Page 33 of Deceived by the Highlander (Daughters of the Isle #2)

T rue to his word, Alasdair arrived back home within ten days after he’d left.

Freyja waited at the doors to the castle, ready to greet him, anticipation thudding through her.

How she’d missed his smile and the sound of his voice, and the way her heart leaped in her chest whenever she caught sight of him at odd moments throughout the day.

The bed was far too large within him by her side.

Alasdair and his men rode into the courtyard, and he leaped from his horse and made his way to her. Heedless of decorum, she opened her arms and hugged him tight, and he clearly didn’t give a fig for appearances either, since he lifted her from her feet and swung her around.

She laughed and smacked his arm as he carefully placed her on solid ground. “’Tis good to be home,” he said.

“’Tis good to have ye home.” And then she was distracted by the appearance of a wagon, and a couple standing some distance from them. The man was wearing a long, dark robe, and a thread of foreboding inched through her.

She knew of only one type of man who wore such robes. But surely Alasdair hadn’t brought a physician here? Yet why wouldn’t he? Dunochty and its estate was too prestigious not to have a physician, and her good mood evaporated as trepidation crawled through her like a poisoned fog.

But she knew her duty and so she fixed an enquiring smile on her face and inclined her head in the strangers’ direction.

“Freyja, I’ve invited Seoc Erskine to meet ye.

He’s a physician who studied at that college in London.

” Excitement vibrated through every word, and her face started to ache from the effort of keeping a smile upon it.

The truth was that his insensitivity hurt.

He knew how little the medical profession regarded women in general and those who practiced the healing arts in particular.

Or did he? Maybe he’d forgotten Lamont’s caustic remarks. A part of her hoped he had, since Lamont had been so derogatory towards her. But a tiny sliver, deep inside, grieved that Alasdair clearly considered Lamont’s disregard for her of little consequence.

“Indeed,” she said. She was the mistress of a grand castle, and she wouldn’t let Alasdair down by betraying her true feelings.

“I’ve a notion ye’ll be happily impressed,” he said, as he led her over to Seoc Erskine. “But if ye’re not, I shall send him and his wife on their way.”

She shot him a sharp glance but there was no time to reply as Alasdair made the introductions, and Seoc Erskine and his wife said all the right things. To be sure, Seoc made no condescending remark, but then again, he didn’t know she was a healer, yet.

“Ye’ve arrived just in time for dinner,” she said. “I’ll ensure extra places are laid for ye both.”

“That’s very kind, my lady,” his wife, Jane, said. She looked a few years older than Freyja and had a quiet air of confidence about her, and when she crouched down to welcome Dubh, Freyja had the feeling she and Jane could easily become friends.

As they made their way into the castle, Seoc said, “My lady, forgive me for being so forward, but Alasdair tells me ye are a renowned healer. If circumstances permit, I should be honored if ye’d share yer wisdom with us.”

Startled, she glanced at him, but he didn’t appear to be mocking her. In fact, both he and his wife smiled at her in apparent admiration.

Well, Alasdair said she’d be happily impressed, but she was more taken aback than anything else. But if Seoc Erskine was genuinely interested in learning more about the ancient wisdom she had inherited from her foremothers, she expected something in return.

“I’d be happy to, if ye’re willing to share insights ye learned from the royal college.”

“Nothing would please me more.” He sounded as though he meant it. If this was the type of man the royal college was producing, she was frankly staggered.

“There’s nothing Seoc loves more than discussing the latest medical innovations.” Jane gave her husband a fond glance as they entered the hall before looking back at Freyja. “I fear ye may have to be quite firm when ye want him to stop talking about it, my lady.”

“I’m not easily offended,” Seoc said. “I know I’m obsessed and thank God every day that I married a woman who shares my vision.”

Freyja dragged her stunned gaze from Seoc to his wife. “Ye are also a healer?”

“I am, my lady. Alas, I couldn’t enter the college, but with Seoc’s tutelage I believe I could not have learned more even had I graced those hallowed halls.”

There was a touch of wryness in her last words and Freyja flashed her a genuine smile. “I’ve always said there should be a college for women to attend.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Jane said. “Alas, I cannot see it ever happening, though.”

“If the royal college is producing physicians such as yer husband, then I think there is hope for us yet.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, my lady, but I fear Seoc is one of a kind. His compatriots are generally quite rigid in their beliefs.”

Ah well, she supposed that dream was too good to be true. She caught Sine’s eye, who came over to her. “We have two guests, Sine. Please ensure the west chambers are made ready for them.”

*

It wasn’t until that night, when Freyja and Alasdair retired to their bedchamber, that they were finally alone to talk. She grabbed his hands and shook her head in mock disbelief.

“Alasdair Campbell, where on God’s green earth did ye ever find such a pair? My head is still spinning from our conversations.”

He gave her a smug grin, which she found utterly delightful.

“Does this mean ye’re willing for Seoc to settle at Dunochty?”

“I am. And what’s more, I’m enthralled with his wife. Ye are a very clever man, Alasdair.”

“To be fair,” he said, “Seoc was at Castle Campbell seeking recommendations. ’Twas only by the sheerest of good luck our paths crossed.”

“How noble of ye not to remind me how I didn’t wish ye to answer the earl’s summons last week.” She went onto her toes and gave him a teasing kiss. “I suppose ’tis only fair that I forgive the earl for disrupting our trip to see Isolde and William. Although I hope he doesn’t make a habit of it.”

