than she had ever seen in one place in her life. For him and the Milleson’s, itwas a common occurrence, but for her, it must have driven in the nail that this was wayout of her ordinary life. Her shoulders slumped, and distress marked her face. He tried tomeet her eyes and show her some comfort, but she never looked up.

Poor lass, what I wouldnae do to help her.

“Do ye drink wine, Dear?” Lady Lobhdain asked Freya kindly.

She shook her head, “I’ve never had it.”

“Ye’ll have the mead then,” the Lady nodded, “It’s made of fruit, spices, and honey and isvery sweet. I ken ye’ll like it.”

Freya only offered her a tight smile. Evan shifted his gaze to her parents and saw aprofoundly contemplative look on Mister Crushom’s face, while Missus Crushom’s was paleand sorrowful, as if she was expecting to lose her daughter at any moment.

The servants came with the drinks, and with a lifted goblet, the Laird said, “It’s nayeveryday miracles come to yer home, but today, me house is blessed with the return of achild I had kent was dead. A child we have mourned for years and never expected to stopmournin’ to the day we died, but thanks to God’s mercies and his hand directin’ LairdRuthven right, we have our child back. And to Mister and Missus Crushom, our undyin’thanks for taking such good care of her. We are indebted to ye both.”

Missus Crushom looked a little mollified, but she did not lose her worried look entirely,and as she dipped her head, her husband spoke, “Thank ye, Laird Lobhdain.”

“Please, let us eat,” he said, then waved a hand, and minstrels came in with musicinstruments to play.

Watching Freya intently, he saw her honest delight at the food she picked. He was notsure if she knew how expressive her face was, but he was not going to enlighten herabout it. It felt refreshing to have someone so modest and natural in a world wherepeople were taught how to act. Miss Milleson was taking tiny bites from her meat pie andsipping her wine silently.

The petulant look is gone from her face, but she doesnae look too happy.

Lady Lobhdain was glowing, and her eyes rarely left Freya. Freya had lost some of hernervousness, but Mister and Missus Crushom still looked a little uneasy. He understoodtheir dilemma; if Freya would live at the castle, in the village, or travel between both.They might be conflicted, but he had one as well. Looking between the two, Elspeth andFreya, he felt torn.

Two daughters, one that I am pledged to and the other, one that I am drawn to. Maitherwarned me nay to let me heart override me common sense, but me common sense is notleading me to the one I want. What am I going to do?

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wice had Freya tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. They had finished thefeast, and Laird Lobhdain and his wife had taken her parents and Laird Ruthvenout to speak with them, leaving her with her twin sister, to talk.

Freya knew that they were debating on how to deal with her, where she would stay andwhere she would live. Secretly, Freya felt that it was unfair for them to be deciding herlife without her there, but probably it was for the best as, if given a chance, she wouldchoose to live in the village.

The urge to coil into herself and shrink away grew harder with every passing moment asshe was severely intimidated by the massive castle and the finery she saw all around.Her worst fear was that she would bump into something that was three times more costlythan all the meager possessions she and her parents had.

Now that she was alone with her sister, she did not have the faintest idea of what to say.It was not as if her humble lifestyle had any overlap with the opulence her sister had. Theway her sister moved, the sublime dress, the shine of her hair, and the clean slate of herface made Freya feel discomfited and a little jealous. No wonder she was getting marriedto Laird Ruthven—she was gorgeous.

“Did yer parents ever tell ye about me?” Freya asked, and immediately winced. Of course,they had. Lady Lobhdain had introduced her to Miss Milleson as her sister that they hadthought was dead.

“They did,” Miss Milleson—Elspeth—replied calmly. “But only for a few years. Maitherused to cry on me birthday for those years but stopped when I was eight.”

Unsure if she should feel flattered or sad that her birth mother had stopped thinkingabout her after she had turned eight, Freya nodded. “When is our birthday?” she asked.

“The eleventh day of Augustus,” Miss Milleson—Elspeth—Freya corrected herself, said.“They claim t’was the day Saint Clare of Assisi was born. She was a nun in Italia.”

Freya found herself at a loss; she understood the term Saint, but the word ‘nun’ escapedher completely. Fearing that she would look foolish in front of her sister, Freya justnodded, “If that’s how it is, I suppose that means we must live a good life then.”

“I suppose, it does,” Elspeth said but wrinkled her nose delicately, “From what I’ve read,her Faither was wealthy and gave her all sorts of luxury to live in. But then, she chose tolive under austere means, nigh poverty, and seclusion. Why would anyone born that waychoose such a life?”

After observing the wealth and luxury she had seen in this house and tasted it in theirfood, Freya could understand why her sister was flummoxed. No one but those of anunusual heart would choose to leave a life where one was comfortable to one where theyhad to struggle.

“Mayhap she kent it better to help others than to help herself,” Freya said. “The Bibledoes say it’s better to give than receive, and to love yer neighbor as ye do yerself.”

“Oh, we give,” Elspeth chirped, happily “Every kalends, we give the locals kirk wheat, oil,and beef. Faither is strident about that. He says its only right for us, who have much, togive to those who have less. And ye?”

“Every Yuletide, Maither and I bake some puddings for the village’s kirk celebration,”Freya added quietly. “Our village makes sure to treat all the children there with sweets

and honeyed milk. It’s the one day of the year, and they have such lovely things.”

What she omitted was that the flour they used for those treats, were sometimes the lastof their meal. Handfuls that were used to make their household bread, but never wouldshe admit that.

Elspeth brows lifted in surprise. “Ye bake.”

“Aye,” Freya replied.

Her sister blinked, “With yer own hands?”

What else would I use? Someone else’s?

“Aye. I learned early to bake all sorts of foods, pudding, pies, and loaves of bread. Wemake pies with all the seasonal fruits we have available,” Freya replied.

Elspeth looked at her soft-palmed hands, with long fingers and nails curved perfectly,with dismay. “I daenae ken I’d do somethin’ like that, ever. Thankfully, I have people totake care of that for me. Even last week, I had Laird Ruthven over, and we shared someof the French delicacies, and he loved them. I plan to have his cook make them when weare married.”

A wave of conflicted emotions ran through Freya at the mention of her sister and LairdRuthven’s pending marriage. She was happy that he was getting married, but she sensedElspeth was very self-absorbed. She feared the Laird was going to get hurt.

“I’m happy where I am, and in a few weeks, I’ll be even happier. I’ll be a happily marriedwoman, as Lady Ruthven,” Elspeth's face grew dreamily. “I’ll have a new castle, ahandsome husband, a new family, and more people who will love me.”

A soft pang settled into Freya’s stomach, and she plucked at her skirts with her rough andcallused hands. Nothing like her sister’s. “Do ye ken ye’ll have bairns? Do ye wantbairns?”

Elspeth's lips flattened, “I suppose my new clan will need an heir. My body is delicate, butI’ll do my wifely duty and give my husband his son. I’ll probably have a nurse-woman takehim away while I recover.”

Having another take care of her child was unthinkable to Freya. She didn’t think she couldever part from her child, even for a moment. “What if ye have a daughter first?” Freyaasked. “Are ye willing to carry another until ye have a son? Ye do ken ye cannae force abairn to be a lad or a lass.”

Her sister went pale, a sheen of white turned her skin sallow, “I might have to do it morethan once?”

Freya gave her a wry smile, “Probably.”

Just as her sister was about to speak, Laird Lobhdain and his Lady entered. As withElspeth, Freya began to force herself to think of them as her mother and father, but it feltso strange. Behind them were the only two people she would ever consider her parents;Caitlin and Balthair Crushom.

From the tiny knot she saw on her mother’s face, she felt fear start to build up inside her.Had they decided to leave her there? Rightfully, she was not the Milleson’s child. Herworry grew worse when Balthair reached over and clasped her mother’s hand.

“Maither…” she began to ask before she swallowed tightly, “is everything all right?”

Her eyes flicked to Laird Ruthven, who had entered last. He went to stand behindElspeth, and her stomach tightened. Why was he distancing himself from her? And whyhad she thought that there was something more between them than what it was—an

attraction?

She knew her heart throbbed differently when his eyes landed on her, but perhaps, thatwas just her alone. He was engaged to her sister, after all. It would not be right for himto have feelings for her. But then, his eyes met her, and again, her heart hiccupped.

“Everything is fine, Freya,” her adopted mother said calmly, but the way she gripped herhusband’s hand told Freya something else. “We spoke to Laird and Lady Lobhdain abouthow ye should be able to have access and share the benefits of yer heritage, becausehonestly, ye do belong here.

“We’ve decided that ye will come back with us for a few days, then Laird Ruthven willescort ye back here so ye can stay for two weeks. Then, ye can come to Cillock for aweek. After that, ye will be here for a month or two. If war breaks out, God forbid, ye willstay here with Lord Lobhdain and his wife, so ye are safe,” Caitlin Crushom ended.

“We willnae be in the castle, because it would be strange, but will be in the villagenearby, and can come in if we are under attack,” her father Balthair said. “But this is yeropportunity to let yer dreams come through, a bhobain.”

Again, a mix of muddled feelings ran through Freya. She felt out of place with her blanddress, countryside mannerisms, and ignorance of things that others took for granted.Freya did not want to break her parent’s hearts, and when she looked at Lady Lobhdain’sexpectant face, she felt trapped. There was no way for her to say no, so she just nodded.

“That…seems fair,” she said, “Thank ye, Laird Lobhdain for including me parents.”

With his hands on his wife’s shoulders, the Laird nodded, “Ye’re welcome, Freya. We aregrateful for yer parents who took care of ye, because if they had turned ye away, wewouldnae have seen ye. Just like our debt to Laird Ruthven, our debt to yer parents issubstantial.”

“And we’re grateful for yer compassion and pardon,” her father bowed his head.

Laird Lobhdain glanced to the window, “We’re happy that ye came. I cannae tell ye howmagnificent today has been. I feel God himself arranged this day, and in one fell swoop,so many questions, pain, and sorrow have been wiped away. I’d love to keep ye here, butI ken it is a lot to take in. If ye are ready, it might be the time for ye to take a safe triphome.”

Balthair stood and extended his hand to the Laird, which he shook. “I wish ye all the best,Laird Lobhdain and ye as well, Lady Lobhdain. I’m also very pleased to meet ye, MissMilleson.”

Standing, Freya hesitated before going to embrace Lady Lobhdain. Her body wastrembling slightly, and Freya smelled the faint scent of roses, and when she pulled away,her birth mother’s eyes were glazed with tears. “Thank ye…”

“Ye can call me Lady Grace,” Lady Lobhdain said kindly, “I ken it will be a touch too soonfor ye to start calling me anythin’ else.”

Smiling in return, Freya embraced the Lord, who told her something similar, “It’s LairdAidan for ye, Dear.” He said it curtly, but she heard emotions clogging his tone.

Her last embrace was with Elspeth who, stiffly tapped her on her shoulders. “Safetravels,” she said with a barely there smile.

As she turned, she spotted Laird Ruthven and said, “Thank ye, Me Laird, for all yer helptoday.”

Mayhap it was fanciful of her, but his eyes had a certain sparkle she had never seenbefore. “Me pleasure, Miss Crushom, and aye, safe travels. I am staying behind, as thereare more things Laird Lobhdain and I have to speak over. But as Missus Crushom said, Iwill be there to escort ye back here next week.”

Disappointment was weighty inside her, but Freya hid it, “I’ll see ye then, Me Laird.”

Walking away, she shot a look over her shoulder to see him speaking with Elspeth, and asoft emptiness began to grow inside her. It might be a blessing to have found her lostfamily, but to know that Laird Ruthven would never give her a second look when he hadthe more refined version available to him was painful. It was best that she just let go ofhaving any affection for him altogether.

“Freya,” her mother said, as the carriage came, and they entered, “are ye listening tome?”

Pulled out of her thoughts, Freya shook her head, “Pardon me, I wasnae. It's just…somany things happened today, that I’m still a little…in disbelief.”

Her mother nodded in understanding, “I ken how ye feel, but I was sayin’ that MissMilleson. Elspeth seems like a nice young woman. I’m sure that now that ye will be withher, she can help ye adjust to castle life.”

“I’m sure she would,” Freya said with a convincing nod, if she liked me at all, that is.

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atching Freya leave without him by her side was hard, but he had to stay backand speak with Elspeth. Her parents, Laird and Lady Lobhdain, were overjoyedwith Freya’s appearance, but he needed to know how Elspeth felt about it.

Evan would hate himself if Freya came to a place he meant to make her happy only tohave it become a burden.

They wandered out to the garden with her on his arm. He followed the path where unlittorches stood sentinel until they came upon the center of the garden. A wooden benchrested beneath a large oak tree, and there they sat.

“I’d imagine the events of the day were nay the ones ye had imagined when it wasannounced that I was comin’,” he said diplomatically.

“They certainly werenae,” Elspeth said as she fixed her skirts. “I never kent I’d see mesister again, as the very notion that she might be alive was absurd.”

Her words were halting, and her tone was vague. Evan could not tell if she was pleasedor detested the appearance of her sister, so he prodded a little more.

“When I first saw her, I dinnae believe it meself,” Evan replied.

“Ye said she touched ye, tryin’ to find if ye were alive?” Elspeth asked, and Evan sensedjealousy in her tone.

“Aye, the stream nearby lulled me to sleep,” Evan replied, trying—and failing—to prodwhat he wanted from her. “She was ready to call for help if I was dead. I kent that wasvery thoughtful or her.”

What exactly does she feel about Freya?

“If she’s going to stay with us, I have a few things I’d love to help her with,” Elspeth said,“Like those horrid spots on her face. I have more than enough dresses for her to take aswell. I want her to look the part of a Laird’s daughter.”

She was coming closer to what he was aiming to get from her, but all she was saying wasthat Freya’s appearance was lacking. Was she happy her sister was alive and going to livewith them?

“I did,” Elspeth said. “Ye werenae there, but she expressed a need to learn more. I’msure I can take some time out of our courtship to assist her in her lessons.”

So, in light of her sister comin’ back, all she is concerned about is our courtship.

Evan did not want to believe that Elspeth was that shallow, but it was getting harder andharder to brush the belief off. She did not care much for her servants, but to not careabout her family?

“Freya is a lovely girl, a bit naïve, but she will get seasoned in castle life, and themachinations people do to swindle their way into getting what they want,” Elspeth said,“I’ve seen Maither and Faither have to deal with it and she’ll have to learn nae to trusteveryone.”

Evan was stunned. Where was this wisdom coming from, as opposed to the vanity heknew she lived in? Did this mean that she cared for Freya, in her removed way?

“It is difficult to live how we do, and nae be taken advantage of. I’m glad you will helpMiss Crushom to understand how things work,” Evan said, rather pleased with Elspeth'swords. If she did live up to her promises, and showed him that she could change mayhap,this marriage could work after all.

They spoke lightly about her parents and the effort they would be putting in to makeFreya feel at ease. The conversation strayed to the war hovering on the edges of theirhomes, but it quickly shifted to the wedding Elspeth wanted to have.

“I ken swans are the most magnificent creatures,” Elspeth sighed dreamily. “I’d wantthem behind us while we get married at the edges of the loch. I’d rather have the guestswear the same color and take a bath first. I hate people who smell. And I daenae wantany of that hootin’ and hollerin’ the guests make for the days before the weddin’. It’srather uncivilized. On the eve, where they wash me feet, I’d rather nay have ye or yourmen folk makin’ jests and attemptin’ to watch who of me maids will find the ring. And ifye choose to have yer feet washed, I’d rather be out of the room. The smell of ashes,soot, and cinders are vile to me.”

His eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hair. In one fell swoop, Elspeth had just writtenoff every tradition they had, as if they were barbarians haggling for the last piece ofmeat. He could insist on a few things, traditions that he felt dear to his heart, butultimately, she was the one who had more stake in what the wedding was going to bethan he did.

A servant came to them with a message from her parents that a meal was prepared forthem, and with that, Evan escorted Elspeth back into the castle. The time had slippedaway without his notice, and it was nearly the afternoon when they went back into thecastle. They went to wash their hands before going to the main hall.

People were around the trestle tables, with loaded trenchers and filled goblets. HelpingElspeth to the high table to sit near her mother, Evan sat closer to her father. Servantscame and laid trenchers before them, cups, and trays of mouth-watering foods, and hethanked the ones who placed them there. They put food before Elspeth, but she did noteven look at them.

Laird Lobhdain started telling the plans he had for Freya, with schooling and othertraining. “The tutors are the same ones who taught Elspeth. They’ll do right by her.”

“That’s only fair,” Evan agreed, “she deserves it.”

Elspeth was quiet during the meal, and halfway through it, she excused herself, and, aftersaying her goodbyes to her parents, and farewells to him, she left the hall to her room.Evan was concerned about her sudden departure, but her mother assured him, it wassomething they were used to.

“She has a delicate stomach,” Lady Lobhdain said while calling a servant and orderingsome ginger root tea to be sent up to Elspeth. “After she drinks the tea, she’ll be fine.Thanks for yer concern, Laird Ruthven.”

The Lady reached over and grasped his hand, “Thank ye again. I would have never kentme daughter was alive if ye hadnae carried her here for us. I’d like it for ye to be here asmuch as ye can so Freya can see a familiar face, while ye court Elspeth.”

“Speaking of,” Evan cleared his throat and began to tell her what Elspeth wished for herwedding. He kept his dismay in, while her mother did not look surprised in the least atElspeth’s demands.

The Lady sipped her drink, “I can see her wantin’ those, aye.”

Evan felt he should be surprised at her acceptance, but was not. He could not see himselfhaving a wedding where no part of their tradition would be used. Mayhap her parents,could come around.

On the road back home, he was tempted to go and visit Freya, but he felt that sheneeded time to let all that had happened that day settle in. He arrived home, thankfully,

with no guards ready to go searching for him. Even better, his mother was not in theGreat Hall, where stragglers were lingering behind after the meal.

He checked on his mother first, relating how the day went, and the things Elspeth wantfor their wedding and the fears for the war.

“Try to have a good night, Son, and before ye go, believe me when I say, yer fatherwould be extremely proud of ye,” she said.

Her words made warmth bloom in his chest, and he reached over to kiss her cheek again,“Thank ye, Maither, and good night to ye too.”

Now, a little eased from his constant worries, he went to his room and summoned somewine and water for a bath. No much smoke came from the Jacobite camp, and he beganto wonder why. The absence of the thick plume only enforced the need to summon hisscouts and know what was happening.

Nae reports were sent in. I can only hope ‘tis is good news.

Evan sank into the bathtub with a small groan. Riding for hours at a time took a toll onhis muscles, making them stiffer than ever. Thinking back to the day, he held onto thehope that Elspeth would help her sister through the change she was going to go through.

Freya is so fragile. I wish I could be there to help her, guard her, be her friend, as she’llbe alone.

He emerged from the bath to find a tray of bread, butter, cold meats, and wine on hisroom table and ate a late supper, before slipping to bed and sleep.

Waking before dawn, Evan dressed and found a slip of paper to scribble a note on. He leftthe room, and slipped through the castle to find the rookery. The cawing of crows and

messenger birds was grating to his ears, but Evan found a bird and tied the message toits leg. If the scout got it in time, he would arrive at the castle just after the first meal sothey could speak, and he could plan.

If God has any mercy on me and me people, they arenae coming nearer.

When he emerged from the rookery’s tower, dawn was coming in. The faint pink huebegan to eat away at the indigo sky, and as the orange-golden rays began to come overthe horizon, the mist he had not seen before started to lift off from the ground.

He loved his home, the pure simplicity of the Highlands with the icy air, the vibrant colorof the trees, flowers, and the slope of the hills. The cold, deceptive blue waters of theloch beyond, and the warm, loving, caring souls of the people of his kin and Clan.

Nodding to those he passed by, Evan came into the Great Hall, where the thick aroma offood was in the air. People walked in to get their first meals, while hiding their yawnsbehind their hands. He sat back in his chair and made a broad sweep of the room. If hewasn’t careful, all these people would die.

He had to make sure that he protected them at any cost, and if that meant marryingElspeth and her high-handed ways, he would. A meal was set before him, and he washalfway through it, when a cloaked man—one of the scouts—entered the door, and Evanimmediately abandoned his food.

Hurrying down the dais, he gestured to the man to follow him, and he took them up tohis meeting room. With the door closed behind him, Evan went to sit, trying to control hisrapid heartbeat.

“Conall Finingal, welcome,” Evan nodded, “What news do ye have for me?”

The scout pulled the cloak’s cowl from his head and said, “The troops are on the march,Me Laird…” and Evan’s heart nearly stopped, “toward Perth and Edinburgh.”

“South, they are marchin’ south? Away from us?” Evan uttered in disbelief.

“Aye, Me Laird,” Conall nodded, “Couldnae believe it meself as well, but from what Igathered, they gained more footmen in Aberdeen, and the parish of Oldmeldrum by theworks of bloody James Crichton, old Catholic scourge. Some men came from Braemar andupper Deeside, but the good news is, Me Laird, they are away from our lands, our peopleare safe.”

For now.

Evan felt so weak, that he had to circle the table and sit down, the act mercifully hidinghis trembling knees from the stalwart scout. He braced his elbows on the table andcupped his face with his hand. “They’re leavin’.”

Looking up, he asked. “Does it look as if they will come back?”

“Nay, Me Laird,” Conall shook his head. “Doesnae look that way to me. The whispersaround the camp are that they are goin’ to take the capital because Stuart is wavin’ theone thin’ the troops want the most. Nay that they desire to see the return of the Stuartsto the thrones, but more that they want to dismantle the union between Scotland andEngland.”

Evan felt compassion for those in the city, but he felt profound relief that his land wassafe. He knew it was not safe just to assume all would be well, as the troops could comeback at any time. He would not allow his lands to be found unprepared.

“Finingal,” Evan placed his hands on the table. “I cannae tell ye how relieved I am at thenews ye’ve brought me, but I willnae let our guard drop. I ken ye’d love to be back homewith yer family, but I need ye and yer fellows to stay at yer posts until we are sure thatwe arenae under threat of attack anymore.”

“Aye, Me Laird,” Conall dipped his head. “I understand. T’would be foolish of us to leavethe lands unwatched.”

“Thank for yer sacrifice,” Evan said. “You’re dismissed, Finingal. Please, go to the GreatHall and have a hearty meal. And take some back with ye for yer journey.”

Conall stood and bowed, “Thank ye, Me Laird.”

When the door closed behind him, Evan sagged into his chair. His fear of impendingattack and a massacre of his people was evaporating away like water from a hot stone.

Do I still have to marry Miss Milleson?

He mused over the issue, and decided that, just like giving up surveillance over hisLairdship, it was still too soon to be making rash decisions about the marriage.

He took out paper and quill, to pen a letter to Laird Lobhdain about his newest finding onthe Jacobite troops. If the war was not going to be a pressuring issue, there could bemore time for the courtship. Lady Lobhdain had said that she would rather him be thereto give Freya a familiar face, but he was not sure how to go about that.

How will Elspeth feel about that?

Evan remembered the moment. Before he had said his title, Freya had been so open anddirect, telling him her name and correcting him about Elspeth. But that changed when hehad told her his title. She had looked like she wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear.Her eyes were down, her shoulders hunched, and he got the strong impression she wasscared of him.

It was only propriety that had stopped him from telling her how stunning he found her,and that he didn’t care about her plain dress or rough hands. But how would that have

come across from an engaged man, and one that she did not know at all?

With the letter done, he sat back and twiddled the quill. Freya probably felt that she wasnot worthy in his presence, that he’d look down on her for not having the education orclass that he and his ilk had. He had to persuade her out of those notions.

He did not want her to shy away or hide who she was when he was near her, because heliked the woman he saw. He knew she had more layers to her, and he would love for herto discover them all. But what Evan tried to deny, was that he also wanted to see themas well.

P

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erched at the side of the stream near her parents’ cottage, Freya tried not to thinkof the packed bags back inside the cottage, waiting to be carried out to theLobhdain Castle the next day as dawn broke.

She feared going back to the castle, knowing that there was no one she could turn to forcompanionship. The village was her home, where she felt comfortable and where sheknew how to act. The castle and the city were going to be a whole different matter.

Soon, they’ll realize that I willnae fit in, and send me back here.

The chances of her committing a major error in front of the cultured city people was not amatter of if, but when. She knew her homespun, rustic habits, speech, and mannerismswould paint her as an outcast the moment she arrived there. It was going to be moreevident to those there than someone dumping a bucket of dye over her head and coloringher scarlet.

Thus, she worried. She knew under all calm cordiality; Elspeth did not want her there orlike her for that matter. Mayhap it was how she spoke, or how she acted, even her blanddress, but whatever it was, Freya knew she could never lean on Elspeth for any kind ofcomfort. Moreover, Laird Ruthven was going to be there courting her sister, and she stillfelt insignificant within fifteen feet near him.

Worst of all, she felt—profoundly—that Laird Ruthven was going to make a massive errormarrying Elspeth, but she did not dare tell him that. He needed to marry a lady, and if

she was the only one that he saw fit, how could she persuade him otherwise?

Freya felt that she would become a hermit amid a castle that housed more people than avillage. She already felt that she was being closed off, even though she was not even atthe castle yet.

“Freya,” her mother called her from the backstep of the modest cottage. “Freya, comeinside, Dear.”

With difficulty, she stood and brushed her skirts off, but paused to wish her surroundingsgoodbye. Her legs felt heavy, as if they were lugging lead blocks with them on everystep, toward the cottage.

Entering from the backdoor, she deliberately skipped looking at the packed bags ready atthe doorway, or the dress that she would wear on her journey tomorrow. Her father wassitting in his chair, and her mother was there too. On the table, was a pie, with the thick,delicious aroma of cherry wafting from it.

She felt herself smiling, “What is this?”

“Sit, Dear,” her mother said. When Freya did, her mother took her hands and held both inhers. “For many years, we had little to give ye, but ye took what we had. Never have yeasked us for anythin’, even when ye saw others celebratin’ their birthday, ye kent wewere nay in a position to give ye such things. When we celebrated it on Yuletide, theragdoll or the new dress was enough.”

Sorrow closed up her throat, and a weight settled on Freya’s heart, as she could hear thegrief her mother was holding back. Her hold on Freya’s hands was tight, and with only thelow fire from the hearth, Freya saw tears beading in her mother’s eyes.

“Though ye are going to a place that has more than we could ever have, we ken that itwillnae change ye,” her father said. “Ye are a gracious, kind, selfless young woman,

Freya, with nae a prideful bone in yer body. We kent ye will treat all ye come across withthe same care and compassion ye would give to any of us here in this village.”

Now, Freya was on the verge of crying, but instead, leaned into her mother’s embraceand held on tight. She swallowed over the pending grief turning her stomach sour, andthe painful knot of heartache in her chest. She was only going to leave for a week, then itwould be a month, and after that, possibly half a year to the point she might never seethem again.

While she was holding her mother close, her father exclaimed softly and went torummage at something on a shelf. When he found whatever he was looking for, he cameback and pressed it into her hands. It was a pendant made of tiny glass-like rock,something she had seen many a time on the shallow parts of a river’s bed.

“Missus Beathag said to give ye this, and to wear it in memory of her,” her father said. “Idinnae ken if she made it herself or if it is one of those things she happened to have inher home, but she told me it is yers.”

Holding the pendant up to the fire, from the thin thong it dangled from, Freya saw that itwas not only glass-like, but it also had myriad colors embedded in the creamy stone.Colors that shifted hues with the flickering light of the fire that passed over it.

“T’is lovely,” Freya murmured.

“Aye,” her father nodded as he went to perch on the edge of her mother’s chair. “She alsosaid that ye should remember what ye learned durin’ the time ye spent with her and useit to the betterment of those who will be around ye. She said the little ye have could go along way if ye use it properly.”

Freya laughed, “From all those years spent at her side, I daenae ken I have just a littleknowledge.” Settling the necklace on her lap, Freya looked through the window at therising moon. “I’m goin’ to miss it here. I daenae ken what to do or how to act in the citywhere their lifestyle is so far removed from ours. I’m…frankly scared.”

The strong arm of her father wrapped around her shoulder, and she leaned into him. Hekissed her forehead, “Donae ye worry too much, Dear. Ye’ll fit into it sooner or later, Ibelieve.”

A supporting smile came from her mother, “He’s right, Freya, ye were never one to slackoff when it comes to learnin’ new things. I am sure ye’ll pick up right away. I ken the cityculture is much more refined and all from our humble corner of the countryside, but underit all, ye must remember, people are still people. They have the same needs, wants, andnecessities, we all must have. In the end, it all comes down to having a good heart in allthat we are doing, nay matter how we do it.”

Taking those words to heart, Freya rested the pendant on top of her dress, and smiledfaintly, “How about samplin’ that pie, hm?”

Instead of overpowering her like the week before, Freya’s nervousness only sat heavilyinside her, because she knew what to expect. Just like before the first trip, she waswaiting for Laird Ruthven to come and get her, but unlike that journey, her parents wouldnot be coming with her. Sitting with her bags on the floor beside her, and portions of thepie wrapped in a clean cloth, she stared at the dark sky as it shifted from gray to a warmrose.

Mayhap it was a foolish fantasy, but before the business about her being Laird Lobhdain’sdaughter had come about, Freya had felt…more.

That moment when he had pinned her to the ground, his eyes blazing with anger, theworld could have imploded around her, and she would not have noticed. The intensity ofhis eyes, the firm grip of his rough hands, and the press of his body on hers had birthedan unknown sensation within her.

His heat had flushed her belly, and her heart had fallen out of rhythm. When his burninggaze had dipped to her lips, her chest had gone so tight, and it was a struggle to breathe.Everything inside her had trembled with him over her.

Is this what it meant to desire someone?

Just like her anxiety, Freya hid that away. She could not dare speak them to anyone, forfear of castigation. It was even worse that Laird Ruthven was betrothed to her sister, whowas his wife-to-be. War was nearly at their gates. He needed Laird Lobhdain’s help toprotect them all, and that came with him marrying his daughter.

The clop clop of horses’ hooves had her head lifting to see a carriage coming. Freyalooked to see if the Laird was behind it, but that did not make any sense. The Laird wouldbe in front, riding that massive beast of his. When the carriage came to a halt, the dooropened, and the Laird descended from it.

Clad in a thick, darker gray and blue plaid, he was utterly dashing. His head canted acertain way, and for the first time in her life, Freya understood what an attractive mancould cause within a young lady’s heart.

She stood as her father went to greet him. Laird Ruthven’s eyes flicked to her briefly,then went back to Mister Crushom. She heard them exchange pleasantries.

“Mister Crushom, I’ve told those in me castle and Laird Lobhdain, but I ken all ye shouldken about this war,” Laird Ruthven’s lips were curling in a smile. “I spoke to me scouts,and the Jacobite forces are moving south to Perth and Edina, away from us. The newscame last night.”

Freya’s knees felt weak, and she nearly staggered back. No war. No war!

The Laird kept speaking, “Though it is good for us, I am nay lettin’ up on keepingsurveillance on me lands. We cannae be too careful, Mister Crushom, because oneoversight or lapse in judgment will destroy us. Me scouts are still at their positions andwill stay there until I am sure we are out of the danger.”

Her father stuck out his hand and grasped Laird Ruthven’s hand, “I cannae tell ye how

relieved I am, Me Laird. I feared we would be torn apart by this war, but me prayers arewith ye and that we will escape this all together.”

“Aye,” Laird Ruthven, “I do appreciate it, and it is me hope too that nay one of my peoplewill have to die from a matter that isnae theirs.”

Her father twisted to look over his shoulder to her, then back to Laird Ruthven. “Pleasetake care of Freya, for us, Me Laird. She is very precious to us. Nothin’ matters to us morethan she does.”

“I assure ye, Mister Crushom, she is and will be in good hands,” Laird Ruthven aimed acomforting smile at her. “Nay harm will come to her on me watch, and I doubt herparents would lack in that area as well.” He turned to her, “Miss Crushom, our carriageawaits.”

Before she moved off, Freya embraced her mother and kissed her cheek, “I’ll see ye in aweek, Maither.”

Slipping down the stairs and repeating the same sentiment with her father, she graspedthe Laird’s hand as he helped her into the carriage. She sat at the window as she placedthe bags at her feet.

“All will be well,” Laird Ruthven said calmly as he joined her and closed the door, “I kenit’s a considerable change, but I have strong faith that it will be a good thing for ye.”

Hesitantly, Freya spoke, “Is it all true? There’s…there’s nae war?”

The Laird nodded, “As it is now, aye, but as I told yer Faither, I will be overseein’ thetroops' movements, to make sure this isnae a trick or that they willnae be doublin’ backto the Highlands. As for now, we are gettin’ safer.”

Managing a nervous smile, Freya said, “Thank ye.”

Gazing out the window that faced her parent’s house, she saw her mother lean into herfather’s embrace, rather weakly, and as the carriage lurched off, her mother hid her facein his neck. She bit back a grimace.

“If ye daenae mind me askin’,” she said, trying to not meet his eyes, for the manyemotions tumbling inside her, “why just one carriage?”

“I have to visit the Lobhdain house too,” he said, “It dinnae make sense to take a horseand a carriage.”

She kept her eyes down, feeling his gaze skittering over her. Somehow, she found hervoice, “I am nae sure ye should be alone with me, an unmarried woman. Ye are engagedafter all.”

With her eyes down, she only saw his boots shift. “Ye deanae have to worry about that.What does worry me, is why will ye nae look at me?”

Hesitant to face him, Freya glanced out the window as they passed through the village.When she saw people stop and stare at the passing carriage, she shrank back from thewindow, with her heart a stony lump in her throat. Of course, they would look. It was notevery day one saw their Laird coming with horse and carriage for a peasant.

Is this how me life is going to be? With eyes on me all the time?

“Freya?” Laird Ruthven said quietly, and threads of warmth began to spread through herchest with how he said her name. “Why daenae ye look at me? Ye did it when we firstmet, after I told ye who I was, and ye are still doing it now.”

“I…” she swallowed, “kent it was only right. Ye are a Laird after all. Ye are deserving of

manners.”

“Manners is one, and I’ll take that,” Laird Ruthven said kindly, “But ye shy away from melike a skittish kitten. Are ye afraid of me, Freya?”

Am I?

How could she express her feelings to him, as profound but straightforward as they mightbe? “I feel afraid that ye’ll see me as ugly. I’ve been told a lot of people see these spotsas the mark of one who deals with the Devil. And…” she swallowed, “me sister has herface clear of them. In contrast to her, I must look dreadful.”

After uttering her deepest fear, the silence in the carriage felt louder to her than abeating drum. Of course, the Laird was silent; he agreed with her.

“That is the furthest thing from the truth,” the Laird said sincerely, “Whoever kent yerfreckles are the sign of a witch, should be sent to a madhouse. I happen to find themcharmin’.”

Freya’s head snapped up, and her mouth slipped open in surprise. The honest expressionon Laird Ruthven’s face mirrored his words. In the same breath, she felt her heart leap.“Ye do?”

He nodded and reached over to pry her almost bloodless fingers from the carriage seat.“I’d never lie to ye, Freya. Ye have a wonderful heart, and I’d take it as a personal insultif you shy away from me ever again.”

Freya’s skin heated under his touch, her heart started to race at a frantic pace, and it didnot help that the Laird’s thumb—unwittingly, she had to believe—was tracing circles onthe back of her hand. His grip tightened over hers, before he let go. Now, her palmtingled, as if it missed his touch. She saw the Laird fist his hand onto his lap, and shedared believe he was experiencing the same thing she was feeling.

“Do ye promise to nay shy away from me again?” he pressed.

“Aye,” Freya said, quietly with a slight smile. “I promise, Laird Ruthven.”

He took his hands away from her and sat back, looking pleased, “Ye may call me Evan,since I’ve already taken liberties with yer forename.”

Only when we are alone. I daenae ken Elspeth will like that.

“Thank ye…Evan. May I tell ye a few more of me fears?”

“Aye, and I’ll help any way I can,” he nodded.

Sucking in a deep breath, she told him how she feared to make mistakes in the castleand to look like a dunce in the face of tutors the Laird would get for her. After listening toher, Evan—and it felt so strange to call him that—addressed all of them in one swoop.

“As Elspeth had to learn them, so will ye. I hardly doubt the tutors will be unkind,” hesaid as they approached the Lobhdain castle. “And Miss Milleson has given me her wordthat she’ll help ye adjust.”

Freya held back her reservations on that, as she suspected that her sister had only toldhim that to endear herself to him. Evan leaned forward, and his look was conspiratorial,“And if they dinnae, just send for me, I’ll come chargin’.”

The carriage came to a stop, and her heart took another leap when she saw the Laird, hisLady, and Elspeth standing at the doors to receive her. Worse, six footmen were standingthere, three to each side, and down the steps. It was a bit more than Freya thought shecould handle. Her hand tightly grabbed the pendant on her chest while the other grabbedat the seat so hard she became white-knuckled.

“Here,” Evan stuck out his hand, “let me help ye.”

She nodded numbly before reaching out to take his hand. His grip was firm andcomforting while helping her out the vehicle and onto the ground. She held the bag of pieto her chest while he led her up to meet her parents. As she mounted the stairs, thefootmen bowed, and her cheeks began to warm.

Still too much.

At the top step, Lady Lobhdain flung her arms around Freya and held her tightly, but shehad not let go of Laird Ruthven’s hand, so the hug was awkward. And with the bagbetween them, the embrace was very clumsy.

“So glad to have ye here, Darling,” Lady Grace, as she had told Freya to call her, said.

“Me too,” Freya replied, while, by happenstance, she caught a glimpse of Elspeth’s eyes.They were narrowed to slits and stuck on the hold she still had with Laird Ruthven. Sheyanked her hand away as if his touch had burned her.

Oh no.

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reya’s heart was thumping for another reason. But no one knew it. When the Lairdhugged her, she nearly cowered into his hold. The Laird and Lady wanted herthere, 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 sentme last night.”

Freya shot a look over her shoulder while Laird Aidan took Evan way. She followed theLady and her sister up the stairs and another shorter one to a higher level. She supposedthis 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 anoversized, 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. Squaresof lambskin rugs were on select parts of the room, a couch and three chairs circled thelarge 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, sawa sizeable wooden bathtub, standing on blocks, and a table with a washing basin. Besideit, 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 butdid not ask.

“Here is where ye’ll bathe and soak yer feet if ye would like,” Lady Grace said happily. “Idinnae have much time to get all the things I wanted to give ye, but over time, I’ll havethem 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 LadyGrace. “‘Tis more than I had ever expected, Lady Grace, thank ye, and me parents offerye their thanks as well.”

A flash of sorrow—or possibly regret—passed over Lady Grace’s face, but she inclined herhead. “Ye’re very welcome, Freya. We have a welcome meal for ye that is ready in merooms, 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 birthmother, 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 someof 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 willbe all right.”

When the door closed behind them, Freya went to the bed and touched the coverlet, herfingers skirted over the softest fabric she had ever brushed over. Tugging the wardrobe’sdoor open, she saw an array of dresses, with varied colors, in styles that she had notseen before. Pulling one out, she admired the deep-blue color and the laces thatcrisscrossed in the back. Another was pale green with satiny underlining for the puffedsleeves.

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

She spotted a small bell tower, and a building that could be a church. Her eyes ran overthe lines of houses she had seen before, but now that she was closer, she saw tinychildren playing before one. A woman—their mother, Freya supposed—came and usheredthem 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 werehurting 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 fewvials of painkilling medicine and salve that she had made herself. She was closing adrawer 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 toher ears. She dipped her head. “Greetings, Miss Crushom. I am Miriam. Lady Lobhdainhas 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 arewaitin’ 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 dryingwith 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 andtables laden with food. Lady Grace was sitting there and speaking with Elspeth whenFreya came in, but upon seeing her, stood.

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

“Me Lady,” Miriam bowed her head and left the room.

Seated, Freya looked at her sister, and the silken curtain of her hair, combed over hershoulder, “I saw the dresses, and I ken that they are more than fitting, thank ye again.”

Elspeth's lips curled, “I also have some jewelry ye might like, and bottles of the sametinctures Maither gave me to remove the spots from me face.”

Reactively, Freya’s hand went to her face, and she skimmed her fingertips over her nose.“I’d like that, thank ye,” she dipped her eyes to the table. She kept her head down, whilefeeling both of their eyes on the top of her head. “I see beef and lamb, but what else isbefore me?”

“Deer meat, Freya,” Lady Grace said, kindly, “to yer left. It’s a bit drier than beef, and ittastes of acorns and other nuts that they forage for in the forest. Try it.”

Picking up her knife, Freya cut into the meat and ate it. It was just as Lady Grace hadsaid, less delicious than beef but sweeter. She dropped the knife. “Aye, it as ye said itwas,” she then turned to another dish. “And this one?”

“Stewed hare,” Lady Grace said, “With a touch of honey for sweetness.”

Under the Lady’s guidance, Freya sampled many dishes, a few familiar to her like therabbit stew, but some that were not. Halfway through the meal, Freya felt as stuffed atthe pheasant she was sampling. Between bites, light, non-too intrusive questions flowed.

“When did ye learn to read?” Lady Grace asked while buttering a chunk of bread.

“From a mix of people,” Freya replied. “Me Faither, and the preacher at the church,Missus Beathag also. Me Faither is one of the men who pack up the crop for sending out.They have to be accurate to be sent off. I spent many evenings with Maither at thechurch, and many days with the local healer woman, and she helped me master it.”

She paused to drink some water, but found she had just little more to say. “I supposewhat I had was enough for me to marry from those who were like me, but now, I supposeme fortunes have changed.”

“Ye believed ye would get married in the village?” Lady Grace asked.

Freya’s smile was wry, “Most likely, but I dinnae do anythin’ to bring it on. I’ve foundfriends with some men there, but nothin’ enough to make a move to marriage. Now,though, I realize that me humble talents need more to be added to them.”

