Page 15 of Deceived by the Highlander (Daughters of the Isle #2)

I nstinctively, Alasdair pulled Freyja closer so there was no distance between them as they left the courtyard of Kilvenie Tower. She held onto his arm as though it was the most natural thing in the world, and God help him, but he liked it.

He was also greatly relieved Ranulph hadn’t divulged to her the real reason why the earl had sent him to Rum. If she knew that, she’d never believe he was helping her because he wanted to, and not because the earl had ordered Alasdair to secure her hand in marriage by any means possible.

He stifled a sigh as they headed across the moorland to the beach where a few days ago he’d watched her throw propriety to the wind and race along the sand like a young lass.

Was it truly less than a week since they’d first met?

Sometimes, he found it hard to imagine he’d known her for such a short time.

She glanced at him, and he realized she was waiting for his response. With an effort, he buried the uneasy thread of guilt that he was deceiving her by not sharing the earl’s strategic reason for sending him here, and instead focused on her mesmerizing blue eyes.

It wasn’t hard to forget everything else but Freyja when she gazed at him with such trust.

“Then I shall stay.”

As they reached the beach, her expression turned curious. “I’m glad to hear it, but I should hate yer extended stay on Rum be the reason why yer fine castle is neglected in the meantime.”

Had he told her of Dunochty? He was certain he hadn’t.

It wasn’t even his, yet, to claim. But since he couldn’t explain that without revealing her part in the castle’s acquisition, he could scarcely ask her.

Besides, a noblewoman such as Freyja, with ancient royal blood in her veins no less, was sure to look more favorably upon a laird who owned a castle, rather than a commoner who had merely inherited his stepfather’s crumbling manor.

“There’s no need for concern. I’m here because I want to be with ye, Freyja. And that’s the truth.”

“If only the circumstances were happier. I hate to think yer memories of our beautiful isles will be cloaked by sadness.”

“Aye, there will always be a lingering sadness when I think of Ranulph. But that doesn’t mean I don’t also have happy memories of Rum. ’Tis where I met ye, after all.”

She shook her head. “Ye are a terrible flirt, and that’s a fact.”

She wasn’t the first woman to tell him that.

Even William and Hugh had mocked him over the years on how he always told women what they wanted to hear.

He’d always shrugged and laughed, for what did it matter if a few well-chosen words caused a woman to smile with favor rather than frown with affront?

But for the first time the word rubbed him the wrong way.

He didn’t want Freyja thinking he didn’t mean what he said to her.

That he was only saying what he believed she wanted to hear.

It was an uncomfortable revelation, and he didn’t know what to do with it.

So he shoved it to the back of his mind.

Her fingers caressed his forearm, a touch so light he should barely feel it, yet lightning sparked across his skin, igniting his blood like liquid fire.

Need roared through him, all but blinding him to reason, and it took every ounce of willpower he possessed to stop himself from wrapping his arms around her and possessing her irresistible lips once again.

Ah, God. How he longed to possess her in every sense of the word.

“I worry for Miles, though.” Sorrow threaded through every word, and he wished there was something he could say to ease her heartache. He and Afi grew up together. They are as close as brothers.”

The way he, William, and Hugh had grown up together. Unrelated by blood but brothers in every way that mattered. He gave Freyja a sideways glance as she gazed out at the sea and Ranulph’s command echoed in his mind.

“Her light must never be dimmed. Ye must promise me that.”

As far as Alasdair was concerned, the meaning was plain. Ranulph expected that whatever happened, he would keep his word and not trick Freyja into marriage.

When Ranulph’s time came and he’d been laid to rest, Alasdair would be there to comfort her and show her how good their life together could be. God knew, none of that was a lie. From the moment he’d met her, he’d been thankful the earl had sent him to woo her, and not another of his loyal men.

And once she was his bride, there was no reason for her to know that he’d only gone to Rum to fulfil the earl’s order to bring Kilvenie under Campbell jurisdiction.

*

When Freyja and Alasdair returned to the Tower, Miles met her in the hall. After an inscrutable glance at Alasdair, Miles focused on her. “Yer grandfather is asking for ye.”

“Of course.” She kept her worry from her voice, but she hoped Afi didn’t need another dose of the poppy. She’d given him the strongest tincture she had dared to, and it was too soon to administer another one yet.

She returned Alasdair’s smile before leaving him in the hall with Miles and making her way to her grandfather’s chamber.