“He wishes to meet ye when he returns from Edinburgh. After all, ye’re his half-sister-by-marriage, now.”

“Ooh,” she said, unable to dredge up the enthusiasm Alasdair clearly expected by his comment. The Earl of Argyll, whoever he happened to be, wasn’t, after all, universally admired on the Small Isles. “Lucky me.”

He laughed at that and tugged her close. “Come here, wife. I’m the one who’s lucky, and I’ll never forget it.”

She wound her arms around his neck, and her eyes drifted shut as he nibbled kisses along her throat.

He often said how lucky he was that he’d found her, but she knew the truth: She was the lucky one.

What were the chances that the only man she had ever wanted had come to Rum and somehow managed to gain her grandfather’s deepest respect?

A respect that had caused him to bind them together in a deathbed wish.

And Alasdair had embraced it all, without a single word of reproach.

Aye, she was lucky indeed, and happier than she’d ever imagined she could be away from her beloved Sgur. Because she was with Alasdair.

The man I love.

*

It had been another long day of poring over the finances of Dunochty and ensuring the estate continued to prosper.

Even when Alasdair’s stepfather was still alive, the task of bookkeeping had fallen to him, although he’d not been privy to the actual disbursement of the manor’s small income until two years ago, and he was thankful for the grounding it had given him.

He leaned back in the chair and rolled his shoulders as his gaze roved around the private chamber where he undertook the business of running the castle.

A cabinet was along one wall, and hanging next to it was the portrait of a woman in profile.

He had no idea who she was, but the likelihood she was a Campbell ancestor of his on his father’s side was high.

There were several portraits scattered throughout the castle, another visible aspect of the prestige of Dunochty. But this particular one, for a reason he couldn’t fathom, irked him.

She seemed to be watching him.

Damn it, what was wrong with him? He was the laird of the castle. He could move the painting somewhere else. And then an idea struck him: He’d commission Freyja’s portrait, and hang it in here, where he could feast his eyes upon her likeness whenever he pleased.

He grinned at the prospect. How would she react to the notion? He had no idea, but he was determined to persuade her.

There was still some time before supper, and he decided to go for a ride. It would clear his head and stretch his cramped limbs.

As he left the castle and strolled across the forecourt on his way to the stables, Seoc joined him. The physician had only arrived two weeks ago, and yet he’d settled into the fabric of their life so well, it seemed he’d always been around.

“Do ye have time for a ride?” Alasdair asked.

If anyone had told him a month ago that he’d one day consider a physician a friend, he would’ve laughed at them.

Yet here he was. But more than that, Freyja was happy with him, and as an additional bonus she and Jane had become close over their mutual love of the healing arts.

“That would be a godsend.” Seoc exhaled a long sigh. “Jane is forever telling me I need more fresh air.”

Alasdair laughed. He’d never met a man of learning before who spoke so easily and with such affection about his wife. Seoc didn’t appear to care if other men found his devotion unusual.

William didn’t, either. And with every day that passed, Alasdair’s secret fear that his father’s disregard would somehow cause an insurmountable gulf between himself and Freyja faded a little more.

Even though she’d never mentioned it, he’d convinced himself that in her eyes, he was worthy of her because of his father’s bloodline. She’d met his mother, but she didn’t need to know the grim reality of his childhood or how hard he’d fought to gain Archibald’s trust.

That was in the past. All he cared about was the future he and Freyja would share, and God willing, any bairns they might have.

He’d never believed it possible to be so content, nor filled with such pride whenever Freyja smiled at him or made one of her blunt remarks.

He knew she’d been reluctant to leave Sgur, but she’d made her home at Dunochty, and now her gardens were planted and Jane had arrived, an air of happiness surrounded her.

He couldn’t imagine life without her brightening every moment of his existence.

For the first time in his life, a thread of sorrow at his half-brother’s life flickered through him.

Archibald, the trueborn son of the late earl, who had received every honor his status demanded from the moment of his birth, and the respect of all of Argyll because of his bloodline.

But one thing Archibald had never found was the kind of delight in his own marriage that Alasdair had with Freyja.

Seoc grasped his shoulder. “I almost forgot. I had a letter today from my colleague at the royal college. He has a contact and is hopeful of acquiring a copy of The Fabrica. But it will likely cost a little more than I anticipated.”

“That’s grand news. And I’ll pay whatever the cost is.” The price, however steep, was negligible when he imagined how thrilled she’d be when she unwrapped the mighty tomes.

“Alasdair.” One of the men who had joined him after arriving at Oban hailed him, and Alasdair swung on his heel and went to meet him.

“What is it, man?”

“Visitors at the gate. Colban MacDonald of Tarnford Castle on the Isle of Islay and his cousin Peter MacDonald. They say they’re friends of Lady Freyja.”

Where had he heard the name Colban MacDonald before? He was certain Freyja had never mentioned the man to him. And then he remembered. William had spoken of him in passing, and although Alasdair didn’t know what had transpired between the two men, it was obvious William thought little of him.

But they were from the Small Isles and knew Freyja. It was unthinkable that he should turn them away, despite the late hour they’d arrived. “Let them enter,” he said. “I’ll find Lady Freyja.”

His ride would need to wait until the morning.