Page 109 of Taming the Highland Misfits

“Don’t bother with him,” he advised. “You will only hurt your hand. The men will take care of him, and I doubt he will receive much sympathy when they hear what he is being accused of.” He glared at Alex who stared back at him blankly.

By this time, his hands had been bound tightly with coarse twine, and as Freya watched, he was blindfolded and led away. She watched as he shuffled down the corridor then disappeared around a bend, and felt her heart break. Even if he had proved to be a wicked man, she still loved him, and she knew that it would take time for her to banish and forget that love. It would take her even longer to forgive him.

Aidan came over to her after Alex had gone, and reached out his arms to give her a brotherly hug, but Freya pushed him away roughly.

“Do not touch me!” she spat.

Aidan looked somewhat taken aback, then he folded his arms and nodded. “I understand, Freya.” His voice was gentle and sympathetic. “He is a fine figure of a man, and I can see how you fell for him. I see the way many women look at him, but you had a lucky escape. He is quite simply not worthy of you, and he would have made you utterly miserable. You are better off without him.”

Freya was livid with rage, and she moved to within a foot of her brother and grabbed his chin tightly between her finger and thumb and squeezed it painfully. “My attraction to Alex was not based on his looks, you dolt!” she spat. “He was kind to me, and he treated me with respect and generosity–unlike you. Donotpresume to tell me what is good for me. You of all people do not have the right!”

“I am only trying to be a good brother to you,” Aidan protested, pulling his chin out of her grasp.

“Bearnard is a good brother,” Freya informed him. “You are merely Gerald Patterson’s flunky. Get out of my sight, Aidan. I cannot bear to look at you anymore.”

Freya watched Aidan turn on his heel and walk over to talk to Patterson, who flicked a venomous glance at Freya as they spoke. Then they walked away quickly, no doubt to gloat over Alex’s fate. At that moment, Freya hated her brother.

She trudged slowly back to her chamber, hoping that Mhairi and Caitrin had gone out. Thankfully, the room was empty, and she took advantage of their absence to pour herself a glass of wine from the bottle she had been sharing with her two friends.

She downed it in two gulps, then poured another, which she sipped more slowly. Freya had hoped the wine would soothe her raging spirit a little, but it seemed to make things worse. She thought of Alex trapped downstairs in a filthy dungeon and told herself it was what he deserved. After all, she was not in love with him anymore, was she?

She burst into tears and cried until she had no tears left.

20

Mhairi and Caitrin were becoming more and more worried about Freya. She spent much of her time staring out of the window, in a world of her own. Her morning rides were a thing of the past. Moreover, the baths which she had hitherto enjoyed, lying in them until the water grew cold, were now perfunctory affairs that she endured just long enough to clean herself.

She left her choice of clothes to Mhairi, donning whatever her maid chose for her. Since she never left her room, it hardly mattered what she wore anyway.

Freya was losing weight, despite both Caitrin and Mhairi’s attempts to coax her to eat with her favourite foods, such as salmon, cheese, fruit and nuts. She would nibble on something for a few moments then discard it.

Freya was having yet another meal in bed, or rather Mhairi had brought her a tray of breakfast, of which she had eaten a couple of morsels and then pushed away untasted. Mhairi usually gave this uneaten food to the stable boys, but after a week, she was becoming so accustomed to doing it that she commented dryly that she might as well bypass Freya altogether and give it to them immediately.

Mhairi had run another bath for Freya, and had poured some rose oil into it. That was a fragrance she loved above all other scents, and Mhairi had hoped it would tempt her to lie in the bath for a while longer so that she would relax and think about pleasant things. However, this, like everything else she had tried, was a waste of time.

“What dae ye think we should dae?” she asked Caitrin wearily, looking at Freya’s drawn face. “She has been like this since they took Alex away, an’ I am worried that she is goin’ tae starve herself tae death. Look how thin she is.”

Caitrin frowned as she gazed at her friend. “We have both tried talking to her,” she observed, “but nothing seems to be coaxing her to come out of her shell. Should we speak to her father? I think we have waited long enough.” Her expression was anxious as she gazed at Freya, who was once more staring out of the window at nothing.

“Aye, but he is always busy.” Mhairi sounded angry.

“Too busy for his own daughter?” Caitrin also sounded contemptuous. “Then he should be ashamed of himself.”

“He hasnae seen her for over a week,” Mhairi agreed. “He hasnae seen how thin she is, an’ how sad. Caitrin, we must get him up here, an’ make them talk tae each other.”

Caitrin nodded in agreement. “We must go together,” she suggested. “We will make more of an impression that way. Anyway,” she smiled at Mhairi, “we make a good team.”

“That we dae,” Mhairi replied with an affectionate smile.

The two women looked sadly at Freya, who was still gazing out of the window. “I wonder what she is thinking about?” Caitrin mused.

“I can tell ye that in two words,” Mhairi said grimly. “Alex MacNeill.”

* * *

Mhairi was right in her assumption that Freya was thinking about Alex. She had been staring out of the window, seeing nothing and thinking about nothing else but him for the last week. Her food tasted like ashes, and she was barely eating and drinking enough to stay alive.

It was raining cats and dogs outside, but the weather could not have possibly made Freya any more miserable than she was already. She could not bear to think of Alex downstairs in the dark and filth of the dungeons, eating God alone knew what and sitting in a cramped cell with no heat and very little light.