“We did agree to havin’ the tutors we used for Elspeth for ye,” Lady Grace said. “So, Idinnae see that being a problem. There are a few suitors who we were lookin’ forElspeth, and I am assured they would like ye too.”

Freya nearly dropped her knife. Marriage—to one of Elspeth’s old suitors? Good god! Allthrough the conversation and the meal, Elspeth had not said a word, and Freya looked ather with concern. “Elspeth, are ye well?”

She sighed into her goblet, “Mostly. Me stomach doesnae feel all that well, but it’s betterthan a few days ago. The cider helps.”

Lady Grace spun to Elspeth with concern marked on her face. She reached over and laidher palm on her daughter’s paling face. “Ye’re a little warm, darling, why daenae ye goand lie down. I’ll take ye to yer room then have Anise attend to ye.”

“Aye, Maither,” Elspeth said, while standing. “Nice to have ye here, Freya. Apologies forme nay interacting with ye much today.”

“I understand,” Freya said. “Rest well.”

As the two of them left, Freya sighed and sagged in her seat. Her eyes coasted over thetable, where after the three of them had eaten for nearly an hour, it was still more thanhalf full of food.

Uneasy, she stood and went to the window; this one, however, showed her the castle’sinner courtyard where, grounds men went around cutting bushes and raking up the fallenleaves. A few other servant women hurried past with buckets of water, or pans of driedwashing. Beyond it was the inner curtain wall with battlements, and walkways where

guards paced from time to time.

The door pushed open, and she spun, ready to ask Lady Grace to excuse her to her rooms—but met Laird Ruthven instead.

“Me L—er, Evan—, what are ye doing here?”

The words Miss Milleson were on Evan’s lips, but they died on his tongue when he sawFreya there instead. With the warm golden rays streaming in from the window behindher, her auburn hair glinted ochre and gold. He went speechless for a breath of time. Shewas naturally breathtaking, surrounded by a halo of gold, and he was entranced.

Clearing his throat, he said, “I came because Laird Lobhdain told me where to find MissMilleson. I planned to speak with her on our engagement.”

His eyes darted to the table, noting the half-eaten foods there, but then flew back toFreya. “I assume ye three had a meal. Is she well?”

“For the most part, aye,” Freya replied, keeping her gaze level with his. “In the end,Elspeth said that her stomach wasnae feeling well, so Lady Grace took her back to herrooms. How…how did the meeting with Laird Lobhdain go?”

Evan left the door half open before he took a chair and moved it closer to her, “It wentwell, to be honest. Now that the threat of war is lessening, we’ve decided to pace thecourtship as Miss Milleson would have wanted it. We still will be monitoring the rebeltroops with me men at different locations than his will be placed at. With any divinefavor, this war will be gone from us completely so we can live in peace.”

Taking a seat near him, Freya folded her hands on her lap, “I’m relieved to ken that. Ifwe did go to war, our lives would be upended. Our fields would be naethin,’ but patchesof dirt after the raiders ravage it, our men would die, and the children would run hungry.”

“Aye,” Evan agreed, “I am very concerned that the lowlands will have to deal with suchhardships, and if they do go to England, it’ll be even worse. But while me sympathies gowith them, I’m pleased that we willnae see such grief.”

“And ye courtship?” Freya asked, “How long do ye ken it will take now that ye have lesspressure on ye?”

“More than a month,” Evan said, “if peace continues. But in the meantime, I will bemaking provisions to help. Wintertime is comin’, and though we havenea had hardwinters in the past, we cannae predict how it will be this time. I’ve made plans to giveyer village new wood and stone so they can fix their houses.”

The delightfully surprised look on her face had Evan smiling. He reached out and held herhand. She jumped at his touch, but did not move away, “I noticed the houses on me wayduring the first ride through Cillock. I cannae believe yer village slipped through menotice for so many years, while ye do so much for me Lairdship.”

Freya’s face colored, “On behalf of those in me village, thank ye.”

Charmed by her reaction, Evan added, “And, as the quota for the barley and oilseed hasbeen fulfilled, or so I’m told by me overseers, I am going to order that the surplus beshared among the families. Winter is coming, and, as I said, we dinnae ken how hard itmight be. Ye will all have more stores of flour and oil to make bread, and cook with.”

Her lips slipped open, and Evan felt inordinately pleased that he had made her happy.Nonchalantly, he brushed it off. “Ye have to admit; yer village deserves it.”

Freya’s hand was curling on his, and her lashes were fluttering. He noticed that she hadtrouble meeting his eyes without blushing, and that touched him deeply. “Did…did ye dothose things because of me, what I did—or tried to do, for ye?”

“Partly,” Evan said, when what he meant to say was, entirely. But he did not want toscare Freya off anymore. She was just coming around with being brave toward him.Telling her that she was the reason he was so generous, might just do more harm thangood. He met her eyes, “But yer village does deserve it.”

She looked away, and a thick lock of her hair broke from her tie. Reaching up, Evantucked it behind her ear, brushing his fingers tips across her cheek in the motion.

She was about to say something more, but Lady Grace entered the room, and stoppedshort. “Laird Ruthven?”

Evan stood, and tugged at his plaid, “Lady Lobhdain. The meetin’ with yer husbandended, and I came to speak to Miss Milleson, but I’m told she is ill.”

“Just a little upset in her stomach,” Lady Grace said, her gaze flitting to Freya for amoment, then back to him, “Naething much, I believe. It might pass by the morrow.”

“I do wish her the best, and a speedy recovery, but I’ll be back on the morrow to see ifshe will be able to walk with me.” Evan said, “And, Miss Crushom, please take me at meword when I said that all will be done to protect our lands. Thank ye for yer hospitality,Lady Lobhdain. I’ll best be on me way.”

“Safe journey, Laird Ruthven,” Lady Grace said.

With a nod, Evan left the room, hoping the Lady would not question Freya too hard abouthis interaction with her. He expected that Freya would take his words to heart, and notadd that worry about her village onto her list of fears.

His promises were also not going to go in vain. Evan decided on making all of what hesaid into reality. The moment he arrived home, he planned on meeting with hissupervisors that ran the storehouses, and give them the directive to share the surplusback to the Cillock village, and any other town that the stores could stretch to and supply.

As for Elspeth, he trusted she would be adult enough to speak to him about their weddingas he was not going to thoughtlessly succumb to all that she wanted—as her parents haddone. Elspeth had to understand that no one was going to give her all she wanted, all thetime, and their marriage was going to be a lesson for her on compromise.

For the time being, he put the worry for Elspeth away and carried the joyful face Freyahad shown him, warming his heart on the way home.

What can I do to see it again?

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s Freya had suspected, the bed she was given swallowed her up. The comfort wasfantastic, and her body had never felt so cocooned by snug blankets before, but itwas strange and waking up a time or two in the middle of the night with fright

cramping her from not knowing what she was lying on was not enjoyable.

After the third time jolting awake, Freya slipped off the bed and made a cot on the floornext to it. The hardness of the floor was much more familiar, and she was able to sleepthere with the pillows and the blankets.

As her body was primed to have her do, she woke before dawn and slipped back into thebed, in case someone was going to come for her and stayed awake until the warm raysstarted to break through the darkness.

I am nae sure I’ll ever get used to this. How can I live here, with a bed—a soft bed—scarin’ me into a panic?

When no one was forthcoming, Freya went to the adjoining room and washed up. Back inthe room, she chanced to look through the wardrobe and see if there was any dress therethat she could wear, but the finery stopped her from picking any.

Instead, she dressed in one that she brought, and made the bed, as massive as it was,and then went to open all the windows. As she was pulling away, Miriam came inside andstopped short at the sight of the straightened bed.

“Oh, Miss,” the maid exclaimed. “Good mornin’. Ye dinnae have to do all this.”

Carefully, Freya asked, “Mornin’ Miriam. Is it forbidden, or is it just frowned upon?” Themaid looked deeply conflicted, and Freya rushed to add on, “Will it be a problem for ye?”

Slowly, Miriam shook her head, “I daenae believe so, that’s if Me Lady daenae see it.”

Relieved, Freya explained, “Listen, I…I’m nay used to this life yet, as, before this, I amused to takin’ care of meself. I feel more comfortable if I can do somethin’, even if it’s assmall as makin’ me bed. Will ye let me do so until a time when I can change over to letye do it? That’s all I ask.”

Again, Miriam looked conflicted, but then she nodded, “I understand, Miss. When I camehere, it was a lot for me to adjust to. But we’ll have to be careful about this. I still have todo me duties around yer rooms.”

Relieved that her new companion was empathetic, Freya asked, “Is there a routine in thishouse?”

As Miriam went to smooth the sheets of the bed, she nodded, and explained that LadyLobhdain rose before dawn, and directed the servants, to clean certain parts of thecastle. At the same time, personal maids, like her, were stationed to cater to all theneeds their lord or lady needed.

“And me, sister, Elspeth, what is her routine in the mornin’?”

Pausing to think, Miriam replied, “She usually sleeps to the eighth or ninth hour, thentakes a bath and then uses an hour to put the tinctures on her face. She then calls for hermeal. Before she finished her education, she used to get up earlier. Now, that she’s in theway for marriage, she takes more time on her appearance.”

Just as Freya was going to ask Miriam how Elspeth treated her servants, Lady Gracewalked in with a satisfied smile. “Freya, Darling, ye’re up.”

She blushed, “I’m an early riser, Lady Grace.”

“And Miriam, good mornin’ to ye,” Lady Lobhdain said, dipping her head to the servant.

Curtsying, Miriam replied, “Good morning to ye too, Me Lady.”

Facing Freya, Lady Grace said, “Will ye join me for breakfast, Freya? Elspeth is still a littleill, but we have a lot of things to talk about.”

“Aye,” Freya stood and nodded to Miriam, “thank ye, Miriam.”

The maid smiled and went to open the rest of the windows, while Freya followed LadyGrace out to her room. It was the same sunroom they had eaten in the day before, butthe meal on the table was less lavish than that one. A display of breakfast food, withcolorful fruits, was on the table, and Freya smelled nettle tea.

As she sat, Lady Grace noted, “Have ye nae found the dresses Elspeth gave ye fitting?”

Dropping her eyes to the drab brown dress she had on, Freya grew flustered. “I wasnaesure which one to pick, they all looked so wonderful, that it made it hard to choose. I’veheard that ye might have dresses for different times of the day, or activities. Perhaps thatis why ye have so many?”

Lady Grace smiled, “That’s for the English and our Royalty, Dear. We daenae have thosetraditions in our home. Elspeth likes dresses. Almost every year, we renew her wardrobe.That’s why she has so many.”

Every year!

“Oh,” Freya blinked. “What other things is she fond of?”

“Let’s eat,” Lady Grace said, waving to the food. “We can talk during it.”

Taking the goblet of nettle tea, Freya drank first, grateful for the honeyed warmth in herstomach.

“Elspeth has a fondness for painting and the seashore,” Lady Grace said. “She tried horseriding once, but wasnae fond of it, so she abandoned it. She loved new fabrics anddresses and keeping her face clear. Elspeth adores theatrical performances, which is whywe send her to the Edina most springs for the plays.”

Nibbling on her beef, Freya nodded, “Up to when Laird Ruthven took me here, I’ve neverpassed me village’s crossroad.”

“We’ll send ye with Elspeth next spring then. T’would be good for ye to ken the city,”Lady Grace said. “I’ve sent for Elspeth’s old tutors so that ye can begin yer lessons. In themeantime, Elspeth’s dresses might do ye for a while, but I ken ye’d like yer own. So, I’vesent for our dressmaker to come and measure ye. Ye’ll tell her what styles ye like, andshe will have them made. If ye want riding lessons, we can have one of our stablemasters teach ye how to ride.”

Freya wondered how the Lady had gotten that all out in one breath. But then, she startedto panic.

Riding lessons, new dresses, tutors for lessons, and trips to Edinburgh. All at once?

Lady Grace’s look was one of a person who was searching for more things to add, butbefore she could, Freya stopped her.

“Lady Grace, I am grateful for all of what ye plan for me,” Freya said, “But mayhap wecan start with a few things? We dinnae have to rush and get everything done at once.”

Calm settled over Lady Grace’s face, “Of course, of course. I’m getting ahead of meself.Silly me. But…” Lady Grace waved her hand, dismissively, “like ye said, start with a fewthings and work up to more.”

She had not forgotten how Lady Grace had suggested that Elspeth’s rejected suitorswould court her, but she was not going to bring that up.

“Let’s possibly start with the lessons,” Freya said, “And mayhap a few house dresses. Wecan leave the fancier ones for later on.”

The twist on Lady Grace’s lips, told her that her suggestion about not taking a wholewardrobe at once was not received well, and an uncomfortable feeling settled in herstomach. As she was thinking of how to make the stifled air go away, a maid knockedand came inside.

“Ruth?” Lady Grace asked. “Is everything all right?”

“Miss Milleson says she is still nay feeling well, and would prefer to stay in bed today,”Ruth said. “She is nay sick, Me Lady, but she wants to stay abed. She’s eaten a few fruitsand bread, but went to sleep again. I will be lookin’ over her, for the day, so ye willnaehave to worry.”

Lady Grace’s face fell, and she sighed heavily, “That isnae what I was hopin’ to hear, butI suppose if she’s on the mend, that’s fair. Thank ye for tellin’ me, Ruth.”

With the maid gone, Freya turned back to Lady Grace, “Does Elspeth have these ailmentsfrequently?”

“Here and there,” the Lady said sadly. “They came on from the first time she got herflux.”

“Daes she feel pain in those times?” Freya asked with concern. “Because I ken how tohelp, and I can make an infusion for her, if need be.”

“Nay,” Lady Grace shook her head. “She’s doesnae have pain, but her stomach getstender, and her mood dips.”

Reaching for another piece of fruit, Freya nibbled into it, but wondered back to whenMissus Beathag spoke about the many issues that arose when a woman had her monthlyflux. Some women did have mood changes, but she was trying to remember if they cameevery month.

“Freya?” Lady Grace asked.

“Apologies,” Freya dipped her head. “I was just kenning about the various cures MissusBeathag—that’s our old village healer—had to help women in those times. I’m nay surewhat I can do, but I’d be happy to help her if she needs.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Lady Grace said, while reaching for her goblet, but another maid cameto the door and knocked.

“Apologies, Me Lady,” this woman said, “Laird Ruthven has arrived, and is askin’ for MissMilleson.”

“Oh, nay,” Lady Grace rubbed her eyes, “I should have sent word ‘tis morn aboutElspeth’s condition. Please, send him in.”

Reaching for her cold tea, Freya downed the rest, to soothe her suddenly parched throat.

Thankfully, Lady Grace stood to accept Laird Ruthven and had not noticed her uneasyactions. When Laird Ruthven came in, she kept her gaze level, as she knew how the Lairdfelt about her shying away from him.

He was dressed casually in a dark tunic and trews. Evan’s hair was wildly windswept, andthough tousled, it looked fetching on him. His eyes swiftly darted to her, and then to LadyGrace.

He bowed, “Lady Lobhdain, I am very pleased to see ye, and Miss Crushom.”

“As we are for ye, Laird Ruthven,” Lady Grace said sorrowfully, “I should have sent wordto ye, Elspeth is still a bit ill. I apologize, that ye’ve made this trip in vain.”

Evan’s brows lifted, “I daenae see me trip being in vain. Ye did say I’m a familiar face toMiss Crushom, aye? Since I’m here, may I take a walk with her?”

Lady Grace looked to Freya then back to Evan, “I did say that, and aye, ye may walk, butlet me send for a coat for her. The day is pleasant, but cold.”

Calling for a maid, and giving her an order to fetch a coat from Freya’s room, LadyLobhdain spoke to Evan for a few moments before the maid came with a thick fur-linedpelisse.

“Would ye like a guide?” Lady Lobhdain asked.

“Nay,” Evan said, “I remember the way on me first walk with Miss Milleson. MissCrushom, if ye would?”

“Thank ye, Lady Grace,” Freya said, her voice a bit stronger than she had expected.Standing, she moved toward the doorway, while Evan stood aside from the door, waitingfor her to cross over first. But as she moved from the doorway, she dropped back to let

Evan lead.

She kept silent as they moved from the castle and out into the lands beyond it. When shehad expected to cross the large grassy inner courtyard, Evan took her on another paththat led her to a garden that was starting to get the bareness from the growing winter.

When they were sufficiently alone, Freya asked, “Ye do ken that I’ve been here for nayeven one day, aye?”

“I do,” he said. “But ye realize that one moment may have a more profound mark on yethan one day might. I ken, because it happened to me when I first saw ye.”

Freya stumbled, and it was a swift reaction from Evan why she had not crumbled to theground. His words, uttered lightly, had struck her with so much force, she had lost herbalance. What did he mean by that? Freya knew the effect he had on her, but how hadshe affected him?

Evan guided her to a wooden bench and, grateful that her quaking knees would get amoment to regain strength, she sat. “I…made an impression on ye?”

His smile was tender, “I kent ye had realized that when I told ye that I found yer frecklescharmin’, and how I asked ye to nay shy away from me.”

Doubtful of his meaning, Freya twisted her head away to look over the garden, “And Ithank ye for correcting me wrong assumption of ye,” She paused, “Does yer home have agarden like this one?”

“Aye,” Evan took a sweep around, “and at the one at me home, ye can feel the treessuccumbing to the frosted hem of Cailleach, the Queen of Winter’s robe. Otherwise, thesweet scent of jasmine and witch hazel would be in the air.”

“At least we’re nay bowing to Smertrius,” Freya murmured. “I believe he would be a hardtask master.”

“As he is a God of War, I kent he would be,” Evan replied. “Ye ken of the gods of the oldways?”

“Some,” Freya said, tilting her face to the pale sun. “When I stayed with Missus Beathag,she would mutter strange names. When I asked her what they were, she’d explain theywere names of old Gods and Goddesses. She would always talk about Airmed, theGoddess of Herbs and Healing when makin’ a brew or a salve.”

“Mayhap I should give her a visit,” Evan said. “Me Maither has pain and swellin’ in herknees from time to time.”

“Ye might nay have to do that. I have some salve for such ailment that I can give ye,”Freya offered, then faltered when his gaze landed on her. “After all ye’ve given me,t’would be little in exchange, but I offer it anyhow.”

“I’d like that, thank ye,” Evan replied, his tone dipping to a timbre that made Freyashiver. “Now, I ken its nay been long, but tell me, what was yer night like?”

“To be honest, I nearly lost meself in the massive bed Lady Grace gave me,” Freyaadmitted. “Was so big, I felt as if I was swimmin’ in it….” she glanced up at him, partlypleased and nervous at the interested look on his face. “Please daenae tell anyone this,but I left the bed, and went to sleep on the floor.” Her face burned with embarrassment.

Her right hand, was covered by Evan’s larger one, “I’d like to tell ye I kent what ye felt,but I cannae. But daenae worry, yer secret is safe with me.”

Freya met his eyes for a heartbeat and then looked away. This handsome man was notholding her, but she felt as if he was. The depth of her attraction to him terrified andthrilled her. He did not move his hand away, and Freya was not going to move either.

“I have a maid, too,” Freya admitted. “That’s another thin’ I’m nay used to. I made thebed this morn’, and she told me that it was her task to do. I made a deal with her toallow me to do it until I can hand it over to her…” Freya trailed off. “I dinnae ken if I willever do so.”

Evan’s thumb made circles over the back of her hand, and, under his touch, her skin wastingling where his thumb left its trail.

“Habits daenae break overnight,” Evan counseled. “Ye might have to make a compromisewith yerself, to do it one day and let the maid do it another. It might start the process forye to let it go.”

Freya inched closer to him, “It might. But what about the other things I’m going to haveto learn to undo? I like cookin’. I dinnae ken Lady Grace will allow me to make me ownmeals from now on. And I ken naything about what to do when the tutor she hires comesto teach me. And a while ago, she even mentioned lookin’ for a husband for me. Whatwill I do then?”

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fierce protectiveness surged into Evan for Freya at the mention of marriage. Whywas Lady Lobhdain thinking of marrying her off so quickly? Was it stated assomething that would happen in the future, or was it a plan already in motion?

The tight press of Freya’s lip stirred more feelings inside him than he cared to examine oradmit. Freya was so innocent and possibly fragile, that again, he wondered if he haddone right by taking her into a life she knew nothing about. The expression on her facewas making him want to protect her—to look after her. And he vowed to do so in any wayhe could.

“Are ye prepared to marry?” he asked quietly.

“Someone who lived a life I kent before this,” Freya said, quietly. “A humble life, onewhere nay one would pay much attention to me. She mentioned some old suitors thatwere turned away by Elspeth. I kent she has the best intentions for me, I could see it inher face, she’s tryin’ to be kind, but I daenae if I’ll ever be ready for that.”

He pulled her closer in an offer of unspoken comfort as her distress was almost palpable.Though he towered a head over her, Evan could bet that if she leaned just a little more,she would fit snugly into the curve of his arm. He glanced at her, but she kept staringahead.

“Lady Lobhdain said a year?” He verified. “A lot can happen in a year, but if ye deanaewant to marry, then daenae.”

There was no reason to be jealous, he told himself, but the burn had already started tosmolder in his belly. He had already started to blame himself for taking her out of hercomfort place and putting her into a situation that she had begun to flounder in. Hewould never forgive himself if she ended up with a husband that would look down on herfor her humble origins.

Freya’s shoulder brushed on his chest, but she did not move away, and the soft smell ofriver water and mint wafted up to him. It was clean, refreshing, and so much removedfrom the cloying scent of heavy perfumes or oils that so many women used. From hermotion, a lock of her hair slipped away from her bun and curled over her temple.

Freya twisted, and her eyes went wide at how close they were. Spots of red dotted hercheeks, as she pulled away from him a little, “Do ye ken there’s somethin’ wrong withnae being married? Who will accept me as the Laird’s daughter but one raised bypeasants?”

“Some might nae,” Evan replied. “A lot of people in me status are trained to only look forwives or husbands from the same rank they are from. They might nay be understandin’enough to appreciate yer unique position.”

Freya sagged onto his chest briefly before she sat up again, rather sharply for his comfort,“Will ye help me if the one she chooses is nae one who would treat me right? Ye’re theonly one I can trust as ye understand me life.”

Her level of trust humbled him. “I promise.”

Freya’s smile was flickering, as worry was behind it. A cloud passed over the sun, and abrisk wind buffered their faces. “I ken it’s time for us to get back inside. Lady Lobhdainmight be getting concerned. And I’d like that salve too.”

“Aye,” Freya rested her hand on his arm as they walked back to the castle and into LadyLobhdain’s sunroom. It was empty, so Freya told him to wait there while she went for the

urn. When she came back bearing a small stone cask, he took it from her.

“May I?”

With her nod, he opened the lid. Thick opaque salve with a slight ochre tint to it wasbefore him, and it smelled deeply of an herb whose name escaped him for a moment.“What is it made from?”

“Goldenrod, olive oil, a pinch of mandragora root, and some sea salt,” Freya replied. “I’veseen it work wonders on the elderly Missus Beathag supplies it to, I dearly hope it willwork with yers.”

Sliding his fingers over the top, Evan pulled them away to rub his fingers together. Thesalve was not too thick and melted away on his skin to leave a soft tingly sensationbehind.

“I ken this might just work,” Evan murmured, rubbing his fingers again. Capping the urnback, he held it close, “Thank ye, and I’ll send word to ye when me Maither uses it.”

Freya tilted her head to the side, “Would ye be interested in a wager about itseffectiveness?”

A bit amused and more impressed about her daring, he said, “Name yer terms.”

She laid two fingers on the lid and tapped it, “If this daesnae bring fervent praises, I’llmake ye a better one, but if ye get those praises, bring me somethin’ ye ken this cure isworth.”

His brows darted up, “Ye’re assured it will bring praises, whether fervent or middling?What if there are nay any praises, at all?”

Freya shook her head, “That will never happen. I may nay ken much about many things,but this—medicine—is what I do ken. Do ye accept me, wager?”

I like this darin’ side of ye even more.

“Aye,” Evan said, tucking the urn closer, “yer wager is accepted.”

Using his free hand, Evan fingered the stray lock of hair on her cheek before he tucked itbehind her ear. As his fingertips skated over her skin, she shivered and pulled away, buther fluttering lashes told him she had felt it too.

“Ye have stubborn hair,” he teased gently. “But then, somethin’ is allowed to break therules.”

“Would ye like me to follow ye to the door?” Freya said—and was her voice just a littlebreathy?

“‘Tis nay necessary,” Evan said, then added in a regretful tone. “If ye see Miss Milleson,give her me regards. I’d hope to speak to her about our weddin’, but another day itseems.”

“If I see her, I’ll pass on the message,” Freya replied. “She might be up a bit—.”

Lady Lobhdain, came into the room, her expression a little surprised. “Oh, dear me, LairdRuthven, I kent ye had left.”

“‘Tis me fault, Lady Lobhdain,” Evan took the blame graciously, “Our talk wavered fromhither to yon, and time slipped past us. Miss Crushom volunteered a remedy for meMaither’s stiff knees, and I’m grateful. With that, however, I believe I’ll just take meleave. I’ve asked Miss Crushom to pass over me respects to Miss Milleson, but I supposeye both might take the message. Good day, Ladies.”

Bowing, he smiled at Freya’s reddened face, and with warm contentment resting on hischest, he left the room and the house. Holding the urn close, he waited for the horse tocome around. He slipped the jar into the saddlebag and hopped onto the large mount.

I’m nay sorry about nae seeing Elspeth; speakin’ with Freya was more satisfyin’.

He rode off, mulling over the fact that Lady Lobhdain was planning to marry Freya off andfelt the same burning smolder of jealousy heat inside him.

Where is this comin’ from? I have me own marriage to handle, and I’m actin’ like a ladwho got spurned by the lass he likes.

Was that it? He slowed his horse’s speed down to a trot and thought back to thosemoments in the garden, how he wanted Freya to lean on him, how pleased he felt whenshe smiled, and how her distress made him feel out of sorts, but it was the mention ofmarriage that lit a bonfire inside him.

Never have I felt those emotions for Elspeth.

He wanted to see Freya happy—but not with a man that was not him—and that stoppedhim cold. He had given the Laird his word that he would not look at any other womanwhile his intentions were for Elspeth.

He wanted to give Elspeth a chance, but Freya was capturing his attention. She waseverything Elspeth was not—she was kind, generous, humble, and loving. But he wasengaged.

I have to give Elspeth a chance. I cannae be so fickle. But what if it’s too much to bear?

Inwardly, he winced. If it came to the point where he would request Freya’s hand insteadof Elspeth—it was not going to be an easy thing to explain. The more he thought aboutit; the more his probable explanations felt weak. It was going to be a dark mark on hischaracter and his reputation to renege on such an honorable deal. Shame began to erodehim from inside as he approached his home.

Evan knew he could not utter a word of this to his mother, as he had not fully internalizedit himself. As he rode, his leg nudged against the stone urn Freya had given him, and thatonly made his burden heavier. Passing through the gate to his home, Evan tried to lookthrough Freya’s eyes on the castle looming above him.

The three stories of dark stone and the corner towers that seemed to reach to the skiescertainly had a menacing feel to it. With his horse stalling in the front courtyard, Evangazed up, feeling a sense of profound intimidation wash over him. It was no wonderFreya had panicked that day.

Alighting from the horse, he plucked the urn from the bags, then handed the horse off toa boy and went inside. The tantalizing aroma of food wafted into the entrance hall fromthe Great Hall just a few steps away, but he decided on having his meal sent up to hisroom. Taking the stairs, he got to his mother’s room to find her in a chair at the window.Her expression was mostly peaceful, but had seemed reminiscent as well.

What is botherin’ her?

“M

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aither,” he interrupted her quietly. When she turned, he saw the same thoughtfulexpression. “How are ye?”

A flicker of her lips nearly turned into a smile, but it fell short, “Just kennin’ of yer Faither,Evan. How he would have loved to see ye now.”

Her words had him sobering up, but he pushed the feeling away. Perching on the windowsill, he held out the urn, “Miss Crushom generously gave me a pot of healing salve for yeknees, Maither. Here, take it.”

She reached out and took the pot, plucking the flat cork out and sliding her fingers overthe salve. She then put it to her nose. “‘Tis is goldenrod?”

“Aye,” he said, “with olive oil, some mandragora root, and sea salt. Use it tonight and tellme how it feels.”

“Did she make this?” his mother asked.

Had I told her about Freya?

“Aye, she did,” Evan said. “Back in the village she used to help the local healer, and she

learned the arts from her,” he paused to chuckle. “We have a wager, if it works for ye, Ihave to bring her back something I ken it’s worth—” his eyes drifted to the window as hecontemplated. Shaking his head, he stepped away, and added, “I’ve got to get some foodand rest, Maither. I’ll see ye on the morrow.”

“Evan,” she called at his back, and when he turned, her expression was soft, butassessing. He waited for her to say something that voiced what was on her face, but sheonly nodded to herself, knowingly, “Take care, Son.”

“Same to ye, Maither,” he nodded and took to the hallway down to his room.

Whatever she had held back from telling him, he was not sure he wanted to know, hehad to get himself in order first. Entering his room, Evan sat and removed his boots. Withhis feet flat on the floor, he placed his elbows on his knees and propped his head on hisclosed fists.

Elspeth deserves a chance to prove herself, but Freya is all I see…

He rubbed his forehead. Just as he had done before with seeing his castle through Freya’seyes, Evan placed himself in Laird Lobhdain’s position with his engaged daughter. If hehad a daughter who was spoken for, but then, then the groom-to-be came to him andtold him he would rather have the other daughter than the one that was engaged to him,he’d be incensed.

Every angle he contemplated to lead into that conversation with Laird Lobhdain feltwrong, deceitful, hypocritical, and very cowardly. There was no way around it—he had tobe blunt, tactful, but blunt.

If it comes to that point.

He sent a servant for his supper and then went back to piecing his case into one sensibleargument. Even when his meal was delivered, he ate without any taste to the flavor of

the food. Still, nothing felt right.

Desperately, he took to quill and paper to word out his thoughts, but, yet, it felt—wrong.Worst of all, he knew that this would jab another wall between Elspeth and Freya. Heknew Elspeth was not enamored with her sister, but this was going to make it moremiserable for her—but he needed Elspeth to prove herself before he was driven away.

How would Elspeth receive it that her rustic, uneducated sister, with little knowledge ofthe ‘important’ things or refined culture, would replace her? But there were traits thatFreya had that Evan found were more important than being highly educated and steepedin culture. He found Freya’s compassion, kind heartedness, sense of humor, andselflessness to be more alluring than Elspeth’s push to be an aristocrat.

Nae well, I would ken.

Evan rose to light his fireplace as the room was getting frosty, then with the light fromthe dancing flames, went back to his seat. Again, he came to the same conclusion, theconversation would have to be tactfully blunt, but something had to happen before that.For him to request a sudden change in his intended would demand more questions thanhe had answers, and he knew that he could not say a word against Elspeth’s nastycharacter as they were blind to it.

But what if I am nay the only one who will see it?

A plan, one that might show the Laird Lobhdain, and his Lady that Elspeth might not befit for the post of the Lady of his clan, came to him. Elspeth had managed to get awaywith many atrocities under her parents’ noses, but he was sure she would not be able tohide it, with people she did not know.

I’ll invite them to me home for a while, so they can see how she interacts with the othersaround her.

Perhaps, when they were out of their home, their eyes would be opened to see howElspeth behaved with those who were underneath her.

His worries took him to bed and woke him up before dawn the next morning. Knowingthat he had to put this plan into action, Evan steeled himself and got out of bed toprepare for the day, and after a bath, dressed in another formal kilt and headed out. Hechecked on his mother first, but found her asleep.

Suppose I’ll get that report later.

He left the castle and headed out into the misty morning without a bite of food or a dropof anything warm inside his stomach. Even if he did eat something, Evan felt that hisstomach wouldn’t be able to digest it.

He smelled rain lingering above, but the skies were not growing gray, nor did he hearrumbles of thunder in the background, but he knew a storm was going to roll in. Theunnatural silence only showed that the blizzard was building, and it might be a bad one.

Mercifully, the rains held back, and he made it to Lobhdain’s Castle without a drop of rain.After giving the front footman an order just to hold his mount ready for a quick departure,he was received in the front room by Lady Lobhdain, clad in a thick tartan dress.

“Laird Ruthven,” she exclaimed, with a smile before she embraced him. “Welcome. Inever expected to see ye this morn’.”

He embraced her back, and over his shoulder saw Laird Lobhdain enter the room, “I ken,but I believed it best to deliver me invitation in person, instead of sending ye a missive.In the spirit of our camaraderie, I want to invite ye and yer family to me home for aweek.”

Evan shifted from her to offer his hand to Laid Lobhdain, “There we can speak moreabout the marriage and fusing our clans’ strengths. Moreover, I’d like to show ye some

things and get yer perspective on what I can improve. Lady Lobhdain, ye can look aroundfor the best places near the loch’s waterfront where Miss Milleson wants the wedding tobe held.”

Laird Lobhdain shook Evan’s hand, “I accept yer invitation. When should we arrive,though?”

“I ken in two days,” Evan said diplomatically, “T’would give ye time to set yer steward upto take control in yer absence, and to pack what ye might need for a week. Is MissMilleson back to health?”

“This morn’, aye,” Lady Lobhdain said, “She came to me room to share the morning mealwith Freya and me who, before ye might ask, is also doing well.”

Keeping his eyes on the Lady, Evan bowed, “Happy to hear that. I’ll take me leave, as theair is brewing with a storm. I’d rather nay get drenched on the way back home.”

Something caught his attention from the corner of his eyes, and he quickly looked up tosee Freya meet his gaze with a smile before she ducked out of sight. Where she stoodwas in the same direction where a large window was, so he pretended to be lookingthrough it, at the sky.

Laird Lobhdain followed his gaze and spoke up, “Ye may stay with us, Laird Ruthven, incase ye are apprehensive about the storm. We have more than enough room, and I’msure Elspeth would love to speak to ye.”

He could, but was not going to. He needed them to see what he saw in Elspeth beforethey made any more moves. Evan was sure her true nature would come out there,somehow, and her parents would see it.

With another look at the window, he shook his head, “There are a few matters I need toattend to back at the castle…”Namely, what me Maither found about the salve, so I can

plan me gift for Freya “and I best get back to see to them. Please, give me regards toMiss Milleson and Miss Crushom. Have yerself a good day, and I’ll see ye all at me homein two days.”

Bowing out, Evan left the room and found the footman still holding his horse. The sky wassomewhat fair, but he felt a hard ride would get him back to his home quickly. He set abrutal pace and arrived home just as the angry sky let out its fury.

He dropped into the kitchens to alert the kitchen overseer and house staff to prepare forthe Milleson’s arrival. He wasn’t sure if his people could source the fish Elspeth needed intime, but he had faith they would.

Tugging the plaid away, he pulled on a loose robe and went to the window. The rain wasgetting harder until only sheets of white remained. A sharp burst of wind flung water intohis face, and he retreated inside to light his fire.

Winter was setting in, and soon the rains would transform to snow, and the once-greenfields and glens would be covered with a constant blanket of white. Rarely did hail come,but he could never assume what would happen, so it would be better to prepare in thenarrow window of time they had.

Which is why I need those houses in the villages fixed.

Fixing the belt tight around the dressing-robe, he went to his mother’s room and foundher bundled-up with thick tartan robes and blanket.

“Evan, I must declare, that salve ye brought me is a miracle in an urn,” she said happily.“I’ve used it once and the relief it has brought me, stands to ‘tis hour. Never have I felt somuch relief,” his mother exclaimed before he could say a word.

Evan stopped himself from shaking his head. Why had he thought anything else? Taking aseat near her, he smiled. “I suppose that requires me to bring Miss Crushom a casket of

gold, or the finest silks.”

His mother looked amused, “If she is the simple country girl ye say she is, do ye kenshe’ll like such finery? Ken again, Son. Send her somethin’ from the heart.”

“I may nae have to send it to her, Maither,” he said. “The Milleson’s are coming here, intwo days to stay for a week, and as she is now a part of the family, Miss Crushom iscoming with them. I kent it’s only right for me future bride to see her new home.”

Lady Ruthven nodded, “I ken that is wise, and I’d like to meet this lass, see if she is whatye will need by yer side. But Evan, if ye arenae under so much pressure from the war,why are ye still goin’ into this marriage? If this lass has already made ye doubt yerself,why go on with it?”

“I’ve made a commitment,” Evan replied. “And I plan to follow through with it. If it works,we will marry, but if it doesnae, the Laird and I will part on gracious terms…I pray,” hemuttered under his breath.

I cannae afford to make him me enemy.

His mother’s wave brought his attention back to her, and he gave her a wan smile.“When Miss Crushom comes, ye can thank her yerself.”

“I shall,” she replied, tugging the blanket closer. “As for yer wager, put some deepthought into it, Son.”

Dropping a kiss on her cheek, Evan asked, “Would ye like somethin’ warm be sent up forye?”

“I’ll have me maid do that for me,” his mother said. “Have a rest, Son. Ye look like yeneed it.”

With those parting words, he left his mother's room to his, with ideas tumbling around hismind for what to give Freya. His mind flittered back to a bauble he’d seen hanging aroundher neck. It looked like a fresh-water pearl, but he doubted Freya would have access tosuch wealth. Perhaps it was river stone, smoothed over time?

Perhaps she might love…

Two days passed by in a flurry preparation for the Millesons. Though relieved that all wasgoing as planned, Evan’s worries were trained on Miss Milleson, and how she might actwhen she arrived, and how Freya would be as well.

When the day of their arrival came, Evan was ready to receive them, standing at the frontdoor with only two of his guards, both clad in warm browns and dark leather. He’dremembered how Freya had panicked at seeing the extravagant display the Millesons hadand did not want to have her relive that.

The carriage came through the massive gate, and he refrained from tugging at his tunic,a pure light blue, with elegant gray and silver embroidery on the neck and hem.

Here they are.

The carriage stopped, and he gestured for one of the guards to open the door. LairdLobhdain stepped out first, dressed in his formal kilt, and helped his lady out as well. Shehad a cloak over her dress, probably to shield from the growing cold.

His guard reached in and helped Miss Milleson out. She was resplendent and eyecatching, in a pale dress with long, voluminous sleeves and a lace-up cinch to her waist.Resting on her breast was an amulet with a garnet stone. She had the bearing of a regalqueen. Evan knew she would get his mother’s attention the moment she walked into theGreat Hall.

Evan’s gaze drifted from her to Freya, who was standing behind her in a dark-maroonvelvet dress with silver trim. There was a split in the skirts that showed the pristine whiteunder layers. Miss Milleson was resplendent, but to him, Freya was radiant, even thoughshe was doing her best to sink into the background.

Daenae hide, ye have nay reason to. Yer beauty outshines the stars.

He descended the steps and went to shake Laird Lobhdain’s hand. “Welcome, LairdLobhdain, I hope yer journey wasnae arduous.”

“Nae, it wasnae. Thank ye,” his fellow Laird replied with a hearty shake of his hand. “ ‘Tisa shame that I havenae been to yer home in so long. The last time I was here, was whenyer dearly-deceased Faither was about to be buried. This trip has been long overdue.”

“Glad ye’re here, then,” Evan said, then went to welcome the Lady standing quietly nearher husband.

“Welcome, Lady Lobhdain, happy to have ye here,” Evan took her hands and cuppedthem with his. Looking over to the two younger women, he smiled. “Now that yerdaughters, are here, I believe me castle now holds the prettiest women in the empire.”

The Lady laughed, “Save all yer charms for yer intended, Laird Ruthven.”

Bowing his head to the two, he said, “Welcome, ladies. Please, follow me. Me Maitherwants to see ye all before ye can rest. Later on, we have a welcome feast for ye.”

He led them inside, up the stairs to his mother's rooms, and directly to her sitting room.She was inside, seated, clad in a dark tartan dress with floral-patterned embroidery andblack-frilled trim. Her full-length sleeves were pinned back from covering her hands asshe was doing needlepoint. She laid the canvas aside, and stood.

“Laird and Lady Lobhdain, Miss Milleson and Miss Crushom, I give ye me Maither, MissusAnnys Saunderson, Lady of Ruthven,” Evan introduced.

“Laird Lobhdain, a pleasure to see ye again,” Lady Ruthven reached out. “Twenty-oddyears, from the last, but I am happy ye are still happy and healthy.”

L

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ingering at the back of the group, Freya prayed that she would not draw anyattention to herself—Elspeth could take it all. The dress she wore was the leastflashy one of Elspeth’s donation, but it still drew attention.

She had avoided attention at the Milleson’s for the past four days, and she intended tohave it stay that way at the Saundersons. Sadly, the flickers of Evan’s eyes over her andthe one from his mother as well, told her she might not be so fortunate.

“Miss Milleson,” Lady Ruthven said. “Ye are lovely, and I can see why Evan was drawn toye. I’m lookin’ forward to welcoming ye into me family.”

Elspeth tilted her head up, and her smile was self-satisfied. She dipped out a curtsy. “As Ido, Lady Ruthven, and thank ye.”

Then, as Freya was about to feel relief, the attention she wanted to avoid, was turned onher. “Miss Crushom, I am as delighted to have ye here as well. When Evan gave me thaturn of salve for me knees, I took it in faith, and almost two days later, I have proved it.Ye, me Dear, have a gift. Thank ye for helpin’ me.”

Blood rushed to her face, when it was not only the Lady’s eyes on her, but her family aswell. Her heart was pounding in her ears, but she said, “Thank ye, Lady Ruthven. Yerwords humble me.”

“Ye’re just as beautiful as yer sister, Dear,” Lady Ruthven said kindly, “So, please, stophidin’ yer face.”

Now, Freya’s face began to burn, but she nodded. “Aye, Me Lady.”

She went to her son and laid her hand on his shoulder, “I willnae keep ye. See them totheir rooms, and in an hour or so, I believe all will be ready for the feast. I’ll see ye allsoon.”

