Page 46 of Deceived by the Highlander (Daughters of the Isle #2)

W hen they arrived at Dunochty, Alasdair gave orders for the dead men to be taken to the keep, where they’d stay until he heard back from the earl.

And Colban’s men who, he surmised, were still insensible from Freyja’s potion at the tavern needed to be rounded up.

He just hoped the man Clyde had left there hadn’t been killed.

His immediate concern was informing the earl of what had transpired. But even that urgency faded when he compared it to how very close he’d been to losing Freyja forever.

After he instructed his men, he couldn’t help but watch her, as a visibly upset Jane held her hands while they stood on the forecourt before the castle doors.

Before he’d wed Freyja, it had troubled him that she would feel like an outsider when he brought her to Dunochty.

The way he’d always felt like an outsider, even as a child living in his stepfather’s manor.

He watched her hug Jane, obviously reassuring the other woman she was unharmed, and a strange sense of calm wrapped around his wounded heart. Freyja was not an outsider. She’d made the castle her home, and she’d been accepted for who she was.

And at Dunochty, with Freyja, he’d found the first true home he’d ever known.

But it wasn’t the castle that made him feel he had come home. He knew, now, it didn’t matter where he lived. If Freyja wasn’t also there, then a castle would be nothing more than cold blocks of stone.

He’d returned her birthright to her, and he wouldn’t stop her if she chose the Small Isles over the Highlands.

Over him.

Inside, he would die a little, but if that’s what it took to make her happy, to ensure that, in some way, their marriage could survive, then separate households were a small price to pay.

But before she made that decision, she needed to know what she meant to him.

From almost the first moment he’d met her, she’d told him she preferred the unfortunate truth to pretty lies. And despite his misgivings throughout their marriage, he’d been quietly adamant that he’d never lied to her.

And finally, the words that had eluded him for so long blazed through his mind.

When he reached her side, Jane pulled back, and he gave Dubh a pat in greeting just as Seoc emerged from the castle.

“Thank God ye are all safe,” Seoc said.

Freyja glanced at him before returning her attention to Seoc. “Doubtless bards will compose epic poems about it, and in years to come no one will believe a word of it.”

He knew it was her way of making light of the situation, but the threat of having almost lost her was too raw. “They can mock it all they like. At least it didn’t end in tragedy.”

She shivered. “I’m ashamed my kinsmen behaved so dishonorably. The MacDonalds of Tarnford will not escape justice.”

He knew she was referring to Lady Helga’s brand of justice, and he suspected Colban’s father’s plea of ignorance as to his son’s plans would not be well received.

But that was all secondary.

“Ye’re not to blame for Colban MacDonald’s actions, Freyja.”

An awkward silence fell between them, and he had the urge to take her hand and spirit her away somewhere remote, where they could be alone and not interrupted, but since that was nothing but an impractical fantasy, he wasn’t certain she’d appreciate him dragging her into the castle while Jane and Seoc stood before them.

Seoc cleared his throat. It was clear he wished to be anywhere but there and was preparing an excuse to disappear. “Here, Alasdair, this arrived yesterday.”

The physician thrust a large package at him, and its size and weight meant it could only be the books he’d ordered for Freyja. He grunted his thanks, and with a nod, Seoc took Jane’s arm and they walked across the courtyard to the stables.

Freyja cast the package a curious glance, but didn’t comment on it. For which he was thankful, since he didn’t want to get sidetracked.

Together they entered the castle, and it seemed Freyja was of the same mind as him, as she led the way up the stairs to their chambers.

As they entered the bedchamber, she gave him a bright smile.

But it didn’t reach her eyes, and a pang of despair squeezed his heart at the notion she might never truly smile at him again.

“With all the excitement today, I’m not certain I thanked ye for coming to our rescue. But it’s much appreciated, I assure ye.”

If things weren’t so strained between them, he’d be certain she was mocking him. But despite her polite smile she looked deadly serious, and somehow that was far worse.

“I’m not sure who rescued who. If ye hadn’t decided to follow me after I told ye to return to the castle, I doubt I’d be standing here now.”

