Page 5 of Deceived by the Highlander (Daughters of the Isle #2)

F reyja MacDonald smiled at him, and Alasdair couldn’t tear his gaze from her. He was still reeling from the revelation that this vision was his intended bride.

He’d resigned himself to wedding Ranulph’s granddaughter and had certainly been intrigued to know Freyja was Isolde’s sister.

But nothing had prepared him for the woman herself.

Damn, she wasn’t simply a beauty who ignited his lust. She made him laugh.

And that was something he’d never expected his future wife would do.

The prospect of marriage was no longer merely a strategy he had no option but to undertake. It was something to look forward to.

“Here.” Freyja interrupted his thoughts, her hands reaching for him, and for a mad moment he thought she meant to take him in her arms. Until he realized she reached for the puppies.

“Huh.” He glanced down at them, although all he could see were the tops of their heads, wrapped as they were in strips of blanket. An inexplicable tug of warmth heated his chest at the sight of the helpless wee creatures. “Are they out of danger now?”

“We’ve given them a good chance, and that’s all we can do.

” She carefully extracted one of the pups from him, her fingers brushing against him, and lust roared through his blood at the contact.

If it wasn’t so damned inconvenient, it would be funny.

Since when did the merest touch of a woman’s hand cause him to half lose his mind?

The answer kneeled beside him, as she placed the pup by the heated waterbags next to its sibling, before she retrieved the second pup he held. And as she turned her attention to Ban, a deep sense of satisfaction settled through him.

It would be no hardship to woo her, if Ranulph continued to be stubborn. What was more, Freyja was refreshingly practical and would surely see the advantages in such an alliance.

’Tis better than secrets and lies. His lighthearted comment echoed in his mind, and unease flickered through him as he recalled her retort.

Except he wasn’t lying to her, nor did he intend to. But even if his half-brother hadn’t commanded him to keep this business close to his chest, he could hardly tell her of the earl’s plan when they’d only just met. He was under no illusion she wouldn’t hesitate to tell him to go to hell.

All he needed was a few days to win her favor. With luck, Ranulph would change his stance and have his back when he saw how committed he was in securing his granddaughter’s happiness, but one thing was certain: He would not leave the Isle of Rum until Freyja had promised to be his bride.

*

It was late in the afternoon when they left the stables and made their way to the stronghold.

The dog had delivered six puppies in all, and the unexpected tug of warmth that had assailed him when he’d held two of them still lingered deep inside.

’Twas an odd thing, and yet he couldn’t deny its existence.

Almost as though he’d helped to deliver a prized foal.

“Well.” Freyja gave him a sideways glance with a smile that was already feeling enjoyably familiar. “That was a productive day, although I’m sure ye’ve never had one like it before.”

“Ye’re not wrong. But I can’t say it wasn’t enjoyable, thanks to the company.”

“’Tis kind of ye. I’ll be sure to pass on yer compliment to Ban when I next check on her.”

“I’m sure she’ll be thankful for it.” He caught Freyja’s glance and grinned when she rolled her eyes at him. “What?”

“’Tis very odd for a strange man to accept my comments without trying to...” she paused for a moment, as though contemplating her words, “correct them.”

“I can’t be that strange anymore. We just spent hours together in a stable.”

“I happen to think ye’re very strange indeed.”

“If ye’re attempting to insult me, ye’ll need to try harder. I’ve been called far worse than that in my time.”

Her lips twitched as though she was trying not to laugh. “Ye can take it as a compliment if ye wish.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh. “If ye insist.”

The jet-black terrier that had been in the stable with them raced up to the doors of the stronghold before swinging about and darting back to Freyja’s heels, its tongue hanging out as it gazed up at her in evident adoration.

She came to a standstill and crouched down, tickling the dog’s throat. “Aye, ye’re a very good lad indeed, Dubh. We’ll go on the beach to stretch yer legs shortly.”

Amused, he glanced at her as they once again continued walking. “Apt name.”

“I don’t see what else he could be called, do ye?” She sighed and shook her head. “My sisters both tried to persuade me to pick something fancier, but between ye and me, I’d feel foolish calling him anything else. Besides, I’m certain he likes it.”