Evan took a moment to kiss his mother’s cheek then, said, “Please follow me.”

As she was wont to do, Freya lingered at the back of the other three, and was taken to along corridor where their rooms were. Evan saw Laird Aidan and Lady Grace to onechamber and Elspeth to another. At the end of the hallway, he held the door open tohers.

“Thank ye,” Freya said, relieved that she could get a moment to herself.

“She’s right, ye ken,” Evan said, and her eyes flew up to him. “Maither said it precisely, yeare just as beautiful as yer sister, so daenae hide yer face anymore.”

A bit stunned, Freya managed a genuine smile, “I’ll do me best. I’m delighted yer Maitherfound the salve to be such a relief. Have ye kent of what it’s worth?”

“Oh, I have,” Evan’s mysterious expression piqued her interest. “And ye’ll have to wait forthis evenin’ to find out.”

With that same stone-faced look, he bowed out and closed the door between them, butFreya found herself smiling. She turned to the room and looked around. It was a decentroom, nearly as lavish as the one Lady Grace had given her, but a bit narrower.

There was a bookshelf in the room, and she went to it. Taking one out, she found it filledwith hymns, a book titled, Love at a Loss by Catherine Trotter Cockburn, a Bible andanother book, a tinier one, made with a thin, leather cover and filled with poems.Opening it, her eye ran over one line, and it captured her attention. She took the book tothe chair and popped it on her lap.

Read here the pangs of unsuccessful love,

View the dire ills the weary suffers prove,

When care in every shape had leave to reign,

And keen sharpens every sense of pain.

The more Freya read, the more a dark sensation settled in her stomach, and confusionmuddled her mind. She was not sure what it meant, but she understood that only painwould come from loving someone who did not feel the same.

While mulling over the line, gloomy and dark the prospect round appears, doubts springfrom doubts and fears engender. Hope after hopes goes out in endless night, and all isanguish, torture, and affright, a knock came on her door, and she put the book away.

It was a servant, telling her she was summoned to the Great Hall. When she stepped out,Laird Aidan, Lady Grace, and Elspeth were already there, straightening their dresses. Asthe book was thin and malleable, she was able to stick it into her pocket and then joinedher family as they descended to the Great Hall.

The massive room had her breath stalling in her breast. It was similar to the one theMillesons had, but she had rarely gone into that one. This hall was filled with peoplealong with the trestle tables, but the one at the dais was empty. It was where she wastaken with her family. Evan and his mother were already there, and he stood when theymounted the pedestal. Her eyes ran over the feasting table that was laden with food.

Evan went before the table, and the chatter in the hall hushed. Clearing his throat, heannounced, “Me friends, fellow nobles and honored guests, tonight, we celebrate thearrival of Laird Lobhdain, his wife, and daughters, Miss Elspeth Milleson and Miss FreyaCrushom. The Laird is here as he and I are embarking on a tighter comradeship betweenour territories. They have pledged to stand with us during the threat of war, and theyhave promised to stand with us during peace. I beseech ye to see them as ye would seeme,” he turned to grasp a goblet and lifted it high. “Let the feast begin!”

A cheer went up from the people inside, and Freya wondered why he had not mentionedthe pending marriage between him and Elspeth. And by the soured look on her sister’sface, Elspeth was wondering the same. Deciding that he must have had a good reason tostall that announcement, Freya took up her goblet and took a sip, her tongue touching asmooth-tasting liquid with a heady tang and a lingering sweetness.

I suppose this is wine.

The feast continued with much joy and celebration, with food coming out of the kitchensin heaps and mounds, by the platterful and trayful while darkness was drawing closer.Minstrels came in, and the hall was filled with merry music. While she nibbled over a tightstomach, Elspeth was picking at her fish with a puckered brow.

Freya had seen this reaction before, and she expected Elspeth to leave. She did notexcuse herself from the meal, but her mother did. Lady Grace reached over and pressedher palm to Elspeth’s forehead, then frowned and turned to Evan.

She whispered something in his ear, and he, in turn, looked over to Elspeth, then nodded.With another whispered word to her husband, the Laird and the three stood beforeElspeth was whisked away. Whipping her head to the left and right, Freya stood and shotEvan a smile, before hurrying to follow them.

She followed them to their rooms and lingered at the door when Elspeth was beingcatered to. She gave her good wishes and good nights then went to her room, closing thedoor behind her. Perched on the bed, she removed her slippers and stuck her hand intoher pocket, to look for the book, and it was gone.

“Oh, no,” she exclaimed. “I must have dropped it.”

Frantic that she had lost the Laird’s possession, Freya hurried out from the room anddown the hallway. The door to Elspeth’s chamber was closed, but she heard Lady Grace’svoice inside. Swiftly, she retraced her footsteps, down to the Great Hall, but did not find itanywhere along the way.

At the entrance of the hall, where people were still feasting, Freya slipped inside, and upto the dais. The people were deep into their wine and drunken chatter to hardly give hera second look as she knelt and searched between the chair’s legs. It wasn’t there.

Truly terrified, Freya was about to stand, when a pair of familiar boots were in hereyeline. Now her heart was pounding in fear for admitting that she had lost the master ofthe house’s property to the master of the house. She stood and grasped her skirts andwas about to speak, when a thin leather book was waved in her face.

“Dropped somethin’, did ye?” Evan smiled.

“Aye. I was terrified,” relieved, Freya reached out for it, but Evan tugged it away.

“Take a walk with me?” he asked.

Slightly conflicted, as Freya knew it would be best for her to return to her chambers, shenodded. “Aye.”

They walked close enough that their arms brushed, and when Evan pushed on the door tothe outside, he took her hand and laced their fingers

together. It was chilly, but the thick cloth of her dress blocked most of the frost from

sinking in. Evan led her to a path that was lit by torches that led them to a pagoda.

Its walls were curved, but the windows let in the light from the torches. One handed,Evan tugged the book open and to a slightly crinkled page. “Ye read, To a Young Lady?”

She met his gaze briefly, “I did, but after the first few lines, I…got lost. I dinnaeunderstand what it meant.”

“Which part?” Evan asked.

Placing her finger at the part, she said, “Here, he blasts the beauteous features of thesoul, with various conflicts rends the destin’d breast. What does that mean?”

“Before I explain,” Evan said, nudging her shoulder, “What do ye ken it means?”

She nibbled her lip in indecision, “I wasnae sure if it meant the person she loves rejectingher, or the devil taunting her.”

“It is the spirit of indecision and distress that comes from unsuccessful love, bottled up inthe young lady’s heart,” Evan said, “But here, Oh, beauteous friend, a better fate bethine, still may their star with mildest influence shine, and here, may love approach theein the finest dress, and court thee to domestic happiness. The writer wishes the best forsuch a young lady who has caught herself in such distress.”

“So, she finds happiness in the end?” Freya’s voice slipped to wistful.

“Nae entirely, but that is the impression,” Evan said, folding the book. “The issue withpoetry is the words can be interpreted ten-score ways.”

“Did ye leave those books in me room for me?” Freya dared to ask.

“I did,” Evan said. “I remembered yer desire to learn more, I ken its nay all thatacademic, but it still stimulates the mind.” Placing the book on his lap, he reached intohis pocket and pulled something out. Resting on the flat of his palm was a long hairpinthat had an array of tiny milky stones formed in a flower. “When me Maither told me howwell yer salve worked, I wanted to give a cask of gold, or me precious diamonds, butwhat use would they have for ye?”

He turned and slid the pin into her hair, clasping the bangs from falling into her face, “Yedo have stubborn hair, after all.”

Reaching up, Freya touched it, “It's beautiful, I’ll never part from it.”

The air was charged, with the mist swirling in ghostly tendrils as over the dark land, butwhile it grew cold, Evan’s closeness was affecting her, and an unnatural heat was buildinginside her. He had not pulled away and so close, she could only see his eyes. With theflickering light over his eyes, they changed from amber to warm, liquid honey.

“E…Evan?”

His hand slipped from her hair to cradle her face, tilting it just so that his thumb couldpass over her cheekbone. “Evan, what. . .do you want?"

Evan smile was slight, “Somethin’ that has forced me to doubt meself a hundred times.May I kiss a stunnin’ lady?”

“Me,” she asked, “…stunnin’?”

“Aye, ye are stunnin’,” Evan’s gaze drifted to her mouth. Her heart began to race when hecame closer, as he brushed, barely brushed, his mouth across hers in a kiss, and it awokedeep yearning inside Freya. Her eyes nearly filled with tears.

It was a dream—it had to be. And when Evan pulled away, Freya pressed her fingertips toher mouth only for her hand to be drawn away. His expression was surprised, and it wasas though he half expected she would have run at his touch.

He pressed his lips back to hers, and his tongue traced the seam of her lips. Surprise shotthrough Freya at the touch, but she opened her lips and felt him slipped inside, flitteredover the rim of her teeth, before his tongue caressed hers. Timidly, she kissed him backwhile she sunk her hand into his hair, and his kisses sluiced through her like heat throughbutter, melting her right through.

Freya found herself on his lap, crushed against his chest, the hardness under his shirtpressing into the soft mounds of her breasts. Evan pulled off to drop ghost-like kissesacross her temples, the fragile curve of her eyebrow, and the button of her delicate nosebefore going back to her mouth.

Her tongue met his first, and the timidity from before was gone. Freya grew bold, as thepleasured groan vibrating in his throat sent jolts of flame flicking through her chest. Hispalm, large spans of hard heat, coasted up her waist, then belly, and he cupped herbreast tenderly.

Tremors shook through Freya’s body as his thumb ran over the peak of her nipple throughthe soft fabric of the dress. His lips, now at the crux of her ear and jaw, seared a path tothe base of her throat. The feel of his lips and tongue moving over her skin filled Freyawith a wonder such as she'd never known.

“Evan,” the sound of his name made her freeze where she sat.

Evan! Evan Saunderson—her sister’s betrothed. She had to stop. Pulling away, shegasped in a breath, “Nae, stop. We cannnae…we cannae!”

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lmost lost in the sudden rush of his desire, Evan took a moment to understandwhat Freya said. Her eyes were wide and filled with fear and regret, and her lips,bitten-red and plump with his kisses, were now in a thin, flat line.

Panicked, he rushed to apologize, “I dinnae mean to scare ye, I—”

Shaking her head, Freya laid a hand on his, softly prying him away from her breast, “Wecannae do this, Evan. Me sister, Elspeth, would be devastated. Ye are goin’ to marry her.And besides, someone might have seen us.”

Evan slipped her from his lap to the seat beside him, “If we were seen, I’d own up to it.And the marriage, I’m nae sure about marryin’ her anymore.”

His words had Freya backing away, “Is it me? Is it because of what we did? Evan—”

A thumb was laid across her lips, sealing the nervous words from escaping, “Shh, naysweeting, t’was nay ye or what we just did. Honestly, I’ve had me doubts from the firsttime I was alone with Elspeth. She is rather…spoiled and selfish.”

“Then why are ye still makin’ to marry her?” Freya asked, then winced. “I dinnae mean itthat way. I mean, if ye’re nay happy, why marry her? Why carry us here, to yer home, ifye are nay sure ye want to wed her?”

“It’s complicated,” Evan sighed. “I cannae just break the betrothal because I see howself-centered she is. Her parents are blinded to it and will never take me at me word,above hers. I need them to see who she is and why I cannae marry her.”

“So, this was a ploy?” Freya asked.

“More of a last effort for her to show me she can be a better person,” Evan replied. “I’vetried to give her me doubts, but I have little faith that aside from divine intervention,she’ll change.”

“And me?” Freya asked, nervously. “Why did ye kiss me?”

“Ye need to listen to those who truly see ye and tell ye that ye are lovely, nay only in theface, but yer heart, sweetling,” Evan said. “‘Tis as pure, refined gold. Ye have had solittle, but ye are willing to give so much. I told ye, I dinnae care about yer schoolin’ or yerfreckles. I ken ye are a lovely person, inside and out.”

With her cheeks pinking, Freya asked, “Thank ye, but where does that leave us?”

Sagging into the wooden bench, Evan tilted his head back as if he could see the starsthrough the roof, then, shook his head. “I wish I could give ye a firm answer, but I needthe Milleson’s to see Elspeth’s behavior and meet me half way. It feels weak, anotherman might just break the engagement and have it done for, but I do need Laird Lobhdainin me corner in case another war comes along. I cannae alienate him for me selfishreasons, or me people would suffer.”

She leaned into him, “I understand. In any case, thank ye. I now ken what it is to kiss.”

If only that was all I wanted.

Shifting so she could fit into the crook of his neck, Evan slid a hand down her arm. “Iwanted to do that from the first moment I saw ye,” he admitted. “But I ken it wouldnaebe right. And my head was all sort of confused. ‘Twas the same day, Elspeth showed mehow vain she was.”

“How?” Freya asked.

Bending his head, to meet a tuft of her hair, he decided not to sour the mood anymore,“I’d rather nay speak of it.” Dropping a kiss on her forehead, he added, “I ken it’s time togo back in. Ye might be missed if ye stay out any longer.”

Reluctantly, he pulled away and helped her to stand. Holding her close, Evan promised,“I’ll sort this out, I promise.”

He led her back into the castle and left her in the corridor to her room. Freya’s handslipped through his and left a lasting touch as she went to her door and went inside. Onthe way to his quarters, Evan vowed to find a way to convince Laird and Lady Lobhdain tolet him marry Freya, if Elspeth showed her true colors.

Freya’s touch lingered with him when he poured out a cup of wine to have besides theroaring fireplace. He smiled at the flickering flames with pity; he doubted they were ashot as the liquid fire that had coursed through his blood when kissing Freya.

Her body was a perfect fit in his arms, slender and supple, like a young sapling. HowFreya had reacted to his touch was pouring oil onto a bonfire, so eagerly, and sonaturally, spurring him into crossing a line he never did when he was with a woman. Herbreasts on his chest had begged to be touched, to be held, caressed. He’d obliged, andher response had made him begin to harden.

She was right in stoppin’ us; otherwise, I might have done somethin’ we’d both regret.

The best thing he had done was to stop them, but that did not stop the regret, or the

lingering arousal that was taking a long time to leave his system, for a good reason.Looking back on Freya’s eyes when he’d touched her nipples, he felt the flame flareagain.

Swirling the wine, he thought of what activities he would take Elspeth and Freya on thenext day. Perhaps they would like to see the countryside, and the coast, the massivestones standing tall on the sands of Laigh of Moray, or see the ruins of Elgin Cathedral.

Oh, right, Elspeth doesnae ride, and Freya doesnae ken how to.

Maybe it would be best to separate them, as Freya had stated that her sister was not allthat fond of her. Or, was it best to see them interact first? He placed the goblet on atable, went to disrobe and wash. Tomorrow would tell how the week was going to be,and dearly did he hope that it would be a telling one.

Still reeling from her first kiss, Freya could not drift off to sleep. Her heart was stillpounding a wild beat in her chest, and she could again feel Evan’s hands on her body.Those large palms, the smell of his skin, the thickness of his tousled hair, the glimmer inhis eyes—they all stayed with her in a half daze. She lingered in that state until dawncame and blinking into full awareness, Freya sat up.

Evan had not spoken about what he would do if or when, Lady Grace or Laird Aidan brokethe engagement to Elspeth, but a notion—and a ridiculous one at that—had her believinghe would turn to her.

“He did say, he doesnea care about me schoolin’ or appearance, but why would hechoose me?” she wondered out loud.

By habit, she made the bed and went to wash, quickly braiding her hair into one thicktwist down her back and perched on the chair, to read the book on poetry. Now that Evanhad explained a few things to her, she read the poem with a deep understanding, and atthe end, felt hope spring up inside her.

“That joy may grow on joy, and constant last, and each day rise brighter than the past…”Freya recited.

A knock came, and she went to answer it—it was Lady Grace, clad in a lovely deep cobaltdress. “Oh, good ye’re awake,” her eyes skimmed over the room, and Freya knew thelady saw the made bed. Thankfully, she did not mention it. “Come with us to the mornin’meal, Dear.”

“Aye,” Freya nodded, “How is Elspeth doing?”

Lady Grace’s face lit up, “Very well, thank ye for askin’. Aidan took her out for a walk awhile ago to stretch her legs and look around. I believe Laird Ruthven joined them too.”

Slightly taken aback by that statement, Freya reeled in her reaction and smiled. “I hopethey can join us then.”

Walking with her birth mother down to the Great Hall, she entered and breathed a sigh ofrelief. Laird Aidan, Evan, his mother, and Elspeth were already seated. Mounting the dais,she greeted them and sat, tuning in to Evan’s and Laird Aidan’s conversation about howthe bloody Charles Edward Stuart had been coronated King on behalf of his father, aftermarching through and possessing Edinburgh.

“The good news is,” Laird Aidan said, wiping his mouth and dropping the napkin, “Theyare movin’ further away from us.”

After taking a bite, Lady Ruthven asked, “Evan, Dear, what are yer plans for today?”

“I was plannin’ on taking Laird Lobhdain to see the mines and the fishing loch, andpossibly the grain fields this morn’ to have his opinion on those sectors,” Evan said. “Andthis evenin’ take Miss Milleson and Miss Crushom on a ride to the countryside, withguards, o’course.”

“Wonderful,” Lady Ruthven smiled, “That means I may borrow Miss Crushom for amoment.”

Freya jumped so hard her hand nearly knocked over her goblet, but she righted it in time.“Me?” she squeaked.

“Aye,” Lady Ruthven said, “I’d like to take ye to our healers and have ye show them a fewof yer methods.”

Swallowing over the lump in her throat—because of all the eyes on her—Freya nodded,“I’d be happy to.”

She ate her food, with a peculiar heaviness in her chest at the thought of being alonewith Evan’s mother for an unstated measure of time. With the meal winding down, Freyastood when his mother did, and with her excuses said, left the room.

The Lady took her to another section of the castle, on the ground floor that had a sectionoverhead where a set of stairs led upwards. The smell of burning sage was comforting toFreya, and the women in pale-blue tunics and surcoats passed by with soft, comfortingsmiles.

Tables were set out with mortars and pestles, and dried healing bushes were danglingfrom strings further in the back. Beds were on that floor, but Freya suspected she wouldfind more above.

“Missus Delilah,” Lady Ruthven called, “a moment of yer time, please.” To Freya, sheadded, “She is the head healer here.”

A woman, in a surcoat of darker blue with silver stitching on the neck and arms, cameforward. “Lady Ruthven, what may I help ye with?”

“ ‘Tis Freya Crushom, she was the one who made the salve,” Lady Ruthven said, “I’vebrought her here so she can tell ye how she did it.”

Again, with the attention turned on her, Freya sucked in a deep breath, “Pleased to meetye, Missus Delilah, do ye have any of these on hand….” Freya rattled off a list of plants,and the lady sent for them. With them assembled on a table, she began to show themthe method Missus Beathag used to make the salve.

Attention was squared on her, from more than Lady Ruthven and the head healer, butFreya did not mind. It felt natural to talk about healing with people who understood whatshe meant, and the sage in the air was calming her too.

Stepping back from the table with mortar filled with the crushed leaves and the poweredmandragora root, she added the milk and pinches of salt, she smiled, “Ye leave this tocool in a stone pot, and ye’ll have yerself a tub of salve.”

The head healer took the pot of salt and looked at it with wonder, “Such an obvious thingright in front of our noses, but we never kent to use it in that way.”

“It’s a very delicate balance using salt,” Freya advised. “Like we all ken, it can either cureor kill if nay used in moderation.”

Missus Delilah looked directly at her, “Have ye ever considered a calling in the healingarts, young lady?”

Nervously, Freya admitted, “Before Lord Ruthven found me and took me to Lady Grace,I’d only considered the calling of a wife, someone who kens all things, making remediesfor me husband and bairns, cooking and taking care of the home. I kent I could use meknowledge to bring in more coinage to help me husband, but now I ken that’s nay how itwill go, innit.”

Her words eked a shared look between Lady Ruthven and the head-healer, one thatFreya thought was either pity, or compassion—probably a mix of both—before sheshrugged. “If ye need more cures, I can happily share them with ye during the time I’mhere. I daenae anticipate being anywhere much but for me room.”

“I wouldnae go so far, Dear,” Lady Ruthven said before nodding to her healer, “Good day,Missus Delilah. Please, share what Miss Crushom has given ye with the rest of thehealers. Miss Crushom, will ye take a walk with me?”

Another walk?

Her reply was a nod and a smile, as she fell in step with Lady Ruthven, feeling heranxiety about the pending conversation ratchet up with every step. The Lady led them toa shadowed walk with witling hedges on each side. Stopping to finger a lone leaf, Freyawanted to say something, but her words were stuck in her throat.

“Ye shouldn’t be so hard on yerself, Miss Crushom,” Lady Ruthven said. “I willnae lie andsay I understand where yer coming from, but I ken ye shouldnae ken so little of yerself.Ye have a lot to offer.”

Freya sighed heavily, “Back in me village, away from the outer world with their variouscustoms and demands, I had. I wish I could think as ye want me to, but I am whollyunprepared for this lifestyle. There is naythin’ fitting for me here. Me sister is used to thislife, I am nae, and I doubt I’ll ever be.”

“And that’s where ye’re wrong,” Lady Ruthven corrected with compassion. “Ye might kenye’re nay fitted, but I ken ye’re more prepared for this than ye believe.”

Her eyebrows darted up, “How so, Lady Ruthven? I daenae ken yer fancy cakes andpastries, I’ve never tasted wine before nor do I have a liking for it, I have nay knowledgeof yer dances, clan history, and I have little taste for finery. I ken a plain dress or a silkenone does the same task on a woman’s body.”

Lady Ruthven’s smile broadened, “All I heard was a woman that prioritizes healthy food,and one who kens a simple life is more wholesome. I do agree, a dress is a dress,whether it’s made of cheesecloth or silk.”

“And the dances and clan history?” Freya asked dubiously. “I do ken our noble houses relyon the strengths of their forefaithers more than anything else.”

“Both of those can be learned, me Dear,” Lady Ruthven said. “And based on what ye’vejust shown me, in the healing room, ye’re nay short in the ability to grasp new things. AmI mistaken?”

Grudgingly, Freya admitted, “Nay, Lady Ruthven, ye’re nae. But I feel like I lack in allother sectors. I ken I’m destined to live an abnormality, a woman born from riches butonly kens the ways of peasants.

“Again,” Lady Ruthven corrected, “ye are lookin’ at it the wrong way. Ye have access toboth worlds. Take the common sense from yer humble life, to the richness ye now have,and use it to better both of yer homes.”

Freya’s lips slipped open. Why havenae I kent of that?

“Dresses and jewels or finery cannot outdo common sense, care, compassion, and love,Dear,” Lady Ruthven said. “And it’s me opinion that ye have all the latter. Do nae kenless of yerself Dear, and if ye’d allow me to share a secret with ye. I ken me Son kensmore of ye than any lass he has ever met before.”

Freya nearly slapped a hand to her neck—where Evan had kissed and suckled on lastnight—but kept her hand still at her side. Her fingers did clench and skitter over the cloththere. “Ye…Ye truly do ken it can be so, daenae ye?”

“I’d never had spoken if I dinnae believe it,” Lady Ruthven said, “I believe ye have all yeneed within ye, Miss Crushom.”

Doubts began to slither into her mind, but Freya pushed them away. I may have all Ineed, but will they be enough?

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ack at the castle in the afternoon, Evan nodded his farewells to the Laird, andwent to clean up and don a clean tunic to eat. Passing the Great Hall, he spottedthat Elspeth was at the table, speaking to her mother, but Freya was absent.

Before he could wonder where she was, she and his mother came in with pleased smileson their faces.

While washing and donning a new tunic, Evan reflected on how well the day had gone.Laird Lobhdain had gone with him to the mines, the fisheries, and the farm fields. Theadvice the older man had given him was still in his mind, and he intended to act on them.

Fixing a cuff on his tunic, he approached the dais, “Happy ye are all here. Miss Millesonand Miss Crushom, would ye do me the honor of riding out with me this afternoon? To theseaside.”

Elspeth’s face brightened, happier than he had ever seen her. “I’d be delighted, Maither?”

She laughed and patted her daughter on the shoulder, “Finish yer meal, Elspeth, the seaisnae going anywhere.”

Slumping back into her seat, Elspeth went back to her food, while Freya joined her. Evancocked his head, as his eyes ran over her—she had a different air around her; she lookedmore confident. His eyes then shot to his mother, wondering what his mother had said toFreya to make her act so differently. She met his gaze, and her smile gave nothing away;instead, she lifted her goblet. Shaking his head, Evan lifted his as well.

The meal passed, and the moment she rested her knife down, Elspeth was off to herroom. Freya, who had picked at her meal, was soon after. He vowed to ask her what waspreoccupying her mind, but knew that he had to be a part of it. Last night was notforgotten for him, either.

He helped Miss Milleson and Freya into the carriage, and, mounting his horse, he noddedto his guards, and they were off to see the seaside. The ride, less than half-an-hour fromhis home, was done smoothly, and they arrived with time to spare, but Elspeth hadbegged for them to stay so she could see the sunset—and so they had. Both ladies hadentered the carriage happy, but exiting it, had Freya deeply subdued.

Standing just a few feet away from the water’s edge, Elspeth and Freya gazed out intoMoray Firth. Evan stood apart from them, as he had seen this sight almost all his life. Thesea wind was chilly but carried the brisk smell of the sea.

Elspeth did not seem to notice as she was nearly hopping on her feet to get to thewater’s edge. It hurt him deeply that Freya was distressed and vowed to find out whywhen they had a moment to themselves. While Elspeth was gazing out into the horizon,Freya folded her skirts, crouched, and sifted through the sand for shells. His heartwarmed when he saw the pin through the bun at the nape of her neck.

She must have found what she was looking for, because she stood, just as the sun wasdipping down the horizon. There was still light around them, and Elspeth turned to himwith a pleased sigh.

She then laced her arm through Evan’s, who hurried to oblige her, “Promise me that whenwe’re married, ye’ll take me here every once in a while, when we arenae bothered withclan’s business and whatnot. And before our bairns are born,” she wrinkled her nosedelicately. “And mayhap when they are cryin’ and makin’ a fuss. We’ll just leave themwith their nursemaids, aye.”

His eyebrow ticked up, “Aye.”

She waved dismissively, “‘Tis just as I was telling Freya, how wonderful our lives will bewhen we’re married, how we’ll travel, see the wonders of the world, how we’ll have thebest of all things, food, clothes, and the people around us, but most of all, we’ll behappy.”

Evan bit back a grimace—no wonder Freya was despondent. To have all that thrown inher face from a woman with little empathy had to sting. He helped Elspeth back into thecarriage and then Freya. Her hand was cold from the water, but he gave it an extra tightsqueeze to reassure her. Her lips ticked at the corner, and again, he held in his words forwhen they were alone.

Oh, Freya, Dear Heart, I wish I could soothe yer pain.

Closing the door behind her, he mounted the pacing steed swiftly, and they were off. Onthe way back, he tossed ideas around on how to get her to open up to him, but nothingstuck. He arrived home still deep in thought, when his eye caught the Celtic symbol ofprotection carved into his gates, and an idea crept into his mind.

When the carriage stopped at the front courtyard, he helped both out but held backFreya, and when Elspeth was on her way in, said, “Meet me at the stables when ye kenyer sister is asleep.”

She shot him a curious look, but nodded. As she went off, he looked back at the symboland smiled. Hoping that she would like where he’d take her to, he went off to prepare.The hours between sunset, and when Freya did meet him in the stables were torture tohim, but when she came in, covered in a thick coat, he breathed out in relief.

When he reached for her—she shied away, and that cut him deep. “I am nae sure why yecalled me here.”

“Because I want to show you somethin’ real, somethin’ that I ken ye’d find interestin’,”Evan replied. “Let me show ye, please.”

Her lips folded briefly before she nodded, and he lifted her onto the saddled horse.Raising himself behind her, he urged the horse out and into a path he had traveled a fewtimes, a path that led them to tall Pict effigy in a hallowed Glenin Forres, just a fewminutes from his home.

Moonlight was generous enough to guide them over the road and through the forest, andright into the glen. Evan both saw and felt when Freya saw what he had carried her therefor. The obelisk was three times his six-foot height, and when he slipped her off thehorse, she gravitated to it like iron to a lodestone.

She rested her hand on the carved surface, tracing her fingers over the carvings of men atwar. Evan went behind her, resting his hand near hers. “They say it was erected in honorof King Dub mac Maíl Coluim. The brother of Kenneth the Second.”

“It's amazing,” Freya whispered. “I’ve never seen somethin’ like this before.”

Covering her hand with his, Evan added, “I’ve been told that mages come to his place onevery Lammas, Samhain, Imbolc, and Beltane to celebrate those festivals. I’ve neverpersonally seen them, but passersby have reported seeing straw dolls and the coldremains of bonfires.”

“Druids cast spells, aye,” Freya whispered while she traced a figure carrying a club. “Whatkinds of spells did ye ken they would cast here?”

“Spells for peace,” Evan supposed, “to protect us from harm, for a good harvest, a fruitfulsummer…love?”

Turning in his arms, Freya titled her head up, “Love?”

He shrugged, “Why nae?” he placed his knuckles under her chin and admired how the softsilver light played over her face, “The moonlight becomes ye.”

One wide-eyed look from those large jade eyes, and a softly hitched breath, Evan waslost. Framing her face with both hands, the kiss they shared was tender. Freya’s fingersslipped from the front of his tunic, to splay across the broad span of his back. She waspressed on his chest so tightly; he could feel her heartbeat.

Evan firmed his grip and kissed her hard, his tongue coaxing past her lips and glided overhers, pleased that she twined his tongue with his. He tasted something sweet, like thefilling of cherry pie, but under it was her natural sweet taste. Evan loved how she openedto his gentle invasion and clung to his body for stability. His teeth nipped and tugged ather lower lip and eked a small moan from her.

“Mine,” he groaned against her mouth. To give in to the hot desire racing through hisblood was wrong, yet she offered no resistance when his arms enveloped her, and hepulled her flush on him.

“Yers?” Freya asked, breathless, “How can I be yers when ye are engaged to me sister? Icannae be yers, and I will never be. I feel as if I am betrayin’ her. She will hate me forthe rest of me life, and this will put discord in the family I now have.”

She made to pull away, but Evan stopped her, “I willnae marry Elspeth.”

Freya spun, and her eyes were aflame, “Daenae ye promise me somethin’ ye cannot give.It’s too much for me, to have this hope, this yearning…” she grabbed at her chest, “thatsomeday I’ll be as fortunate as me sister, when I ken it will never come.”

He grabbed her shaking shoulders, “Listen to me. I will make it right.”

“Will ye?” Freya asked, doubtfully. “Yer Maither told me this morn’ to nay ken of meself asless than Elspeth, and I fully intend to act on it, but even so, I may never be yers.”

“Ye let me worry about that,” Evan said, pushing her head into the crook of his neck, andstroking from her shoulder blades to the middle of her back. “I gave ye me word, and I

will make it so. I’m happy Maither told ye that ye daenae need to see yerself as lowerthan others, ye just need to be who ye are. A lovely woman with the heart of a saint, andone whom I’m beginning to love.”

Freya jerked, but she did not have much space to shift away, as his arms caged her close,“Daenae be scared, Freya, I ken the word ‘love’ carries a weight with it, but I am naeafraid to carry it.”

When he let her an arm length from him, her eyes were bright with unshed tears, “Ibelieve ye.”

Dropping a kiss on her forehead, Evan held her back on his chest, “Do ye doubt the druidshave cast love spells here?”

Her body shook with a soft laugh, “What have I done to make ye love me?”

Nosing at her hair, Evan smiled, “That’s the beauty of love, m'eudail, ye dinnae have todo anythin’ to make me love ye. Love is a force on its own.”

He bent his head and kissed her temple, “I’ll nay let you go,” he whispered vehemently.

Wetness trickled down the side of his neck and, sorrowful, Evan bowed his head to kissaway the tears that trickled down her face. She sighed, and wrapped her arms tightlyabout him.

“Be strong for me, Freya. I’ll see us through this,” he pleaded.

“Ye have all me trust, but please daenae break it,” Freya responded.

Sliding his hand around the back of her neck, “I willnae.”

I’ll have to break this engagement, but I worry it will make things worse for her. How willI do this without it hurting her in the long run?

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n incensed scream had Freya bolting out of bed and grabbing at her dressingrobe, she ran out of the room, just as Lady Grace and Laird Aidan were rushingout of theirs. Elspeth’s room door was open, and inside was pure mayhem.

A maid was cowering on the far wall, and Elspeth was in the motion of flinging a vase ather, while screaming, “Thief!”

The vase shattered on the wall with an ear-splintering crash, flinging shards all aroundthe room, adding to the broken remains of another jar on the ground. Horrified, Freyastepped away when Lady Grace and Laird Aidan hurried into the room, the older woman,to her daughter, and the Laird to the poor woman cowering for her life.

“Elspeth!” Lady Grace cried. “What is happenin’?”

Aiming a shaking finger at her maid, Elspeth said, “She is a thief, Maither. I woke up tofind my pearl earrings gone, and she was in my room!”

The poor woman was shaking in Laird Aidan’s hold, “I dinnae take yer things, Miss, Iswear.”

“And ye ken I’d believe that?” Elspeth hissed. “Why should I take yer word for it? Ye’renothin’ but a penniless, simpleton, foul little wretch, with nae prospects and nothin’ to yername so ye can only rely on thievery. Yer word has nay merit here, because ye are all

liars, and when I’m yer lady, I will have ye all removed! Ye hear me! All of ye will begone! I will nae have ye disrespect me in me house, and daenae ye look at me as if weare equals. Yer eyes should be on the floor!”

Lady Grace’s face went bloodless, and Freya, wondering what was making her so afraid,turned and felt her knees buckle under her—Evan was standing at the doorway.

When Elspeth realized it as well, she blanched. “Laird Ruthven.”

Evan turned to the maid, “Grizel, did ye have any dealings with Miss Milleson’sbelongings?”

Grizel shook her head, her face pale and her eyes wide, “Nay, Me Laird. I dinnae.”

Nodding to her, Evan said, “She says she dinnae take it, Miss Milleson.”

“And ye believe her?” Elspeth gasped. “How could ye be so foolish to believe the words ofa servant?” Her disgusted tone, when saying the word servant, was like a slap acrossFreya’s face. If she felt so horrified, Freya could only dare suppose what Evan was feeling.

Evan’s expression was blank, and as he was about to speak, Lady Grace, in a distraughttone, interrupted, “She dinnae take them, Elspeth… I did.”

Freya felt faint, and had to suck in a sharp breath. She held it in as her eyes flickedbetween Elspeth, Lady Grace, and Evan. Elspeth was staring at her mother, lips open andaghast.

“What?” Elspeth demanded.

“I took them last eve,” Lady Grace said regretfully. “But I forgot to put the set of emerald

gems in replacement. I kent they would be a nice surprise for ye, but I also forgot to tellye. Miss Grizel did naythin’ wrong, Elspeth. The fault rests with me.”

Unable to take much more, Freya sagged on the wall and pressed her hand to herpounding chest. Elspeth had just shown her colors to all who would see them. LairdAidan’s face was set in rigor, and Lady Grace’s was sallow.

Tugging away from her mother, Elspeth sunk to her bed, crossed her arms and pouted,“Well, ye should have told me.”

She willnae apologize, will she?

A stifled pause heralded a suffocating silence, and as Freya had suspected, Elspeth didnot utter one word of apology. Instead, she just stared petulantly out the window withher arms crossed over her chest.

Evan turned to Laird Aidan and asked, “Laird Lobhdain, may I speak with ye in me officefor a moment, and Grizel, ye may go to yer room and rest.”

With a hurried bob of her head, Grizel hurried out of the room while Elspeth kept sulking.Laird Lobhdain’s face had not moved from the flinty set it had taken on, but he noddedcurtly to Evan and walked out. Unsure of what to do, Freya lingered at the doorway.

“Elspeth,” Lady Grace said, “what ye just did was unacceptable, unprincipled, and veryreckless. Ye’ve just destroyed the Laird’s property and insulted him by accusin’ his peopleof thievery.”

Narrowing her eyes, Elspeth said, “What other conclusions should I have come to? Theearrings were there, and then, they were gone. I have never trusted servants, and they’reall filthy liars.”

“Do ye realize ye might have endangered yer engagement?” Lady Grace looked at herwith distress coloring her every word. “Elspeth, ye cannae be threatenin’ people that havedone naythin’ to ye. Ye should have come to me instead of raising a ruckus.”

Sniffing, Elspeth said, “I want to go home. Laird Ruthven will still marry me because I amthe best he will ever get.”

Sickened with her sister’s conceit, Freya nearly retreated to her room, when a strangelook crossed Lady Grace’s face—it was an intense mix of regret, pain, anddisappointment. She was looking at her daughter as if Elspeth was a strange creature,one she did not recognize.

Lady Grace’s lips flattened in resolve, but Freya did not know what that resolution was.“Stay here, Elspeth, I’m going to join yer Faither and speak to the Laird. Hopefully, thereis some way we can get ye out of this mess.”

Shrinking away, Freya went to her room and closed the door behind her. She retreated tothe chair placed at the window, folded her arms on the sill, and buried her head in thespace they created.

Will this end well?

Evan could feel Laird Lobhdain’s dismay while faced away from him. They entered hismeeting room with another man behind him. He turned while the door was half closed,and on the other side of his desk, he braced his arms on the cold wood.

“We need to speak about Miss Milleson’s behavior,” Evan said calmly. “That was rude ofher.”

“On behalf of Elspeth, I must apologize,” her father said grimly. “I have never seen heract that way.”

“I have,” Evan said, “on our first walk together, she insulted yer maid, calling her stupid,just because me Maither sent word about our stable burning down. And from thewoman’s reaction, I hardly ken it’s the first time.”

“She did what?” Laird Lobhdain exclaimed.

“Without apology or care,” Evan replied. “I suppose the maids keep silent to have theirjobs.”

Laird Lobhdain found a seat and sagged into it. His face was a contort of embarrassmentand regret, “We’ve let Elspeth a lot of room in how she was reared—and in hindsight, Irealize we should have paid closer attention.”

“That’s a sensitive way of saying it, me Dear,” Lady Lobhdain said while walking into theroom. “Frankly, Laird Ruthven, Elspeth abused our affection for her as we doted on herday and night. I dinnae expect that from her, but there is nay excuse for her words or heractions. She dinnae has the maturity to apologize for her mistake, but still clings to herpetulance.”

She continued. “I’ve ignored it for a while, but her actions threw some of her pastbehaviors into sharp light. We’ve both seen it, but we dinnae want to believe it, becauseshe was all we had. She is still sure that ye will marry her, Laird Ruthven, but I am hereto pull her out of this arrangement. She is too childish to marry and be the Lady of yerclan.”

Laird Lobhdain bowed his head, and his eyes clenched tight. When he opened them, heshook his head slowly, “Ye’re right, Love. Elspeth is unready to marry.”

His wife came to rest behind her husband, and laid her hand on his shoulder as hecontinued, “We should have kent that, after she nitpicked her way through the men whohad offered for her hand.”

“And how she demanded that all of her old things be destroyed instead of given away,”Lady Lobhdain added as her eyes took on a far-away look. “Every three months or so, wehad to send a maid away because she found the woman unfit. The woman was too ugly,crass, uneducated, and adversely, too educated with a “smart mouth,” to be near her.She had to have the last word in everythin’, and if it wasnae perfect enough to herlikenin’, she demanded that she wanted to start over again.”

Laying a hand over his wife’s, Laird Lobhdain said, “I imagine this had been a waste ofyer time, Saunderson, innit?”

“Nay necessarily,” Evan said cautiously. He leaned back and looked between the two. “Istill want to marry into yer family, so would ye be open to a compromise?”

A look passed—a knowing one, at that—between the Laird and his Lady before the olderman squared a look at him. “And that would be?”

“I suspect ye already ken what that means, as there is only one option left, but I will layme intentions out plainly. I’d like Miss Crushom’s hand in marriage. I find her to be calm,wise, and very strong, without allowin’ anyone to walk over her. I find her purelyauthentic. Miss Milleson has some great attributes. Undoubtedly, she is educated andaccomplished, and I applaud ye for making her so, but her temperament is one I daenaeken I can bear.”

“Especially after what happened this morn’,” Lady Lobhdain said wearily. “I canunderstand.”

“Elspeth isnae going to take this lightly,” her father rubbed his face, “And I’m afraid Freyaisnae ready to take such a central position.”

“I’m sure that she will have a wealth of resources to pull from,” Evan replied, “Yer wifehas been yer support all these years, aye, and me Maither was the same for me Faither;ye can both show her how it's done.”

Laird Lobhdain sat forward, and his gaze went skeptical, “Are ye sure about this?”

“Why wouldnae I be?” Evan replied calmly. “It’s the best solution, and I do truly likeFreya. I found her intriguin’ the day I saw her in the Cillock meadow, and she’s allowedme to see who she was daily. I ken she is afraid of many things, but there is naything wecannae all help her through.”

“And?” Laird Lobhdain pressed.

Smiling unpretentiously, Evan said, “And she’s gorgeous. There is naything about her I’dchange. If she wants to be a healer and care for the ailing fine, if she wants to cook hermeals and mine, I willnae stop her. Whatever she is comfortable with, she’ll do. I willnaepress her into a mold that will stifle the life out of her.”

Laird Lobhdain sat back, “Ye measure yer words carefully, Saunderson, but I can see thatye care more for Freya then ye say ye do.”

Of course, I do, I’m starting to love her, but ye dinnae need to ken that now.

“I daenae see how that can harm anything,” Evan replied. “We both ken its best for us tohave this partnership, and me marrying Freya is the best way.”

