Page 102 of Taming the Highland Misfits

She stopped halfway up the stairs as the thought struck her. What if he had changed his mind? What if he had simply fallen out of love with her? For a moment, Freya could not move, then she shook her head and forced herself to climb the stairs again. She would not let this defeat her. Somehow she would make Alex tell her what was wrong. After all, she was well known for her stubbornness!

As she reached the top of the stairs, she composed herself and made her way to her chamber. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, pasted a smile on her face, and went in. There she found Caitrin, Mhairi and the seamstress examining the first stages of her wedding dress. She went over to them and examined the creation in its early stages.

“It looks as though it will be beautiful,” she remarked. She did not have to force a note of admiration into her voice, for the seamstress was truly an artist in her field. “I cannot wait to see it finished.”

“Ye will look like a queen, Mistress,” the seamstress said, smiling widely. She was a young woman called Cathy McGuinness, who, even though she was only in her twenties, was highly sought after because of her talent.

“If I do, it will be because of you, Cathy!” Freya laughed as she poured out some ale for all of them. “Your family must be so proud of you.”

Cathy blushed, and her eyes widened in surprise. She was not used to compliments from the ladies she made clothes for, but she had been told that Freya Murdaugh was different. Although she was temperamental, she had a kind heart, and was known to have helped many of her servants and tenants when they were in distress of any kind.

Now the girl accepted her glass of ale and said a timid “Thank ye, Mistress. That is very kind o’ ye. My mother taught me everythin’ I know.”

“Then she must be clever indeed!” Freya remarked.

Cathy grinned in pleasure, then held the dress up for Freya’s inspection. “There is still much work tae be done on it, Mistress,” she told her. “My Mammy is goin’ tae dae some embroidery on it around the neckline.”

The conversation about the dress went on for a long while, but Freya lost interest halfway through, since her mind kept returning to Alex, and wondering whether she would even need this beautiful dress at all. Would there even be a wedding?

17

Freya was not sleeping well. She was beginning to feel permanently exhausted, and looked more and more haggard every day. Half of her food went uneaten too, and the only times she smiled were when Mhairi told her tales about her grandchildren, which were always hilarious.

Her two friends were becoming more and more concerned about her, since she spent much of her time standing watching Alex training instead of reading, riding and pursuing the usual activities that stimulated her mind and body. If there was one thing Freya hated, it was to be inactive, and she had often said that she did not know what it felt like to be bored. That was true. Ever since she was a small child she had been a force of nature whom no one, not even those who loved her, had been able to tame.

At that pont, part from the few hours she spent watching Alex, she was with Mhairi and Caitrin, and had become so desperate that she had actually asked Caitrin to teach her how to do embroidery. Caitrin was an expert at this, and could have done the work on Freya’s wedding dress, but none of them wanted to take away Cathy McGuinness’ employment away from her.

Freya tried valiantly, but she was clumsy, and her heart was not in it, so after a few days she gave up. Caitrin was glad, since she often felt that she was banging her head against a brick wall in trying to teach her anything. Freya could not or would not learn.

One day, after a long ride with Freya in some blustery, rainy weather, Caitrin came into Freya’s little private parlour looking distinctly the worse for wear. Her hair was tousled and tangled, having worked itself out of its usual neat bun, and her cheeks were ruddy and wind-scoured. Although there had not been a downpour, merely a suggestion of a shower, her riding habit was spotted with rain, and she looked angry.

Mhairi immediately rushed over to her and began to help her out of the outer layer of her habit, then, having poured her some ale, she sat down beside her friend. “Did that wee besom take ye out in this weather?” she asked, shaking her head in disbelief. She looked out of the window; the rain had intensified and was now a downpour.

“To be fair, it was not like this when we went out,” Caitrin conceded, “but if we had come back five minutes later, we would both have been drenched to the bone!” She was frowning deeply, and shook her head in frustration.

It had been three days since Freya’s confrontation with Alex, but she had not confided in either Mhairi or Caitrin. Neither of them was fooled, however. They knew that something was terribly wrong; Freya was not a person who stood in one place for very long, as she did when she was watching Alex. It was completely out of character, and the two women were both worried.

“I know what is ailin’ her,” Mhairi said, sighing. “It’s that Alex MacNeill. She has been moonin’ over him for too long. Nae other boy has had a chance.”

“But they are marrying now, are they not?” Caitrin looked puzzled. “Otherwise, why are we having this dress made?”

“Heaven alone knows, hen,” Mhairi replied, shrugging. “As far as I can see he is completely ignorin’ her, an’ she is more hurt an’ sad than I have ever seen her, an’ I have known her since she was just a wee thing.” Mhairi sat down, looking somewhat depressed herself.

“Is it not time we had a word with her?” Caitrin suggested. “She knows that neither of us will breathe a word of anything she tells us outside this room. We really need to know if a wedding is going to take place, because if it is not, then what is the point of making all these preparations?”

Mhairi nodded. “Aye, ye are right, Caitrin,” she agreed. “We are wastin’ our time if we dae a’ this work without needin’ tae. Dae ye think we should have a wee word wi’ her?”

“Do you not think her father should do that?” Caitrin asked doubtfully. “Perhaps we should ask him what he thinks.”

“Dae ye no’ think he knows already?” Mhairi was thoughtful. “Unless she is puttin’ on a brave face in front o’ him.”

The two women sat considering this possibility for a while.

“Why do you think she does not want to tell us about this?” Caitrin asked. “She knows she can trust us to keep quiet.”

“Let us ask her,” Mhairi said firmly. “I am too worried tae wait any longer.”

Caitrin nodded. “It will be a weight off Freya’s mind too,” she declared. “A problem shared is always a problem halved.”