He was certain the dog didn’t give a damn what he was called, but he had to agree no name could suit it better. “I like it.”

“Well, that’s a relief, for I doubt he’d take kindly to me changing his name after more than ten years.”

He smothered another grin as he held the door open, and together they entered the great hall, where Ranulph was once again sitting by the fireside.

“Afi,” Freyja said as she went to his side and wrapped her arms about him. “How are ye? Roisin sends her love.”

Alasdair stood at the other end of the hearth as Ranulph responded to his granddaughter. It was plain the old man adored her, and he dropped his gaze to his boots, feeling suddenly like an intruder.

He wasn’t used to witnessing such displays of affection between family members.

God knew, he’d never experienced it in his own divided family.

His mother had scarcely acknowledged his existence, and his stepfather had considered a roof over his head more than enough compensation for the temerity of having been born.

“Miles tells me ye tended to Banphrionsa,” Ranulph said. “Is she well? What of the puppies?”

He gave a wry smile at Ban’s full name. Princess. Aye, the hound was certainly treated like royalty.

“She did a grand job and is the proud dam of six. But ye must thank yer guest for that, Afi. If Alasdair Campbell hadn’t arrived when he did, I fear I would’ve lost two of the puppies.”

Ranulph eyed him. It was impossible to guess his thoughts. “Must I, indeed. If my granddaughter says it is true, then I believe her. How fortunate for ye, Alasdair.”

Somehow, he felt compelled to defend himself, since it was obvious Ranulph thought the worst of him.

“I heard the dog howl and entered the stables but had no idea Lady Freyja was already attending to her.”

“Why would ye know that before ye saw me?” Freyja shot a questioning glance between him and her grandfather. “Why is that fortunate, Afi? I feel I’m missing something.”

“’Tis fortunate he helped and didn’t hinder ye in any way.”

“Ye’re talking in riddles.” There was a hint of exasperation in her voice, but he heard the edge of concern, too, and inexplicably a flicker of guilt ate through him. “I’ll prepare ye a soothing tea to calm yer mind.”

Ranulph gave an unexpected laugh and held onto her hand. But he spoke to Alasdair.

“I wager ye’ve learned already that my granddaughter is a canny lass.

” Then he turned to Freyja, who looked understandably bemused by her grandfather’s remarks.

Alasdair hoped the old man wasn’t going to spill the real reason why he’d traveled to Rum just yet.

He was certain Freyja wouldn’t appreciate it.

“My mind is fine, Frey. I don’t need one of yer calming teas.

But I wouldn’t say no to a cup of yer special willow bark. No one makes it like ye do.”

After another doubtful glance in his direction, as though she somehow thought he was to blame for her grandfather’s request, she nodded. “Very well. I’ll be back directly.”

He watched her walk across the hall and disappear through the door at the far end before returning his attention to Ranulph, who was regarding him with narrowed eyes.

“I take it ye didn’t discuss the earl’s idea with my granddaughter, did ye?”

“I did not.”

“At least ye possess some sense, then.” For some reason, Ranulph appeared to find that fact amusing. “Ye couldn’t have picked a better way to have her look kindly upon ye, than by helping her with Ban.”

Although he believed it, he was also irked by Ranulph’s insinuation. “I didn’t know she was Lady Freyja until yer steward came into the stables. I was helping out regardless.”

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth, either. He’d been captivated by her, long before he discovered who she was, and that was why he’d crouched in the straw and tended to two newborn pups. Would he have done the same if she’d been a stable lad?

It was possible, but he suspected he may have gone outside and hailed a maid to assist, instead. Not that he intended on telling her grandfather that. He had the feeling Ranulph would find fault in it.

And he knew, without a doubt, that Freyja would.

“Keep yer counsel, lad, and so will I. We’ll see where fate leads my Frey.”

Alasdair inclined his head. Aye, he’d keep his counsel for now. But he wasn’t leaving the outcome of his future in the fickle hands of fate. When the time was right, he’d do everything in his power to win Freyja MacDonald and Kilvenie Tower.

And by doing so, earn the right to be laird of Dunochty Castle.