“It is,” Laird Lobhdain sighed. “All right, I’ll agree to ye marrying Freya, but she will haveto agree to it as well. With all the things that are being thrown on her, I suppose this topsthe list.”

“I’ll speak to both of them,” Lady Lobhdain offered. “It’s best that the news comes fromme. Laird Ruthven, is there a room we may use?”

After giving her directions to a room, Evan wished her the best as she made to leave theroom.

“Send for me, if ye need help,” her husband replied when she was at the door. “I’ll stayhere and speak with Saunderson a little more.”

Placing a kiss on her husband’s cheek, Lady Lobhdain left the room. Evan’s eyes tracedafter her before going back to the Laird. When the door closed, he tapped his fingers onthe desk. “And what is that ye need to speak about?”

“Ye feel more for Freya than mere admiration and respect,” Laird Lobhdain pronounced.“I can see it in yer eyes, just as I can tell there is more to this request than ye say, LairdRuthven, nay need to deny it. I only charge ye to love and protect Freya as long as yelive.”

“I swear on me life,” Evan replied, grateful that the Laird was not pushing him to revealhow, when, and why he had come to care more for Freya than her sister. “But that alsocomes with starting with honesty. Ye are right when ye suspect that I care more for Freyathan spoken, and it is because I’ve come to ken who she is. I dinnae expect to fall foranother woman while I was engaged to Elspeth, as I have given me vow, but it cameabout so gradually that it took me by surprise as well.”

Remembering his vow to be tactfully blunt, Evan did not shy away from the man’sassessing gaze, “It was deeply dishonorable of me, and I admit it, and I wish I could havefollowed the path I’d set for meself, but fate must have had other plans. I never expectedit, and I apologize for the deception and leadin’ Miss Milleson on, but I had alwaysplanned on finding a wise way to break that engagement, without causing bad bloodbetween us.”

The smile on the Laird's face told Evan that the man had suspected something of thesort, “I was wonderin’ when ye’d come out with it. Listen, Saunderson, we men arenaethat subtle, if ye are old as Methuselah or a young lad. Being coy is a woman’s game, andI saw yer intentions shifting all along. I’m happy to give Freya over into yer hands.”

“Ye’re nae angry?” Evan asked.

“A little miffed,” Laird Lobhdain replied. “But I understand, Saunderson. Love doesnaecome how ye’d want it. Speaking of, ye might have to pray for me wife. She kent what Imeant when I said that Elspeth willnae take it well.”

Concern for his newest intended chilled Evan’s chest, “Do ye ken I’ve put Freya into aposition that will endanger her?”

“From whom?” Laird Lobhdain asked, his eyebrows inching up. “Elspeth? Nay, never.Elspeth might be petulant and pout about it, but she willnae make it bad for Freya.”

Appeased, Evan stood, “Mayhap we should join them?”

Laird Lobhdain stood and tugged his thick saffron shirt down over his trews. Evan was instep with him toward the room he had given Lady Lobhdain to use. Elspeth was there,her legs crossed at the ankles, sitting primly while Freya was seated across her, butslumped over. Elspeth was stone face and pallid, while hands hid Freya's face.

“I suppose ye’ve told them,” Laird Lobhdain said wryly.

“I have,” Lady Lobhdain replied. “Elspeth says she is disappointed but doesnae mind. I’mstill waitin’ for Freya’s reaction.”

Highly doubtful that Elspeth had let the engagement go that easily, he tried to read herface, but it was indecipherable. Freya was still bent over with her hands shielding herface, and her shoulders were slightly trembling. Her father reached out and laid a handon her shoulder.

“Freya, there’s naythin’ to be afraid off,” he said gently. “Please, look at us. Ye dinnaehave to hide. Laird Ruthven explained it all. Do ye ken fallin’ in love is somethin’ we’dpunish yer for?”

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lowly, she pried her hands from her face and sat up. Licking her lips quickly, Freyashook her head, “Isnae it? I did betray Elspeth.”

“Ye didnae such thing,” Lady Grace said stridently. “Freya, ye cannae dictate how lovegoes—if ye are in love, that is.”

Rubbing her forehead, Freya dropped her hand to look at her sister. Elspeth, however,was facing away, and her expression was blank as a cloudless sky. Freya dropped herhands to her lap and clenched her fingers so tightly that her nails bit into her palms.

Turning her face away from Elspeth, she met Evan’s eyes. “I ken it is, but I’ve never beenin love before.”

“Regardless,” Laird Lobhdain said calmly, “With the masks off, I can see that ye two docare for each other, so ye do have me blessing for this marriage.”

Freya was listening with half an ear to her father’s words, and though comforting, a ballof trepidation still rested in her stomach. Elspeth had not uttered a word, and it wasgrating on Freya’s heart. Like a knife slicing unto unsuspecting flesh, her sister’s stonysilence was cutting into her.

Bravely, she called out, “Elspeth?”

They watched as Elspeth turned to them, and her lips began to curl into a smile. Thoughit stopped halfway, Elspeth nodded, “I’m sorry, I just never expected this to happen. Butafter all, I understand. I’m happy for ye, Freya.”

Her lips slipped over in disbelief. She could hardly accept it as accurate, but the look onher sister's face was not wavering. Freya managed to tear her gaze away to look at hermother. The numbness that had come from Elspeth’s silence was fading away by thegrowing happiness that bled into elation.

Giving her parents a soft smile, she asked, “I’m engaged then?”

“Ye are,” Laird Aidan said, looking to Evan, who was trying to hold back his beaming grin.“And happily, I imagine.”

Wanting to reach out to Evan and take his hand and doing so were two different things.She felt it improper to show any affection, in the presence of her sister who, up until anhour ago, had been Evan’s intended. Thankfully, that decision was taken from her asEvan reached out and took her hand, gently pulling her up from her seat.

His arm wrapped around her waist, and he dropped a kiss on her forehead as he said,“Happily.”

When Freya was able to slip away from her family and her husband-to-be, she closed thedoor behind her and perched on the edge of the bed. Pressing a hand to her heart, shestill doubted that all that happened in the past hour was real, and it was not somethingshe had dreamed.

Nae me wildest fantasies would have gone that way.

It was true…she was formally engaged to Evan, and in a few weeks—days?—she would

be his wife. But that came with some worries as well. She would be the new Lady of theClan, but she had little idea what to do with that title. Moreover, she still feared thatthere was damage done to her relationship with Elspeth.

If what we have can be termed a relationship.

She knew Elspeth was not fond of her, and her new engagement would undoubtedly havemade things worse—but Elspeth’s reaction was one Freya would have never expected.She hadn’t been overjoyed, but she had expressed happiness for her.

Still too much to stomach.

After a short knock, her mother pushed her door in, with a happy smile, “Dear, LairdRuthven has just ordered a feast for yer engagement.”

Naturally, her instinct would be to smile meekly and shy away, but she remembered theconversation with Lady Lobhdain, and tilted her chin up. “Are ye sure Elspeth is nayangry?”

Lady Grace sat near her, “As far as I’ve seen.”

Privately, Freya held her reservations in. She still felt coldness coming from Elspeth, but itfelt like her usual aloofness. Based on the many times Elspeth had expressed herhappiness to be the Lady of the Ruthven Clan, Freya doubted that Elspeth had gottenover the broken engagement so quickly.

I suppose I can only trust her judgment. She kens Elspeth better than I do.

Her mother embraced her, “Ye dinnae look happy, Freya. Why?”

Shaking her head, Freya whispered, “It still doesnae feel real.”

“I remember when I was engaged to Aidan,” her mother laughed. “I hated him.”

“W…what?” Freya stuttered.

“He was me big brother’s best friend and only saw me as the runty little sister and teasedme to tears. But then, he went off to Edina for five years and came back. To me surprise,he asked for me hand. I kent of throwing cattle dung in his face. But he proved himself.”

“I feel bad,” Freya replied. “Very bad. I daenae ken I’ll ever feel less guilty that I did thisto Elspeth.”

“Nay Dear, I love me daughter, but Elspeth did this to herself,” her mother rubbed herback. “I never expected this, aye, but I’m nay unhappy. Ye will have a happy life if yedecide to love this man, and I have an inkling that ye’re halfway there.” Lady Gracekissed Freya’s temple.

“I still feel guilty for Elspeth, I never planned for this to happen,” Freya mourned, “I fearshe’ll hate me.”

“I understand,” Lady Grace said. “But Elspeth will rebound, Freya. She had nay lack ofsuitors that will come and marry her, but it will have to be a while. Do ye ken why I leftto speak to the Laird Ruthven? I was the one who pulled her out of the engagement. Iwent to tell him that Elspeth is too childish to marry; she needs to become a womanfirst.”

“Is it too late to send for me parents?” Freya asked. “I would like for them to be here.”

“I can ask,” Lady Grace replied. “But I kent Laird Ruthven would be canny enough to havesent for them already.”

Shooting a look at her wardrobe, Freya stood, “Would ye mind helping me choose a dressfor tonight?”

Lady Grace joined her, “I’d love naythin’ more.”

“The night’s feast will be followed on the morrow with a tournament of games andwrestling matches,” Evan said in her ear. “I’ll allow ye to set the time for the weddingday.”

Freya heard him but could only focus on what was before her, and that was thecelebratory feast. Evan was at her side, but they were not entering as yet. The large hallwas illuminated by great blazing torches on the walls, thick tallow candles set in bronzecandlesticks on the long trestle tables.

Magnificent tapestries that Freya had never seen graced the walls, a predominant onethat rested behind the main table, depicting a fierce battle. A warrior in Ruthven’s clan'scolors was on the back of a massive horse brandishing a sword. The stone floor had beenswept and then strewn with fresh rushes.

Freya lingered at the doorway, trying not to fidget or pluck at her pale-green dress with ascooped bodice, and long sleeves. The hall was filling in, and from where she stood, shespotted food being arranged on the high table. Simply dressed servants rushed to and fro,endlessly filling and refilling goblets from the kegs in the kitchen.

Evan’s hand reached for hers, and she held it, lacing her fingers with his. Ever exemplarydressed, Evan had another variation of his great kilt, this time the hue of the blue, adeep-royal color, and the gray light as silver, clothing his tall, lean body. Stretched tautlyacross Evan’s broad shoulders and muscular chest, the kilt fell to his knees, its endsmeeting the tops of fine leather boots.

“If this were summer, segments of the wall would have bunches of white heather, thistle,

and sage hanging from the rafters, and on the walls, to herald good luck, protection,wisdom, and good health,” Evan murmured in her ear.

Minstrels started to play, and Evan’s grip on her hand firmed, “Please, it’s our time.”

Footsteps behind her alerted Freya to her family’s arrival, Lady Grace was beaming, andher father’s chin was notched up in pride. Elspeth was in a lovely blue dress, and shelooked non-perturbed. Lady Grace had said that Elspeth was not mad, and Freya wasbeginning to believe it.

“Now that we’re all here,” Evan said, nodding to her family. “Let’s enter. Maither iscoming with a maid helpin’ her down.”

Walking in, Freya did not take a breath until Evan helped her into her chair, beside his,just as Laird Lobhdain helped his wife and Elspeth into theirs. His mother came in,dressed in a long maroon dress, and her hair braided in a coronet around her head.

Nervously, Freya reached for her goblet of mead while Lady Ruthven was settled in. Evangrasped a goblet and lifted it, “Hear, hear!”

The chatter dimmed, and as soon as he held their attention, he lifted his voice higher,“To me treasured guests, I stand before ye a newly engaged man…” a roar made Freyawince, while he turned and held out his hand for her to stand, “and me bride-to-be is thelovely Miss Freya Crushom, daughter of Laird and Lady Lobhdain.”

With the many eyes on her, Freya held her composure and stopped from shrinking away.The gleeful cheers counterbalanced the eyes running over her, but these were not sinkingunder her skin with the flaying look of judging eyes, as she had feared.

Sinking into her seat, she reached for her glass with a steady hand.

“The times are still uncertain, but we have happier ones on the horizon,” Evan called.“They are soon here!”

Bowing his head, Evan went to his seat and, resting the gold goblet on the table, reachedunder the table to grasp Freya’s hand. Leaning his head, he whispered in her ear, “Are yehappy, m'eudail ?”

“The happiest,” Freya returned as her eyes met those of her birth mother, and she sawwarmth in her gaze. “I just wish Maither and Faither could be here.”

“T’was a little late, but I sent them word,” Evan replied while pulling his hand away. “Ifthey are nae here tonight, they’ll be here on the morrow.”

Happy and relieved, Freya turned to her food and started to take part in the feast, lovingthe noise of happiness and joy around her. The minstrels strolled among the tablesstrumming their stringed instruments, often stopping here and there to play a favoredtune for a coin. Countless toasts were shouted over the din, given with hale heartiness forthe happiness of the betrothed couple

As the night went on, Laird and Lady Lobhdain made their excuse and left, with Elspeth intow. Soon, Lady Ruthven left as well, but not before kissing Freya on the cheek andwhispering, “Welcome to the family, me Dear.”

Evan took her small hand and lifted it to his lips, gently kissing the delicate fingers. “Yehave nae eaten very much tonight,” he commented kindly.

“I’ve eaten enough,” Freya said, while reaching for her goblet.

“Take a walk with me?” Evan coaxed.

“But, what of everyone else?” Freya asked, turning to face him and met his golden eyes,

warm and liquid, full of desire.

“They are all busy, Freya. And so deep in their cups, I doubt hardly one soul will noticeour absence. That night in the pagoda has only given me a taste of ye. We are soon to beman and wife. I daenae believe I can wait until our wedding night to have ye, me love.”

He slid a light fingertip from her ear to her neck, making Freya close her eyes, and herbreath quicken. “Please.”

Nodding, Freya took his hand, and he led her down the dais, and through the rowdycrowd. As Evan had predicted, not one person acknowledged them. With her hand tight inhis, Evan moved them through the hall, and up the stairs.

Freya felt her heart quicken as they went to a room at the end of the corridor, and justoutside of the door, she was taken off guard with a soft kiss.

His hand smoothed over her hair, “I’ll take care of ye, love, I promise. Tonight, I’ll onlygive ye a taste of the pleasure we will find in each other’s arms. Do ye trust me?”

“Always,” Freya replied.

Using his boot, Evan pushed open the door, and after they moved inside, he closed it withthe same foot. Pressing her on the door, Freya let his lips retake hers while his handsdipped to her legs. Grasping her thighs, Evan hoisted her up, and she wrapped her legsaround him, to feel him groan into her mouth.

His palms skated over her skin, rucking up the dress until it was a roll between them, andhe took a firm grasp of her behind. Freya let out a tiny squeak as he pried her away fromthe door and toward the bed.

Murmuring gentle, soothing words as he sat her on her feet, he took the hairpin from her

hair, allowing the curls to fall free. Reaching behind her, Evan unlaced the tight crisscrossof laces that held her dress while dropping soft kisses on her neck.

Loosened, the garment dropped to the floor and was soon joined by her thin, gauzysmock. Instinctively, Freya wrapped her arms around her breast, but Evan pulled themaway. Evan drew in his breath sharply, as her body was now revealed to him.

“God’s blood, Freya,” his voice dipped huskily while his eyes raked over her body in aheated gaze, “Ye are perfection.”

His touch skimmed over her satiny skin that gleamed pale as alabaster in the moonlightstreaming from the windows and the light from the fireplace. As his fingers ran over herpink nipples, hardened by the chilly night breeze, Freya cried out for his touch.

Snaking an arm around her waist, Evan leaned over and captured one of the rosy peakswithin his mouth, his tongue flicking at the tight bud gently. Startled by the newsensation, Freya tensed suddenly in his arms, but moaned softly. Threading his fingersthrough his hair, she leaned back, knowing he was bracing her.

His tongue traced a circle of molten fire around the raised nipple before he suckledgently. While his lips tortured one breast, his hand was caressing the other, hitting herwith double sensations. Pulling away from her breast, that now longed for his mouth, shefelt relieved when Evan’s lips trailed a burning path up her chest to her mouth, foranother kiss.

“Daenae be afraid, me love,” he murmured reassuringly, caressing the arch of her back.

Gently, and ever so slowly, he lowered her to the bed then began to undress. His clothesdid him a disservice, Freya decided as he revealed himself to her. Muscles rippled acrossthe broad span of his shoulders, and the tapered cut of his torso that led to a narrowwaist had her stomach tightening. There were the taut lines of his tapered hips, andwhen he removed his trews, his virility made her breathless. Briefly, she jerked her headaway, feeling her cheeks burn as she had never seen a man before.

Every sculpted inch of his body, burnished bronze by the firelight, spoke power andstrength. Freya found herself looking openly at him, her eyes tracing over his body. Lyingdown on the bed beside her, Evan took her hand and pressed it to his chest.

“Ye can touch me, Love,” he offered. But with her reluctance, he moved her hand for her,over his chest, sprinkled with a light dust of hair, down to his ridged stomach, and thenclosed her hands around him. “There is naything to fear.”

Daring, Freya began to stroke him, and his eyes clenched tight, before a low moan camefrom him. Evan plucked her hand away, “If ye keep doin’ that, we’ll finish before we getstarted, Love.”

Turning her on her back, Freya felt him slit himself between her legs and laid his hardbody on her. With a low groan, Evan began to caress her skin with feather-light kissesand touches. Freya shivered, her mind reeling with the delicate sensations, while Evan’slips, once again, found her breast.

She felt his rough hands move over her body, passing over her flat abdomen, stroke overthe slender curve of her hips and dipped around to cup the plumpness of her backside.Writhing under his masterful touch, Freya gave herself over to the powerful waves ofpassion that rippled through her body, tugging her deeper under the tide.

When Evan’s fingers combed through the silken mound between her thighs, she moanedin unexpected delight. Freya’s hips arched against the pressure of Evan’s hand, betrayingan instinct she did not know she had.

Her actions earned her a soft chuckle and Evan took her mouth in a crushing kiss, beforehis fingers slid down her body. She gasped when she felt the wetness there and when hisfinger slid inside the soft, moist core of her, she grabbed at his shoulder and cried out.

Sinking her nails into his skin, Freya trembled uncontrollably under his touch. Soft kisseswere dropped on her belly, but Evan moved his lips up, pressing his lips on every spot ofher shuddering flesh he could before capturing her lips in a hot, blistering kiss.

Freya pried her hand away from his back to entwine her fingers in his sable curls. Evandeepened their kiss, while stroking and teasing her tender passage. Adding his thumb onthe hidden bud of her desire, Freya jolted as a strike of lightning ran through her. She felta strange sensation building, a tight knot of tension contracting inside her middle, butsparks of pleasure doubling back through her limbs.

When the sensations met, spiraling upward and upward until it reached a pinnacle, awave of unbridled ecstasy exploded in shimmering lights behind her eyes. Evan pulledaway from her and held her on his chest as she came down from the incredible high Evanhad sent her to.

Pressing her face into his neck, she asked, “Is it always this way?”

“Nay,” he rained kisses on her temple. “Believe it or nae; it gets better.”

Freya shivered when his hand slid down the curve of her spine before it rested on herbackside. She fought to lie still in Evan’s arms, but it was not possible with his handsexploring every part of her body, caressing, teasing, and fanning the embers from beforeinto life.

His touch eked a soft moan from Freya’s throat while Evan slid his hand into her loosehair, stroking the soft hairs at the back of her head. “Open yer eyes, and look at me, moleannan.”

Obeying him, Freya met his chest, and instead of looking at him, Freya rested her handon the light smattering of hair there, before leaning in and kissing the center of hisbreastbone, “There’s more, isnae there?”

“Much more,” Evan whispered huskily, his breath warm against her ear as he turned heron her side and hooking a hand under her knee, tugged her leg over his hip.

Evan’s mouth was demanding on hers, plundering her mouth before slipping down her

neck to her shoulder blade and then, cupping the perfect mound with his hand, suckledhungrily on her breast. Engrossed in the kiss, Freya found herself shifted on her back,with Evan lying on her. He quickly shifted his weight over then gently parted her legs withhis knee.

Her lips stung a little when he brushed his against hers, “I’m going to join with ye. It willhurt, Love, but it gets better, I swear. Trust me.”

Clenching her eyes tight, Freya nodded, as she felt his shaft nudge at her entrance andbegan to fill her. Slowly he moved, allowing her to adjust with him as he went. Suddenly,Evan took her into a deep kiss and plunged himself into her.

Pain lanced its way up Freya’s body as he breached her maidenhead. Pain overrode thebliss she had felt, and even a tear leaked from her eye. Evan kissed it away.

“Breathe, love,” Evan encouraged soothingly, moving very slowly within her. “It’ll pass.”

Every thrust had the pain easing quickly, and when it left, she was overwhelmed by anew wave of pleasurable sensation. Arching her back with a soft gasp, Freya wrapped herarms around her lover’s back, sporadically skidding her hand into his wet hair. Her bodysoon fell in rhythm, matching the thrusting movements of his body perfectly.

His thrusts were gentle, surging deeper into her while his lips rarely left hers. His kisseswere as loving as his touch, and his hands never moved from her body, sliding down herthigh, cocking her leg further over his hip and increased in intensity had her breathless.

Their bodies moved in a rhythm that had the passion between them building to a surgingcrescendo within her. He tore his lips from Freya’s as his movements grew frantic, andthe scorching tension, resting in her breast, mounted higher to its peak, until sheshattered in a haze of searing, throbbing ecstasy.

He flexed his hips, retreating from her slightly before surging deeper. The rapid friction

filled her with dark, decadent pleasure and the sensations skyrocketed when Evanslammed forward, grinding her into the mattress. Freya’s mouth went slack, her mindunfocused, and her nails sunk so deep into Evan’s back that they nearly drew blood.

Tiny beads of sweat dotted Evan’s forehead, as Freya arched with a strangled scream,her inner muscles clamping down on Evan’s length. The pleasure she felt overpoweredher, decimated her, reducing her to a haze of white. A raw, tortured sound tore fromEvan’s chest, but due to the soothing numbness that came from all her internal heatsettled inside her, she hardly noticed.

When soft kisses dropped on her cheek, Freya slid her hand up to his damp, flexing back.Evan was braced on his elbows on either side of her head and was kissing her. She turnedher head to meet him in a soft, languished kiss and realized he had parted from her body.

Slipping to his side, Evan pressed her close, and his kisses were endless. “Now that I’vetasted yer passion, I want more. Daenae hide it from me anymore, m'eudail.”

Nestled in his arms, Freya savored the firmness of his body against hers, the warmth ofhis skin, and the possessive hold he had on her body. Most of all, she loved how he wouldgaze down on her with such reverence and care.

Pressed on top of his heart, she allowed the steadying beat to lull her to sleep but wasreluctant to drop off without saying something, “Will there be more nights like this?”

He chuckled in her ear, and the warmth of the sound had her smiling, “Many, many more,Freya. I promise.”

Tilting her face up, she met his gentle kiss and whispered, “Sleep well, me Love.”

D

2 1

awn had not come, but Evan was wide awake, gazing on a sleeping Freya. Thefirelight was low, but it was enough for him to admire the lady he had made loveto. He refrained from reaching out and touching her, not wanting to disturb her

sleep.

She looks so peaceful in her sleep. Her constant anxiety and worry daenae carry with herin her rest.

Last night had secured all that he had felt for Freya in one solid lump in his chest. He wasnot beginning to love her—he had fallen headfirst in love with her. Her long auburn hairlay in disarray on the pillow, as he admired how peaceful her delicate features were inher rest. His gaze went back to the fan of her lashes resting on her cheeks, and breakinghis vow; he used the tip of his finger to brush across them gently.

She shifted but did not wake, and Evan was grateful; what did wake her were the knockson his door. Irritated, he pulled away while Freya wrapped the sheet around her chest,with her cheeks pinking. He did not answer the door immediately, but leaned over to kissher.

“Good mornin’, Love,” Evan said, notching his fingers under her chin. “Do me a favor andnay worry yerself too much.”

With her nod, Evan slipped out of bed and donned a dressing gown and wrapped itaround his body. Tugging the door in enough to shield his wife-to-be from the onlooker,

“Aye?”

“Me Laird,” the servant woman dipped her head, “Good mornin’. Mister and MissusCrushom have arrived and would like to speak with ye when ye are free.”

“Thank ye,” Evan nodded. “Show them to the Great Hall and have them eat something ifthey want. We’ll be down presently.”

Retreating to the bed, Evan perched on the edge and reached for Freya, who was sittingup. Her eyes were going around the room while his were on hers. Memories of theprevious night came flooding back to him, how she had rendered him breathless, seeingher under the moonlight. How every gasp of her breath or soft cry in his ear had robbedhim of pieces of his control.

Reaching out, Evan took her hand and pulled her closer. Freya kept her hand on thesheets, covering herself, but he felt pride in seeing the row of kiss marks on her skin.

Proof that she is mine, and will forever be mine.

“Yer parents are here, love,” Evan said, playing with a thick lock of her hair, “Would yelike me to call for a bath for ye?”

“Would ye bathe with me?” Freya asked.

Leaning in to kiss her, Evan said, “Aye, I will. Ye’re nay regretful for what we did lastnight, are ye?”

It took her a moment to reply, but Freya shook her head, “Nay. I…I daenae regret it. Weare to be married soon, and we do love each other. What wouldnae be good other thanexpressing it? We had come close, but it wasnae the right time. I’m happy we waited.”

“Aye,” Evan agreed, as that night in the pagoda flashed before his eyes. “I’m glad as well.Let me send for our water.”

With another kiss, Evan went to order their water, and returned to find Freya at thewindow. The bedsheet was wrapped around her and tapered away in a train. Her hairwas a mess of curls down her back. With the early sunlight transforming her hair and skininto a halo, she looked divine.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he propped his chin on her shoulder. She waslooking out a vast stretch of his kingdom, from the few mountains to the plains that led tothe sea and the houses between.

“Anythin’ catches yer eye?”

She twisted in his hold, but shook her head. Her eyes were wide and luminous. “Nay, butI would like ye to take me around. Is there a place that is special to ye?”

“There is,” Evan replied, “It’s a grotto in the loch. Years ago, the river was in spate andcarved itself another route. The grotto was hollowed out years ago by the river, and hasbanks of the sweetest-smelling moss surrounding a pool of tranquil water. I want ye tosee it.”

Interrupted by the servants carrying in the water, Evan watched Freya’s reaction—and notonce did she shrink away. Even while clad in his sheets. When the door closed behindthem, Evan led her to the annex room where the large tub was full. Two benches werelining the walls, and the large windows allowed the white vapor from the water out of theroom.

Plucking the string of the robe, Evan removed his clothing and smiled when her eyes ranover his muscular form with appreciation. Setting it on the bench, he went to take thesheet from her.

“Shall I disrobe ye, Love?” he asked.

“Ye may,” Freya lifted her hands, and though the sheet sagged, he pulled it off, revealingher body to him. Smoothing his hands down her sides, Evan grinned and dipped to scoopher legs from under her and carried her to the tub. Laying her inside, Evan took the lampand added a generous amount of lavender oil into the water.

He stepped over the rim, then slid into the steaming water with her, and immediatelypulled her to rest on him. His hands curved over her breasts, reacting to her raisednipples tantalizingly taut against his palms. But there was no time for intimacy. Instead,he reached for the small cake of olive-oil soap and a washcloth.

Freya’s hands braced on his thighs, and her back arched, indicating what she wanted, butEvan stopped her with a nibble to her ear, “When we bathe tonight, love, but nae now,yer parents are waiting.”

Her body deflated, but nodding in acquiesce, Freya uttered, “Later on?”

“We’ll see,” Evan replied. Freya allowed him to wash her, and even with arousal coursingthrough his blood, Evan got them cleaned and out of the tub to dress. Resting on hismade bed was one of Freya’s dress, a dove-gray dress with emerald embroidery, thickwoolen hose, and a fur mantle.

Seeing it had Freya’s face burning. Lady Lobhdain must have realized that Freya wasabsent from her room and accurately guessed where she was.

Laughing, Evan pulled her hands away, “There is naythin’ to be ashamed of, Freya.”

Dressing quickly, she used his comb to set her hair to rights, and they left for the GreatHall. Upon seeing her, Missus Crushom enveloped Freya into a tight hug while her fathershot out his hand.

“Happy to see ye, Me Laird. The workmen are movin’ at a rapid pace to get those repairsdone,” Mister Crushom said, then looked over to Freya, “And for makin’ Freya happierthan I’ve ever seen her.”

Her mother still had not released Freya from her hold, but when she did, tears were inher eyes. Glancing at the dais, Evan realized two more seats were added to the standardfive. Gesturing for Freya to lead her parents up to the dais, he claimed his intended themoment they were on the podium.

The Milleson’s and his mother came to join them, and Evan noticed the blank,unconcerned look on Elspeth’s face. The two families greeted each other and sat down forthe meal. Not once did Elspeth look at her sister, or speak much, but she stayed for themeal. Evan was concerned at her blasé attitude; it was as if he was staring at a blankwall.

“We should use the upper room to talk,” his mother’s words dragged him back to thepresent, and just as he was about to agree, his scout Conall Finingal entered the room.

“Excuse me,” he said, dropping a kiss on Freya’s cheek. “I’ll join ye as soon as I can.”

With a nod to the others, Evan hurried off and wordlessly, the scout followed him to themeeting room. Fear that the troops were coming back nearly cramped Evan’s gut, but heheld onto a thread of hope.

Inside, he gestured to the seat, “Finingal, me good man, what news do ye have for me?”

“Good news, me, Laird,” Conall smiled. “Well, for us at any rate. The army has takenCarlisle and is movin’ further into England without pause.”

Relieved, Evan nodded, “That’s good news for sure. Do ye ken if they have any plans tocome back to Scotland for now?”

“From what I’ve heard, it doesnae look so, me Laird,” Conall mused.

Rubbing his face, Evan dared give the order, “If ye get word that they are coming backfrom England between now and the first of December, then stay yer ground and sendword for us to arm ourselves, but if nay and the first of the months come, ye and yer menare free to go home and celebrate Yuletide with yer families. ‘Tis the least I can do foryer service, Finingal.”

Joy had Connal’s face creased into a tight smile, “Aye, Me Laird.”

Sending the man off with that order was better than if Evan had given him a pot of goldto carry home. Rejoining his mother and guests in the room they had suggested, Evantook a seat near Freya and clasped her hand. Her look had a question, Is everything allright?

“All’s well,” Evan confirmed, then faced the rest, “Now, where are we?”

Slipping out of the castle in the cool of the evening, Evan sighed in relief, “I dinnae kenyer Maither took it well when she learned it was up to ye to set the wedding date.”

“I ken Faither took it worse when he learned that I had spent the night with ye,” Freyagiggled. “Lady Grace dinnae exactly keep it to herself. Kept talking about how wonderfulthe dinner and announcement was and how we disappeared right after. She needn’t havegone into details, but Faither kent what happened. He looked as if he was going to losethe contents of his stomach.”

Tugging Freya close, Evan huffed, as they made it to the stable, “He might have beenthinkin’ I’d gotten yer with child already.”

“Is that why ye took him to the side and spoke to him alone?” Freya asked as she cameupon the already saddled horse and rubbed his ears.

“Aye,” Evan scowled, as he grasped her waist and helped her into the saddle, “And bestbelieve, that is nay a conversation I will like to have again.”

Joining her on the saddle, Evan steered them out of the stable and into the grounds,before taking another gate, and they were out into the cooling day.

“Mind telling me where we’re going?” Freya asked as they canted away. “Or, do I have toscream for help?”

“Deanae tempt me,” Evan grinned mischievously.

She shivered, and he dropped a kiss on the corner of her jaw, just under her ear, “Enjoythe ride, Love.”

Entering the woods where the smell of the water was thick in the air, he guided them tothe grotto he had told Freya about and smiled as her lips slipped open. He knew whatshe was looking at, a ring of crystal-clear tranquil water, glistening under the mystic raysof twilight, and the mossy banks surrounding it. But when her eyes dropped on themounds of blankets surrounded by thick unlit tallow candles, she grabbed at him.

“I take it ye approve,” Evan broke the ethereal quietness.

“Ye did this, for me…” she looked over her shoulder, “for us?”

“Nay one else,” Evan said, slipping off the horse and grasping her waist, he helped her offbut instead of setting her on the ground, held her high and spun her in the air.

Her burst of laugher had him grinning as well before sliding her down his body to theground. Lacing her arms around his neck, Freya kissed him, and he met her gentle lipswith his hand sliding up her back. “Come.”

Leading her to pile of blankets, he helped her to lay, and when she looked up, throughthe break of tree limbs to the darkening sky, he reached out for her hand. “I brought yehere because I would like us to talk.”

“About?” Freya asked.

“Everythin’,” Evan said, “Anythin’, whatever comes to yer mind. Tell me yer childhood,what ye want, what ye love, and what ye fear.”

Lacing her fingers with his, Freya requested, “Ye’ll have to start.”

Needing to hold her, Evan reached over and cradled Freya in his arms. Evan told herabout his earliest memories of his father, spoke to her about the love between his fatherand mother. How they communicated without even looking at the other, or how his fatherwould suddenly just take his mother into a dance around their room without any music.

“I love yer voice, so deep and rich,” she murmured, “I can hear how ye love and miss yerFaither.”

He fought back the hollow feeling carved into his heart at the memory of his sire. “Hewould have loved ye,” Evan said, “I ken he would.”

Thinking forward from the day his father passed, Evan told her about his childhood, underthe tutelage of his masters, how he had nearly broken his leg riding a horse that wasthree times larger than his eleven-year-old self, and how he had worried himself intosleepless nights when it had come to the point of him taking up the mantle his father hadleft behind.

The sky was dimming, and the faintest pinpricks of the stars were coming out. Freyagrasped his hand, “Me life is hardly as colorful as that. I do ken that as long as I couldremember, I kept wondering about me parents. Me worst fear was that I’d never findthem, or ken where I’d come from.”

“And now that ye have?” Evan asked, while pulling away to light the candles with strikeflints.

“I still…” she sighed, “feel that I have a long way to go. I ken Elspeth is still nay fond ofme, mayhap even worse now that yer marryin’ me than her. She was so invested inmaking ye her husband.”

“From what I’ve seen, she could care less,” Evan shrugged. “Stop worryin’ about her,Love.” Grasping her hand, Evan tugged her closer and turned her to rest halfway on him.

Smoothing her hair away, he pulled her down for a kiss, parting her lips with his tongue,he deepened his intimate embrace, and gently probed her mouth with his tongue.Keeping the soft loving pace, he held her so she could brace her hands on his chest andgrinned into it when he felt her trembling. Shifting her to lay on his body, Evan held herthere while she steadied herself on her elbows on either side of his head.

With her hair now curtaining them from the world, Freya asked, “Can we marry in mevillage’s kirk? I ken I’d be more comfortable there, and the people there would love ye.”

“I dinnae mind,” Evan said. “Do ye have a date in mind?”

“Spring,” Freya laid her head on his chest, “when the flowers are in bloom. I want waterlilies in me hair.”

Kissing the top of her head, he asked, “Is that all ye want?”

“With ye and this life, it’s more than I ever hoped for,” Freya whispered as she gazedback at the sky.

Evan’s heart ached for her. Massaging the back of her neck, he said, “Ye deserve much

more. Freya, as long as ye live, I’ll give ye the world ye ask for.”

She moved up his chest, “We’ll grow old together?”

“God forbid anything unexpected happens, aye,” Evan pulled her in for a kiss. “We’ll growold together.”

T

2 2

entatively, Freya knocked on Elspeth’s door. Though Lady Grace and Evan hadassured her that Elspeth was not angry with her, guilt was still heavy on Freya’sheart. She felt ashamed that things had taken such an unexpected turn, and for

days, she had dithered on how to approach Elspeth.

She finally plucked up the courage to speak to her and rapped her knuckles on the door.Shifting on her feet, Freya waited for her sister to come to the door so they could take awalk, and she could apologize.

But what do I have to apologize for? It’s nay as if I went in and stole him from her—but—did I?

When Elspeth came to the door, she looked a bit tired—sleepless. Her dress, a pale blue,was still immaculate, though. Her eyes did not display any emotion, except for a flicker ofrecognition.

“Freya?”

“May we take a walk?” Freya asked. “‘Tis a lovely day outside, er, the snow came down,but I daenae ken it's too thick or too cold for us to walk through, and I want to speak withye.”

“I suppose,” Elspeth’s smile was slight. “Just let me get me fur coat.”

They did not speak until they left the castle and began meandering through the largeinner courtyard. Freya spotted the pagoda where she and Evan had shared their first kissbut steered her eyes away.

A line of trees, their tops dusted with white snow, offered enough cover for them to walkunder. Freya sucked in a nervous breath, “I want to apologize. I ken seeing Evan—LairdRuthven—and me, isnae easy for ye. I never kent this would happen, that I’d—for lack ofbetter word—steal him from ye. I never planned it; I swear.”

Elspeth was quiet, and stared out into the extensive lands before she asked, “Do ye lovehim?”

Taken aback by her question, Freya did not reply instantly, but Elspeth pressed on, “Letme ask an easier question; what do ye ken ye do if he just vanished on the morrow?”

A rip of pain sliced through Freya as the suggestion. “I—I’d be inconsolable.”

“Have ye told him of yer feelings?”

“In as many words,” Freya replied. “I struggled for a long time because I couldnae…I feltI was betraying ye. I felt guilty.”

Elspeth sighed. “Ye have naything to be guilty about. Ye dinnae betray me, I betrayedme. I’ve realized that I went about this the wrong way, and I wasnae fair to ye.”

“So, tell me,” Elspeth said while brushing her hand over a scanty-leafed bush. “What doeslove feel like?”

Heart pounding, Freya began to wonder if she should admit her deepest secrets. “Like a

river sweeping ye away and out into the sea. It’s somethin’ ye cannae control, excitin’and fearful at the same time. At first, I swore to meself that I would fight against this…love, but every time I was with him, every time Evan held me…his kiss is like fire. I lovehim more than I kent I could ever love anyone.”

Elspeth stared wide-eyed at Freya before she turned her head away. Then quietly, shesaid, “One day, I too would like to ken such a kiss.”

Still uneasy, Freya turned to her sister and took her hands. Her voice shook with emotion.Tears burned behind her eyes as the torment of her guilt overwhelmed her, nearly tippingover with Elspeth’s last words. “I beg yer forgiveness.”

Grasping her hands, Elspeth smiled, “Please, Freya, ‘tis over, ye dinnae betray me. Ye’vebeen so strong, and suffered so many bad turns in life. I ken its time God repaid ye for allthose miseries, and if Laird Ruthven is what he chose to repay ye with then, who am I todisagree with him?”

Freya looked away for a moment, overwhelmed by the unexpected compassion reflectedin the depths of Elspeth’s eyes. She had never seen her sister like this before, yet shesaw flickers of fragility in her sister’s gaze.

“I’m sure He has someone for ye too,” Freya replied kindly. “T’wouldnae be fair.”

“We’ll see,” Elspeth replied while pulling away. “Have ye kent of what to do for yerwedding?”

Ducking her head, Freya admitted, “Evan agreed to have it done at the Cillock village’skirk. I ken its naything as fancy as ye would have had yers, but it’s somewhere familiar tome.”

Elspeth’s nose wrinkled in distaste, but she shrugged, “And when did he decide that?”

A memory of Evan’s lips nipping on her ear had Freya’s cheeks burning, “Last night, hetook me to a grotto with the clearest water and sweetest-smelling moss. I asked him todo something that would be familiar for me and have the wedding in the village, in thespringtime.”

“The sweetest flowers will be bloomin’,” Elspeth said. “I can see that. Better than thewhite barrenness, this land will become in the next comin’ days.”

Following her sister’s line of sight, Freya looked over the land, once dark with dirt, nowcovered with light fluff of the snow. A childhood memory came back to her, and shegiggled.

“When I was six, a thick storm came in and left the whole village covered in white. I wentto play with the other children and came back home, drenched with wet snow. I had to sitYuletide out with the worst cold I had ever had.”

Elspeth blanched, “Ye played in snow?”

“Ye havenae?” Freya replied, appalled.

They shared a look before laughing, Freya’s a high merry laugh while Elspeth’s was asubdued chuckle. Taking another turn around the courtyard, Freya chatted with her sister,but the conversation always circled back to the marriage day.

“Ye wanted what flowers again?” Elspeth asked as they made it back to the castle, “Inyer hair?”

“White lilies,” Freya replied, “the ones that grow on the water.”

“Oh, I kent ye said roses,” Elspeth shrugged while brushing snow from the tails of herdress. “I’m sure ye’ll be bonnie in them, still.”

Noting the rosy flush of color in her sister’s cheeks and happy that she and Elspeth hadenjoyed the last couple hours, Freya asked, “Would ye join me for a meal?”

Shaking her head, Elspeth said, “I ken ‘tis time I rested. I’ll send for me meals from thekitchens, and I ken ye should too. T’would be a welcome sight for Laird Ruthven to see yerefreshed later on, aye.”

Elspeth was right, but Freya wasnae going to sit around and do nothing. She had alreadyread through the books Evan had left for her. She went to her room but found herself inthe healing hall soon after. The smell of healing herbs and fresh air streaming in from thelarge windows and porthole styles window, was comforting to her.

She met with the head healer and spotted the new casks of balm she and her fellowhealers had made. Taking an urn, Lady Ruthven flashed through her mind, and sherealized she had not seen the lady at all that day.

“Have ye seen Lady Ruthven today?” She asked.

“Curiously, I havenae,” Missus Delilah replied.

Worried, Freya dropped the urn, “Excuse me.”

Hurrying away, Freya took the stairwell to the private rooms and skipping the ones thatshe knew; she went to the only one she had not been in. It had to be Lady Ruthven’s.Knocking quickly, she heard the lady’s voice telling her to come in.

When she did, Freya found the lady laying on her bed with the drapes closed. “LadyRuthven, are ye well?”

“Miss Crushom,” the Lady lifted her hand. “Aye, lass, I am well, just decided to take a restfrom the castle today. Take a seat, Dear, and let me tell ye why.”

