Chapter 20

20

E mily was seething.

Since they had arrived back that morning, she had avoided all contact with Adam and anyone else from his family. Returning to her room, still wearing the soaked dress that he had bought her, she had half a mind to throw the thing into the fire.

Olivia had been kind and attentive, helping her to remove it. She could not get it off quickly enough.

Freya had knocked on her door to see if she was well, but Emily did not want to speak to anyone. She had no intention of eating with the family.

Perhaps it was childish, but she had meant what she said. She would prefer not to see Adam again until the day of the wedding. Olivia had, therefore, dutifully delivered her supper to her room as she requested.

Emily should have been relieved to be separated from them all, but she was dismayed by the resulting melancholy that consumed her.

I dinnae care if he eats without me, she told herself. He probably is rejoicin' at me absence.

But it was no use. She felt miserable.

She pushed the meat sullenly around her plate. Her appetite had dwindled to almost nothing, and she found that she could not eat anything at all.

Her mood only darkened further as she purposefully avoided thinking of Adam, and her mind just conjured up images of her family instead. She could almost see them within the leaping flames as she went to sit by the fire. Her chest ached.

I wonder if Bruce and Faither are both sittin' beside a fireplace, just as I am doin' now. I wonder if they are thinkin' of me.

She hoped that Adam was right and Bruce had not done anything foolish.

The weather outside her window was damp and unpleasant. Humidity clung to the air and made her skin feel clammy. Her father hated the rain and would likely be complaining about the recent storm. Emily wished he were with her; she longed for someone familiar to talk to.

I wonder what Faither would think of Adam if he had a chance to meet him.

Her feelings for the Laird were growing increasingly confusing, and she was unable to dismiss them as easily as she had before. Having seen his caring side, it was difficult to demonize the man who had dismissed her so cruelly that morning. She knew there was a good person beneath the surface, which only made his treatment of her more puzzling.

Shame simmered beneath her skin as she remembered their time in the lodge. Why had she not refused him? She should never have allowed him to touch her in that way.

What if that was all he wanted—to have her when he chose and cast her aside as soon as he had to deal with something more important?

The idea alone made her sink lower in her chair.

Does he even want me? He didnae this mornin'. We were "keepin' each other warm," after all.

The memory of those words cut as deeply as it had before. What a cruel statement. Emily was now certain he had lain with other women before. He seemed to have no interest in being kind or gentlemanly to her the morning after.

What would me maither think?

The whole affair had left her feeling as though his scent was still around her. She scratched at her skin, wishing she could take another bath.

She stared at the dancing flames before her and forced herself to sit up. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head.

I am nae goin' to let a man make me feel this way . I am better than him.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was not yet ten in the evening. Freya had told her that she was welcome in the library at any time—and her mind was too active to sleep. Distracting it with a diverting story sounded like the perfect end to a miserable day.

Emily left her room and wandered to the door that Theo had shown her. Perhaps if she got lost in the corridors beneath the castle, she might find a secret route out and under the woods. A smile spread across her face at the improbable thought. Exploring might be just what she needed to take her mind off things.

Opening the heavy door, she set off through the winding passages.

The first exit she reached opened into the dining hall. The supper dishes had been cleared, and the table was bare, apart from a small plate of bannocks that remained. Checking to ensure she was alone, she tiptoed inside and stole a few for her journey.

Feeling like a child on a forbidden mission for a midnight feast, she returned to the hidden door and continued down the passage. It was soothing to be somewhere so devoid of people. She was not observed by servants or likely to be interrupted. She dawdled happily, munching on her biscuits and allowing her mood to slowly improve.

It was only the second door that she came across that admitted her to the library. Emily was delighted to find that she had pitched up at the back of the room near Freya's little den. She closed the door with a quiet click, ready to bury herself in a book, when someone let out a shriek of alarm.

Emily almost jumped out of her skin as Freya leaped out from behind one of the bookshelves, armed with a heavy atlas. She lowered it hastily when she saw who it was.

"I thought ye were a burglar!" Freya whispered. "How did ye find yer way here?" She peered behind Emily, raising her eyebrows. "Did ye come through the rear passages?" she asked, sounding impressed. "I have never been able to navigate those tunnels. I've always thought there must be a beast living in them somewhere."

Emily chuckled. "Nay beasts that I have seen, but I did find some bannocks."

Freya's eyes lit up as Emily handed her the last one, and she chewed on it happily as Emily stepped further into the room.

"What are ye doin' here so late?" she asked as Freya returned the atlas to the shelves.

"Like I said, nay one else comes into this library. Since me faither died, it hasnae been tended to at all. I am sortin' out the books. They are a terrible mess." Freya's brown eyes turned curious. "What are ye doin' here? Ye werenae at dinner. I was worried."

Emily pursed her lips, not wishing to divulge what had happened with Adam. She shrugged. "I couldnae sleep."

