Page 34 of Deceived by the Highlander (Daughters of the Isle #2)
F reyja had the feeling she should be more enthusiastic about the visit of Colban and his cousin.
They were a link to home, but the truth was Colban just made her uncomfortable.
She couldn’t forget the way he’d looked at her the last time she’d seen him on Eigg, when he’d asked her to accompany him to visit her grandfather.
Or the quickly masked flash of anger when she’d refused.
Well, if her sisters and Amma were right and he had ever harbored the wish to wed her, that was all in the past now. Maybe she was being unfair to him, and the only reason he’d come to Dunochty was to extend his best wishes upon her marriage.
Aye, she wanted to believe it. Why was it so hard to convince herself?
A few minutes ago, Alasdair had found her in her gardens, and now they were in the great hall as Colban and Peter made their way towards them.
She fixed a welcoming smile on her face, since as the mistress of the castle that was expected of her, but all she could think was they’d left it so late to visit that she’d have to offer them hospitality for the night.
After the greetings and introductions to Alasdair were done, Colban once again took her hand. His presumption irked her more than it should, and she feared her smile dripped icicles.
Not that he noticed. “Lady Freyja, may I say ye look radiant. Marriage clearly agrees with ye.”
Was that his idea of a compliment? She had the enticing urge to tell him it wasn’t marriage that made her radiant. It was the fact Alasdair was her husband.
She suspected Colban wouldn’t appreciate the differentiation. But since an answer was expected, she said, “Thank ye, Colban. Ye are looking well yerself.”
“’Tis kind of ye to say so.” He nodded somewhat sagely. And still didn’t relinquish her hand.
“Well,” she said, while her fingers itched to slap his hand. “Ye and Peter must certainly stay for supper. ’Tis all but ready to be served, and we should be happy to have ye.”
“We should be honored,” Colban said.
With more force than she intended, she pulled her hand free, and then to cover up her lack of etiquette, she turned and gave Alasdair a bright smile. “What a delightful surprise this is, to be sure.”
The expression on Alasdair’s face suggested he was bemused by her behavior, so she focused on Peter, who so far had barely said a word. “I trust ye and Colban will stay the night?”
“If it’s not too much trouble, my lady.” Peter inclined his head.
“Not at all.” She glanced at Morag, who gave a discreet nod at her unspoken message to pass the news onto Sine before she returned her attention to Colban. “Now ye must tell me all the news from the Isles.”
*
Usually Freyja enjoyed suppertime, when she and Alasdair would share details of their day with each other, and since Jane and Seoc often joined them, it was a lively discussion.
But tonight, she couldn’t shift the uneasy suspicion that beneath his charming manners and benign smile, Colban was raging. Which was really quite absurd. It wasn’t as though he’d ever asked for her hand and she’d refused him, which would at least give him cause to be offended.
For all she knew, that notion had never crossed his mind, and she was letting her sisters—and especially Roisin’s—opinions affect her good sense.
She squashed her misgivings and gave him her most engaging smile. “Tell me, Colban, have ye been in the Highlands ever since we last saw each other at Sgur?”
She couldn’t imagine why he’d spend so long away from his castle on Islay. It had been weeks ago that they’d last spoken.
“I haven’t,” he said. “I stayed with Peter for a week before returning home, when I learned of the sad news about Ranulph. Allow me to offer ye my condolences, Lady Freyja.”
“Thank ye. I miss him greatly.”
Colban nodded before looking at Alasdair. “’Tis a fine castle ye have here, Alasdair.”
“Aye. Dunochty has been in the Earl of Argyll’s family for over two hundred years.”
“A noble bloodline,” Peter remarked.
Freyja picked up her goblet and took a sip of wine. The conversation was all very civilized. Why, then, couldn’t she shift this troubling sense of foreboding?
*
Later that night, as the sun sank beyond the western horizon, Freyja and Alasdair strolled from the courtyard to the stables as Dubh chased shadows, and a solitary owl hooted in the distance.
Alasdair tugged her close, and she leaned her head against him as his familiar scent of worn leather and wild woodlands wrapped around her like a sensual caress.