Obeying, Freya took a seat and placed it at the woman’s bedside and took her hand.Patting her hand, Lady Ruthven said, “After me husband died, I took up the post ofrunning the Lairdship, as Evan was still too young to take it up. He was a laddie, nigh sixyears old. I stayed there until he was schooled enough to take it on, but I still hung ontoit because I kent it was me duty to me husband.”

“T’was only when this war, or the threat of it, came about, that Evan convinced me tostep down from an active role in managing the clan, and I felt me age catching up withme. Me knees hurt from overactivity, and I had little sleep for worryin’ about our peopleand other things. I would have these headaches and eye aches from the sleeplessness.These past few weeks were the best ones I have spent in two-score years. Now, that meSon is about to marry, I am taking this time to rest. I want to see me grandbairn up to hisor her twentieth year.”

Again, Freya reddened. Not once had Evan mentioned children, but she and Elspeth had.Her attempt to look unaffected was seen through by the Lady who laughed and pattedher hand. “Nay pressure on ye Dear.”

Decidedly uncomfortable, Freya conceded, “I understand, but now that I’m here, is thereanythin’ ye would want me to do for ye?”

“Only one thing, Dear, if ye dinnae mind…”

Evan walked in to see Freya massaging his mother’s leg and chatting with her. WhenFreya saw him, she jerked so hard she toppled the urn of salve unto the floor. Scramblingto retrieve it, Freya ducked under her chair and bumped her head while coming back up.

“Owww,” she groaned, massaging her head with one hand.

The urn was plucked from her hand, and Evan grasped her elbow to lift her. Hisamusement was palpable, “If ye can topple over from a stable chair, mayhap I shouldnaeallow ye those riding lessons.”

Freya struck his chest, “Ye’re so mean.”

Tucking her hair from her face, Evan bent his head and kissed her, tenderly at first, butthen it grew more possessive and crushed her to him in a passionate embrace. Mortified,Freya pulled away from him and hid her face in his neck. How could he kiss her like thatin front of his mother!

“Evan!” she hissed.

“Oh, daenae ye fret Dear,” Lady Ruthven laughed from the bed, “I’ve been on this landfor years, and I’ve seen worse.”

Evan’s eyes did not move from hers, and his gaze was loaded with adoration, “May Iborrow me love from ye, Maither?”

“Be free,” Lady Ruthven said, “and thank ye Dear for coming to check on me, andmassagin’ me legs.”

“I daenae mind, Lady Ruthven,” Freya barely managed before she was whisked awayfrom the room and down the corridor into Evan’s.

Another kiss, more potent than the one before, had her head spinning. Evan grasped herand lifted her and carried her to a chair near a window and sat. Quickly, Freya shifted herlegs to a kneeling position. Evan still had not lost that admiration. Cupping her cheek,Evan stroked her cheek, and she leaned into it like a cat preening under the sun.

“What made ye go to me Maither today?”

“I realized that I had nae seen her at all today and grew concerned,” Freya admitted. “Iwas afraid she was ill.”

“Nay one has kent of doing such, but me,” Evan’s thumb smoothed her eyebrow, his eyesshowing her his deepest respect and admiration. “Ye’re an angel, Freya.”

“Wings included?” she quipped cheekily.

His response was a tender kiss, “Now I ken I will be among the happiest of men with yeas me wife.”

“Me also,” Freya leaned into his hand, “I kent I’ve found some peace with me family, asElspeth and I talked about it this morn. I felt so guilty that she had her hopes broken, andnow that I’ve taken her place…I apologized for it.”

Evan made to speak, but she shook her head, cutting him off. “I ken what ye are going tosay, that I daenae owe her anythin’. But if I were in her place and saw our happinessparaded before me, I’d be inconsolable. She needs to ken that I never expected all ofthis. She accepted me apology and even gave me her best wishes.”

“Hm,” Evan’s expression was contradictory. He looked both doubtful and appreciativeover the same time, “There are times I have seen some wisdom and insight coming fromher, so I am nae surprised. I do wonder why she came to this enlightenment now.”

“She told me that she blamed herself for her actions and doesnae hold me responsible foranythin’. I ken she is starting to be more gracious to me,” Freya looped her arms aroundEvan’s neck. “Mayhap, we can be a family, after all.”

“Will ye stay here tonight?” Evan requested, though it felt more like a command. “I wantye with me. Say yes, Love, stay with me.”

Tensing a little, Freya debated staying with him. It wasn’t that her family did not knowabout her and Evan—Lady Grace had sent her a dress that morning after her passionatenight—but for it to be another night, she felt torn.

“Evan, I love ye, but I ken I might have to sleep in me bed tonight,” Freya rubbed hisarms. “I fear its nay a good look for me to share yer bed so frequently. ‘Tis nay that Idaenae care for ye, I care for ye more than I have anythin’ in the world, but sometimes, Iken its best for us to be apart at times.”

Plucking her hands from his chest, Evan placed one of them on his face and the otherbehind his neck. “Forgive me for being greedy, but ye are right. We will need to separateat times, but be warned, after the weddin’, I’ll have ye all to meself.”

“And rival a wildcat at the same time,” Freya teased him. “Ye growl at times, me Love.”

“All the better for it,” Evan kissed her palm. “Anyone will ken nay to cross ye as they willhave me to reckon with. But ken that on the last day here, ye will share my bed.”

“Until then,” Freya kissed his cheek. “Pray for me that I will make a deeper connectionwith Elspeth. I want there to be peace in me home.”

He nodded, but a flicker of something across his face told Freya that he was holdingsomething to himself. She did not ask about it as she pulled away, but the question keptrotating itself in her mind as she went to her room.

What is he nae telling me?

D

2 3

oubtful that Elspeth had suddenly mended her ways, Evan decided to watch her.She did engage with Freya more often, speaking with her over the table at themeals and walking with her in the massive grounds of his home. When the snow

got too thick, they stayed inside by the fireside and talked. Elspeth even followed Freyato the healing hall, once.

The few times he had her to himself, she spoke about Elspeth, and Evan was gettingconcerned. Elspeth seemed overly interested in their wedding day, giving her opinion onwhat color Freya’s wedding dress should be, her hairstyle, and her ornaments. She evengave Freya tips on how to walk down the aisle of the kirk. But in all that, Elspeth did notlose her unconcerned look, not even when they embraced before parting at night.

Now, when they were sharing a meal in his quarters, Freya was enthusiasticallychattering on how Elspeth told her to bathe in milk before the day; it would make herskin softer.

“And she said—” Evan kissed her quickly.

Surprised, she pulled away, and warm red tinted her cheeks, “Too much?”

“Aye,” Evan said while fingering a lock of her loose hair. “I’m happy that ye and yer sisterare finding common ground, but arenae ye a little bit concerned at how interested she isin yer affairs?”

Shaking her head, Freya’s lips twisted, “I daenae want to ken too deeply into it. I want tohold onto what she said, that she’s truly seen the error of her ways and wants tochange.”

After so many years of getting all she wants, I highly doubt she is giving up on being mebride. Mayhap she’s trying to be so close to Freya to look better in me eyes.

Freya was a lovely soul, very forgiving and admittedly a bit naïve, but he felt sheshouldn’t be so ready to overlook the mistreatment Elspeth had given her the days beforeso quickly. Smoothing his hand from her hair to her face, Evan propped her face up withhis thumb.

“Freya, I ken ye want to see the best in Elspeth, and ye should, but I daenae want ye todrop yer guard around her,” Evan said. “Ken of it, for many years she manipulated herparents into seeing what they wanted to see, daenae ye ken she might be daeing thesame to ye to have ye like her?”

A tight knit of her brows told Evan that his words were not received with the grace he hadhope for. She pulled away from his hand and shook her head with a wary look in her eye,“Are ye saying…I shouldnae forgive her?”

“Nay,” he rushed to correct her. “It’s just, Freya, ye arenae aware of the many tacticspeople use to deceive ye into gaining their trust again. A trust they daenae deserve.”

“It daenae sound as if ye want me to come to good terms with her,” Freya edged awayfrom him. “For all her bad sides, she is still a human being, Evan, and she needscompassion. She did some awful things, aye, but she should have someone who has faithin her to change.”

Frustrated that Freya was missing his point, Evan pressed, “That’s nae…I just want ye tonae give her all yer trust, Freya. People daenae change that quickly unless a bright lighton the way to Damascus blinded them.”

Her eyes shut off completely, and she stood up while crossing her arms over her chest,“Are ye sayin’ she has nay chance to become a better person?”

Joining her on her feet, Evan reached out for her, but she danced out of his reach, andthe worst part was that pain was lancing over her face, “I have hope she will, but I doubtit will be that quick.”

Her lips went tight, and her face was entirely shut off. Freya shook her head slowly, “Icannae believe ye, Evan. Everyone has a chance to change, and they’ll get there faster ifthey have someone there to help them.”

Feeling that he was losing in getting through to her, he said, “I just deanae ken ye shouldgive her all yer trust when she isnae givin’ ye anything.”

“She is,” Freya’s voice had dipped to a hush. “She is tryin’ to be me sister, one I neverkent I could have had.”

“I daenae ken she likes ye, Freya,” Evan blurted, “Even now, she daenae seem to careabout ye. She might act so but…” he paused to rake a hand through his hair, “I havenever seen her be happy with ye, even when ye have spent hours together. I’m telling yeFreya; she doesnae deserve yer love.”

His words had pushed her over the edge, and he could see it when she fully closed offfrom him. She stepped away from him when he reached out for her. It cut deeper whenshe made for the door.

“Freya, please stop,” he reached out. “It’s yer last night here; please stay with me. Weagreed, remember?”

Still, she backed away, “I cannae Evan. I daenae ken I can stay with ye tonight whilewe’re fighting. We cannae sleep in the same bed with all this disagreement between us.”

His chest went cold, “Freya—”

But she was already out the door. After clenching his eyes tight, Evan went to close itbehind her, wishing that he could spin the dials of time and go back to stop himself fromuttering those careless words. He did not sleep that night with regret, a sour ball, heavyin his heart.

The night was bitterly cold, even with the raging fire in his hearth, Evan felt no warmth.All his expectations of having Freya by his side, of loving her all the night through, to feelher body on his, to hear her soft cries and to have her in his arms, had faded away into atrite fantasy.

His empty bed mocked him, and when dawn came, the sheets were a prison. TheMilleson’s would be off to their homes just after the morning meal, and there was nothinghe could do to stop them.

I can ask her to stay, but I doubt she will accept.

Slipping out of bed, he winced at the cold stone floor where the warmth from the fire hadnot reached. His tub was filled, and after a quick bath, he donned another winter plaid, athick gray one with thick blue sticking, woolen trews, and sturdy boots.

Refusing to look himself in the copper mirror, for fear that he would see his haggard face,Evan left to the dining hall where he knew a hefty feast would already be laying out onthe tables. God help him if he would eat a bite of it.

The Milleson’s were not at the table yet, but his mother was there and most of the clan’speople, clinking goblets and having a merry time. He even passed some who were talkingabout Yuletide, and how they would celebrate it.

Stepping up the dais, he kissed his mother’s cheek, and she, in turn, frowned, “Did yesleep at all last night, Son?”

“Nay,” Evan reached for his goblet, pleased to see that it was filled with wine. Not willingto expound on it, he trained his gaze on the doorway where the family would enter.

His spirit sunk even further when the family came in, the Laird and Lady sporting smiles,while Freya was a bit gaunt. He wished she would see his eyes, but she kept her eyestrained away. His gaze flickered to Elspeth, but her present nonchalant look was nodifferent from the one she usually wore.

Look at me Love, please.

She kept her eyes down and on her lap. How Evan ached to reach out to touch her faceor compliment on her royal-blue dress. But her diligent attention to the table chilled himeven deeper. Evan stood and addressed the people before him only because he had to,as his heart was not in it.

With the goblet lifted high, he called the attention of the people and announced, “Thisday marks the last day the Millesons will be with us as a family. I pray ye all wish them asafe journey home and peace upon arrival.”

An agreeing roar accompanied by feet stomps, and the slapping of tables nearly shookthe walls, but Evan was not done, “And for the next coming Spring, when the land hasawakened from its sleep, when the flowers are in full bloom. Ye will all witness memarriage to lovely Freya Crushom!”

That brought her head up and bashfully, she waved. At least he had earned her attention.She aimed a smile at him, and though slight, it was balm to his ragged soul. Evan drankmore than he ate, preferring to have his fill of Freya than eating food.

When the family announced that they were going to leave, Evan managed to catch Freyabefore she went to her room. In a private nook, he cupped her face, with both hands,“Love, look at me.”

She did, and he breathed out in relief, “I wasnae right last night, I never meant to angerye, mo ghràdh, but I still daenae believe Elspeth will change so soon…” he stroked herskin. “I missed ye with me last night.”

Her hands rested on his, and her eyes slipped close, “I ken, Evan, I missed you too but…”her eyes opened, and a strong determination was in them, “but I choose to believe thatshe is changing, and I want to be there when she does.”

She tried to pull away, but he held on, “Freya, please, take precaution. I’d be heartbrokenfor ye if she takes yer trust and throws it away.”

Freya lips flattened, but instead of saying something, she pressed forward and kissedhim, a mere meeting of their mouths, but it was more than he had expected.

“I’ll see ye at Yuletide, Evan,” she whispered, “Come see me when ye can.”

She slipped out of his hold and went up the stairs. Lingering at the entranceway, hewaited till they came back down and saw them to the carriage. The snow was moderatelythick, but not enough that he thought would block the roadways. He shook the Laird’shand and embraced Freya. To the Lady and Elspeth, he gave them his best wishes andstood apart when they entered the carriage and rode off.

He stood there, staring at the snow filling in the grooves the carriage’s wheels had leftbehind. His mother’s hand rested on his arm, and he twisted to see her.

“It pains ye to see her leave, aye?”

“Immensely,” Evan said, rubbing his tired eyes, “more than I had expected.”

“Yer Faither would look at me the same way ye are looking out for Freya now,” sheadded, “ ‘Tis a mark of yer love for her, Son. And I’m proud of ye for choosing such a

lovely, gentle lady to be your wife.”

Turning away from the door, he nodded, “Aye, I do too.”

He then rubbed his chest, right over his heart, not sure why there was a deep lingeringache resting there. Evan still did not feel settled with Elspeth, cozying up to Freya.Perhaps she was doing right by her sister…but he doubted it.

Still tormented by the pain she had seen in Evan’s eyes when they had parted, Freya keptsilent on the way back to the Lobhdain Lairdship. She heard the chatter between hermother and Elspeth about the spring wedding, but she kept agonizing that she had madea mistake.

Should I have stayed with him last night?

Evan was strident that Elspeth was not changing, but Freya could see the effort her sisterwas putting in to not cling to her old ways. She slipped here and there, but she could seethat Elspeth was getting more conscientious of those around her. She had to believe iteven if Evan did not.

“Freya?” Lady Grace nudged her.

Blinking, Freya attempted to smile, but it dropped short. Clearing her throat, she asked,“Pardon?”

Lady Grace was sympathetic, “Yer mind is back with Laird Lobhdain, eh?”

“Aye,” she confirmed.

“Ye ken, we’re nae that far away,” Lady Grace said, while reaching for Freya’s hand. “If yewant, we can turn back.”

A quick look out the window told Freya that they were halfway there, so she shook herhead, “Nay, nay, I’ll be all right. I’m going back for Yuletide anyway. ‘Tis only a fewweeks till then. I want to spend this time with ye. It’s only fair.”

“Then we’ll talk about yer wedding,” Elspeth exclaimed while clapping her hands. “Tellme again about the dress ye want to wear? We can have two made because I want to bewith ye on the day.”

“That’s so precious, that ye two would like to look the same,” Lady Grace put in. “I willcall the seamstress and have her take yer measurements.”

“Light-green silk,” Elspeth exclaimed, “That’s the best for us.”

“I’d rather cotton,” Freya contradicted. “I still daenae feel that comfortable in silk…orvelvet.”

Elspeth pouted but did not shut off as they made plans for the wedding. The floweryconversation continued until they reached the Milleson’s castle and all but ran in throughthe heavy snow.

“All right,” Laird Aidan called while brushing snow off his shoulder. “Warm bath for all ofus. I won’t risk the chance of us getting ill.”

Hugging her mother, Freya went off to her room, still bogged down by the fact that shehad hurt Evan. She never wanted to see that agony in his eyes again and vowed toapologize wholeheartedly the moment she saw him again. She did not have to wait longfor the servants to fill her tub, and she bathed in solemn silence.

Though the marks had faded, Freya traced her fingers over the kiss marks Evan had leftduring their joining. A soft shiver ran through her when she remembered the possessiveglimmer in his eyes while looking down on her, and the slickness of his skin as he movedwithin her. Most of all, experiencing an intense pleasure that had shattered her to pieces,making sparks of white erupt behind her eyes, and floating back into a sea of warmnumbness that came after.

Her body felt heavy when she stepped out of the tub, and she dressed in a thick browndress and hose to keep the cold from her feet. After sending for some warm milk, sheperched on a large padded chair by the window and looked out.

I feel so guilty, Evan, forgive me, please.

A knock on her door alerted her to a person coming in, but instead of a servant bearingher cup of milk, it was Elspeth. She looked freshly bathed and dressed too and wasbearing two cups. She rested one before Freya and smiled, “We ken too much alike. Ialso sent for a cup of milk.”

Curling up in a seat near Freya, Elspeth took a sip of her milk then asked, “I dinnae wantto ask with Maither and Faither near us, but that night after yer engagementannouncement, ye went missin’. Were ye with Laird Ruthven then?”

“Aye, I was,” Freya smiled.

Elspeth leaned in, and her eyes were mischievous. It was a sudden and unexpected shiftfrom the calm, dismissive air Elspeth usually took on. Her voice dipped to a whisper, “Didye share his bed?”

Taken aback by the straightforward question, Freya wondered why Elspeth would want toknow this. “Erm…aye, I did, but why…”

Elspeth’s high squeal cut Freya’s words off, and she winced at the piercing sound. When

Elspeth went quiet, she finished her question, “Why would ye want to ken this?”

“Oh, please,” Elspeth rolled her eyes. “Ye need someone to confide in, aye, and I doubtye would tell this to Maither. I’m right here. Who’s best to keep yer secrets than yersister?”

It felt strange, but Freya allowed Elspeth to tease tidbits out of loving moments with Evanout of her, and in her mind, she relieved that magical night, when they had coupled, allover again. She kept the most profound secrets to herself like their first kiss and how itfelt to rest in his arms, but let Elspeth know a few things. “He’s so passionate andcaring.”

A wistful look crossed Elspeth’s face, and her fingers curled around the cup. “Ye truly lovehim, daenae ye?”

“I do,” Freya smiled into her cooling milk. “Which is why I want to apologize to him whenI see him again.”

Elspeth’s brow quirked up, “Apologize? For what?”

After considering her words, Freya stopped herself from admitting that she and Evan’sdisagreement had come from discussing Elspeth, “Naything for ye to worry yerself about.”

Profound disappointment showed on Elspeth’s face, but she masked it with a smile, “Soabout the wedding dress…”

Though they had already discussed this, Freya allowed Elspeth to dive right back into thewedding dress discussion. When the call for supper came, she requested light portions tobe sent to her room as tiredness was tugging at her mind.

When the stew and bread came, she ate but sat up for a while reading the book she had

carried from Evan’s home before going to bed. To get more comfortable, she tugged thehairpin Evan gifted to her out of her hair, and after rubbing her fingers over the smoothstones, let it rest on the nightstand.

Her rest was fitful, as worry for Evan still rested on her mind, and woke her in the middleof the night. Instinctively, she reached for the hairpin Evan had given her where she hadrested it on her nightstand but felt it gone. Perhaps it had dropped off the table.

She made to stand, but a sudden fit of dizziness took her, and she pressed a hand to herhead. Freya moved off again, but her stomach lurched, and she could not see straight.Maybe it was best to go back to sleep and search for it tomorrow.

Reaching for the blanket, she draped it over her legs and went back to sleep. When shewoke again, the dizziness had cleared up, but the hairpin was still gone. Frantic, sheturned the room upside down searching for it. Aside from the stone necklace her fatherhad given her, it was the most precious thing she owned.

The gift had more weight as it was her future husband who had given it to her. She hadto find it. She was on her knees again, looking under the bed with her heart in her throatwhen someone entered the room.

“Freya!” Lady Grace’s voice was alarmed. “Did a storm run through here?”

Popping up from the floor, Freya barely got a word out when she saw what the lady washolding—the same pin. “Oh, thank goodness,” she said, reaching out for the pin. “I’vebeen looking for this from the moment I woke up.”

“A servant found it in the hallway and kent it was Elspeth’s,” Lady Grace said, “It’s abeautiful design.”

“Evan gave it to me,” Freya said lovingly as she turned the pin over. “Said I had rebellioushair.”

Lady Grace laughed, “I can see why he would ken so. Freya, I hope ye’re nay carrying anyguilt about this engagement to Laird Ruthven. Ye did naythin’ wrong, Elspeth did. But forye, ye must understand love is a force onto itself. Sometimes…sometimes it takes us bysurprise.”

“I ken,” Freya replied, “It haunted me for a while, but Elspeth and I talked it over, shetold me it was nay me fault.”

Surprised that her daughter had done such a compassionate thing, Lady Grace smiled, “Iken she might be beginning to learn how to treat others.”

“I do too,” Freya agreed, then paused. “Ye’re nay upset that I’ll be going back to Yuletidewith them, are ye?”

“Nonsense,” Lady Grace shook her head, “I’m happy ye’ve found happiness, Dear. LairdRuthven is topsy-turvy about ye, and I ken ye are the same. I willnae lie, it feels sosudden to find ye and lose ye, but I ken I won’t be too far from ye at all. Yer home is justa hop and skip away from ours, and I wish ye years upon years of happiness.”

Moved by her mother’s kindness, Freya embraced her, “Thank ye, Lady Grace.”

“The seamstress will be here on the morrow,” Lady Grace added, “Are ye ready for a newwardrobe, Dear?”

The days blended themselves into a blurred stream of long nights and short days, fittingsand cloth choices, flurries of snow, and graying skies. Winter had come on in full force,and in a short while, everything was white and frosted. When the lands were not piledhigh with snow from a morning snowfall, Freya dared venture out into the backlands, andlook at the transformation around her.

Once, when Elspeth accompanied her out into the barren garden, she said, “Maither and

Faither dinnae ken, but there is this little cliffside where ye can see the sea far out. Iwould like to go there with ye one day.”

Freya reached out for her, “I’d like that, but it has to be when the roads are not piledmiles high with snow.”

“Maither and Faither are going to be out on the second day next week, we can go then,”Elspeth said, her tone dipping to those of a conspiracist. “We’ll be out there and backbefore they realize it.”

Embracing her sister, Freya was about to speak when Elspeth pulled away, “This came forye this morning.”

Handing her a letter, Elspeth smiled, “It’s from Laird Ruthven.”

Looking at it, Freya saw his red seal and smiled. “Thank ye.”

“I’ll leave ye to it,” Elspeth slipped away.

Breaking the seal, Freya read words that she swore were from a poet. Evan must havesplit his chest in half and bled over the paper, as all she read were affirmations of his lovefor her, and his grief at seeing her go with pain in his eyes. When Evan touched on thenight they had shared, and his wish to feel such ‘soul-binding’ pleasure with her againalong with the joy he had felt with her, Freya had to stop and catch her breath.

Pressing the letter to her chest, she was grateful it had been sealed.

Me too, Love.

At the very end, he begged her forgiveness for upsetting her and swore never to do such

again. He concluded with; Ye are half of me heart and soul, Freya. Be safe; love. I’ll bethere in five days, sleet or snow.

Pressing a hand to her heart, Freya kept the burn from under her eyes to materialize intotears. Why did happiness bring tears at all? Keeping the letter close, Freya consideredwriting back but had no words that could match the ones Evan had given her.

She hid the letter under her pillow before going to dinner in the Great Hall, and she toldLady Grace that Evan was planning to be there in the next five days, and a delighted looksprang up on her face.

“That’s wonderful, Dear,” Lady Grace swooned. “He is committed.”

“Well, he said sleet or snow, he’d be here,” Freya admitted to her food more than hermother.

“A knight covered in snow armor,” Lady Grace tittered. “Daenae ye ken, Elspeth?”

Elspeth lifted her goblet, “As long as he doesnae freeze from the cold, he’ll be welcome.”

“Of course, he will be welcome,” Lady Grace smiled, “He is soon to be family, aye?”

“Aye,” Elspeth nodded, but her smile seemed a bit off to Freya. A bit twisted and hadhints of unpleasantness, possibly sorrow.

She is probably still upset about her broken engagement. I kent we’d talked about it,what more can I do to have her forgive me? Is there somethin’ I can give her? How can Imake it up to her?

T

2 4

he day Elspeth had said about their parents had come around, and from the dayshe had received the letter from Evan, he was slated to arrive a day after. Joyfulexpectation was bubbling in Freya’s heart, and she hopped into the carriage

behind Elspeth. Stopping herself from fidgeting, she busied herself with looking out.

“Are ye planning anything special for Laird Ruthven’s arrival on the morrow?” Elspethasked nonchalantly while examining her nails.

A wave of unjustified guilt seized Freya, and she reached out to her sister, “Elspeth, I kenye told me there is naythin’ for me to apologize for, but I cannae help but feel ye’reunhappy.”

A tight smile creased Elspeth’s face, “Nay unhappy, Freya, it’s more that I wish I hadnaedone all those things to push the Laird away. Every time I ken of him, I remember mereprehensible actions, and they push me back into an ugly place, where I was a harridan.I dinnae want to be that person again.”

“I kent it!” Freya grinned. “I kent ye were trying to change! I told Evan, but he dinnaebelieve me. Under all of yer troubles, I have to believe ye are a good person, Elspeth,perhaps ye can show it to him when he arrives.”

“Sooo,” Elspeth dragged out the word, “He daenae ken I’m intuitive enough to see theerror of me ways and try to change them?” She looked out the window, “I suppose I’llhave to show him then.”

“He’ll appreciate it,” Freya nodded in surety. “I ken he will.”

The carriage trundled on with the scenery changing from bare forest to more extensive,barren plains that merged to rocky outcroppings and gritting gravel, underneath thesnow, that jerked the carriage wheels.

The snow had stopped from the morning, and though the skies were light gray, the sunwas a calm, silver disk above, and there was a chance the day would be fair enough.Freya kept her eyes out the window, and when the vehicle stopped, she did not wait forthe driver to open the door for her.

Her feet hit the ground, sinking a little into the thick inches of snow, and before her wasthe cliff that Elspeth had spoken about. The outcropping probably did give a spectacularview of the sunset, but it was just after midday. They would have to wait long hours tosee it, and Freya was apprehensive about going back home before their parents did.

The plod of feet on the snow-covered ground behind her had Freya turning. Elspeth hadtaken one of her maids with her and a basket of food, to have a meal at the cliffside. Thesnow had stopped falling thickly, and only light fluff drifted down here and there.

“Ye may lay down the blanket,” Elspeth directed her maid with a flick of her hand.

While she was spreading out the thick woolen blanket, Freya went as close to the edgeas she dared and spotted the icy blue waters of a half-frozen loch below. The sectionsthat had not been iced over showed her deep, unfathomable blue beneath, and sheswallowed nervously before stepping away.

“Freya?” Elspeth called, and she turned to see her sister already seated, and went to joinher. Folding her legs to the side, Freya looked over the food piled on the blanket, coldcuts of beef and roasted fowl, cheeses, and rolls of pieces of bread.

Goblets were set out, and Elspeth reached out for the wineskins, then handed one to her,“This is cider, I remember ye’re nay too particular about wine.”

“Thank ye,” Freya said as she poured out her drink.

“So, after yer wed, what do ye ken ye’ll do?” Elspeth asked.

Unsure of how to reply, Freya dithered. With hesitant words, she spoke about followingup with the tutors, and spending time with the healers. She even suggested travelingback to her village on the days when she did not have to be at the castle with Evan.

Swirling her cider, Freya sighed, “I should have spoken to Evan about this.”

Reaching for the skin, she poured more out and drank, not realizing she drank more thanshe ate. When she did reach for a roll of bread, the tiny shift had her feeling that theearth was moving violently underneath her. She pressed a hand to her forehead andfought back the swimming sensation taking her mind.

“Freya?” Elspeth said cautiously. “Are ye all right?”

Blinking furiously, Freya frowned at the sight of two Elspeth’s before her, the images ofher sister splitting apart and merging with every breath she took. And her body felt heavy—even lifting her arm felt as if she was dragging a bag of brick up to her face. Sheblinked, and her lids were heavy as lead.

Elspeth came forward and peered into her eyes, “Freya, are ye all right?”

“Nay,” Freya said, and the goblet tumbled out of her hand. “Nay, I daenae feel right. We’llhave to go back to the castle—” as she tried to stand, her feet crumbled under her. Inshock, she realized when she had felt this before—the night when her hairpin had gonemissing. Had—had Elspeth drugged her that time as well with the milk?

Her knees collided with the sharp gravel, and she called out in pain. “Elspeth, help.”

Her sister sat back, and slowly finished her drink while Freya’s trembling hand stretchedout for help. Nonchalantly, Elspeth gestured to her maid, “Strip her.”

While her clothes were being torn from her, she heard Elspeth say, “Ye carried the dye,aye?”

Evan was just about to exit the Great Hall when someone rushed in, and shouted, “Laird!Laird! I’ve come from Laird Lobhdain. It’s Miss Crushom, she—”

The mention of Freya’s name had Evan leaping from the dais, rushing to the man andgrabbing him by his shoulders, “Is she all right?”

“Aye, but ‘tis her sister, Me Laird, she plunged over a cliff—”

“A cliff!” Evan shouted, “God’s blood, where!”

“The cliff’s a few miles from Loch Oich, Me Laird,” the messenger divulged. “And MissCrushom is distressed, she needs yer help,” the man ended.

Spotting a guard standing restlessly at the side, Evan snapped to him, “Get fifteen mensuited, some hardy and ready to dive, and have them ride out with me, immediately.”

Rushing out of the room, Evan took the stairs three at a time to grab a thick coat with ahood, hardier boots and slid two dirks into them before grabbing a sword. His head wasspinning with frenzy for Freya and worry for Elspeth. It was late, but he vowed to go todawn if his men did not find Elspeth and, even then, send another set of his men to keep

the search on.

He was not fond of Elspeth, but she was a person, and he had to acknowledge that shedeserved to live. He got to the front, where a guard held his horse ready to ride. All theother men were mounted, and every fifth had a lit torch in hand.

Nodding his thanks, Evan mounted his horse and shouted, “We ride to Loch Oich. All of yeare to search the waterbed until dawn, or until we find the lass. If she isnae foundtonight, another set will come, and we’ll rotate until we do. We will find her.”

They rode off in the darkening dusk, with the light from the torches lighting the way.Halfway there, snow began to flutter down, and Evan cursed under his breath. The flurrywas getting worse, but he was not going to let Freya down when she needed him themost.

He knew the Laird must have had his people there searching for his child, but no one inhis position would turn away help. His men would search for Elspeth, but his priority wasFreya. He had to comfort her, especially now, when she was so adamant about givingElspeth a chance to prove herself, while Elspeth might never get the opportunity to do it.

Freya, me Love, we will find yer sister.

Without the spots of ice, Loch Oire was a blue-black stretch of ink carving through theland, and the gully that is its bed had a steep slope to it. As Evan had suspected, LairdLobhdain’s men were already there, combing through the dry scrub bushes at the sides,and some brave men were diving into the loch, braving death by consumption to save thelass’ life.

Evan found the Laird at the top of the cliff where Elspeth had fallen from. A row of torcheswas there too, giving light to the surroundings and the searching men. Laird Lobhdainwas standing like a monolith at the edge of the cliff, and his pale face was set in a rigorof pain.

Evan eyed the carriage and, from the window, saw Freya sitting there, her head pressedon the pane and the pin in her hair, glinting with the light from the torches. It pained himto turn away from her, but he had to speak with the Laird first.

“Laird Lobhdain,” Evan called as he jogged to his side, “I came as soon as I heard.”

The man shot him a grieved look, “I ken, and thank ye, Saunderson.”

Inching to the cliff’s edge, Evan looked over and saw only a dark line of water below andthe torches of the men searching the waters and the ravine. His eyes skimmed over theragged walls, the pointed spits of rocks below that would have skewered Elspeth in halfand grimaced, “Miss Milleson dropped from here?”

“Aye,” Laird Lobhdain said, “Freya said she went to look over the edge and lost herfooting. Nay one was close enough to grab her or pull her back. ‘Twas a miracle sheavoided the rocks.”

A headache was beginning to bloom at Evan’s temples, and he pressed his palm to hiseyes. He feared Elspeth was dead, laying on the bottom of the loch where they couldnever reach, or washed down the stream and was out in the sea already. But he wouldnever voice those fears to the man who was heartbroken and torn apart standing as hisside.

“Laird Lobhdain, I vow to ye, me men will nay stop searching for her until we do find her,”Evan said solemnly.

“Thank ye for ye help, Son,” the man sighed. “I ken ye want to see Freya, please, gocomfort her.”

“Thank ye, Sir,” Evan said, dropping the honorific as the man had just called him ‘son’.

“I’d have felt better if I had heard that they were attacked by those from me rival clans,”Laird Lobhdain grated. “But to ken that she slipped…I am devastated.”

There was nothing Evan could ever say or do to ease the man’s pain. The best he coulddo was to lay a comforting hand on Laird Lobhdain’s shoulder, Evan excused himself,went to the carriage and entered to find Freya desolate, and her eyes were wide andvacant. Grief-stricken to see his love so shattered, Evan went to sit at her side and pulledher into his arms.

“Talk to me, Love,” he coaxed tenderly, “Let me share yer burden.”

She rubbed her face into the crook of his neck, “I—I dinnae even see when she fell over.We were e…eating and waiting for the s…sunset so she could tell me why she loved thisplace so much, but just as I looked up, she was gone. I—I only saw a flicker of her as s…she fell over.”

Pressing her closer, Evan dropped a kiss on her forehead, “I cannae imagine what ye’refeeling, Love, but I must apologize for being so hard on Elspeth. I ken ye were working onmaking more bonds with her and me doubts about her suddenly changing her badcharacter werenae helping.”

Freya tensed under his arm, her body going rigid, and Evan duly cursed himself. The lasswas hurting for her missing sister, and he was only reminding her of his dislike of her.Hissing under his breath, Evan apologized again.

“That was wrong of me,” he sighed, “I should ken better than diggin’ it back up again.”

Her hand rested on his, “I ken. I’m glad ye’re here, though.”

Something resounded in Evan’s ear—Freya’s tone. Something was not right about it. Heknew how his love spoke, her ‘I’s’ were softer, heavily rural, and sounded more like ‘Ahs’than the proper word. Still, he shook the notion off—she was shocked by her sister, that

had to affect her in ways he could not count.

Running his arm down the length of her spine, Evan did his best to assure her, “Me menare down at the loch with yer Faither’s and are searching for her too. If we dinnae findher tonight, me men will come back on the morrow and keep searching until we do.”

Her hand clutched at his clothes, “But…but what…what if she’s dead?”

With no words to answer her question with, Evan could only hold her close, until LairdLobhdain came back and opened the door. The tightness on his face told Evan that theystill had not found Elspeth. “Sir?”

“Take Freya to yer home, Son,” the older man said. “I ken she needs ye more than sheneeds me or her Maither tonight.”

“But Faither—” Freya started, and again, Evan felt the subtle spark in his mind. Freyanever called the Laird her father; it was always Laird Aidan.

“Nay buts, Freya,” the man said strictly. “It is late, and ye’re distraught. Go withSaunderson and, Son, keep her with ye. Tonight, has already been rough on her. Takethe carriage back to yer home, and I’ll send another maid, as her old maid Miriam isslightly unwell, to help her on the morrow.”

“Aye, sir,” Evan nodded.

“I cannae promise ye, Freya, but I’ll do me best to save yer sister,” Laird Lobhdain said,before he closed the door and ordered the driver to take them to the Ruthven Castle.

Freya sank in his arms and closed her eyes, the tight knot in her brows and clench of herhands on her skirt, showing her distress. The journey to his home was filled with uneasyquiet between them, and arriving at the still-active castle, Evan helped Freya out—and

her palms were smooth.

“Yer hands,” he said, “they’re smooth.”

“Oh,” Freya said, “Elspeth gave me a trick, to use raw sugar and olive oil to remove thecalluses. I kent it would better for me as yer Lady to nay look so…unrefined.”

“Ye dinnae have to do that,” Evan said as he ushered her inside, “I like ye as ye were,callused hands and all.”

A few people passed by them, but only once did Evan stop, and that was to ask if hismother was in bed. After getting an affirmative, he guided Freya to his rooms. “Do yewant a bath, Love? I ken it's late, but I can have them fill the tub.”

“I…” Freya’s eyes drifted around the room, “I ken that would be best. I’m cold and veryunsettled.”

“I can only imagine,” Evan said, smoothing his hand over her arm, “I’ll send for ye water.”

While she went toward the bed and tugged her fur coat off, Evan went to summon aservant. With the order given for the water, he found Freya perched at the window, andher face turned toward the direction of the Lobhdain Castle, worry painted on her face.

Evan went behind her and rested his chin on her temple, “They’ll find her, love. Theyhave to.”

Freya’s head rested just under his chin, and her lashes fluttered, “I pray so.”

After staring at the falling snow, he kissed where his lips rested, “I’ll have the oil in thewater for ye.”

“Join me?” she asked.

“Nay this time,” Evan said, kindly. “Take all the time ye need. I have to speak with someof me men. A few of them are hardy enough to dive the loch without risking their lives,and I have to sort out the rotation they’ll have to take in searching for Elspeth.”

Her smile was thin, and Freya nodded solemnly as he left the room. He braved the snowand went to his guard’s house and spoke with the co-captain of the forces on how thesearch for Elspeth was going. He got the names of the men who could dive and orderedthe captain to make plans with them on where to search at dawn.

“Have faith; we’ll find her,” were his parting words as he left the room.

When Evan got back to the room, he saw that Freya had not gotten out of the bath yet,and laid out a long white léine on the bed for her to dress in when she did. Leaving again,he found a passing servant and asked her to get warm milk, pieces of bread, cheese, andsweet fruit preserves for a late supper.

Lingering in the corridor, Evan allowed the events of the day to settle on his soul. He feltblindsided, and if he was still digesting his shock, he could only assume how Freya wasfeeling. Rubbing his face, Evan went back inside to see Freya dressed in the léine he hadleft out for her, and was laying on the bed.

The thick fabric still draped over her curves, and her hair slipping over her shoulder wascompelling, but for another situation, one where all was fine in their lives. Evan perchedon the edge of the bed and smoothed her hair away, “I’ve sent for some food, maybe ye’llfeel a little better when ye’ve eaten somethin’.”

“Nae hungry,” Freya mumbled.

“Come on, Love,” he coaxed. “Ye need to eat something.”

She shook her head, “That willnae make me feel better.”

“What will?”

Rising from her spot, Freya sat, and the wide neck of the léine slipped to bare the tops ofher breasts. She reached out for him, resting a hand on his cheek, “Kiss me?”

His eyebrows darted to his hairline, “Pardon?”

Freya got to her knees and tugging the tails of the underdress to free her knees, and shestraddled him. “I want yer company, Evan, please, distract me from all this madness.”

Stunned, Evan softly shifted her away, “Nay, Freya.”

“Why nae?” she pleaded, dipping her head to kiss his jaw, “We’ve coupled before.”

His astonishment to her salacious actions, especially when she should be grieving andworried, had him deeply confounded, and he pushed her away. Freya was never thisforthright, and he began to worry what those few days being in Elspeth’s company haddone to her.

Mayhap it’s the shock of seein’ her sister fall.

“Nay, Freya, ye’re nay kenning things right. Ye need time to rest, the shock of Elspeth’saccident is affecting ye.”

Firmly lifting her off his lap, Evan placed Freya on the bed, “Ye need to eat somethin’ andrest. I’ll be sleepin’ on the floor.”

“Evan!” she sniffled. “I need ye and yer—”

“I’m allowing ye time to realize how perilous this is,” Evan cut in tenderly but with steelunder his tone. “Yer sister is either dead or alive, and ye need to put yer energies intopraying for her miraculous recovery.”

Her jaw worked a little, and obstinacy set her shoulders in a line, but then she folded inon herself, hung her head humbly, and fiddled with the sheet on her lap.

Her tone was resigned, “Aye, yer right. I wasnae seeing things right. I just daenae wantto ken what might be happening to Elspeth now. I’m nay sure what I would do if she isdead.”

The ire that was building inside Evan began to peter out at Freya’s humble acceptance ofhis censure. She lifted her head, “I understand, can ye just kiss me? I daenae want to letye ken somethin’ bad of me; it’s just the worry tears me apart, and I would rather nayken about it.”

Indulgent, Evan leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, before opening herlips a little and stroking her tongue with his. Pulling away, Evan pressed a kiss to herforehead, hoping to soothe her further.

When he pulled back, he cupped her neck and rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone. Hereyes dropped to her lap, and all Evan could think of was how this woman was now in hiscare, and how he would have given all he could to take the pain out of her heart. Henever wanted anything terrible to happen to her again, and when they were wed, hewould make sure she wouldn’t have to.

But then…why is she acting so strange? Freya never initiated intimacy before.

That issue gave him pause, but his thoughts halted when a knock came at his door, and aservant came in with a tray of food. He took the tray with a grateful nod and went toFreya, who was waiting on the bed. He fixed it on her lap, and handed her a cup of warmmilk.

“Drink first,” he ordered, “then eat yer fill.”

As she did, Evan noticed her hesitancy, how she would pause before eating; it was as ifshe was forcing the food down. Halfway through the meal, she set the food aside to tuckher legs up under her chin. Her arms wrapped around her legs, and she propped her chinon her knees.

