Chapter Fourteen

Tasgall had a bìrlinn waiting when they arrived at the shore. Freya had hoped to get a message to Gavin somehow, but it had been late in the day, almost night when they'd finally made their way onboard. Not one soul was about in the hidden cove where the boat was docked.

Once on Eigg, there was a wagon waiting as well as two horses and they'd made their way to her family home.

She'd rebuffed any attempt by Tasgall to get her to talk, liking the angry sparks of annoyance in the glares he directed at her.

Once at the house, she'd been ushered to a guest room. She knew the reason for not giving her one of the family rooms. It was Tasgall's way of showing her he was now in charge. Little did he know she preferred the anonymity of the guest room, not wanting the reminders of a life lost.

She'd slept fretfully, refusing to open the door when someone knocked. It wasn't until late the following morning that pangs of hunger finally led her to leave the room and head to the kitchen.

One of the servants, a woman called Edina hurried to her, when she entered. "We were told ye and Bethan were lost at sea." The woman's hands shook when they reached up and cupped Freya's face. "Thanks be to God ye are back."

Words couldn't form as Freya's throat was blocked with emotion. Memories of times of Edina and her mother spending their afternoon cooking or discussing over tea came flooding back.

Freya hugged the woman, who began to cry softly. "I was so afraid for ye. None of us knew what to do."

"I survived. Beathan did nae." Freya closed her eyes refusing to cry. "There is much to talk about, but…" She stopped at hearing footsteps, placing a finger over her lips to let Edina know not to ask her to continue.

"Awe ye are here. Tonight, I am hosting a celebration of yer return," Tasgall announced as he entered into the room.

Neither Freya nor Edina spoke.

Tasgall regarded her for a long moment, and she met his gaze refusing to cower. It was satisfying when he looked away first. The curl of distaste on his upper lip did not go unnoticed. One way or another, he planned to punish her for the insolence.

He turned to Edina. "Prepare a menu. My mother will review it with ye."

Edina looked to Freya.

In two strides, Tasgall closed the distance and shoved Freya aside. He stood directly in front of Edina. The woman's wide eyes looked to her feet. "See mother for any questions ye may have. Is that clear?"

The woman's head bobbed up and down. "Yes Sir."

"Come." Tasgall took Freya by the arm, his fingers digging cruelly into the skin. She tried to tug it free, but then cried out when he tightened the hold even more.

They went up the stairs and into the largest bedchamber, which had been her parents. Their belongings were gone, every surface was bare. The bedding had been changed. By the tunic tossed over a chair, Tasgall slept there now.

"Once we marry and share a bedchamber, I prefer it be the largest one."

If he planned to do anything, Freya vowed to fight with all her strength. Once she'd thought to love him, had thought him the most irresistible man. Now she was repelled to even consider that he'd been her lover.

When she yanked her arm away, he released it. "I care not if ye donnae wish to lay with me. Once or twice will be enough, at least until ye give me an heir. After… I can get my needs met elsewhere. It was never… very pleasurable with ye."

Now that she'd been with Gavin, Freya realized never to have enjoyed joining with Tasgall. It had always been quick, ending abruptly. Thankfully he'd ensured not to crest explaining that his father would not forgive a bastard child.

With Gavin, it had been the most beautiful experience, not a duty she'd been cajoled into by her betrothed.

Freya went to the window and peered out. It was best not to allow him to know what her thoughts were. She'd yet to come up with a way to get away from him.

"I will nae marry ye." Freya turned to look at him. "Ye cannae force me. I know what ye did. Ye had my parents killed. If nae for us leaving, Beathan would have been next."

He shrugged and closed the distance. "And yet he did. Die that is."

Before she could think, she slapped him hard across the face.

Tasgall's hands wrapped around her throat, his eyes bulging in fury. "Ye little bitch."

Clawing at his fingers didn't help the lack of air and Freya fought to breath. Then just as quickly, he released her.

Gasping in lungsful of air, Freya coughed with the effort blinking away stars that formed behind her eyelids.

Grabbing her chin, he forced her up to meet his narrowed eyes. "Be sure to dress formally for tonight."

Tasgall and his parents stood near the entrance later that day as the guests arrived. Meanwhile, Freya kept an eye on who arrived from the second-floor landing, keeping just out of sight.

There were people she didn't remember ever meeting, and four couples who'd been friendly with her parents. She wondered what had been said to them, or if they were more loyal to whoever they thought had control of the wealth that came with the house and lands.

Tasgall kept looking around the room and to the stairwell expecting her to stand at his side and greet the guests with a united front.

Never would she stand beside him again.

She waited until everyone was seated and a second maid was sent to find her before she finally went down to the great room.