The remnants of her smile vanished. “I didn’t even think about the possibility of Lamont having joined Colban’s cause. But of course he would, if he believed Colban would lead him to me.”

Once again, he saw the blade glint against her neck. It was a nightmare he’d never forget. “There’s no reason why ye’d think such a thing. Freyja, I’m proud of how ye put his men to sleep so ye could escape his clutches.”

This time, her small smile didn’t look forced. “Alasdair, if ye think it will help, I’ll write to the earl myself explaining the situation. I’m certain once he understands why ye didn’t answer his summons to go to Edinburgh was because I was abducted, he won’t withhold yer barony.”

They both knew he hadn’t returned to Dunochty because Freyja was in danger.

He’d known nothing of it until he’d reached the castle.

He also knew how easy it would be to twist the truth when explaining things to his half-brother.

Everything had happened so fast, no one would question his version of events.

But it wasn’t the truth, and both he and Freyja knew it. She, who valued the truth over pretty lies, was willing to close her eyes to something she held so dear—for him.

He tried to swallow, but there was a constriction in his throat. If she did this for him, he would never forgive himself for being the reason she had compromised her integrity. Nothing was worth that.

He shook his head. “’Tis kind of ye to offer, but I’ll take my chances. The barony is not that important to me.”

She looked taken aback. “But I know how dearly ye crave it, Alasdair. I should be grieved if I’m the reason why ye don’t achieve yer ambition.”

“Don’t be grieved. I have other ambitions now.”

She didn’t appear to realize he was desperately trying to tell her something completely unconnected to the damn barony.

“I didn’t understand, before. I thought ye had lived a life of privilege as the late earl’s son, and the barony was simply something ye felt due to ye because of yer status. But that’s not the reason, is it?”

Damn Lamont and his scathing words. But Freyja had heard him and there was nothing for it but to tell her the truth.

“There was no reason why Archibald should acknowledge me as his half-brother, when he became earl. I was nothing but an unclaimed bastard. But he did, and aye, I’m grateful for it. But priorities change, Freyja.”

“That’s why ye said no one spits in the face of a baron. I thought it an odd thing to say at the time, but I understand it now, Alasdair. Truly, I do.”

Christ, had he said that to her? Heat crawled through him as he recalled he had, indeed. What the hell had possessed him?

He grunted, unable to hold her gaze and went over to the table to put the heavy package down. And saw the letter from Ranulph, where Freyja had left it. Was it really only yesterday that she had confronted him with it?

Freyja came to his side, and he tried not to breathe in her irresistible scent of roses and rain, but he did, regardless. It took every particle of willpower he possessed not to swing her around, pull her close, and beg her to stay.

He would not beg. He had to give her the choice. But when she didn’t speak, when she merely gazed at the letter on the table, he knew he owed her an explanation as to why he’d concealed Ranulph’s final words from her.

“I should have shared yer grandfather’s letter with ye, Freyja. I know it was written to me, but I’m certain he didn’t expect me to keep it from ye.”

She didn’t look at him as she gently traced her finger over the letter, and then she sighed.

“If I’d read Afi’s letter the day we had wed, I wouldn’t have had all the memories we’ve made together since that day.

I won’t deny I was hurt that yer only reason for going to Rum was to win my hand.

But I’ve had time to think about it all, and I believe our marriage is worth saving, if ye’re of a like mind. ”

She was giving him the second chance he’d so desperately wished for. More than that, it seemed she cherished the memories they shared just as he did.

How easy it would be to agree with her and let the past fade into insubstantial shadows.

But it wasn’t enough. He didn’t want a political alliance, or a wife who believed he had wed her purely because his earl had commanded it.

“’Tis better than keeping secrets and lies for fear of causing offense.”

He’d told her that once. Now it was time to make good on that pledge.

He’d once believed the words he needed to say to her, that showed her how dearly he loved her and needed her by his side, didn’t exist. And maybe they didn’t.

But the words that had eluded him for so long now lurked in the corners of his mind and they weren’t ones that declared his devotion.

Once spoken aloud, he risked losing everything.

Yet there would be no peace, and no chance of redemption, until he confessed.