"Did somethin' happen with me braither?" Freya asked uncertainly, her face full of concern. "He was insufferable at dinner—wouldnae speak to anyone. He shouted at the servants, which is very unlike him."

Emily frowned, feeling oddly relieved that Adam's mood had not improved in the company of others.

"I dinnae ken," she muttered.

Freya snorted. "He went out lookin' for ye, and ye didnae return until this mornin'. Where did ye stay through the night?"

Emily eyed her warily. "There is a huntin' lodge in the forest. When the horse bolted, he took us there, so we had a dry place to sleep."

"It was a terrible storm. I am glad ye werenae out in the downpour." Freya cocked her head with a sly smile. "Was he a gentleman?"

Hah! Chance'd be a fine thing.

"Of course," Emily said softly and knew from Freya's skeptical look that she didn't believe her.

"If he's bein' a bastard, ye can tell me. I shallnae have him mistreatin' me friends."

Emily shook her head. "Dinnae turn on yer family for anyone, Freya," she said grimly. "They're all ye have." Her voice cracked on the words, and Freya's gaze filled with sympathy.

"James Stewart will be dealt with soon, and ye'll be able to see yer braither and faither again," she said kindly.

"Aye, well, it cannae come soon enough."

"Would ye like to help me with the books to take yer mind off things?" Freya asked. "I can bore ye with me knowledge of how to organize a library."

Emily chuckled, looking up at the endless shelves. The idea of helping to sort out a jumble of old books appealed to her even more than reading one, and she nodded.

The two women set about the task. Freya's passion for the library sparked enthusiasm in Emily, distracting her from thoughts of Adam. She chattered constantly about nothing at all, yet everything she said was explained in a way that drew Emily in.

She was a natural storyteller and relished talking about adventures she'd shared with her family. Eventually, the topic turned to Laura and their time together. Freya clearly adored her sister and was devastated by her absence and how James had treated her.

"She was always who I was closest to," she said as Emily handed her the third dictionary to be placed on the shelves. "Laura could stand up to me maither a lot better than anyone else, even Adam. She wouldnae let her talk down to anyone. Maither has been much worse since Faither passed."

"Lady MacNiall spoke a little of yer faither when she showed me her chambers. Has she been in mournin' for a long time?"

"He died over two years ago," Freya said, but her expression was hard to read. She sighed. "He was away so often, I didnae feel a great deal when he died. I feel guilty for saying it, but it's true. He was never around much when I was growin' up, but Adam took it very hard."

Emily handed her another book. "Were they close?"

"I think so, yes. But as I said, Adam didnae appreciate me faither constantly runnin' off to war and leavin' the clan. When he conquered new lands, it would be Adam who had to get the people settled. Some battles were smoother than others, many didnae recognize the new leadership, and I think me braither came to resent it after a while."

Emily's mind drifted to the Young family and her altercation with Adam in the council chambers.

Perhaps I could do somethin' to help . Surely, I could show him I am capable of somethin' other than conceivin' heirs.

"Adam doesnae like how much influence me maither had over me faither," Freya muttered.

Emily's attention immediately sharpened at her words. "How so?"

"Och." Freya glanced around the library, as though her mother might appear at any moment. "Adam kens that she encouraged it. Even when me faither was growin' older, she and Barclay were determined to continue to expand the clan's territories. I suppose ye cannae be a winner if ye dinnae fight for what ye want, but me faither was frail by the end. Me maither is younger than him, and he suffered from illnesses toward the end of his life."

"I am sorry," Emily said.

"Adam is a great laird. He loves his people more than anythin' and wants to be the opposite of me faither. He wants peace, and for that, I am grateful."

Perhaps he doesnae want me to influence the way he's seen by them.

Emily contemplated that thought for a little while; it would certainly explain why he had seemed so irritated by her presence in the council chambers.

It was almost midnight by the time they had stacked the full length of one of the shelves.

After their conversation about her parents, Freya had moved on to other topics, regaling Emily with ridiculous stories of her antics with her sister. Emily had cried with laughter more than once.

"Shall we go up the rear passages back to our rooms? I think I can remember the way," she offered as Freya let out a loud yawn.

"Are ye sure? If we meet a dragon, I am usin' ye as a shield."

"If we meet a dragon, it should be afraid of us, nae the other way around," Emily said forcefully. "Where are yer chambers?"

"Only a little way from yers." Freya eyed the door uncertainly. "Are ye sure? I have nay sense of direction."

"I willnae leave yer side. If we get lost, we can make loud noises, pretend the castle is haunted, and scare everyone out of their wits."

Freya cackled at that idea, and Emily opened the door as the two women made their way into the castle's underbelly.

Emily had been grateful to be able to forget her troubles for a few precious hours, but as the night closed in on her, she was reminded that her future remained as uncertain as ever.