“I cannae eat,” she mumbled, “Me stomach is too uneasy.”

“I understand,” he inclined his head. “Distress will cut yer hunger.”

She peeked up from the circle of her arms, “And I’m sorry about tryin’ to couple with ye. Ijust miss yer comfort, how ye held me that night. I felt I needed ye that way, but I realizeI’m nay settled enough in me spirit to be with ye that way—I apologize.”

“And I accept,” Evan replied. “Ye should rest, Freya.”

She slipped under the covers, and he stayed where he was, just looking on, worriedabout her. Before he went to his bed, he went to tuck the blanket over her, brushing hisknuckles over her cheek, lightly touching the freckles he loved so much.

Going back to his cot, Evan tugged his covers over himself, and as he flicked his hand up,he saw a small reddish-black smudge on his third knuckle and dismissed it.

It’s probably just dirt. I have to find Elspeth, for Freya’s sake more than mine.

But the reality lingered...what if she could not be found? What then?

E

2 5

van was up before dawn, and went to meet his men, trudging back to the castle inthe misty hours of daybreak. The report was not comforting; his men hadtraversed half of the loch’s length, but had not found any sign of Elspeth.

He swallowed the bitter news over an empty stomach, and after sending the soddendivers up to the healing hall to make sure they wouldn’t get ill, he dispatched another setof men to the loch. After a quick pass through the kitchen, he went back to his room,carrying warm broth and buttered brown bread for Freya.

To his surprise, the bed was empty, and he heard noises come from the adjoining room.Freya came in, her face still heavy with sleep. She attempted to smile, but it dropped flat.“I can see in yer face that they havenae found her.”

“Sadly,” Evan shook his head while Freya slipped into the bed again.

Perched at the edge of the bed, he handed her the pewter bowl of broth, “I’ll have yermaid sent up when she arrives.”

Freya nodded as she sipped the broth. While watching her eat, Evan noticed her using herright hand as her dominant one—but he knew Freya used her left mostly. Then, his eyesflitted to her face, and he noticed that the spots on her face were not the same patternhe had memorized from the days and nights with her in his arms.

But this was Freya. Her impulsive push for coupling aside, this was the woman he loved.Perhaps his mind was tricking him. She finished the broth and nibbled on the bread. “Areye going back to the loch this morn?”

“I gave yer Faither me word,” Evan said, “and I’ll follow up on it.”

Her lips twisted into a grimace, “What if…what if ye daenae find her?”

Rubbing his face, Evan sighed, “I willnae lie, mo ghràdh, it daenae sit well with me thatwe havenae found her already. As this winter is cold and getting colder by the hour, thereis a distinct chance she has died, but I have faith we will rescue her. What we do ken isthat she missed the rocks and went into the water, and the only conclusion is that shewashed downstream. That is our best chance of finding her.”

Twisting away from him, Freya rested her head on the pillow, “And the worst?”

“If she washed out into the coast, we might never find her,” Evan added, biting back thehorror he felt at uttering those words. The mental image that Elspeth’s body would be outthere, in the middle of the sea, bloated and drifted did not sit right with him. Reachingout, he grasped her hand. “We can only pray.”

Freya’s maid arrived, and Evan gave her the room Elspeth had once had when she wasthere. At least, Freya would have a familiar face when he was out with the men.

Dropping a kiss on the back of her hand, he said, “Rest as long as ye need.”

Dressed in thick winter clothes and hardy boots, he did a quick turn in the kitchen forsomething to eat and then rode out to the loch. His men and Laird Lobhdain’s werealready there, picking through the bushes, and once or twice, he saw the wet head of adiver surfacing to get more air.

Time crawled, and an icy pit of despair was settling into his chest as no one saw Elspeth.Not a rip of her clothing, not a clump of her hair—and not her body. Dusk passed, andthey searched till midnight, but still nothing. The full moon up above had an ominousshine to its light, and the faint howls of ravenous winter wolves he could heard over themountainside gave Evan little comfort.

There is another problem—the wolves. They’re starving now, and any flesh is meat forthem. God’s teeth!

Tired, hungry, and filled with despair, Evan joined his men on the ride back home, makingsure to send the divers for medical attention and the men to rest.

“Another day,” he sighed into the murky depths of his glass of wine. “Another day of grief.If I can’t find her, Freya will be terribly upset …”

It felt so improbable that they could not find a trace of Elspeth anywhere. Surely, therehad to be something they had overlooked or dismissed. No one could just disappear fromthe face of the earth without a trace, and Evan dismissed the thought that a kelpie haddragged her off to the depths of the lake.

And if so, what can I tell her? That she’ll never see her sister again?

One thing bothered Evan—Freya was one to her emotions, so why hadn’t she cried? Shedid look upset, but with the level of trust and faith he knew Freya had invested in hersister, he thought there would be more than distressed looks.

Looking back on the minute things he’d noticed about Freya—her eating pattern, herspeech, her direct attempt to be intimate with him—he had a traitorous thought, one sodespicable, contemptible, and heinous, that he tried to dismiss it right away. But itlingered…what if the woman in his bed was not Freya?

Resting the goblet, he trailed a finger around the rim. Knowing how vicious Elspeth could

be, he could not deny that staging such a ruse was not too far for her. She might havetaken Freya’s place, but for what? Did she think she could keep up this trickery all thedays of her life?

If this is so…where is my real Freya…did they kill her? Am I searching for a ghost?

The very thought had his fist clenching around the goblet in a vice-grip. His jaw wentrigid, and he raged against—God, fate, himself—for this cruel deception, if that was whatit was. If Freya was gone, the purest happiness he had ever known had slipped out of hishand like water through his fingers.

Slamming the goblet on the table, Evan’s eyes narrowed. If Elspeth was in his bed, andFreya was the one suffering out there in the cold, in danger of being mauled by a wildbeast, the fires of hell would pale to his wrath.

“If ye’re playing this game, lass, I’ll be happy to play it with ye,” Evan swore.

He sent a message to Laird Lobhdain, excusing him from the search that day, stating thathe had to take care of Freya, but assuring him that his men would be on the groundsearching. He lingered in his father’s study, contemplating his next move.

If Elspeth was indeed in his bed, the only way to prove it was to trick her into revealingherself. The snow was falling in thick clumps, and he wouldn’t be surprised to know therewas some hail mixed in. In a few hours, there would be a blizzard on their hands. Turningback to the door, he left the room.

Freya might have spilled some of her secrets to Elspeth, but I doubt she told them all.

At his cracked-open door, Evan paused as he heard whispering inside. Knocking firstbefore he pushed the door in, he saw Freya seated in a familiar deep-green dress and hermaid beside her. The moment her eyes rested on him, the maid scooted away—

somewhat guiltily, he noticed.

“Evan,” she exclaimed. “I kent ye were gone.”

“I almost left,” Evan said, “But then, I remembered ye need me too. Me men can handleall that is needed at the loch. Care to take a walk with me?”

“O…of course,” she almost sputtered, but stood and brushed her skirts off.

Offering his arm, Freya took it, and he nodded to the maid, “Miss.”

“Where are we going?” Freya asked.

“Somewhere familiar to ye,” Evan said. “The healing hall. I ken our head healer wouldlike to see ye. As our men are diving the loch to find yer sister, ye can help her devise aconcoction to save our men from consumption, if they do contract it.”

A flash of—panic, distress, worry—crossed Freya’s face, and if Evan’s eyes had not beentrained on her, he would have missed it.

“Oh, I daenae ken they need me help,” Freya said flippantly. “I’m sure they can handle itwithout me.”

“Mayhap,” Evan said as he pushed the door in and breathed in the herb-tinted air.“Wouldnae hurt to have more help.”

“Oh, welcome back, Miss Crushom,” Missus Delilah greeted as she came around thecorner, her hand filled with a small mortar and pestle. “Happy to have ye. I’m justfinishing a few remedies for the divers. Do ye have any in mind?”

Clearing her throat, Freya asked, “What have ye already kent of?”

“Garlic soup is our main choice,” the healer said. “But what do ye ken of ginger tea?”

“I…I ken that would be good,” Freya stumbled over her words. Her eyes were dartingaround, as if she was searching for something. Evan tensed, ready to have his suspicionsjustified when she staggered him.

When she spoke, her voice was hesitant, “Perhaps some Ground Ivy leaves if ye have it instock?”

The woman nodded, “Aye, was kenning the same.”

She got it right—Missus Delilah agreed with her. But how could that be? Am I even surethis isnae Freya anymore?

Watching them speak—where admittedly the head healer did most of the talking—hebegan to doubt himself. The timidity he saw with Freya certainly did resonate with hercharacter, but he had seen her grow out of it. She was not the wilting flower he had seenat first—and she had always obeyed him after he had asked her not to shy away fromhim. But she was doing it again.

Has Elspeth’s accident had such an effect on her?

Clearing his throat, Evan stepped in while the two had a lull, “If ye would excuse us, MissDelilah.”

“O’ course, Me Laird,” the woman smiled. “Wonderful to have ye again, Miss Crushom.”

What else is there that I can try?

Leading her back into the castle, he asked, “Would ye mind seeing me Maither for amoment?”

Her sigh was profound, and her smile tight, “On any other time, I would, but I’d like torest now.”

“I understand,” Evan said, holding back the frustration from his voice. “Let me take yeback to me rooms.”

It did not take long to get to his chambers, but as he let her go at the door, she turned arather coy look to him. Sliding a hand through his hair to trail a finger down his jaw, shewhispered, “Stay, please. I’ll dismiss me maid, and we can get…reacquainted.”

Again, his emotions were thrown into a whirlwind. The Freya from the healing room wasthe one he knew, but this one—the sensual one, was one he did not know. Slipping awayfrom her touch, he smiled deprecatingly.

“I have some work to do, Love,” he said. “Please, excuse me.”

He did not turn when he heard her huff and the hard close of the door. He retreated tohis meeting room, solidly conflicted. Perched at the window, he looked out, wishingsomeone or something would come and free him from all this turmoil.

Is she the Freya I ken or isnae she?

He stayed there, mired in his debacle, until the sun dipped and dusk began crawling in.With no more excuses, he went to get something to eat.

Blinking furiously, Freya frowned at the sight of two Elspeth’s before her, the images ofher sister splitting apart and merging with every breath she took. And her body felt heavy—even lifting her arm felt as if she was dragging a bag of bricks up to her face. Sheblinked, and her lids were heavy as lead.

Elspeth came forward and peered into her eyes, “Freya, are ye all right?”

“Nay,” Freya said, and the goblet tumbled out of her hand. “Nay, I dinnae feel right. We’llhave to go back to the castle—” as she tried to stand, her feet crumbled under her. Inshock, she realized when she had felt this before—the night when her hairpin had gonemissing. Had—had Elspeth drugged her that time as well with the milk?

Her knees collided with the sharp gravel, and she called out in pain. “Elspeth, help.”

Her sister sat back, and slowly finished her drink while Freya’s trembling hand stretchedout for help. Nonchalantly, Elspeth gestured to her maid, “Strip her.”

While her clothes were being torn from her, Freya heard Elspeth saying, “Ye carried thedye, aye?”

“Wh—” the word could not come out as her tongue felt pasted to the roof of her mouth.

The maid yanked her thick pelisse coat off, and while unlacing her dress, called thecarriage man to help. He held her legs while the dress was dragged off her, leaving her inonly her thick smock and hose. Elspeth was nibbling on cheese and sipping her wine as ifshe had not a care in the world.

When they were done, Elspeth rested the goblet down and went over to her. Freya’s eyeswere beginning to dim, but she saw the nasty smile Elspeth gave her as she yanked thehairpin from her hair. “Ye kent ye would steal the Laird from me, and I’d let it go bywithout a murmur? Ye? A destitute, ugly, wretch?”

Elspeth held the pin in a grip that would easily let her plunge the sharp end into Freya’sheart. Twitching on the ground, Freya could only stare at Elspeth, her eyes showing thedepth of the gut-wrenching turmoil raging inside her from Elspeth’s betrayal. Theagonizing, excruciating pain within her that was sharper than any wound she had eversuffered. Her heart felt dissected in two.

“He will be with me,” Elspeth snarled. “Ye have nay right to have taken him, and nowhe’ll ken that filth like ye have nay place with yer betters.”

“I daenae ken she likes ye, Freya…I have never seen her be happy with ye, even when yehave spent hours together. I’m telling ye Freya, and she doesnae deserve yer love.”

Evan’s words came back to her with the same icy sensation as the air around her. Freyahad allowed her blind trust to lead her into something that she was not sure she wouldsurvive.

Her eyes clenched tightly, but then she heard Elspeth call to her maid, “Ye have thepaint, aye?”

Paint?

“Aye, Miss,” the maid said.

Cracking her eyes open, she laid with numb limbs as the maid began to use scarlet paintto dot Elspeth’s face with. Dumfounded, Freya watched as her sister transformed into her.Soon, as her chest began to freeze entirely, Elspeth stood and donned Freya’s dress andpelisse. The last laceration to Freya’s heart was when the maid combed Elspeth’s hairinto the same style Freya had on, and the pin was slid in the tresses.

Spinning, Elspeth said, “What do ye ken, Sister Dear?”

Reaching out in desperation, Elspeth spat into her face. Gesturing for the carriage man,she said, “Ye ken what to do.”

Half insensate, Freya felt herself being lifted, and carried to the edge of the cliff. A splitbreath before she was thrown over, Freya called out, “No!”

She sucked in a breath before her body plunged into the depths below, and the waterclosed over her in a cruel closing. Her hand, reaching out in despair, and her body sinkingto the bottom of a watery grave.

“Nay!” Freya shouted, her body jackknifing, and her eyes wide open but unfocused. Theroom was dark, but she felt warmth—an extreme opposite of the cold, she had feltplunging into that loch. The contrasting sensation of having a bed under her back, againstthe liquid vastness she had thought was going to be her grave had her even more scared.

She made to get up, but her limbs felt as fluid as the water that someone hadundoubtedly plucked her from. Her feet landed on the floor, but the cold stone had herwincing. Her hand flew to her chest, and she realized the gown she was in, was not theone she had fallen in.

Bracing her hand on the cot, she tried to get up, but her body was so incredibly weak.She slumped back to the cot, just as the door opened and a woman came in. From thefirelight, Freya saw the woman was older with gray hair pinned away from her aged face.

Shying away from her, Freya bit her words back, but the woman took a seat, rested herhands on her lap, and spoke, “Ye’re finally awake, Dear. I kent ye would be sleeping foranother three days.”

Three days! Good god, they must ken I’m dead.

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ressing a hand to her forehead, Freya took a moment to digest what the olderwoman was saying.

Three days…

“W…where am I?” she asked.

“Eilginn, Dear, me grandson had to fish ye out of River Losaidh,” was her reply. “Came tome with ye in his arms, all aflutter with worry and rightly so, ye were half dead. I’mhappy ye’ve woken. I wasnae sure who to call for ye as I havenae seen ye around theseparts before.”

Looking back on her memories, as bright and crystal as daylight, she shook her head,“‘Tis best that ye dinnae...someone tried to kill me. If they got word that I’m still alive...”she swallowed, “I fear they would try again, and wouldnae miss this time.”

“Nay,” the woman exclaimed, leaning forward with horror splashed across her face. “Sayit isnae so. Who would want to kill ye?”

Not wanting to pull the innocent woman into her mess, Freya shook her head, “ ‘Tis naefor ye to worry about, Missus—”

“Helga, Dear,” the matron smiled.

“Missus Helga,” Freya reached out, “Thank ye and yer grandson very much, but I need yeto keep me presence here quiet. T’would do ye nay good to have word about me goin’around.”

Her words did not comfort the woman, “Dear, if you are in so much trouble, I ken I canarrange for ye to leave this place, go far into the lowlands. Me grandson trades and hecan easily take ye—"

“I appreciate it,” Freya said honestly. “But that willnae help. What would, is for ye to geta secret message to Laird Ruthven. He will come here and help; I ken it.”

“The Laird! Lass, how much trouble are ye in to call for his involvement?”

I must tell her, but how much should I tell her?

Sucking a deep breath, Freya related her tale, about how she had come across Evan inthe meadow, how he had implored her to meet her parents, and how the mystery abouther life had begun to unravel. She did leave out her sister’s betrayal, leaving the womanwith the impression that Elspeth was still engaged to the Laird.

“Someone mistook ye for her and tried to harm ye for her instead?” Helga asked.

It might raise more questions than I have answers, and she might be concerned aboutElspeth too, but I can use this.

“Something of the sort,” Freya said, “It’s a lot, I ken, and I would rather for ye to nae getinvolved. Please, the extent I need for ye in all this is for ye to contact the Laird, and thenye’ll nay had to worry anymore about it.”

Helga shook her head, “All right, lass, but ye still havenae told me yer name.”

“I havenae?” Freya blinked. “Pardon me, it’s Freya, Freya Crushom.”

“Such a lovely name,” Helga smiled, “Well, Freya, is yer stomach settled enough for somesoup?”

For the fourth night in a row, Evan laid on the floor, resolute in his decision to not joinFreya—if it was her, and he doubted it—on the bed. It was a tense air in his quarters, asthe fear for Elspeth’s life—Freya’s life, if his suspicion was right—changed into icy dread atthe thought that she might be dead.

Aside from worrying about that, there was not a day when Freya did not try to seducehim—something that he still found abnormal for her. Freya was not so straightforward,which led to a deep belief that this woman was not her.

Each time Evan refused her, she would pout, then go silent for hours—something heassociated with Elspeth. But even more distressing to Evan were the random questionshe would ask her—and she got them all right.

Sometimes he started to question himself—if his idea that Elspeth had somehow replacedFreya was even halfway sensible. She knew everything Freya did, but her actions wereopposite of the gentlewoman he knew.

Those hours when war waged within himself were the hardest. Thank goodness Evan hadhis meeting room to escape to for his peace of mind, and then his mother. Not wanting toworry her, Evan kept his doubt about Freya to himself, telling her that Freya was stilltroubled about her sister.

“I ken ye care for her, Maither,” Evan said, reaching over to kiss her cheek, “But she’soverwhelmed with many things now. As soon as I am sure she will not break down with

ye, ye’ll be the first to see her.”

“And ye’ve nay word about Miss Milleson?” his mother worried.

“Up to now, nay,” Evan grimaced over the word. “But, we are still looking, Maither.”

She turned concerned eyes to him, “Evan, Son, after so many days ye do realize that—”

He held up his hand, and his tone was jagged and bitter, “I ken, Maither, the chances offinding her are…minimal at best, but we will find her,” he paused, “dead or alive. I prayfor the latter.”

“As do I,” his mother replied, “Good evening, Son. Have some rest.”

With the little I do, I wouldnae call it rest.

Ducking out the door, he closed it behind him and went to the kitchens for somethingwarm. When he found some lamb stew, he asked if some food had been sent up to Freyaand was told some had. Nodding, he left and was crossing the Great Hall when a castleservant boy rushed up to him.

“Me Laird…” the boy, not more than ten summers, bowed thrice. “I have a letteraddressed for ye, Sir.”

Taking it, he asked, “And where did it come from, boy?”

“Eilginn, Sir,” the boy replied, “Was told that ‘tis for yer eyes and yer eyes alone.”

With his curiosity piqued, Evan thanked the boy, told him to get something warm to eat,before taking it to his meeting room. With the room’s privacy, he unloosed the string thattied the paper into a roll and read two short sentences.

I have found something precious to ye, Me Laird. Please come to Eilginn on the banks ofthe Lossiemouth River as soon as ye can. Ask for Helga Coihmd.

“Somethin’ precious to me?” Evan wondered out loud. “What on earth…?”

Turning the paper over as if it had the answers for the many questions running throughhis head, he dropped it and cast a look out the window. It was already dark, and thesheets of snow falling would make it harder to ride out to the township. It would have towait for the next day.

But what is so precious to me?

Locking the letter in a drawer, he went to his room, building up a line of arguments tostave Freya off from asking to be with her—only to find her asleep. Breathing out in relief,he came closer only to hear her say, “Arenae ye tired of sleeping on the floor?”

“‘Tis necessary,” Evan said evenly while taking a seat and reaching for his boot. “I stillken ye’re nay ready for that sort of intimacy, yet.”

“Evan, I’m old enough to ken what is best for me, and ye ignoring me for days isnae it,”she said, crawling to the bed’s edge. “We felt Heaven that night, why wouldnae ye wantto feel that again?”

A chill ran down his spine, while he grasped the laces, “Do ye remember when we firstkissed? How hesitant ye were?”

“Of course, I do,” she said, with a toss of her hair—another thing that was not Freya.

“That night of our engagement. It was magical.”

Her words were a lightning fork, jabbing its blistering heat right through Evan. That wasnot the first time they had kissed—God’s blood. His suspicion was right—it was Elspeth inhis bed, not Freya. When he regrouped, he went right on to unlacing his shoe without aflicker of emotion.

“Aye, ‘t’was surreal,” Evan said as calmly as he could while going for his other shoe. “Andwhen we joined, though I will never regret it, ‘twas wrong of me. Ye pulled away fromme, and though ye soon settled, ye were nay fully ready then, and ye are nay ready now.I’ll nay be making that mistake twice.”

“If ye nay going to be with me, at least kiss me,” she implored. “I miss ye.”

Stopping while tugging the boot off, Evan decided it might be best. Padding barefoot toher, he perched on the edge of the bed, and looped a hand around her back to press herclose.

“Ye must pardon me for the morrow,” he said, stroking her silky hair. “I’ll be out early onbusiness matters.”

“Do ye have to go?” Freya—Elspeth?—asked sullenly. “I want ye here.”

Moving away, Evan replied, “That’s the catch of marrying a Laird. We will be busy a lot ofthe time. Me Faither was gone five days out of the seven.”

“Good lord,” Elspeth sulked while falling back on the bed. “How did she live like that?”

“Through patience,” he replied while getting a clean léine and heading to the washroomannexed to the bed chamber. “It’s something ye will have to get used to when we arewed.”

Inside the room, fury burned through his chest like molten lava. His fist clenched with theunholy urge to go back into the room and grab the woman by her neck. What level ofaudacity did she have to think this trickery would go undiscovered?

Pressing his fingers so deep into his eyes that they stung, Evan sucked in deep breaths,gasping them in as if he was suffocating. Trying his best, he could not reel in the burninganger, and when he thought about the whereabouts of his beloved Freya—who Elspethmight have pushed over the cliff and into the waters—a cold, numbing fury lancedthrough his body.

If she had killed Freya, God help me to nae have her drawn and quartered.

He washed quickly, donned his undergarments, the thick léine, and hose before goingback to the bed chamber. Elspeth looked at him, huffed, and turned away. On hismakeshift bed, Evan’s mind ran over the letter he’d gotten; the note said, somethingprecious to him.

Precious to me…what is precious to me that I daenae—

His eyes flew open—could it be…Freya?

Nay something—someone!

Dressed in another borrowed dress, and a blanket over her shoulder Freya sat at thebackstep of Missus Helga’s house and stared out into the waters that were almost half amile away. The house was on a slight slope and gave her the vantage point of seeing tothe horizon where the deep-blue waters glistened with a crystal sheen.

Did Evan get the letter? Is he on his way? Does Elspeth nae ken what is happening—thatI’m alive?

The morning was slipping away, and thankfully, the hard snowfall had held up, and theflakes were drifting lazily down, in complete contrast to the tight anxiety trapped in herheart. As she gazed out without looking, she bit back the bitter tears that Evan was rightabout Elspeth. She had not earned nor deserved Freya’s trust, but she still had given it toher anyway.

And for what? To be stabbed in the back, drugged and thrown away like rubbish. Freya’schest heaved with the dry sobs, and chills, not from the cold air around her, possessedher body. Her mind flashed back to the moment when hard hands grabbed at her, lobbiedher over the cliff, and the agonized scream that had ripped itself from her throat.

Then, the feel of crashing through the thin ice, feeling the piercing cold that had rippedthrough her garments, encasing her body in a watery casket of ice, and the helplessnessshe felt sinking to the depth. The sensations all came back in a rush, and her bodylurched forward—only to be caught in hands she knew and longed for.

“Shh,” Evan whispered. “Shh, Love, I’m here. Hold onto me.”

Clinging to him, Freya felt him trembling as much as she was, but her body was losingstrength, and her knees crumpled under her. Without missing a beat, Evan grabbed herand sitting, placed her on his lap. Arms were wrapped tightly around, while Evan pushedher head into the crook of his neck. With her ear laid to his chest, she felt his racing pulsein beat with the frantic throb of her heart.

“I’m here, mo chridhe,” he murmured in her other ear.

Trapped in her daylight nightmare, Freya tried to shake the tremors away but failed indismissing the horrific memories. Evan’s hand was stroking down her side, and hiscomforting words barely made any purchase in her mind. Slowly, torturously, she gainedcontrol over her body, when she did face Evan; she saw his anger. It was visual, and aspalpable as was his sadness.

“A sheòid,” she murmured, nuzzling her face into his chest. “Ye’re here.”

“God would strike me if I were anywhere else,” he kissed along the line of her hair. “I amyer hero, Love, because I vowed in me heart to protect ye, and I’ll fight to me last breathfor ye. Even before I deduced it wasnae ye in me home, I feared—God, Freya, I feareddeath was on me doorstep. That if Elspeth was dead, ye would never recover, and ye’ddespise me for nae giving her a chance to prove herself.”

Freya twisted and saw tears brimming at the corners of his eyes. She pressed a fingerunder his eyes, and a drop spilled out. Never had she seen Evan cry. He took her handand clasped it to his temple, to kiss her inner wrist.

“When I got the letter, I pondered what was so precious to me—then I hope it would beye. Hope nearly killed me on the way here, if it turned out it wasnae ye, I wasnae surewhat I’d do.”

“Elspeth is pretending to be me,” Freya said mournfully as she stroked his face.

“Aye,” Evan gripped her closer. “She put on a good show, Love, acted like ye, dressed likeye, and kent some of yer herbal remedies, but she kent little of ye. I was suspicious ofher when I observed how she acted, how she ate, and how she…” he snapped his lipsshut, but Freya gave him a searching look, and he relented, “when she tried to get me tolay with her.”

Aghast, Freya grabbed at him, but he answered her question before she asked, “Nay,Love, nay, I dinnae. The signs were little, but I saw them all and kent she wasnae ye. Ihad to make sure, though, and she answered me questions about our affairs withoutpause, but she dinnae ken when or where we had our first kiss.”

Again, the folly of her misplaced trust in Elspeth carried more anguish than she couldimagine. A low, painful cry tore from her throat but, Evan's arms held her close, drawingher firmly to him. His lips, warm and hard, met hers and seemed to blow breath andvitality back into her body.

When she pulled away, Freya shook her head, “I shouldnae have trusted her, Evan, yewere right. She shouldnae have ever been trusted.”

Grasping her face in both hands, Evan asked, “What did she do to ye?”

Though painful, Freya went back to that fateful day, five days hence. “She said shewanted to see a cliffside and arranged for us to go when our parents were absent. Wetook food to eat, but the cider she gave me was drugged. She got her maid to strip meoff me dress, yank the hairpin out of me hair. Fixed her hair like mine, dyed her face tolook like me, and then got the carriage man to throw me over the cliff.”

A possessive growl, low and animalistic, rumbled through Evan’s chest. Warmth flushedFreya’s body while he held her against his powerful body. The woodsy scent of himenveloped her senses. Turning her face to him, Evan laid a warm, loving kiss on her lips.

“Never again, Love,” he vowed. “Ye’ll never hurt like this again.”

Resting her head on his shoulder, Freya gaze out to the river, “This lady, Missus Helga,her grandson was the one who found me. Said he was walking by the river when he sawme drifting along. He has nay been around as he’s a trader, but I owe him me life.”

“As do I,” Evan held her close.

Soft footsteps behind them announced the arrival of Missus Helga, bearing two goblets inher hand. “Please, drink. ‘Tis sweet mead.”

“Thank ye,” Evan said as he reached for them, handing one to Freya. “What is yergrandson’s name, Miss Helga?”

“Samson,” she smiled, then looked at Freya, “I kent ye left a few things out of yer story,Dear Heart.”

“I apologize, Miss Helga,” Freya said penitently. “I did it because I dinnae want to involveye in a lot of trouble, and believe me, this me situation is born from trouble.”

She gave the older woman her story, from the day she’d met Evan to meeting her birthfamily and to her engagement to him. Freya paused before giving the woman the lastsegments, where Elspeth had tricked her into taking her on the ride where she had nearlykilled her, and looked at Evan for permission.

He nodded, “Nay one kens ye are here, Love, she’ll be safe while I find a way to fix allthis.”

Biting back a grimace, Freya told her the rest. In the end, Miss Helga shook her head.“Ye’ve been dealt a lot of hardships in life, Dear. I have nay doubt this is God’s way ofrepaying ye. But to hear that yer sister is so envious of ye, is very troubling. All me life,I’ve held it that twins shared a soul, ye telling me this has changed me mind.” She shookher head. “Are ye taking her back to yer castle, now, Me Laird?”

Evan looked tortured, and stroked Freya’s arm, slipping it up to her face, “I wish I could,but that wouldnae help any. I have to find a way to expose Elspeth for her deceit andtreachery, before I bring ye into a house that is filled with discord.”

He looked to the elderly lady, “Will ye take care of her for me in the interim? Ye and yergrandson will be compensated handsomely.”

Miss Helga waved her hand, “Nay need, Me Laird, Freya is a delight. I’d have taken careof her even without any incentive.”

“I’m grateful,” Evan said, before turning to Freya, “It rips me heart out, Love, but I mustleave ye here until I can put me house in order. I’ll come for ye the moment I exposeElspeth.”

“How do ye plan to do so?” Freya queried, and when Evan did not answer her instantly,she panicked, “Ye arenae going to…punish her into doing it, are ye?”

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unish her…probably.

“I wanted her drawn and quartered,” Evan admitted.

“Evan!” Freya exclaimed. “Tell me ye dinnae.”

“When I suspected it, aye,” Evan replied. “Can ye blame me? Ye are the most preciousthing to me. I want ye as much as I want air to breathe. I want to protect ye from all thatmight harm ye, so aye, if she is a hazard to ye, I want her gone.”

“Ye can find a better way, Evan,” Freya pressed. “I ken ye can find a way.”

Evan’s lips flattened while he shook his head, “That’s what I’m tryin’ to figure out. Elspethhas mastered manipulation, she did it with yer parents, and the show she’s putting onnow is compelling; only I have had cause to suspect it, and I was proven right.”

“Others might see it too,” Freya offered.

“If ye had interacted with many more people than me Maither and the head healer, aye,”Evan replied, his left hand slipping into the soft hairs at the back of her head. “Elspeth

kens that, and she is keeping herself under the lines of interaction ye drew. She has naeseen me Maither yet, and I ken why—Maither would see right through her.”

“Why nay use that?” Freya asked. “It’s simpler.”

“‘T’would be,” Evan agreed, while his arms tightened around her. “But for all the pain andanguish she’s wrought on ye, I need her to feel the same.”

Freya spun in his hold and straddled his lap, “Evan, ye are nay that kind of person.Vengeance isnae the answer.”

“Aye, ye’re right,” Evan said, “But there is a difference between vengeance and justice,Freya and ye deserve justice for all the wrongs she did ye. She nearly had ye killed forGod’s sake.”

His body began to burn with the heated anger flaring in his chest. Evan heard his passion;he felt his fury but still felt amazed that Freya was choosing a quieter way to resolve it. Inhis heart of hearts, Evan wanted Elspeth to pay dearly for the pain she had wreaked onher sister—but he would never say that to Freya.

Even so, he knew he would never like it if Elspeth woke up the next morning, and hermissing conscience made a sudden appearance. If she came to him and told him thetruth, the anger he felt would never be exorcised, and she would never get what sherightly deserved. It was not right, it was not Christian of him, but he felt anger for Freya,for the woman he loved, for a soul he would die to defend.

“I ken,” Freya muttered. She breathed out a low stream of air, “Ye want her to dosomething that would merit ye coming down on her with fire and fury.”

“I want her to show the world who she is,” Evan said. “Me fury can be shared then.”

The sky was dimming, and dark clouds were inching up from the horizon. Evan looked upand feared that another blizzard of snow was about to happen, and if it was too thick, hemight be trapped.

Turning to Freya, Evan kissed her hairline, “I dinnae ken what I’ll do, but I do ken thatsomething will have to be done soon.” Nudging her head up, Evan shared a sweet, long,loving kiss with her. Pulling away, his thumb ran under her plump lip, “I hate to dae this,Love, but I will have to leave, but only for a day.”

Freya rested her forehead on his collar bone for a moment, “I miss ye.”

His heart felt stabbed in the middle at her softly uttered words, “I…,” he paused, “kenthis Freya, when I go, I’m leavin’ me heart with ye.”

Tenderness flooded his chest even as her lips brushed his chin, and unable to hold back,he kissed her again before pulling away. “Stay safe, Love. I’ve carried one of yer dressesfor ye to wear on the morrow. I’ll be here at dawn for ye.”

She stood and wiped under her eye, wiping away a stray tear. He held back fromreaching out for her again, as if he did, he might never leave. His fist did clench andrelease, but he stopped from holding her.

“Ye too, Evan,” she said, “And please, dinnae do anythin’ to Elspeth ye will regret.Daenae act rashly, please. T’will tear ye apart more than any good ye ken it might do.”

“I promise,” he said, allowing his fingers to brush her cheek for a moment. Turning away,he found Miss Helga looking on them from the sideline. “Take care of her, please. Yehave nay inkling how I am in ye and yer grandson’s debt. One I will surely pay over.Freya, I’ll be back soon, Love.”

“Take care, Me Laird,” Miss Helga nodded. “And dinnae ye worry, she is in good hands.”

Heading out to his horse as the snow started to flutter, Evan forced his eyes to lookstraight. Any wavering would have him back there in Helga’s cottage and staying withFreya. He knew exactly how to make all this mess right.

After arriving home, he hesitated in going to his chambers, but after requesting water fora bath, he stepped in with a neutral look on his face. Elspeth’s maid looked up and thenbowed to her mistress, “I’ll take me leave, Miss.”

She nodded to him, “Good evenin’, Me Laird.”

“Ye as well,” Evan stepped aside to let her out and closed the door behind her.

Elspeth sat up, and Evan glanced at her face, the spots were not the same as the one hehad marked that morning. Her maid had added another set while he was gone. Shemoved from the bed, “How was yer day?”

“Somewhat productive,” Evan said as he bent to stoke the fire higher. Dragging a chairnearer to the hearth, he sat and tugged his boots off and rested his feet, clad in hose, onthe floor to warm. “What about yers?”

Elspeth came to rest on the arm of the chair. She slid her fingers into his hair andsimpered, “Lonely, very lonely. I missed ye.”

Tense, Evan nearly yanked her hand away from his hair. Repulsion was building in hisstomach as sour as bile, but he swallowed over his revulsion. He turned his head and bitback the sneer at her coy look. Her hand slipped from his hair and stroke over his cheek,“Daenae ye miss me?”

“I do,” Evan said, “but I am cold and tired. And I have a lot of work to do after this.”

“Ye cannae spare an hour or two to reconnect with yer wife?” Elspeth pouted. “I kent wecould share a meal by the fire side.”

Lifting his head away from her, Evan said, “I suspect by reconnecting, ye mean coupling. Itold ye about how me Maither wouldnae see me Faither for days at a time. That’sbecause he was putting the needs and wants of others before his. I’ve been groomed inthe same way. It’s somethin’ ye will have to live with, Freya, as it will nae change.”

“I…” her eyes drifted to the window while snow fell heavier, “I feel as if ye’re disregardingme.”

Evan considered doing something to distract her, like kissing her, but could not bringhimself to do it. “I apologize if ye feel that way, but I am nay disregarding ye. I need abath. Where’s yer maid? Ask her to bring ye somethin’ to eat.”

“I sent her away to have time with her family,” Elspeth sulked before she went off to thebed, where an open book lay. A quick look at the cover and Evan saw it was titled, To aYoung Lady. The same book he had kissed Freya over that night. The bile surged to hismouth.

A welcomed distraction came when three youths entered, bearing massive buckets eachand filled the tub with steaming water. Thanking them, Evan went into the adjoiningroom, disrobed, and sank into the tub with a sigh of relief. His head lolled back even ashe knew it was dangerous to relax when he had something important to do—and he wasright.

Then a body slipped into the water, and Evan jolted as if he’d been run through with aflaming spear. Elspeth was naked and in the water, her body resting on his. She wascrawling up his body and horrified, Evan, pushed her away.

“Nay,” he roared. “Get off me!”

“Why?” she sulked, “We’ve coupled before. I am starting to ken ye have nay affection forme.”

“This is nay ye,” Evan hissed. “What on earth had possessed ye, Freya? Ye have nevermade advances like this to me.”

She sat over the water’s level, baring her breasts to him, her dusky nipples tight andshowing her arousal. “I’ve missed yer touch, havenae ye missed me?”

“Nay like this,” Evan grated, keeping his eyes on her face. “Yer immodesty is ratherunbecoming, Freya. Had Elspeth poisoned ye in some fashion?”

“Nay,” Elspeth said, “she hasnae.”

Reaching over, Evan grabbed her and ignored the light that sprung into her eyes, and hepressed her hand to her chest. “When we coupled, I swore the next time would be underthe covenant of marriage. Ye have decided on a spring wedding, so ye have at least fourmonths to wait.”

She huffed and stepped out of the water, and padded, naked back to the room. Herwords were sneered softly, but he heard them still, “Nay wonder ye are a match for her,ye two are suited for each other.”

Pressing a hand to his heart, Evan looked down at his wobbly reflection. “This ends onthe morrow.”

Lobhdain Castle

It was nearly midnight when the messenger arrived at the Laird’s home, and onlybecause Aidan learned that the message was an urgent matter from Ruthven, did heallow it.

The snow was coming down hard, and there was the clunk of hail on the windows.Knowing it would not be wise to send the man off in dangerous weather, he sent him offto the servants’ hall and instructed for him to have a cot and a warm meal.

Traipsing up to his quarters, his wife met him on the top of the stairs, while tighteningher dressing robe. “Is everythin’ all right?”

Before answering, the Laird flipped the scroll over to see the seal and shook his head, “Icannae tell ye, Love, nae until I see what he needs.”

In their bed chamber, he popped the seal, unrolled the letter, and read quickly. Instantly,his heart seemed to expand two sizes, and his exclamation was both happy and mired indisbelief, “He found her, Grace, he found Elspeth!”

His wife nearly tumbled to the floor, but grabbed on a table and managed to get her feetunder her. Aidan rushed to her side and wrapped his arm around her, helping her to thebed, “What do ye need, Love?”

“Naything more than what I’ve just been given,” Grace said. “On the morrow, sleet orsnow, we are going to Ruthven.”

Before dawn, Freya was ready and waiting for Evan’s arrival. Her chest was a mess ofknots, and she could only drink the cup of ginger-root tea Missus Helga gave her, but wastoo unsettled to eat anything.

When he arrived, she was on her feet instantly. His feet crunching the snow had a suddenyearning flaring up on her. As he came through the door, Freya found herself in his arms,where she wanted to be.

“Daenae worry, Love,” he murmured in her ear. “Everything will be well.”

“Truly?” she asked.

“Truly,” Evan kissed her cheek. “Miss Helga, thank ye from the bottom of me heart.”

“T’was me pleasure, Me Laird,” Missus Helga smiled.

Saying her final goodbyes to the older woman, Evan led Freya from the humble cottageand into the carriage. Evan’s hand did not leave hers as they took the journey back to hiscastle.

“I havenae told anyone but yer parents that I found ye,” Evan said, “Ye have beenmissing for over a sennight. Elspeth is still masquerading as ye, but this ends today, Ipromise ye.”

“How?” Freya asked.

“I’m going to expose her, publicly,” Evan replied, a bit harshly, “She needs to learn alesson. If she cannae see the error of her ways after this, I dinnae ken if she can besaved. I ken, Love, I truly do, but after all, she’s done to ye, dinnae ye see it fitting forher to pay for her deeds?”

Freya nibbled her lip, “Evan…” she sighed, “just promise me ye’ll nay hurt her.”

“I willnae lay a hand on her,” Evan said, “I swear it to ye. But what her Faither will do toher, that I cannae control.”

Her head darted up. “Laird Aidan and Lady Grace are going to be there?”

“Aye,” Evan said, “I kent ‘tis nay kind or Christian, but she nearly killed ye, Love, and Idinnae take lightly to people who harm those I love. Tis nay an eye for an eye as I firstfelt—this is justice, duly served.”

W

2 8

hen they arrived at the castle, Freya felt the overcast sky was a horrible omenthat not all that they had planned was going to go right. Mounds of snow wereshoveled from the doorway, and the dark stone walls had a permanent wet

look from the constant snowfall, but the relief Freya thought she would feel at seeing it,was absent—all she felt was fear. What they were about to do would rip her apart, andshe knew it.

Evan’s right, though, Elspeth needs to feel the pain she’s wreaking on others.

The carriage stopped, but she did not move until Evan opened the door and stepped out.She followed with a conflicted heart, as he took her inside the castle’s front room and upthe stairs to the room she once had.

Kissing her, Evan said, “I’ll come for ye when yer parents arrive. Dinnae fash yerself,Love, it will be all right.”

“I trust ye,” Freya whispered to him with a tiny smile.

When the door closed behind her, she went to the window to look out. She was notprepared for this, nor did she think she would ever be, but they had to cut this out at theroot. Her window faced the backlands so that she couldn’t see the approaching carriage,but she prayed—probably pointlessly—for time to stretch out.

But the knock on the door—sooner than wanted—had Freya sucking in a deep breath tosteady her nerves. Evan looked at her and sighed. He enveloped her in a warm,comforting, embrace.

“Naythin’ bad will happen to ye,” he whispered.