He was propped up against his pillows in bed, and thankfully it appeared the poppy was still keeping his pain under control.

Amma sat on a chair beside him, concern etched into her features, as her grandfather greeted her.

“Frey.” He held out his hand and she went over to the bed. His fingers clasped hers and although it was a frail touch, at least he was no longer trembling. “Come, sit beside me.” He patted the edge of his bed with their linked hands, and she did as he bid.

“Ye’re looking better.” She kept her voice light. “How are ye feeling?”

“Don’t fret about me. ’Tis ye I wish to speak of. Yer Amma tells me Colban MacDonald has been bothering ye.”

Startled, she glanced at Amma. “I merely told yer Afi that Colban is sweet on ye. ’Tis nothing to be troubled about. I also assured him ye’re not interested in him that way.”

Although she hadn’t discussed Colban with her grandmother, she wasn’t surprised by Amma’s remarks. It seemed she was the only one who had been blind to Colban’s intentions until recently.

“Amma is right,” she assured her grandfather, even though she wasn’t sure why he would be so against such a match. Colban, after all, came from a prestigious line of MacDonalds from the Isle of Islay. “We’re simply friends, that is all.”

“Ye’re too trusting, lass. Men such as Colban do not consider women their friends.”

After her last encounter with Colban, she was inclined to agree, but she didn’t want to discuss it with Afi since he was becoming agitated. “Ye’re likely right,” she said, hoping that would ease his distress. “Please don’t trouble yer mind about it, Afi.”

“But I must.” There was an urgent note in his voice that sent a shiver of alarm along her spine.

She knew how some patients, as their end drew near, became fixated on a seemingly small issue.

But in their mind, it was everything. She hated to think her darling Afi was so worried about her.

“I’ve done ye wrong, not ensuring yer future is secure. ”

“But it is secure.” She glanced at Amma who shook her head. It was clear she hadn’t expected Afi to react so strongly when she’d told him about Colban. “Ye know it is. And if ye’re concerned I might wed Colban, there’s no need. Ye know my views on marriage.”

Although the question of her marriage had never been a subject they’d seriously discussed before, Afi was well aware she didn’t harbor romantic notions of finding her soulmate the way Roisin did.

She had her healing arts, and she doubted there was a man alive who’d be willing to take second place when it came to her medicine and the wellbeing of her patients. Certainly, she couldn’t see Colban allowing her such freedom.

Afi turned to her grandmother. “Helga, Freyja needs a strong alliance. I always thought I would have more time.”

“Hush, Ranulph.” Her grandmother patted his shoulder. “’Tis all right. I’ll not let any harm befall Freyja or Roisin.”

He sank back onto his pillows, clearly exhausted. “Aye.” His voice was hoarse, and his eyelids flickered. “I know ye won’t. Curse this malady.” His eyes closed and his grip on Freyja’s hand slackened.

Amma stood, and Freyja followed her to the door.

“We were merely speaking of everyday things,” her grandmother said, her voice low.

“I would not have mentioned Colban if I’d known it would upset him so.

But it seems the feud he had with Colban’s grandfather so many years ago has suddenly surfaced in his mind and he’s transferred his ire to Colban. ”

“’Tis not yer fault, Amma. Ye weren’t to know.”

Amma sighed. “Perhaps not. But in one thing yer Afi and I are in agreement: Colban isn’t the man for ye.”

*

Later that afternoon, Freyja was in her grandfather’s apothecary, cataloguing the dusty vials and jars that filled the shelves.

It wasn’t that the job needed doing—after all, she’d completed a thorough overhaul of Afi’s stores last winter—but she found the process of handling the dark glass and glazed earthenware soothing.

Even if there was nothing that could cure what ailed him.

She bowed her head and gripped the edge of the stone shelf as the familiar frustration burned through her, dulling, for a moment, even her grief. There was so much she didn’t know when it came to maladies that could afflict the body. So much that was unknowable.

But how she longed to untangle those mysteries.

There was a knock on the door, and she drew in a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. It would never do to allow the servants to believe she’d lost hope.

“Enter.”

The door opened, and Alasdair stood there, and her heart leaped in her chest, smashing against her ribs, even though such a thing was utterly impossible.

But it was scarcely worth chiding herself for the fanciful notion, since fanciful notions had become her constant companions since meeting the charming Campbell.