It must have been both her expression and lack of a proper dress because at her entrance, conversations stopped, and the atmosphere turned tense.

From the awkwardness of those that knew her parents, it was obvious they'd been told stories about the reason for her absence. If Freya were to guess, Tasgall had said she'd gone mad with grief and traveled away to have time alone. Or something of that matter.

That some of the guests had called themselves friends to her family, had been close to her mother and her father, and now they shared a meal with their killer made her stomach clench.

It was possible they didn't know the whole truth, but surely everyone had to suspect she and Beathan would never have left without a good reason.

Tasgall stood and held out the chair next to him so she could sit. Freya didn't give him so much as a glance. She went to the chair and lowered, the entire time considering what to do to ensure everyone was aware things were not what they seemed.

"I am sure everyone is glad to see Freya has returned," Tasgall said in an overly jovial tone, lifting his glass as if to toast.

When Freya kept her hands folded in her lap, not touching the glass in front of her, the guests seemed unsure of what to do. Only a pair reached for their cups.

"Let us lift our glasses in welcome," the oblivious Tasgall instructed, with a wide grin. "My betrothed has returned." He'd acted as if she'd been on some sort of holiday, instead of running for her life.

Finally everyone, except for her, lifted their cups.

Tasgall turned to her. "Freya?"

She scanned the faces of those around the table and stood. "What are we here to celebrate? That my parents were murdered? Or that now my brother Beathan is also dead."

There were gasps accompanied by everyone looking to one another with confusion.

Freya couldn't keep the sneer from her lips. "How dare ye gather and toast as if all is well. Have any of ye even bothered to find out if what Tasgall says is true? That Beathan and I went away willingly?"

At the smell of food, her stomach revolted, and Freya threw up, the contents of her stomach spewing across hers and Tasgall's place settings. If not for the tightening of her stomach muscles threatening a repeat performance, Freya would have laughed at Tasgall's shocked expression.

There was a moment of silence followed by some people making retching sounds.

Tasgall's mother covered her mouth, her face turning a sickly green. She pushed back from the table with such force that the chair toppled backward. Gathering her skirts with her free hand, the woman rushed out of the room. Those closest to Freya pushed away from the table as well.

Taking a cloth, Freya wiped her mouth. She swayed on to her feet. Doing her best to ignore her stomach's tightening, warning that it may react again. By now almost everyone was standing, moving away from the smell.

There were no feelings of embarrassment or any feelings at all, truth be told. Instead, she looked around the room meeting each set of eyes.

"This is my family home. It is nae his home." She pointed at Tasgall, her hand shaking slightly.

Then she motioned toward the doorway. "None of ye are ever welcome here again. Leave my home at once."

No one moved, instead they looked to Tasgall, who gave her a murderous look. "Ye are nae feeling well. Nae yerself, darling."

"Ye odious pig. Ye had my parents killed. And ye are responsible for Beathan's death. How dare ye sit here and play host? I wish for ye and yer family to leave my home at once. Everyone get out!"

"Ye must calm. Dinnae forget that we are to marry…" Tasgall said through clenched teeth.

"I will never marry ye!" Freya's voice was like a screech.

Whirling to the people who watched them with rapt attention, she lost all control. "I said get out! All of ye, get out!"

Spurned by her screams, the guests finally reacted and one by one, hurried from the room. Soon they were all gone, except for Tasgall and his father who stood by the doorway, he looked to Tasgall as if wondering what had caused the night to go so wrong.

Tasgall's father had always been a quiet unassuming man. At the same time, he was imposing, and Freya knew that beneath the seemingly calm exterior was an iron rod will.

She'd like Tasgall's parents but didn't trust them now. Still she could not be positive the man was not involved, so she refused to give him any benefit of the doubt.

"Ye should nae make those kinds of accusations in public," Tasgall's father told her in a gentle voice. "There is no proof of it. I am sure ye are mistaken, lass."

Tasgall stood by the sideboard, glaring at her. She'd ruined his moment; his attempt to prove to the local affluential families that in fact he did hold clout. Freya almost smiled.

She shook her head returning her attention to the older man. "Beathan overheard Tasgall speaking to several men, planning to kill him."

Tasgall tensed, his gaze turning hard. "He lied to ye."

Freya ignored him keeping her gaze on the older man. The man seemed willing to hear what she had to say. Still she didn't totally trust him.

"According to my brother, Tasgall just as admitted having my parents killed when told the men Beathan had to be next. That's what he said, "next," she said emphasizing the word.

Tasgall's father looked to his son, searching his face. "Go on," he said to Freya.

"Why else would we leave? We had to escape, in an attempt to save my brother. Now he is dead. Succumbed to lack of food and water." She hated the pitch on the last word.