“I was led to believe ye were a friend of Colban MacDonald. That’s how he got through the gate.”
She sighed. She knew she hadn’t managed to hide her conflicted feelings from Alasdair.
“We are old family friends. I’ve known him all my life.” Should she tell him of her sisters’ suspicions? It seemed unfair when there was no evidence to support it, especially since Alasdair might not take kindly to the notion.
“I know ye, Freyja, and there were things ye wanted to say but held back. That’s not like ye.”
She laughed and patted his chest. “Ye know me that well, do ye? Well, I’ll tell ye this. I’m trying to curb my impulsive nature, now that I’m mistress of such a grand castle. I should be grieved if my unwary tongue ever embarrassed ye.”
“There’s nothing ye could say that would embarrass me.” He sounded amused by the idea. “But my comment stands. Ye’ve known Colban all yer life and yet something feels amiss. If the man’s done anything to upset ye, let me know and I’ll throw him out of the castle myself.”
She shook her head, inordinately delighted that Alasdair did, indeed, know her so well. “’Tis nothing, Alasdair, truly. Colban has only ever been a friend, and although I confess I sometimes found his comments irksome, I don’t believe he meant any harm.”
“That’s generous. I believe if ye found my comments irksome, ye’d waste no time in telling me so.”
“But of course. Ye’re Alasdair Campbell.
I care what ye think of me.” She kept her voice light, so he might think she was jesting.
But she wasn’t. She cared deeply what he thought of her.
And ever since she’d faced the fact, two weeks ago, that she had fallen irrevocably in love with her own husband, one question had gnawed incessantly in the back of her mind.
Does he love me?
“Huh. I’m not certain I follow yer thoughts here, but since it appears ye’re looking upon me in a favorable light, I shall let it pass.”
“A wise decision.”
“The wisest decision I ever made was in wedding ye.”
Warmth curled around her heart, and she wound her arm around him. “Then we are in perfect accord. How did Afi know we would be so right for each other?”
His arm tightened around her, but he didn’t answer straight away, and she stifled a sigh.
Alasdair was truly everything she’d never known she wanted in a man, and she couldn’t imagine life without him.
But although he was most attentive and often asked her if she had everything she required for her comfort, it didn’t necessarily follow that he felt the same way about her as she did about him.
She should change the subject. They were married, and at the end of the day it made no difference to their situation if Alasdair thought they were perfect for each other or not.
Why was she so hung up on that? Did she really want to force the issue and risk him telling her something she didn’t want to hear?
A sane woman would leave it well alone. It was the advice she would’ve given if asked. At least, it was before she’d fallen for Alasdair.
’Twas no good. If she didn’t press him for an answer, she’d end up stewing about it. He was certainly right that when something was on her mind, she generally had to say it out loud.
Ah well. She’d always lived by the maxim that it was better to know the unvarnished truth than a pretty lie.
“Do ye think we are right for each other, Alasdair?”
“How can ye ask me such a thing? Ye’re the only woman I’ve ever wanted for my wife.”
It was a good answer. She smiled as twilight spread across the land, but her incessant need for clarity wouldn’t be appeased. “And if Afi hadn’t blindsided us both with his wish for us to wed, ye’re certain ye would still have asked for my hand?”
“I’ve told ye already. Ye spellbound me from the moment I saw ye in the stables. What is this about, Freyja? Do ye doubt how deeply I admire and respect ye?”
A strange little pain squeezed her heart. She knew he admired and respected her, and that was not a small thing. It was enough to build a strong marriage upon.
But how she longed for more. How she longed for him to say I love ye.
She tipped back her head and he captured her lips in a kiss that seared her to her very soul. When he pulled back, his hot breath dusted her cheeks, and he traced a calloused fingertip along her jaw.
“Do ye?” His voice was raw with passion and a shiver of pleasure raced through her.
“No,” she whispered. “I don’t doubt it, Alasdair.”
“I’d do anything to make ye happy.”
“I am happy,” she assured him, and it was the truth. If his precious earl himself appeared from the shadows and offered her the chance to return to Sgur, she’d turn him down. She knew where she wanted to be, and it was by Alasdair’s side.