She shook her head, “I still fear how she will retaliate.”

“If all goes well, she will nay have any way to do so,” Evan said, taking her hand andleading her out the door.

Following him, Freya found herself in a corridor she had never been to, and toward aroom, she didn’t know. Halfway to where Evan was leading her to, he stopped and told amaid to take “Freya” to his meeting room, and then, they were off again.

When she approached, she heard her parent’s voices, and when Evan pushed the door in,they stopped. Lady Grace was on her feet, about to rush and hug her, but stopped short.

Her eyes, mired with confusion, darted between Freya and Evan before she uttered.“Freya? I daenae understand.”

“Ye will,” Evan said, “soon.”

As he helped Freya to sit, the door was pushed open, and Elspeth’s bubbly exclamationof, “About time ye showed me yer…Maither!”

Freya tensed when her parent’s eyes flew to her and then to Elspeth, disguised as her.Laird Aidan’s face darkened, “What the bloody hell is going on here?”

Elspeth turned to run, but Evan blocked the door. She spun, face bloodless, and fingers

grabbed at her chest. Her eyes landed on Freya, and blood flew back to her face,rendering it scarlet. “Ye!”

Freya flinched as Elspeth spat, “Ye couldnae stay dead, could ye? Ye just had to comeback to ruin me life—again. After ye humiliated me and ripped me life away from me.”

“Elspeth!” Lady Grace cried in horror. “That’s ye?”

But Elspeth did not mind her mother; instead, she advanced to Freya, “Couldnae ye justleave well alone! Couldnae ye just understand that ye were not fit to marry LairdRuthven? Couldnae ye have stayed dead when me driver flung ye over the cliff!”

Lady Grace collapsed where she stood, and Laird Aidan reacted quickly, he kneeled tohold her and cradle her to his chest. In a fit of rage, Elspeth swiped her face, renderingher cheeks streaked with the red dye. “Why did ye have to come back! Why?”

“Did ye throw Freya into the loch?” Laird Lobhdain pressed.

“Aye,” Elspeth scowled. “I should have had me driver throw her on the rocks instead.”

The Laird's eyes were wet with tears, “How could ye…ye’re nay the daughter I ken. Yecannae be so wicked.”

“Sadly, she is,” Evan interjected. “How long did ye ken ye would carry this charade onand nay ken it would be found out?”

Elspeth did not seem to be listening; her body was vibrating like a plucked fiddle’s string.Her face went from rosy to bloodless, and Freya felt that she was going to explode. LadyGrace was sobbing in a corner, and Freya kept her eyes down on her lap, with hershoulders hunched.

I ken this would go wrong.

Laird Aiden stood, his face thunderous. “Elspeth, ye have shamed me, ye have disgraceyer Maither, and ye degraded yerself. Ye have committed a crime against ye own sister.How could ye try to kill her! We just gained her back after twenty years of believing shewas dead, and now ye have conspired to take her away from us again! How could ye?”

Elspeth had the presence of mind to hang her head, at her father’s tirade and castigation,but Freya hardly thought she was sorry. As with all Elspeth ever did, it was just a show.

“I suggest, Laird Aidan,” Evan spoke, drawing Freya’s eyes up from her lap, “That ye takeMiss Milleson home and deal with her at yer discretion. I dinnae take her acts lightly, andif it were me, I’d have her locked in me dungeon.”

So, nay drawn and quartered as ye had said.

“Dinnae ye worry,” Laird Aidan said to Evan while his eyes were on Elspeth. “She will bepunished.”

“And teach her the value of fidelity in marriage,” Evan said as he crossed the floor toFreya, helped her to stand, and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Ye have quite aseductress on yer hands. Happily, I saw through her disguise before she got any further.”

Lady Grace was thoroughly distraught. Her wide eyes held an expression of unendinggrief. Her tone was broken, but her words were strict, “Elspeth, I cannae believe ye’vedone this. I kent ye was immature to marry, now I am certain. How could ye try toseduce Freya’s husband?”

“They’re nay married,” Elspeth tossed her head, “yet.”

“Doesnae matter,” Lady Grace overrode her. “There is a sanctity to marriage, and if ye

cannae respect anyone’s else, ye cannae respect any on yer own. I kent I raised ye with asense of remorse, but I was wrong. Ye need to apologize to Freya, now!”

“What?” Elspeth exclaimed. “She should be apologizing to me for stealing what wasmine.”

“Wrong,” Laird Aidan interjected, “ye lost Laird Ruthven with yer horrible accusationstoward his maid. Ye are at fault here, and yer Maither is right. Ye will apologize to Freya.”

Elspeth tilted her head up, crossed her arms, and sniffed, “I will nae.”

“I dinnae believe yer Maither was requesting ye to apologize,” Laird Aidan said stonily.“She was ordering ye to apologize.”

Freya had enough; this was not going anywhere, and Elspeth was not going to yield.There was nothing this standoff would provide, nothing but more heartbreak. She went toher birth mother and rested a hand on her shoulder, placing herself between the olderwoman and Elspeth.

“It’s all right, Lady Grace, I daenae need her apology. She isnae going to give oneanyway. I kent it best for ye to take her home.”

Evan came up and claimed her, resting a hand on the small of her back. “I’ll send yermeal up to yer quarters; there’s nay need for ye to go to the Great Hall.”

Lady Grace paused to hug Freya tightly, before her husband took Elspeth by the crook ofher arm.

“Freya, if she willnae say it, I will,” Laird Aidan said, while Elspeth looked awaystubbornly. “There is nay excuse for what she did to ye. None whatsoever, be assuredthat she will be punished for her actions. I am so grateful that ye are alive and well, and I

ken Evan will keep it that way.”

“To me dyin’ breath,” Evan vowed.

When the door closed behind them, Freya sank to the nearest seat and covered her facewith her hands. Evan placed another one beside her and reaching out, took her handsfrom her face. “I told ye naythin’ bad would happen.”

“Ye did,” Freya said, then sighed. “But why do I feel it’s nay over?”

Satisfied with the new sheets placed on the bed, Evan nodded and thanked the maids.Never would he allow Freya to sleep on the same sheets her traitorous sister had. Afterthe meeting, Freya had taken refuge with his mother, in her room, while the Millesons ateand readied for their trip back home. Lady Lobhdain was tearful when she hugged Freyagoodbye, and when they left, she found herself back there.

Evan did not know what the Laird and his wife were planning to punish Elspeth with, andhe did not care. As long as they kept her far away and out of his life, he was fine. It stillstunned him how deceitful, cunning, and selfish Elspeth was, but he had more thanenough reason to suspect she could be. What he had not expected was her trying to killher sister.

At least, we’ll have peace this Yuletide.

Plucking up an eider-down pillow, he pictured Freya, laying with him again, passion anddesire reflected in those deep, emerald pools. He ached to touch her again, to feel thewarm affection and love he knew she had for him, but Evan knew she was fragile at themoment.

Dropping the pillow, he left to his mother’s room, and found Freya seated on the floor, byhis mother’s bedside, listening intently to her story. After listening in for a moment, he

laughed—it was a tale of him twenty-one years ago, on Yuletide; how his five-year-oldself had eaten enough black-pudding and drank enough mead to be sick at First Footing,and wasn’t able to visit family, friends or play any games.

“And to make things worse,” his mother said. “On Bannock Night, instead of going tosleep, he stayed awake, staring at the Yule cakes to make sure no one was going to stealand dropped asleep, rolled over and slapped it off his nightstand. He burst into hysterics,keening the cake was crushed, and he would be cursed with bad luck for the rest o’ theyear.”

“All right, all right,” Evan cut in, “Enough fun on me part. May I steal me wife away forthe rest of the day?”

Freya stood and kissed his mother on her cheek, “I’ll be back to see ye on the morrow.”

His mother turned a searching look on him then back to her, “I doubt it, lass. From theway me Son’s face is set, ye might nay be seeing me for a while.”

Red bloomed on Freya’s cheeks, while Evan pulled her away, back to their room andclosed the door behind them. Bending his head, he captured her soft lips fiercely with hisown. His arms wrapped tightly about her waist while hers looped around his neck in atimeless embrace. They kissed, warmed by the light of the fire.

Resting his forehead on her temple, Evan whispered. “I love ye, more than life itself.”

“Ye are me life,” Freya responded.

His hand smoothed over her hip, and his voice dipped to sultry. How are ye feeling? Hurt?I ken today was taskin’ for ye.”

Freya leaned into his hold, “ T’was, but I want to put it behind me now. I’ve run meself

ragged over Elspeth, and I dinnae want to do it anymore,” her eyes blinked open, with aheat Evan had not anticipated. “Now, I only want ye, Evan.”

“Freya, Love, are ye sure?”

She nodded, “I am. Arenae ye?”

“I’d love naythin’ more,” Evan replied, lifting his hands to cup her face, “‘Tis been on memind from the time I carried ye back home.”

Not moving his eyes from hers, to watch if she would change her mind, Evan disrobed herslowly, peeling every stitch from her body and, after a blistering kiss, laid her on the bedbefore joining her.

Lit by the firelight, Evan showed his love to her slowly, murmuring loving endearments inher ear, kissing her plumps lips and showering her body with kisses. Freya gently ran herhands over his body, every inch precious to her, to topple over into the warm sea ofcompletion. Afterward, when she drifted off to sleep, Evan placed her right over his heart,comforted by the steady feel of her breath on his skin.

Now that danger has passed, naythin’ will harm us now.

A

2 9

s time crept toward Yuletide, Freya immersed herself in preparing for the season.When the piles of evergreen boughs were brought in, she helped to put them onevery wall, lintel, and staircase. She assisted in the kitchen, baking the oat-

bannock bread, soft cakes, and pannich perm, before darting up to attend to his mother’sknees and then to the healing hall to help there.

Evan loved that she was busy, and had put the distress about Elspeth behind her. Whathe loved most was spending the nights with her in his arms, even without coupling, hewas content to have her in his bed. But then, two nights before Yuletide, some troublingnews came. It was sometime in the early morning, and he felt the cold night air envelophim when he pulled the door open.

“Aye?” he asked the servant. “What is it?”

“Fisherfolk from the Lossiemouth River are here, Me Laird,” the man said hurriedly. “Firedestroyed a row of cottages where they stored their fishing materials, Sir, and they sayeverything is a blackened mess.”

Perplexed about it, Evan gave the order for them to have something warm to eat andblankets for them to rest on, promising to see to it at dawn.

At daybreak, as he had promised, Evan went to speak with the troubled people, who, likehim, were at a loss as to how a fire could have started in the middle of winter, on asnowy night, no less. One man gave them the answer.

“It makes sense because I smelled oil on the charred boards. Someone set that fire, t’wasnay a sudden strike of lightnin’.”

“And that raises the question, who would do such a thing?” Another person voiced theirgrievance. “And as far as I ken, nay raiders are roaming the borders.”

To Evan’s shock, Miss Helga’s grandson was in the mix, and after Evan gave him hisheartfelt thanks, the young man offered to show him where the ruins were.

Riding back to the castle, three long hours after he had left, Evan could not dispel theblackened husks that the huts were, or the soot-filled snow, with some clumps that stillclung to his boots. He had managed to assure them that he would cover all theirmaterials to rebuild.

He rode back home, confused. Who would do such a thing? At home, he found Freya inthe room, about to take a bath as she was splattered with flour.

“May I join ye?”

She laughed, “Like I could stop ye?”

Evan nearly ripped his clothes off and followed her into the bath tub, sinking into thewarm water with a sigh of relief. His arms encircled her, instinctively drawing her close,and resting his chin on her shoulder. He reached for one of the washing cloths and, afterdipping it in the water, gently bathed her slender body.

“Last night, a part of the Lossiemouth village where ye were found, was burned.”

Freya twisted her head to peer at him with a delicately crinkled brow, “Do ye ken who did

it?”

“Nay,” Evan said. “I just hope this is an one-time thing.”

He was wrong. Every day after that, something horrible happened; a storehouse of wheatwent aflame, stones were stuffed into a well, blocking the people from drawing water,and the other well that they did draw water from, rendered a child and older womangrievously ill. They found that the water had been poisoned. A day after that, a wholebarn was filled with butchered cattle.

Evan was at his wits' end, trying to figure out what was going on. What he did know wasthat the incidents were creeping closer, village by village, closer to his castle. Freya wasbusy as well, with the full healing hall of poisoned people, and when she did come to bed—as there were nights that she tended to sleep in the hall—her body resting on his wasthe only comfort Evan had as he spent sleepless nights.

On Oath’s Night, the last night of Yuletide, Evan went to the Great Hall with dread fillinghis chest for what catastrophe would happen next. A bard was recounting the legendarybattle between the young Oak King and the Holly King in the middle of the hall, whileEvan waited for Freya to join him.

It was a long day, and he knew she would be resting before joining him. That was allright; they had a longer night before them. That was when his eye caught sight ofsomething—or rather someone.

Elspeth’s old maid—the one she had sent off, slipping through the door to the kitchens.What was she doing there, and how had she slipped through the increased number ofguards he had placed all around the property without notice?

Dropping his goblet, Evan left the dais and followed her, silently cursing himself that hehad not ordered his guards to look out for her. He pushed into the kitchen’s long hall andspotted the back door, one used by the servants, swinging in the night breeze.

He ran out into the cold, snowy night and spotted the woman running toward the eastcurtain wall where he knew a gate led out into a road used to carry wood and coal intothe castle.

“Halt!” Evan shouted, but that only made the woman run harder.

Swearing, Evan took off into a spring, a dangerous thing because of the wet snow underhis feet, but managed to catch up with the woman, only because she had slipped a fewtimes and had lost momentum. Just as she was going to move through the gate, hethrew himself at her and tackled her to the ground.

Angrily, she cried out and began to thrash, the nails of her right hand slashing a cut justbeneath his left eye. Incensed, Evan grabbed both of her hands and pinned them to theground. A drop of blood fell to the snow beside her head, but he did not care about hisinjury.

“What the deuce are ye doing here?” he ordered.

Just as he expected her not to answer, she smiled nastily, “I came to deliver a present toyer Maither on behalf of me mistress.”

“Me Maither?” Evan growled. “What did ye do to her?”

“It’s been nearly half an hour now since I carried her soup to her,” the maid said nastily.“She should be dead by now.”

Alarmed, Evan darted to his feet but dragged the woman up with him and shouted forhelp. As a guard came around the corner, he shoved the maid into his hands and turned,only to hear the maid call a cruel taunt at his back, “It’s one or the other, Me Laird, whoare ye going to save?”

One or the other… Freya!

Running full tilt, he blasted into the castle, darted through the Great Hall, took the stairsthree at a time, and rushed to his mother’s door. Without pause, he kicked the door open,and rushed to his mother’s bedside, only to lurch back. The shards of the pewter bowl atthe side of the bed, had panic seizing him in a vice grip. He reached for his insensatemother and tried to wake her.

“Maither! Maither!” he called desperately. “Wake up.”

With no reaction from her, Evan’s instant thought was to rush her to the healing hall—andthen his mind flew on Freya! One, or the other. His heart was ripped apart, bisected downthe middle.

He could not stand to lose his mother, and his love in one fell swoop if he did not actquickly. Leaning down to her face, he heard shallow breaths coming from his mother'snose—she was alive, if only barely. Elated with that, Evan could not stop his heart frompumping, as his mind was screaming for him to run.

Run to Freya!

He had to chance it.

And run he did, “Watch her!” he shouted while tearing through the corridors, jumpingthree stairs at a time to dash to the hall. As he raced up the stairs, he saw the glint of abutchering knife arching down into Freya’s unsuspecting chest and threw himself atElspeth.

“Let me go, ye bastard!” she seethed as they both fell to the floor. “She daenae deserveto live!”

Freya darted from her bed and screamed, “Help! Help! Someone!”

“Wrong,” Evan spat to Elspeth as he got her thrashing body under submission. “‘Tis yewho doesnae deserve to live. After ye nearly sentenced yer sister to death by throwingher into the loch, and poisoning me Maither, ye are the one who will be facing it. An eyefor an eye.”

The room was dissolving into pandemonium, with guardsmen rushing in and the healingwomen streaming into the room, bearing candles and lit torches. He heard someoneshouting for help for his mother, screaming that the Lady of the castle was ill to the pointof death. The mention of his poisoned mother had fury etching up another notch in Evan’sheart.

“If me Maither dies, nothing is stopping me from hanging ye,” Evan growled to Elspeth.

The blinding rage was pounding in his head, but the fury still rested in his heart. His fistsclenched Elspeth’s wrists so tightly, she winced, but he did not care. Evan did not moveoff from her even as the sounds of boots were heard behind him. Assuming guards werethere, he began to lift himself.

When they came, grabbing her by both arms, Freya grabbed at Evan’s side, sobbing.

“Take her and her thrice-damned maid to the dungeon,” Evan ordered.

As she was shoved off, Evan wrapped his arm around Freya. He shifted to kiss hertemple. He then called for the healing women, “Do whatever ye can to save me Maither’slife.”

Freya was a trembling mass in his hands, and her fingers clutched as him, “How did sheget in?”

“I daenae ken,” Evan said, and with a strong arm encircled her waist. Freya straightenedup under his touch, and she lifted her trembling chin bravely. Evan shifted his head tolook at the woman, the one who his heart, who was his heart, and then turned awaywhile his grip tightened, “But, I will bloody well find out.”

W

E P I L O G U E

hen Laird and Lady Lobhdain were summoned the next day, both were equallyrelieved and disgusted by Elspeth’s actions. When Freya had asked why, theytold her that they were relieved that Elspeth was alive, because she had gone

missing the third day of Yuletide. The Laird had scoured the countryside, day and nightfor her, but had not in the least expected that she would go back to Ruthven.

When Evan had called her into the room to hear Elspeth’s confession, she had admittedthat the numerous misfortunes—the fires, well poisoning, and cattle slaughter—that hadbeset Evan’s people were all planned out.

“Because I wanted to hurt ye like ye hurt me,” Elspeth had spat cruelly. “Ye kent I’d behere with healers for so long and nae ask a thing or two? Once I got the herbs I need, itwas so easy.”

Nervously, Freya had looked to Evan, noting that though furious, Evan had held back hisrage before he asked the most crucial question, “How did ye get back into me castle?”

“Misdirection,” Elspeth had spat. “I got a horse to run past the guards at the curtain wallgate, they ran after it, and I slipped in. I sent me maid to poison yer Maither becausethat would have hurt ye deeply, and then when Freya was dead, ye’d be destroyed—like Iwas when ye broke off the engagement,” she ended harshly.

Cold fury encased Evan’s chest. He’d then turned to Laird Lobhdain, who was beside him,“Attempted murder, conspiracy, poisoning, arson, betrayal…is there anything I am

forgetin’, Laird Lobhdain? Is there anything that can save her from being hanged?”

A flash of pain crossed the man’s face, “I kent she’s done some horrible deedsSaunderson, but I ken of a worse fate for her than death…” he turned to Elspeth, “exile.”

“It’s all in yer hands, Laird Lobhdain,” Evan had replied, “Now if ye’ll excuse me, Misterand Mister Crushom will be arriving soon. They’ve heard the worst of it, and now it’s timefor us to tell them the best of it.”

That was when he led Freya—a thoroughly sickened Freya—out of the room and into theirbed chamber so she could cry out her pain on his shoulder. When they did meet heradoptive parents, Caitlin had taken one look at her daughter and embraced her tightly.

That First Footing had been a horrible day; one Freya was determined to put at the backof her mind as the days and weeks that passed away. For five months, Freya hadwatched the land change from a frozen wasteland into the warm, green, fragrant land itwas in April.

She saw the little things; the thin shoot of green poking out of the melting snow, the tinychirp of morning birds, the cracking ice on the streams and lochs, all that told her thatreal spring had come at last.

The ill-fated Jacobites had come back to Scotland, resolute on restoring the Catholic Kingto his throne, but were denied—again. The Duke of Cumberland had blown the troops tosmithereens with English cannons, on a flat moor outside Inverness, nary a week beforeher wedding. Before the battle, the Clan had lived under the constant fear of being undersiege, but now their worries were rendered moot.

The day finally came, and Freya was gazing out at the countryside, filled with vibrant,ruby, orange, and cobalt flowers, blanketing the hills. A smile played on her lips as hermind went to last night. She was not sure if Evan had recovered from his blackening, butshe laughed at the memory.

They had been having the first meal in the Great Hall when five men, along with her birthfather Laird Lobhdain and her adopted one, Balthair Crushom, had come in, and wrestledEvan out of his seat, sticking a sack on his head and carting him off like chattel.

I wonder if he’ll laugh or scowl when I bring it back up again.

Freya had not escaped either the pre-wedding traditions either, as the women had takenher for her foot washing. She turned around and spotted the wedding dress, a simple butelegant, square-necked emerald dress, and over it was a tartan sash of Evan’s clan. Newshad reached them about the ban of clan’s plaids and kilts, but Freya was not going to bewed without a mark of her husband’s clan on her.

“Nay nervous, are ye?” Lady Grace said as she came in with a tray of pie slices on it.

“I am,” Freya said, pulling away from the window. “Only a little, though.”

“Ye have naythin’ to worry about,” Lady Grace took Freya’s hands, “Evan loves ye downto the ground ye walk on.”

“I ken,” Freya nodded. “It's just…I wished it could be happier.”

Lady Grace’s eyes tightened at the indirect inference to Elspeth, her disgraced sister. Thatnight she had tried to kill Freya, Evan had been all for sending her to hang, but Freya hadtalked him out of that sentence. Her crimes did merit execution, but he had relented andsent her off with her parents, letting them decide her fate.

Elspeth, however, had taken it into her hand and left in the dead of night. Her co-accused, her maid and driver, had been caught at the border of Scotland and England,running to save their lives, not too long after. The woman committed suicide, and thedriver was sent off to labor in the mines. The last Lady Grace had heard of her daughterwas that she’d become a servant in a lowland clan, feeding pigs. They could have calledher back home, but decided to let it be—she had made her bed.

Freya forced a laugh, “Have ye seen Evan? Has he recovered?”

“I believe so,” her mother smiled as the uncomfortable moment passed. “He’s lucky theydinnae creel him.”

Wincing at the image of her husband-to-be walking around the village with a large basketfilled with heavy stones on his head, Freya giggled, “They wouldnae dare.”

“Ye dinnae ken yer Faither too well,” Lady Grace smiled. “He can be a real task masterwhen he wants to be. But on happier news, the kirk at Cillock is prepared, and so are thepeople there.”

Freya looked around. “I suppose we should get ready then?”

“For the first day of a happier life,” Lady Grace looked around. “I ken we should.”

In retrospect, Freya should have expected a royal welcome. The road to her village’s kirkwas lined with every man, woman, and child in the village, and they were all cheering.She felt the need to shrink away, but felt, deep within herself, she would be shamingherself and Evan. After all, they’d been through, and what tests of being the Lady of ClanRuthven that would come, she better started being bold.

She arrived at the little kirk, covered with spring heather and white water-lilies—similarto the ones in her hair—with her mother beside her in the carriage. Her mother went outfirst and helped her out. The moment her feet touched the ground, excited cries camefrom the people around her.

Evan, clad in his clan’s plaid, stood tall and handsome against the bland gray stones ofthe kirk. Laird Aiden was beside him, dressed similarly to her husband-to-be. Theyviolated the orders from the Crown, but Freya had learned quickly enough thatHighlanders had their laws and codes—and marriage meant clan colors.

He reached out and took her hand, lifting it to his mouth for a soft kiss. “Ye are radiant,mo chridhe.”

Freya softly pulled her hand away and brushed her knuckle over his cheek, “Have I evertold ye how handsome ye are?”

“Nay,” he laughed while taking her hand and leading her inside, “but I’d like to hear itmore.”

Instantly, her eyes landed in her adopted parents, her father in his old clan plaid, and hermother tearing up into a tiny handkerchief. But what brought tears to Freya’s eyes, wasold Missus Beathag, sitting there, with a knowing smile on her face. Freya broke free fromEvan and went to embrace her, tightly.

In her ear, Freya whispered, “Ye were right. Thank ye.”

“T’wasnae me, Dear,” Missus Beathag whispered back. “I only tell what the spirits tellme.”

Stunned, Freya pulled away. Spirits? What spirits? Did that mean the woman was a druid?

Seeing Freya’s amazement, and confusion, Missus Beathag only winked mysteriously. “Yehusband is waiting, Dear.”

“Aye,” Freya replied, then with another grateful smile, went to join Evan.

Father Malcolm, the village’s preacher, dipped his gray hair to her, then faced the rest.“Welcome Laird and Lady Lobhdain, Mister and Missus Crushom and Missus Beathag ashonored witnesses. We are gathered here today to join two families into one. Me Laird,

and Miss Crushom, please kneel.”

Though their room was three flights over the Great Hall, Freya could still hear thecarousing the wedding guests were indulging in below. Not too soon after the ceremony,Evan had whisked her back to the castle, where the celebratory feast was already inmotion, past the feast, and into their chambers.

While passing, Freya had expected that the feast would be incredible, but she had notbeen prepared for the massive amounts of food she saw. Mountains of fruit, piles ofroasted beef and deer meat, innumerable quantities of bread loaves, and wine flowing asif a river of it was nearby. She had barely gotten a chance to snag a peach before Evanushered her to the bed chamber.

Now, after a bath of warmed water and rose oil, she was in their bed, in a flimsy shift,and admiring the gold band on her finger.

Who would have kent I will be married, much less than I am now Lady Ruthven.

“If ye want one studded with jewels, I can easily arrange for one,” Evan said as he cameforward, clad in his dressing robe and handing her a goblet.

“Nay,” Freya said, taking the goblet and sipping the sweet mead. “This is quite enough.”

He slid into the bed and took her right hand, “Has it sunk in that ye’re now me wife?”

“I daenae ken it has,” Freya said, “And it probably won’t for a few years.”

“Why a few years?”

Freya shrugged before setting the goblet down and reaching for the peach, “I can be off,but I ken that might be when I have ye first bairn.”

Freya bit into her peach, and made a soft gasp at how ripe and sweet the fruit was. Itsdelicious juices escaped the seal of her mouth and dribbled down her chin. Evan wassuddenly there, catching the droplet with his tongue. The touch had her shivering fromhead to toe, and the peach tumbled from her hand.

“Sweet,” Evan murmured.

His hand slid the tails of her shift up her shin, and the touch of his rough palm hadpleasure spiking into her body already. She slid to her back and lifted her bottom so hecould push the shift up. As she sat up, he tugged it off her completely.

Bare, she watched as he stepped off the bed and pulled the robe away, with his goldeneyes never leaving hers. His body was magnificent. She watched the play of ripplingmuscles across the broad span of his shoulders, dipping to his chest, and ridged stomach.If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought he was carved from a slab of marble. Everysculpted inch of his body showed his power, strength, and virility.

Tantalizingly, he plucked the peach from the sheets and bit into it, swiping a trail of itsjuices from his chin. “Hmm.”

Resting the fruit on the nightstand, he joined her on the bed, laying on his back butreached out and tugged her to rest on him. With her knee resting on his thigh, he kissedher soft at first, but soon his kisses seared through her like wildfire.

His hands weren’t idle either as they fanned the flame, teasing, and stroking her skinuntil warmth was a constant sensation under her skin. He hauled her up and sucked oneof her nipples into his mouth. Gasping, Freya was not sure she could hold her balancemuch longer, but then he spun them, so she was under him.

As her back met the bed, he slipped from her breast to kiss her midriff and her quiveringbelly. His tongue dipped into her belly button, teasing her. Mired in the sensations goingwild in her body, Freya was half aware of when he propped her knees up, and his tonguefound the bud of her desire.

Alarmed, Freya tried to pull away from him, but instead, her hands slid into his hair,thrilled at this new sensation. She moaned with wild delight, arching her back and gave into the powerful waves of passion that coursed through her body. He suckled her as hewould the peach, and when he teased her bud with his tongue, she cried out again.

“Evan,” she keened, gripping his hair, “please.”

“Please what, love?” Evan asked while mouthing the silky skin of her inner thighs.

Before she could muster the strength to speak, his fingers slid into the moist core of her,while lifted, his mouth, hot and insistent, suckled hungrily at her breast. She felt himshift, and she peeled her eyes open to see him bracing himself on his left elbow, andgazing at her with wonder.

She reached up to cup his jaw, and he turned to kiss her palm, “Please, love me.”

He sucked a finger in his mouth and suckled hard, reigniting the passion that hadmomentarily dulled. A heady combination of want and need flowed through her as hemoved closer, settling in the middle of her legs, and she was able to slide her armsaround his waist.

Her blood was racing through her body. She wanted to feel again that pleasure Evan hadonce shown her. To experience feeling her body throb with exquisite pleasure, feel herblood to sing, and her mind to tip into an idyllic abyss. She wanted him inside her.

Evan sensed it. He dipped his head to kiss her while propping her leg on his hip. His eyeswere heavy with lust, but his motions were slow and sensual as he slid inside her, filling

her. Evan’s lips hardly moved from hers as their body became one. Sporadically, did hislips move from hers to suckle kisses on her neck and collarbone, but he always returnedto take her mouth.

The hardness of his body sliding over her, the raw but gentle power he exuded,overwhelmed her senses and made her thoughts, those not enveloped by scintillating lustspin. Her heart raced, and her body responded to her husband, heat pooling in her bellyand tightening her core as he moved with her.

“Ye’re the blood in me veins,” he whispered in her ear.

Feeling the slow tide of her arousal begin to mount, she slid her arm around his powerfulback, holding on to him while the other sank into his hair.

The burning sensation possessed her entirely as his pace sped up, and he plungedhimself into the welcome of her body. The flood overtook her, and she cried out his namein pure ecstasy with her legs gripping him tightly, as he thrust deep within her to the hiltof his manhood, racing together to that apex of desire.

When her climax took her over into a sea of warm bliss, his release came as soon as hersdid, and for a moment, they stayed as one, panting, and breathless. For one blindingwhite, golden, eternal moment, time had stopped, and the world paused spinning.

Evan softly pulled away only to cradle her in his arms and rest her on his chest. “Tha gaolagam ort.”

“I do as well, a ghrà mo chroì,” Freya whispered. “Forever.”

The End?

E X T E ND E D E P I L O G U E

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P R E V I E W: T H E H I G H L A N D E R ’ SA L L U R I N G S P Y

T

1THE MEETING

here was no male heir to the Elfinstone Estate. Lady Magnolia Winterbourne,daughter of the Earl, was more acutely aware of this with every passing day. Shehad never married and never birthed children, and at six-and-twenty, the

marriageable age had likely passed.

Magnolia had no male cousins, no brothers, no nephews–nobody to take the burden fromher shoulders. Magnolia felt the pressure of the heirship more heavily than any boy in herposition would. Though she would not change her service and loyalty to the Crown foranything, she had to concede to a certain amount of pressure to prove herself.

That was why she was struggling not to snap at her coach driver to hurry as the cabtrundled along the road at a snail’s pace.

She must reach the meeting hall, and soon, or it would be disastrous for the reputation ofElfinstone and the Winterbourne name. The sun seemed to be speeding across the sky,each passing minute, admonishing her as it reached its peak.

I cannot believe that this would happen today of all days! Can’t this carriage go anyfaster?

It was no fault of the driver that she was late, but her own; she had been waylaid in hervisit to her childhood friend and her new son. Magnolia had known that the meeting wasat noon, but she’d foolishly let cooing over the babe take up most of her morning, andnow she was going to be late.

“Timothy, is there any way–?”

“The ol’ mares are trotting as fast as they can, My Lady,” Tim assured her. “We’ll make it,dinnae ye worry. Trust me.”

She’d known Tim, a Scottish transplant who held firmly onto his accent, since she wasborn. He’d been her mother’s favorite driver, and now he was Magnolia’s, too. She didtrust him, but Magnolia worried anyway.

She should never have been invited to this meeting at all. Her father’s reputation wasalready on the ropes thanks to his insistence on her induction into the Order. Yes, she’dproven herself finely, but this was a step up. A secret meeting, even within their secretsociety!

I cannot believe that I would be invited to such a thing. Father claims it was theMarquess’ idea rather than his own, too!

Magnolia had served in many roles since the death of her mother. She was a member ofthe Order, a dutiful daughter, and now the acting Countess. Some might say it was toomuch for a young maiden like her. Many did speak so, in not-so-subtle whispers behindher back.

Let them whisper, though.

Magnolia did not care for their whispers, just as her mother had always taught.

They may say what they will, out of jealousy or suspicion, but it does not change who Iam or what I am doing. My wish is to make my Father proud and show my loyalty to theCrown and my Country. Nothing more.

Now, if only the horses could go faster…

Daniel Winterbourne had sported the title of Earl of Elfinstone for four-and-thirty years,ever since his fifteenth birthday. Since that day, he had served as one of the Crown’smost loyal servants, taking pride in his rank and his heritage in a way that benefited hisstation most greatly. The Winterbourne name was discussed in the courts with highesteem.

Lord Winterbourne’s services were more profound than merely land ownership and nobleduties. Though few knew of it, and those who did rarely spoke of it, he was a criticalmember of the Royal Order of the Red Blossom. His duties encapsulated many covertmissions, but he was especially well-known for his work against the threat of the Scots.

The realm existed in a time of peace now, but Daniel had seen too much war to evertruly relax. The Scots and the English, when they attacked one another, were merciless.

It is an ugly thing. I pray from my heart, and in the name of my late wife that I shouldnever see such a conflict again. I hope to God it is avoidable.

He had given everything to the Crown, risking life and limb, and love, too. For hissacrifices, he had returned with more successful missions than any other member of theOrder. It was the central pride of his heart, and he would not change it for the world.

His work had not come without great personal cost, however. As was his duty, he married

at the age of sixteen to the daughter of a local Lord. The girl was a few years older thanhim, and while it was not a love match, he had grown to love her deeply.

The esteemed Lady Eleanor, Countess of Elfinstone, had been a wife as beautiful as shewas dutiful. Though the two knew nothing of each other, they became fast friends.

I still do not know who was more nervous: Eleanor or me. Neither of us had so much ascourted another before, and here we were, expected to be married! But married we werenonetheless, and we found happiness. Love. Many cannot say the same.

When Daniel joined the Order, he had trusted in Eleanor when he had no otherconfidante. She had steadfastly kept his secrets and smoothed the running of the estatein his absence. She was a delicate woman, though, and as the years passed withoutchildren, and his absences grew longer, whispers started at court.

And how they loved their whispers. They have not changed. They would claim she wasbarren. That I was uninterested in my wife. That we were cursed. They said all sorts,didn’t they, Eleanor?

It was a way he often spent his spare time; talking to his beloved late wife in his mind.He knew she could hear him. Sometimes, he even imagined her responses.

Eleanor had responded then and would respond now in the same way. “Let them whisperif they will. Why should we waste our care on what they have to say? At least this meansthey find us interesting compared to their lives of boredom.”

Daniel was nineteen when his son was born, but the boy passed a day later before heeven had a chance to be named. Eleanor was devastated but determined to provide herhusband with an heir.

She became pregnant thrice more over the following years before she was able to carry achild to term. Daniel had not known of her last pregnancy until he returned from amission, aged twenty-three, to find a six-month-old daughter waiting for him.

Daniel paced back and forth, remembering the moment he’d seen the baby for the firsttime. His heart had shattered into a million pieces that had reformed into an organ thatbeat only for her.

He smiled. His daughter, their daughter, had grown much since then, lookingdevastatingly like Eleanor.

You’d be so proud of her, and what she has grown to accomplish, he assured his wife.

Eleanor survived their daughter’s birth, but it became apparent then that there would beno sons, as the doctors informed her that she could bear children no more.

It is every man’s wish to teach his son and heir, but though Daniel could not hide hisdisappointment, his heart was soon lost to this small replica of her blonde-haired, blue-

eyed mother. She was named Magnolia, for the gentle white blossoms Eleanor adored somuch, and she breathed new life into Elfinstone.

And everyone adored her right away. She was our daughter, but she was a gift to all ofus.

He loved his daughter dearly, but those first few years had been especially precious. Hethought of her little face and smiled.

The sweetest babe in the world. Pretty and quiet and perfect. I am so glad that, at least,you got to spend those moments with her. I am pleased that she has memories of you.

Magnolia had grown astute, kind, and as beautiful as her mother. She was a loyaldaughter, tending to her mother and obeying her father in every word. She loved fiercelyand had a quick wit about her that made her popular with the young men at socialevents, though she demurely turned each away.

At the age of fourteen, she confided in Daniel that she wished never to marry. Shocked,he had questioned her and been astounded by the shrewdness of her answer.

“Well, Father, it is quite simple. Why should I marry and allow some lesser noble to takeElfinstone from our name when the Winterbourne bloodline has sustained it and servedthe Crown for generations?”

Proud but troubled, Daniel had spoken with Eleanor, who promised to converse with theirdaughter on the topic. She did, though Daniel never heard the result–he was told that itwas a matter between women, not an Earl’s affair.

And you never did tell me what you told her, my darling. She continues to turn awaysuitors, even now. Six-and-twenty and she cares little for matters of marriage. She’s suchan unusual child.

Shortly after, Eleanor contracted scrofula while Daniel was once again away on service.Mercury treatment did not work as hoped, and young Magnolia had been the only onepresent at her mother’s death.

Daniel stopped in his reminiscing for a moment, the pain still lancing through him like afresh wound even all these years later. It felt like a physical hurt, making him flinchagainst it.

My Eleanor. Sometimes I still expect to come home and see your darling face. When Iwalk in to see your empty chair, my heart breaks all over again. But at least Magnolia isstrong. More robust than me, I think.

She had only been fifteen, just as young as Daniel had been at the demise of his ownfather. Magnolia had borne her grief as well as any son, even though her father was stillaway. She had gone so far as to take it upon herself to pen the letter that had broughthim the terrible news. She claimed that it was simply not right for anyone else to tell him.

When he returned, broken and lost and grieving, Magnolia told him that she would serveas Countess now and do her best to fulfill her mother’s responsibilities.

And she was quite determined, too. She was barely more than a child, but she slippedinto your role with ease, even in her state of mourning. I am the most blessed father inEngland.

Magnolia excelled in her education and in her duties. She learned by her father’s side,and her loyalty toward and knowledge of the workings of the Crown only grew. As shematured, she continued to turn away every suitor, and Daniel began to considersomething unheard of for a daughter. He argued much with his cohort about it, but herefused to back down.

Magnolia was placed under many tests of loyalty and ability without her knowledge. Shepassed every single one with ease, impressing everyone involved, and making her fathergratified beyond belief. She performed so well that, eventually, an agreement wasreached. At the age of eighteen, Magnolia Winterbourne was inducted into the RoyalOrder of the Red Blossom.

Her projects over almost nine years of service had been comparatively small. Still, shehad worked diligently and efficiently and gained the trust of the organization.

She was the first woman to do so, but she did not let that swell her sense of self-importance.

“Well, Father, I may be a woman, but I am your daughter and a servant of the Crownbefore that. Why, in the future, I believe that many women will be permitted to serve andhelp England to thrive,” she’d told him. Daniel had not thought of and still could not thinkof a single reason to refute her.

She knew of her many naysayers, but she simply ignored them. She was determined tofollow in the steps of her father and give everything she had to the country she loved.

Magnolia had been genuinely committed throughout her whole adult life, and Danielwanted to reward that. That was why he had now placed his reputation on the line. TheMarquess had first suggested her name, but Daniel had given everything to make surethe plan was followed through.

He had spoken against her many detractors to convince their leaders that Magnolia wasthe correct choice for the mission ahead. It was top secret, limited knowledge even withinthe Order. She was young, she was a woman, she had never been on such an importantmission before. All of this was true, but Daniel knew she would not fail.

I staked everything on it, my darling. But I would do it again–for her. For you. She is mydaughter, but she does you credit most of all. Not that the Viscount or his friends wouldagree to that.

The Viscount of Mitread, Lord Peter Kole, was particularly virulent against the idea of

Magnolia being brought into the fold. He claimed it was because she was a woman orbecause she was young or inexperienced, but Daniel knew better.

Kole had three reasons for his obsession with her failure. The first was that Magnolia hadrejected his suit only a year previously. The second, and most pressing, was hispreoccupation with proving himself to the Crown. Third and final was the man’s enduringhatred of the Scots and fixation on showing personal and national superiority over them.

He was not the only one. James Reid, Earl of Westinford, and Lord Paul Jenkins had alsobeen strong detractors of his daughter. By no coincidence, they were also two of thesuitors Magnolia had turned away.

Jenkins would do anything to prove himself to the Crown. He longs to get away from hisWelsh heritage and establish himself as English as any of us. I know he holds angertowards our daughter even now.

And as for Reid, his pride would lead him to do…anything. I shudder to think of therevenge he’s plotting in his small mind, even if he never acts upon it.

The arguing had been bitter, but Daniel and the Marquess had won out. Now he pacednervously before the doors of the meeting room, the three privileged men already insidewaiting for him.

Or, more accurately, waiting for Magnolia. He glanced anxiously at his pocket watch. Shewas not yet late, but it would reflect poorly on him if his daughter was delayed after suchan argument. More importantly, it would reflect poorly on her.

He stared out along the hallway as if he could see her. He silently urged her to hurry toavoid the scorn of lesser men on their house, and, more critically, on her own admirableself.

Timothy hadn’t even the time to dismount and open the door for her when Magnoliasprinted out of the carriage, her braided hair bouncing against her back. She hurried tothe court steps, waving behind her in a gesture of thanks.

She was too conscious that she was still in her day-dress rather than court clothes, butthere had been no time to change between Lizzy’s house and now. She was thankful thatshe’d chosen a well-bodiced gown for her trip, so she would not look out of place.

Well, no more out of place than usual, anyway. Dress restrictions bothered her, but shealso was more than aware of their importance at court. As a woman, she needed to proveherself more than anyone. Both for her own sake and for her beloved father.