The older man's eyes widened and moved from her to Tasgall, who watched her through slitted eyes. He was furious and no doubt plotting how to turn things around in his favor.

Before his father could speak, Tasgall said. "Ye are nae making any sense. Yer parents died in an unfortunate manner, they were struck down by robbers. I had nothing to do with it,"

Then he looked to his father. "There is nae proof I had anything to do with their death. I was with ye and Mother at the time."

Freya let out a huff when noticing a tightening of his right cheek, something he did whenever he lied. His father must have noticed it as well because his eyes narrowed.

"We will leave yer home," the older man said without inflection. "Once things calm, the betrothal will be discussed because it was a formal agreement made between yer father and myself."

"We are betrothed. Our betrothal was a formal and witnessed agreement forged by our fathers," Tasgall repeated, once again. He closed the distance between them, trying to intimidate her. Freya refused to show fear, keeping her feet firmly planted.

Again her stomach churned in warning, and she let out a sound of warning.

Tasgall hesitated when his father spoke. "The lass has been through a great deal. We should give her a few days to rest and think clearly."

"We will go." His mother appeared in the doorway. She'd still not regained her color as she met Freya's gaze. By the stricken expression, she'd overheard it all. There was pity, or perhaps an apology in the way the older woman regarded Freya. "I wish to leave at once."

Acknowledging he'd not make any headway that day, Tasgall let out a hard breath. "Fine. But I will return in a few days, along with the cleric and constable. At that time we will formalize everything."

Whatever that meant, Freya didn't like it. Tasgall's family was wealthy, especially now that she suspected he'd dipped into her father's coffers. She'd yet to search for where her father stored his gold and other valuables, not wanting to be spied on by Tasgall and his family.

It seemed to take forever before they left and when they finally closed the door behind them, the house plunged into silence, even the candles seemed to dim as she collapsed into the closest chair.

Edina, who'd been in the family's service since she was a child hurried into the room. "Drink this," she said shoving a cup into Freya's hands. "It will settle yer stomach."

Freya drank the overly sweetened hot liquid and let out a long sigh.

"What am I going to do Edina?"

The woman lowered to the chair next to hers. "Whatever ye decide, we will help ye," she said referring to herself and her husband Colin.

From Tasgall's warning, she only had a few days to come up with a way to keep him from the family wealth. Whether she ended up impoverished didn't matter, what was important was to ensure a murderer did not end up with control of her home and lands.

She could go to the village priest and seek council. Of course if the man didn't believe her, it could possibly do more harm than good. After all in the end it was her word against Tasgall's, especially as Beathan couldn't testify about what he'd heard. There was also the impediment that the betrothal had been formal, with witnesses that had included the priest.

After dressing the following morning, Freya hurried to the front room to find Edina. The woman's face brightened upon seeing her.

"Ye were brave last night, miss."

"I need yer help," Freya said, not feeling brave at all. She was too anxious that at any moment Tasgall would return with a constable and a clergy who would force her to marry him.

"Edina, fetch Colin at once," she said referring to the woman's husband. "I need him to deliver a message for me. Please hurry."

When Edina left, she began pacing a nervous energy filling her. It was late the night before that she'd come up with an idea and a way to keep the home and lands out of Tasgall's hands. But she'd have to act quickly.

The only person who could help was her uncle, her father's brother William.

He was married and had a son and a daughter. As her father's male relative, and Freya not married, he would be the one who would inherit the land. Not that he would ever demand it.

However, once she explained to him what had occurred, Her uncle William would advise if her plan to give him the home was a way to keep Tasgall from ever seizing it.

With both her father and brother dead and she the only living member of the family, surely he'd understand that she had the right to do what she wished with the property.

It meant it would no longer be her home, but at least Tasgall would never own it. Her heart quickened and she prayed her family would agree to come at once.

Edina's husband came through the door. Colin was a kind, softspoken man. Slightly stooped, thin and he walked with a slight limp, his plain face brightened at seeing her.

"Miss Craig. So glad to see ye," he said.

"I am glad to see ye as well," Freya replied, genuinely meaning it. "I have an important task for ye. I will pay ye extra because it is imperative ye leave immediately."

"No need for that lass. I will go at once," Colin said, his head bobbing up and down.

She proceeded to give him specific directions to her uncle's home, which was over half a day's ride away.

"Inform him I have very good news for him and that the entire family must come at once. Ensure he understands that time is of the essence. Tell him, he is saving my life by coming."

Edina and Colin exchanged concerned looks, but neither seemed surprised at her words. When Freya held out a tartan pin that belonged to her father, the older man took it.

"Give it to him to prove that ye are indeed sent by me in case he does nae remember ye."