She hurried up the marble steps, exchanging a friendly smile with the young doormanwho winked at her on the way past. Her flat shoes clicked on the tiled floor, and her skirt

hindered her from moving faster. She rather reminded herself of a horse galloping to agoal but held back by its bridle.

Her father waited at the end of the third hallway, and the relief that echoed from his faceas he saw her approach was more than palpable.

“I’m sorry that I am late, Father,” she told him, with a little polite curtsy. LordWinterbourne did not expect such formality in his address with his daughter. Still,Magnolia wanted to do everything correctly when she knew that today she would proveherself to the Crown. “Forgive me.”

“Worry not, Daughter,” her father said with that gentle, proud smile she loved so much.“Your arrival is perfectly timely. Come, the gentlemen await.”

She followed, keeping her expression clear and her chin high even as the nervesthreatened to overwhelm her. She held herself steady even as she noticed the men in theroom and could barely believe that she was in their presence in a closed meeting such asthis.

Duke Barton and Marquess Conley were the leaders of the Order. The former was in hissixties, with salt-and-pepper hair and a severe, square jaw. The latter was a round,cheerful man who had blonde curls almost as light as his official white wig. Despitelooking like polar opposites, both men were equally kind–and equally merciless when itcame time to protect the Crown.

I do like these men, but they do make me exceedingly nervous. What could such powerfulmen possibly want with the likes of me? What can I do for them? Will I do my father’sname justice?

Her father’s counterpart in the order, the Viscount of Mitread, was the only other man inthe room. He was tall and slender with brown hair and spectacles, younger than the othermen but cunning in a way that had shot him through the Order’s ranks.

Magnolia was intimidated by all of them, even knowing of their friendliness and courtesy.Still, she did not let it show at all as her father guided her to the table.

The Duke, the Marquess, and the Viscount all stood as Magnolia’s father held out herchair.

“Thank you, Father,” she said politely, sitting. When she did, the four men sat too. It wasa synchronized movement, showing they were all used to acting as one, and it madeMagnolia even more nervous.

Can I fit here? I am so different already, and they are already so used to each other.

She didn’t have much time to ponder, though, as the Duke started his briefingimmediately.

“There have been rumors,” the Duke said in his gravelly voice. “Rumors that the Scots aregathering and preparing for an ambush.”

Magnolia started suddenly, shock filling her at the very idea. “But I thought we were in atime of peace?”

All eyes turned to her, and Lord Kole spoke in a gentle tone. There was warmth in it, andshe was pleased he did not hold her rejection against her. “My dear Lady, I know youhave not been educated in warfare, but I do assure you that the Duke knows hisbusiness.”

There was a pause. Magnolia felt somewhat condescended to, despite his kindness, butshe did not speak up. It would not do to let her emotions cloud her judgment now.

The Duke spoke to her with a deferential nod. “That is correct, Lady Winterbourne,” hesaid. “Your astuteness does your father credit. However, peace is fleeting, and if theScots attack and we are unprepared, it could be deadly.”

The Marquess nodded. “Quite. Which is why we must send one of our agents to retrieveinformation. We know from past work that they will likely gather around the Laird of theMacFoihl Clan. We need someone to go into his castle and find out what they areplanning.”

Lord Kole straightened in his chair. “Your Grace, I know of Nathair Irvine. I would behappy to—”

“Which is why,” the Duke’s words cut across him, “Lord Winterbourne has invited hisdaughter here today. We believe that you, my dear, could be instrumental in preventingthis new war before it begins.”

Magnolia took a moment to understand precisely what the Duke had just said. “Forgiveme, but…me? Why not Lord Reid? Lord Jenkins? Or here, the Viscount himself has justoffered.”

The Duke smiled and opened his mouth to answer her.

“Your Grace, I must object!” Lord Kole interrupted. “Lady Winterbourne is no doubtextremely skilled and talented, but we must not forget ourselves. She is a woman still, nomatter her wit, and unwed at that. Should we risk her safety in such an endeavor? TheScots are barbaric.”

Magnolia knew that he was only attempting to protect her, but she felt a shudder ofirritation, nonetheless. Keeping her face smooth, she glanced at him and said, “Why, MyLord, is not our Queen an unwed woman?”

An expression passed Lord Kole’s face too quickly for Magnolia to process, but he noddedand said, in that same polite tone, “Indeed. But Her Divine Majesty is an exception tomany rules, while you…”

“Are the daughter of our most loyal Earl, and a proven agent in her own right,” theMarquess finished mildly. “And, therefore, an excellent candidate for this role. Reid andJenkins are talented in their ways, but they are too hot-headed for this mission. Magnoliais the one who will do it.”

Both Kole and Magnolia were silent for a moment, then Kole held out his hands in defeat.“Of course. I simply wish what is best for the Lady.”

“You are very kind, Lord Kole,” Magnolia told him. It was true. He may be misguided, butit still warmed her heart that he would try to protect her in such a way.

“Indeed. Most kind,” Magnolia’s father agreed. For some reason, he sounded somewhatamused. “My Lord Marquess, if you would continue?”

Marquess Conley smiled and addressed Magnolia. “The Laird of MacFoihl has a youngdaughter. He has been searching for someone to care for her since the death of his wife.My Lady, if she would, could infiltrate the castle as a nanny. It would make herinconspicuous, and we have been presented with a cover story that cannot bequestioned.”

When Magnolia took a long moment to answer, the Marquess turned to her father andadded, “What say you, Lord Winterbourne?”

“I am entirely in support of the idea. I have no doubt of my daughter’s capabilities orloyalties,” her father said with a nod. “Though I defer to her in the final decision.”

Magnolia felt a surge of almost overwhelming excitement at the idea. Such a criticalmission, and for her?

A chance to serve the Crown in full and prove my detractors wrong at last!

However, she spoke with caution as she answered. “I am flattered, My Lords, Your Grace,but…even if I am to use an alias in Scotland, shan’t it seem suspicious here in court thatmy esteemed Father would send his only heir as a nanny?”

The Marquess grinned. “Oh, you are a clever one. But we have thought of all of that. Tellher, Daniel.”

Winterbourne smiled at the girl. “My cousin, your Aunt Mary, is with child,” he informedher. “And she assures me that she expects a son. Assuming this is true, then the boywould be my heir. Legally.”

Magnolia could not tell if this was a ruse. Assuming that it was not, she was not entirelysure how to feel about the news. If Aunt Mary was really with child, then that waswonderful news, of course. Yes, it would mean giving up the heirship if the baby was aboy, but a new family member was a blessing.

So why do I feel so uncertain about it? Am I so uncertain of myself? Of my place? Do I not

know who I am, regardless of my duty?

That thought unsettled her more than she would like, and so she turned her focus oncemore to the mission.

She was silent for a long moment, all eyes on her. When she spoke, it was slow andconsidered. “Of course, my first duties are to my Father and to the Crown. How would thisproject be organized?”

The Duke glanced at the Marquess, who fixed his glasses and recited, “You will apply for,and hopefully be accepted for, the job. You will send one letter to your Father, in code, toinform him you have been accepted. It will be under a false name.”

He glanced at the parchment in front of him. “You will live with the Laird as hisdaughter’s new nanny for a month of at least four weeks from the moment of hiring. Afterthe month is complete, you will submit a report, and you will return home while thematter is dealt with by our men.”

She nodded, and the Marquess continued. “You may flee if discovered, but if you arecaught, you will deny any knowledge of the Order or the workings of the Crown. Anythingurgent must be reported immediately. You will leave in two days and have that muchtime to settle your affairs and gather what you need to leave.”

Lord Kole looked worried. “If they catch her, she could be hanged. The Scots are savages.Her pretty face won’t save her, nor will her esteemed and genteel manners. You arerisking Lord Winterbourne’s only child. Much better that you dispense with the nanny planaltogether and send in an experienced agent.”

Magnolia hesitated at the thought. “Is that true, Father? I could be hanged?”

Lord Winterbourne’s face was grave. “Yes. I will not lie to you, Daughter; this isdangerous. You are to have no contact with your family or the organization for at leastthe first month. You will be entirely on your own. Nobody can help you.”

“But,” the Duke added, “if you do this for us, the Crown will personally owe you itsgratitude. As will I, My Lady, and all members of the Order of the Red Blossom.”

She paused again, mulling it all over in her mind. Such a task. Such an honor. Such anoverwhelming responsibility!

Am I truly ready for this? Am I prepared to leave my friends, my family, everything I knowbehind and travel into the great unknown?

“Two days?” Magnolia asked.

“And no more,” the Marquess confirmed. “It’s a long journey up north, and we need tostart soon. You will use an alias. As long as you are in Scotland, you will hold no title butthat of the nanny Magnolia Leighmoore. Your history will mean nothing.”

She swallowed, feeling her nerves rise as her eyes met his.

She could feel them all looking at her. The Duke, the Marquess, Lord Kole…and herfather. All focus was on the girl as the Duke said, “So, dear Magnolia. What do you say?”

“I

2THE JOURNEY

cannot believe you’re going all the way to Scotland to seek employment, Magnolia!”Lizzy said, for what must have been the thirtieth time during this visit. “To be a nanny, noless! Aren’t there children enough in England to keep you entertained? Look, there’s oneon your knee now.”

Magnolia bounced the baby on her lap, a soft smile on her face as she did so. Little Johnhad been named at his baptism today, and Magnolia was eternally honored to have beenchosen as godmother. It did, however, make leaving all the harder.

“Lizzy, I simply must,” she told her friend. “I have barely seen anything of the world. If Iam not to inherit Elfinstone after all, then why should I not see some of the world?”

“But Scotland, Magnolia! They are barbarians up in those parts!” Lizzy leaned forward andlowered their voice. “I hear they don’t even bother with real marriages. They stealwomen from their beds and get them with child so that the poor woman is bound tothem!”

“That’s nonsense,” Magnolia said sharply, though secretly she was unsure. She knew alittle about Scottish customs, but the further north, the less in-depth her knowledge. Lizzywas a gossip, but she always had a way of making Magnolia think twice about things.

What do I really know about the Scottish Highlanders? We are in a time of peace, but wehave fought wars a-plenty. My father and the Order dedicate much of their timedefending our borders from their spies. What am I getting myself into?

But it did not matter, not really. Magnolia looked down at the baby in her arms, her littlegodson, and brushed his wispy dark hair gently.

I will go regardless. To protect you, John, and to please my Father, and to serve ourCrown. I will ensure you and all like you grow up in a country of safety and peace.

She could not speak of any of this to Lizzy, of course. Instead, she continued with herdisapproving correction, as though she really knew of what she spoke. “The Scots arehuman, just like you or I. They may be less civilized in some respects, but I will be

perfectly safe at the home of a respected Laird.”

Unless he has me hanged as a spy, of course.

“You will write, though?” Lizzy asked, as Magnolia reluctantly handed John back to her.“You will keep in touch?”

“I shall endeavor to do so,” she promised, even though she knew her opportunities wouldbe minimal. “Do not worry. Focus on your husband and your son. I will write as soon as Iam able.”

She buttoned her coat. “I must go now; I have many preparations to see to and very littletime in which to make them. Take care of yourself, Lizzy.”

The two women embraced carefully so as not to squash the infant, and then Magnoliaheaded for the door. She paused in the doorway as Lizzy called her name once more,turning her head.

Lizzy looked hesitant as she said, “Why do I feel like I shall never see you home again?”

Magnolia shook her head and forced a smile, though it felt like Lizzy had dropped a stoneinto her gut. “You worry too much,” she told her. “Be safe.” And then she walked out,leaving her friend and the baby behind.

Two days was too short a time for a father to have to say goodbye to his daughter, butthe day of her leaving arrived regardless. He journeyed north with her, as far asEdinburgh, where he would meet with one of his liaisons after he passed her onto thecoach to the Highlands.

They sat together in a small teashop, sipping at their cups, and Daniel found himself at acomplete loss of words. His daughter sat there in her traveling clothes, looking calmerthan he ever remembered.

Is this an act? Is she trying so hard to make sure she does not leave me upset? Wouldthat I could read her mind and see her worries for myself. Would that I could take on thisburden for her.

“Magnolia,” he said after a reasonably long stretch of silence had passed. “My dearDaughter. I hope you know that you are still free to change your mind. If you felt at allpressured into this, I do not wish—”

“I don’t feel pressured, Father,” Magnolia replied. She had the same decisive smile on herface that Eleanor had worn whenever she decided an argument was won. “I know myduty as well as you. Will you please relax? For my sake, if nothing else?”

Daniel smiled. “My brave little girl,” he said. “Though not so little anymore. Have I done

right by you, involving you in all of this? Should I have kept you from the Order andvalued your safety more?”

She leaned over the table and took his hand in her own. “Father,” she said firmly, “youhave always done right by me. Since Mother died, you have served as mother and fatherboth. You have trained me and educated me and allowed me freedoms that manywomen of my rank could never dream. Never doubt yourself on my behalf.”

Daniel felt a swell of pride and love threaten to overwhelm him, and tears pricked at hiseyes. “Promise me, child, that you will do everything in your power to remain safe.”

“I love you, Father,” she told him earnestly. “I love my Country. I love the Crown. I willreturn with the information we need to help our country protect itself.”

He watched her, the passion and enthusiasm and seriousness in her expression, and hadnever been so gratified…or so worried.

That isn’t what I asked, Magnolia, he thought but did not say. After all, it was he who hadraised her this way–Country before self, Crown above all.

Later, they walked together through the streets of Edinburgh, and Daniel marveled, as healways did, over how similar it was to home but with a different flavor. It was a cityindeed, not all that different from any in England except, of course, London. TheScottishness was here, in the flags that flew and the way they spoke, but it was similarenough to feel...comfortable.

“Isn’t it amazing, Father, how everything changed at the border?” Magnolia asked him,looking around with a half-smile on her face.

Daniel gave her a questioning look.

How is it that she sees something so different from what I see?

It seemed that this was always the case, ever since Magnolia was a child. She’d alwayshad a unique take on otherwise simple ideas. She spoke the kind of thought processesthat, if she were a man, would have her lauded as a great philosopher.

He remembered the first time this had stood out to him and made him realize howdifferent his daughter really was compared to other girls of her age and time.

“Father, Mother,” she’d once asked them both over dinner, aged just nine. “When mybrother died before I was born, did he go to Heaven?”

“He was not baptized,” he’d told her, truthfully, a sad note in his tone now. It wassomething that often worried him, deep in his soul. “I do not know. We did not even havethe chance to name him.”

Magnolia had tilted her head and said, “I think he is there, with all the others who werenever born. After all, God already knew the name of his heart, even if we didn’t yet.”

Eleanor had burst into tears and embraced her, and Daniel had never known such love ashe felt for his clever little daughter at that moment.

Back in the present, Daniel asked, “Different in what way, my dear?”

Magnolia gestured vaguely to the air. “Surely you can see it too, Father. The grassseemed more alive the second we crossed. Greener, somehow. I suppose it is all the rainthey get here in the north. Even this city, which isn’t all that different; there’s somethingodd in the air, isn’t there?”

Daniel nodded slightly. He couldn’t deny that. “I suppose so. You seem to feel it muchmore intensely than I do, though.”

She shrugged. “Maybe. Is it so…strange as all of this up in the Highlands, too?”

No. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen. I don’t even know how to begin to prepare you.

But all Daniel said was, “It’s different up north.”

Magnolia just nodded, smiled trustingly at him, and took his arm.

They walked together like that until they reached the carriage stop. Magnolia embracedher father tightly before she boarded. “Do not worry, Father. I will be quite all right.”

“I know you will,” Daniel told her. He helped her onboard then kissed her cheek throughthe open window. Then he stood back, and with a final wave, the carriage took hisdaughter from him, away up to the wild north and the unknown.

He watched the horses trot away with the carriage until it turned a corner, and then hecould see no trace of it anymore. It was as though it, and Magnolia, had never been hereat all.

As a Lord, he could not be more pleased with the opportunity his child had been offeredand accepted. As a father, though, he could not be more afraid.

The journey from Scotland’s civilized capital to its wild north took longer than even theone from home to Edinburgh. Magnolia began to wonder if she would ride in this carriagefor eternity. They stopped nightly for rest and refreshment at whatever inn they couldfind, but the further north they traveled, the sparser the inns became.

She noticed the change just as she’d seen it when they had crossed the English-Scottishborder when they left what she knew as civilization behind.

Extraordinary, Magnolia thought to herself as she watched, entranced, I would neverhave imagined a place such as this.

The grass grew wilder, the birds sang louder. As they trundled along a hillside road,Magnolia could see nothing but Scottish mist for miles around. The drizzly fog gave thewhole world an ethereal quality, which both unsettled and excited her.

On the days when the mists were less thick, or when they traveled at a lower dip, theview outside the window was spectacular. It did rain a lot, more than she was used to,but when the rains finished, they just seemed to have enhanced the landscape ratherthan diminish it.

The trees were taller than any Magnolia could remember seeing before in her life,towering over them like towers or castles. Once, when they traveled directly through aforest, the dense pines seemed to completely block out the sun.

It is like an illustration from a manuscript of children’s faerie stories. Like an evil witch ora clever pixie could jump out of the darkness at any moment and spirit me away forever.

Magnolia shivered at the thought, and though, of course, she did not believe in suchthings, she retreated from the window until the forest had passed.

When they passed farmland, even the animals seemed different. The sheep were sheep,though they appeared to frolic more here than on the farms in England. The cows shespied, though, were like creatures she had never imagined.

They were not the standard dairy cows and bull studs she knew, but rather another beastaltogether. They were roughly the shape of a cow, and the size too, but they had broadershoulders, longer horns, and perhaps most strangely, they were covered in thick, shaggybrown hair!

The first time she saw them, she didn’t even realize that they were cows at all. They hadstopped for the night at a small cottage. She and the driver were eating together out inthe garden when she pointed to the animals in the field across from them.

“What kind of beast is that?” she asked. “I have never seen its like.”

The driver, a hardy Scotsman in his fifties, burst into laughter. “That’s a Heilan’ coo, lass,”he said. “That’s what coos look like up in these parts.”

She’d spent enough time with him now that she understood that he meant Highland cow,but it seemed so strange to her that these creatures should be the same as the farmanimals back home, or even further south!

On pleasant days, she’d spy flowers she’d never seen before in her life, and sometimesthe driver would stop so she could pick them. She was entranced by one she’d neverseen, a strange spiky plant with a brilliant purple flower that displayed as thousands oflittle hairs on top.

When she pointed it out to him, he simply laughed, though not unkindly. “That isnae aflower, Miss. It’s jist a weed.”

“But it’s so beautiful,” she said, surprised. The driver shrugged, and she moved deeperinto the field, her skirt catching on the high grass as she walked past, the smell of thefresh air almost too sweet in her lungs. She knelt next to it and carefully reached out afinger to brush the tiny violet petals.

“Och, dinnae—” the driver started, obviously alarmed.

“Ouch!” she exclaimed, withdrawing her hand in surprise. The petals were prickly! Ithadn’t hurt so much as surprised her; the leaves had looked so delicate.

“Are ye hurt?” the driver asked her.

“No, not at all,” she said, shaking her stinging hand. She covered her hand with the clothfrom a layer of her skirt and reached out again, carefully plucking the flower. “I still thinkit’s beautiful. What is it?”

He chuckled. “It’s a thistle, Me Lady. The national flo’er o’ Scotland.”

“A thistle,” she mused. She tucked the little flower into her bodice, and together theyheaded back to the carriage.

I wonder if the Laird of Clan MacFoihl will be as prickly as this flower? Or as easy to tamein the end?

Somehow, she doubted the latter very much.

As the carriage trundled away from the wild field, she couldn’t help but think the samethought to herself over and over again. Would this end with her triumphantly returninghome with the information the crown needed from her? Or would she get stung, and thistime not so lightly?

“D

3THE HIRING

adaidh!” Elaine shrieked as she “found” him again, hiding just behind his favoriterocking chair where he’d sit to read to her at night. “I found ye, Dadaidh! I’m the winner!”

Nathair laughed, scooping his little daughter up in his arms. “Ye surely did! Dinnae yeever forget, me precious wee heart, ye’ll always find me when you need tae.”

“Ye’re awfie silly,” Elaine giggled, patting his cheek through his vivid red beard.

“Och, silly, is it?” Nathair grinned. He sat down heavily on the floor of her chamber,pulling her down with him. He held her in her lap, tickling her belly until she shrieked,kicking her little legs and flailing her arms in false protest. “Who are ye callin’ silly?”

There was a knock at the door, and Nathair stopped tickling Elaine long enough to call forwhoever it was to come in. He smiled pleasantly as he saw her.

The young maid was only nineteen, with tightly curled brown hair and shocking blueeyes. She was as common as dirt, and Nathair liked that about her. Her mother was thecastle’s Cook, and her father an earnest farmer for the clan. When they’d asked Nathair tohire her, he hadn’t even considered doing otherwise.

Her name was Betty, and she had been a real gift from God above. She was one ofElaine’s few playmates when Nathair was busy, which was far too often of late. Elaineloved her dearly, and Betty loved her in return, which had been a blessing when Elainewas younger and just needed some company.

The child brightened when she saw her. “Betty! Have ye come to play wi’ me andDadaidh?”

Betty smiled and nodded her head at the child but spoke directly to Nathair. “Me Laird,I’m right sorry to interrupt, but there’s a posh English lass here askin’ tae speak wi’ you.”

Nathair stood, Elaine still in his arms. “She’s an English lass, ye say?”

That was very strange.

I am nae accustomed to visits from the English, even in this so-called time of peace. Anda woman traveling alone from the Southern Country is fair strange, to say the least.

Betty was waiting for his answer, so he asked, “Dae we ken her?”

The maid dipped her head and replied, “She says her name’s Leighmoore, Me Laird. Idinnae ken the name. It isnae one of any o’ the English ye’ve met with that I recall.Should I tell her ye’re busy?”

He shook his head. “Nay, I’ll see what she wants first,” Nathair replied. “Thank ye kindlyfor tellin’ me.”

Elaine pouted. “But Dadaidh, it’s our playtime. Ye promised!”

Betty stepped forward. “Should I take Elaine?” She smiled at the pouting child. “We canplay that chase game ye like.”

He was about to hand her over, then shook his head. “That’s all right. She’s gonnae bethe Lady o’ the Castle one day. She can come to meet our visitor. A’right wae ye, mechook?”

Elaine nodded solemnly and said, “But ye have tae play wi’ me

later, Betty, a’right?”

Betty promised, and Nathair laughed. He placed Elaine on his shoulders, and like that,the two followed Betty down into the kitchens where the mysterious visiting girl awaitedthem.

The lady standing at the foot of the dais was very pretty. Elaine had only ever seenpictures of her Mamaidh, but this woman was at least as lovely as those portraits.Mamaidh had been dark, but this visitor was fair, with bright blonde hair and evenbrighter blue eyes, and the kind of skin that looked like she’d never spent much time outin the sun.

She had a sweet smile when she looked at Elaine and Nathair. When she spoke, though,her voice sounded very strange. The words weren’t quite what Elaine was used to. Eventhose that were familiar were pronounced in an odd fashion. It was like she didn’t knowhow to speak correctly.

Nathair put Elaine down in a chair at the head table on the dais and said to behave whilehe talked to the lady.

“Well, then. Welcome, visitor,” Nathair said, turning away from Elaine.

“My Laird,” the lady said in that funny voice of hers. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“O’ course,” Nathair said in his polite voice that he only used with visitors. “What can Idae for ye?”

The lady lifted the front material of her skirt and gave a short curtsy. It was very fancy,much more so than the one Betty sometimes did. “My name is Magnolia Leighmoore. I’ma nanny by trade. My previous family’s children have outgrown me, and in my travels, Iheard that you were looking for someone to work with your daughter.”

“Oh, aye?” Nathair asked, leaning casually against the table. “An’ how long have ye beennannying?”

“Ten years, My Laird. I started at sixteen.”

That was a lot of years, even Elaine knew that. Cook had taught her to count when shewas permitted to help in the kitchen sometimes. But she looked at the pretty ladysuspiciously now.

She knew nannies; she’d had a lot of them. They kept leaving, and that kept makingDadaidh sad. They were supposed to teach her, not Cook. They were supposed to read toher rather than Betty and the other maid. There always seemed to be some reason theydidn’t work, and then they’d leave.

Elaine didn’t understand it, but she knew she hated it when they left because Dadaidhalways got sad.

“’Scuse me, Lady,” Elaine said, folding her arms. Both adults looked at her.

“Haud yer wheesht, pet,” Nathair told her.

The lady shook her head. “It’s quite all right. You can call me

Magnolia if you like. What’s your name?”

“Mag-nole-ya?” Elaine asked, tilting her head. “Me name’s Elaine.”

The lady smiled. “Elaine, is it? That’s a beautiful name. My Mother was named Eleanor,you know. It’s nearly the same thing. Maybe that means we’ll be friends?”

Elaine stared at her. If that was true, it was exciting! She had never met another Elaineor Eleanor before. That was almost like fate! But she was still suspicious. “Miss Magno…Magna…Maggie, are ye gonnae make my Dadaidh sad?”

Magnolia seemed amused by the nickname. “What’s a dod-yee?” she asked in her strangeaccent.

Ah, so clearly she didn’t know very much. That was all right. Elaine would help her. Elainewas very good at helping people. She was patient as she explained, “Dadaidh is what Icall my Athair.”

Magnolia frowned. “And your ah-hair is your…”

“That’d be me,” Nathair spoke up, “her Faither. She’s speakin’ in Gaelic. My wee chook iswell-educated already. Can ye keep up wi’ her?”

Magnolia gave Nathair a look that Elaine didn’t understand. She didn’t look mad or sad,but she didn’t look happy either. “I’m sure Elaine and I can teach each other a lot. I findthat working with my charges rather than dictating to them tends to go over much better.And look, she’s taught me a new word already!”

Elaine looked at Nathair and was thrilled to see he was smiling.

I must have made him smile because I’m helping Maggie to learn!

Elaine gave her father a huge beam to show she was pleased, too. If her helping Maggiewas helping Dadaidh, then Maggie could stay…maybe.

Nathair gave Elaine a brief grin in return then looked back at Magnolia.

“Tell me, Miss Leighmoore, how well dae ye cook? We’ve got a cook, o’ course, but ifshe’s no available or we’re away from the castle, how would ye feed Elaine?” Nathairasked. He had a thoughtful look on his face. “Ye look high-born. Nae really the type to beslavin’ o’er a hot stove.”

“High-born enough to be educated in the arts, My Laird, and no more,” Magnolia repliedpleasantly without so much as a pause. “I am pleased to prepare food in most anycircumstance. I would happily find out Elaine’s likes and dislikes to make sure I can cooksomething we all enjoy if need be. I can act the role of maid and cook as well as a nanny.Whatever My Laird requires.”

Nathair nodded, looking thoughtful again. Elaine looked between him and Magnolia, thendecided that he obviously needed some help. She wriggled down off the chair, and, witha little difficulty, down off the dais, too. Dadaidh didn’t try to stop her, but she felt himbeing nervous behind her. Elaine marched right up to Magnolia.

Magnolia smiled at her and crouched so that their faces were level. “Warmest greetingsto you, young Maid, Elaine. Did you have something to ask me?”

Elaine pulled herself up to her biggest height, making sure that Maggie knew that shewas the Maid of MacFoihl, and therefore she was in charge. She nodded. “Aye, I dae havea question,” she said. “Dae ye ken any good games, Maggie?”

“Games?” Magnolia blinked a few times, then laughed. “I know hundreds! Do you likemarbles?” She reached into her right pocket and pulled out a shiny white ball. It was

beautiful, but…

“I have a load o’ marbles. Dae ye ken anything else?” Elaine asked her. If she didn’t haveanything other than that, then what was the point?

Magnolia thought about it for a moment, then her face brightened. “Have you ever playedHandy-Dandy?”

“What’s that?” Elaine asked, curious. She’d never heard of such a game.

Magnolia closed her hand around the ball and stood up straight, then put both armsbehind her back. After a moment, she said, “What hand is my marble in?”

Elaine pointed. “That’s easy. That one!”

But when the right hand was extended and opened, it was empty!

Is she using magic? Is she a witch?

Elaine was uncertain.

Then Magnolia showed her the ball in her left hand. “I switched it!”

“Let me try!”

They played with the marble for a while, and Elaine knew her Dadaidh was watching. Shehoped he was pleased. She wouldn’t mind if someone fun like Magnolia stayed for a weewhile.

He hired her almost immediately, promising at least a month of employment before theyreviewed her staying more permanently. She’d been surprised at that, but when sheasked why he hired so quickly, he shrugged and told her that if she was good enough forElaine, she was good enough for him. Magnolia couldn’t quite believe it had gone so welland that she’d been hired immediately. Still, she thanked him as graciously as she knewhow, over and over again.

As Magnolia was shown through the stone-walled hallways towards what would be herrooms by a young maid, though, she couldn’t help but feel suspicious.

Yes, she’s a sweet child, and the Laird seems to care for her deeply, but he wouldn’thesitate to have me hanged.

She could feel a phantom pain around her neck already. It was as though the rope wasmeasured and tightening around her neck. She was more than aware of the dangerahead of her. It felt strange to her that she should be hired so quickly. It felt like he wasplotting something. It was almost as if he’d known the whole time what game she was

playing.

Does he suspect something? If so, then surely he would not have involved his daughter?

She frowned to herself. She didn’t know anything about this man. But the way heinteracted with Elaine…thinking about it made her smile.

My Father looks at me in the same way as he gazes at that little girl. Whatever else he is,whatever else he’s plotting, he loves her. Just like my Father loves me. And Elaine adoreshim, too.

The little girl looked remarkably like him. She had his bright red hair and freckledfeatures, though her eyes were a deep gray that sparkled like silver in her excitement.She wore her hair neatly in braids, and she had dimples on both cheeks.

Her father was like a wild version of her. Nathair’s hair really was a flame, wild withoutbeing messy as it bounced around his head and down to his shoulders, with a matchingfiery beard. His eyes were a brilliant green she had never seen in a person.

They look like they belong to a ginger cat. Intelligent, shrewd. As though he is a half-wildtom who has seen much, and he’s prepared for anything.

He was tall, at least a head-and-a-half taller than she if her estimates from the floor werecorrect, and though he dressed modestly, it was clear he had hard, toned arms and legsunder his lordly clothing.

And he is rather handsome, I suppose. In a barbarian sort of way.

He was the kind of attractive that screamed danger and warning but intrigued sillier girlsthan Magnolia, nonetheless. His freckles, noticeable and thick all over every visible partof his sun-darkened skin, added a layer of the unexpected. Especially those dotted on hischeeks and over his nose. When she thought of how they looked…

Well, they’re rather adorable.

The second the thought came to her mind, she shooed it away.

That was absurd! The Scottish air must be getting to her mind.

She shook her head, alarmed by the turns of her daydreams. No. She could not becomecaught up in such sentiment now! She must remember that everyone here–the maid, thecook, even her four-year-old charge and especially her charge’s handsome father–was apotential threat.

If she was caught, she could be hanged, and Nathair would be the one to give the order.Even now, he could be planning an assault against the Crown and Country she and herfather loved so much. No number of freckles could soften her against such as that. No softbeard, no muscles, could make a monster less of a beast.

“This is yer room while ye’re here,” the maid told her. “It’s a’ made up. His Lairdshiphasnae changed it since the last…well, it’s a’ yers, now.”

Magnolia gave her a small smile. “Thank you,” she said. She opened the door, and themaid turned to go. Magnolia reached out and touched her shoulder. “Wait. What’s yourname? I never asked you before, which was very rude of me. I apologize.”

The maid’s cheeks blushed bright red, and she nervously brushed some of her dark curlsfrom her face. “Ye dinnae need to apologize tae the likes of me, Miss.”

“I insist,” Magnolia pressed. “We shall be working together, shall we not? Please give meyour name so that I may thank you better.”

The color in the maid’s cheeks blossomed into something gentler and more pleasant.“Well, if ye insist. Me name is Betty, Miss.”

“Betty is short for Elizabeth?”

“Aye. Me Maither is an Elizabeth, too, but she’s Eliza.”

Magnolia gave her a genuine smile. This young woman, at least, seemed harmless. “Mybest friend at home is also Elizabeth. We call her Lizzy,” she said. “I hope this is a goodsign that you and I will get along well together.”

Betty returned the smile a little awkwardly. “Well, that’d be fair pleasant, Miss.” Sheshrugged. “There arenae many young folk aroun’ here. It’d be nice to have someone fortalkin’ to, Miss.”

“Thank you, Betty. For introducing yourself, and for showing me here.” Magnolia said.“And, please, call me Magnolia.”

“Aye, all right,” Betty agreed. “It’s been really nice to meet ye… Magnolia.”

Betty curtsied and left. Once she was gone, Magnolia entered her room. She closed thedoor and was surprised by the generous size of the chamber.

There was a large bed with a beautiful patterned quilt and an abundance of soft pillows.In the corner was an ornate oak dresser, and along one wall sat an elaborate writingdesk with an elegant matching chair. There was plenty of floor space without making theroom look empty. There was even a rather delightful rug patterned with an astoundinglybeautiful unicorn.

Magnolia walked to the large window and opened the shutters, and what she saw almosttook her breath away.

It did not just look like she was in another country. It looked like another world. Therewere greenery and trees as far as the eye could see. She’d seen them on the way here,of course, but seeing them from above was…astounding.

Is this what a bird feels like when it soars above the forests?

Many of the homes of the MacFoihl Clan could be seen in the near distance, but theyblended with the natural landscape rather than disrupting it. They looked almost asnatural as the trees did, even the faint moving dots she guessed were the clan’s peoplegoing about their evening duties.

Between the castle and the start of the village and forest, there was a considerable bodyof water. It was a glistening clean loch, Magnolia knew, of the sort that she could onlyimagine in the South. It was more beautiful than even the lakes that were famed in theBorderlands.

I cannot see, but that loch must be teeming with fish and wildlife. It really did look likesome celestial otherworld. Do the fish look the same as those at home? Do the birds singthe same way?

Somehow, this thought seemed overwhelmingly lonely, and a sob rose unbidden in herthroat. Her eyes started to itch. She let no tears fall and no sound out, though.

Why am I so upset all of a sudden? Why do I suddenly feel so melancholy? I am here on amission. I must not get emotional before I have even started my work.

She closed the shutters tight, holding them closed for a few seconds and taking somedeep breaths to steady herself.

Easy, now. Breathe, Magnolia. Breathe.

She moved away from the window and focused on the necessary tasks immediatelyahead of her. She unbuttoned her over-gown, determining that now was as good a timeas any for a rest. She kicked off her shoes and lay down on her bed after loosening herbodice, staring up at the pretty pattern on the ceiling, then closed her eyes.

I must stay focused. I have a mission. I must be alert and keep my suspicions at theforefront of my mind. I have no access to my Father, my friends, the Crown’s protection. Iam on my own and responsible for my own choices and fate now.

This place she would call home for the next moon-turn was foreign to her, in everythingfrom the building to the fields to the smell of the air. She was under threat of death orworse if she misstepped even once. She was simply an Earl’s daughter, and this was likeno task she’d ever completed before.

But I can do this. I will do this. More than that, I must. For my Country, for my Queen,and for my Father.

When she thought of all that green–of the trees outside, the scent of fresh grass, thedaisy chain Elaine wore around her neck, a particular pair of eyes–it made her wary. Shewas not very far from home, but she may as well be entirely outside the Earth.

It does not matter. I am brave. I am strong.

Magnolia repeated it like a chant in her head, taking from it strength and comfort,hearing her father’s voice as she did.

No matter how brave and strong she was, though, she was alone and scared, and thoughshe would never admit it aloud, afraid of this strange new world and its bizarreinhabitants.

She could not help but feel frightened that this alien world may be the last thing that hereyes ever saw.

The girl was lying about her name. Nathair knew that much, and he pondered it as hecrept out of Elaine’s chambers while the child slept. Magnolia was more high-born thanshe wanted him to believe, and he knew of no Leighmoore family.

As Clan Chief, he made a point of knowing the top English names in case they shouldattack again. He’d never heard of Leighmoore, nor anything close to it. Even besides that,though she’d smiled prettily enough, there had been a hint of…something…in her eyes.Something he didn’t quite know.

But ye hired her anyway, Nathair. Why?

Well, there were a thousand reasons a noble lass could be fibbing about her ownsurname. It needn’t be anything sinister. Perhaps she was on the run from her father.Mayhaps she had been involved in a marriage gone wrong–those kinds of unfortunatesituations were undoubtedly common enough when people were wed without love.

He knew that the English could be particularly restrictive of their women; even theSouthern Scots were sometimes guilty of that. Perhaps she had tried to change heridentity simply to escape the life she’d left behind.

There was no denying she was good with Elaine, either. Elaine was precious, pleasant,and bright, but she never took to anyone so quickly as she’d taken to Magnolia. If shecould keep Elaine amused, safe, and educated, then she was already miles ahead of anyof the nannies he had tried to retain so far.

An’ the lass’ answers to me questions were sharp without disrespectin’ me and meposition. She’s got a cleverness about her, a wit combined wi’ a strange kind of kindness Ihavenae seen since…well, nae since Catrina.

Nathair entered his own chambers, sighing as he shrugged off his over-wear and then hisundershirt, his muscled chest bathed in the moonlight. He smiled faintly at the tinyminiature portrait he kept on his bedside. It was of his beloved late wife with her shiningblack hair and those shining gray eyes she’d given to their daughter along with her life.

Four-and-a-half years had passed since Catrina’s death, but he would never stop missingher. Or feeling guilty that she was gone.

He moved to his washbasin, soaking his face and splashing water on his arms and torsoas was his nighttime tradition. It had been unimaginably complicated, balancing anewborn babe with his duties as Laird and Chief.

He hadn’t even been able to grieve, torn between his duties and fatherhood. Nathair onlywanted the best for Elaine, but he had never been able to spend the time with her heliked. When she was young enough for wet-nurses, they had cared for her, but since shewas weaned, it had gotten much harder.

Too smart for her own good, me wee chook. Too curious. Too eager to ken the world an’how it works. A million questions that me and mine didnae and still dinnae have theanswers to gi’e her.

The child was remarkably intelligent, with a voracious hunger to learn even at her tenderage. It had been too much for many of the nannies that Nathair had previously hired.Many had resigned, and many more simply abandoned their post without explanation.

Aye, and then my heart broke o’er and o’er as the bairn kept askin’ me if it was her fault.It’s me own fault for no’ being careful enough.

The maids and the cook had stepped in. All the servants loved the child as though shewas theirs, and Elaine loved them in return. But it wasn’t enough; she was approachingfive and needed an education. Not just any education, either. It was unlikely that Nathairwould ever produce a son, which meant Elaine would one day be the sole Lady of thiscastle. There was no telling when that would happen.

So yes, this English lass may have her secrets, but perhaps that was just another sign ofher intelligence, and he could use that when it came to his daughter. Besides all of that,though he would never admit it, he was growing desperate. His duties required more andmore of his attention, and he lived in fear of leaving Elaine to become lonely.

Nathair knew loneliness better than most. The last thing the Laird wished was to burdenhis little daughter with it, too. He’d lost his parents at a relatively young age, and his wifewas gone now also. The other Lairds treated him with deference, which sometimes madethem forget to treat him as human. Apart from William, his army commander, hesometimes felt like he had nobody at all.

Magnolia Leighmoore, or whoever she indeed was, would care for his daughter, he wassure of that. She would stave off the loneliness from the girl, at least.

I’ll jist have to make sure I’m keepin’ my eye out on her.

He lay down on his bed, glancing once more at the miniature of Catrina. Catrina Kelton,the woman he’d married for love when everyone had suggested a more political alliance.He hadn’t regretted it for a moment. When Catrina was alive, she’d given him hope. She’d

given him life.

She’d given him Elaine.

What would she say about all of this? He knew already. “Ye need to learn to trust,Nathair.” She’d said that to him in their blissful years of marriage more times than hecould remember.

Perhaps she was right, even now beyond the grave. Perhaps now, with this strangeEnglish girl, was the time where he would finally permit trust back into his life. It hadalways been a problem for him, but it was undoubtedly in scarce supply since Catrina’sdeath.

But as he drifted off to sleep, Nathair had to wonder. Could he truly place his trust in astrange woman when that which was entrusted to her was more precious than any gold?Or would she just be another break to Elaine’s heart like all the rest?

She had better nae. For Elaine’s sake, for mine. And for her own.

Interested in finding out how the story ends?Tap on the link below to read the rest of the story.

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Thank you tons!

A L S O B Y E L O I S E M A D I G A N

Thank you for reading Sinbound to the Highlander!

I hope you had fun reading it! If you did, may I ask you to please write a review HERE? For me it would make all thedifference and I’d truly appreciate it. Reviews inspire me to keep writing books that you love to read!

Some other bestsellers of mine:

The Highlander's Alluring Spy

The Highlander's Captured Bride

Captured by His Highland Kiss

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I am so lucky to have you by my side on this new chapter of my life!

You are amazing!

Eloise Madigan

A B O U T T H E A U T H O R

Eloise Madigan is a passionate writer who fell in love with Scotland when she was only 5 years old. On a trip to thebeautiful Highlands with her family, she was encouraged by the mesmerizing scenery to start weaving intricate storiesabout handsome Highlanders and beautiful lasses.

Born in the US to a Scottish mother and an American father, she formed a deep bond with her mother’s roots. Shestudied English Literature and Creative Writing, and soon she began working as an editor for a small publishing house. Buteven though she liked editing, her true love lay in the short romantic stories she could write…This is when she decided tostart publishing her own romance novels!

When Eloise isn’t writing, she enjoys spending time with family and friends.

Accompany Eloise on the most wonderful trips across the mysterious Highlands, where love and adventure intertwine, androgue Highlanders are there to save the day! A world full of burning passion and sensational stories, that promise to sweepyou away, to the land of pleasure...