Chapter Sixteen
"No one is coming," Freya told Edina as both stood outside looking in the direction of her uncles' lands.
Edina gave her a hopeful look, her lips curving just a bit. "I am sure they will come. It takes time to prepare a family for travel. Yer uncle has nae been here since yer parent's funeral."
"If only Beathan and I could have gone to them instead of out to sea. But we were terrified of being caught by Tasgall and his men."
Edina took her hand. "Come let us walk for a bit. Ye must be tired of being cloistered in the house."
They strolled down a path that led around the back of the house. Freya studied the lands and then looked back to the home. As familiar as it was, something vital was gone. It was as if the spirit of the home had been taken from everything. The garden her mother had planted remained and her father's favorite cane rested next to a chair in the sitting room. And yet, they would never return to touch either.
Freya linked her arm through Edina's as they walked. "I have to admit that I do not mind giving it all to my uncle. Without my parents and Beathan, it no longer feels like home to me."
Edina's look of astonishment made Freya pause. "But it is yer home, miss. Ye were born here. Yer father had this house built for yer mother, he expected to raise ye and yer brother here and for ye to do the same. I am sure he meant for his descendants continue living on these lands."
"I am the only one left and cannae own it because I am a woman. Whomever I marry would lawfully own the house and lands. I have no desire to allow someone, especially that monster, Tasgall, to have it all."
"I understand." Edina sighed.
They continued walking, rounding to the side of the house when in the distance men on horseback appeared.
"Go inside, miss. They are too far for us to see who they are," Edina said moving with surprising speed, she more pushed than guided Freya to the front of the house. Then she called out to two men who worked in garden and stables to come. "Do not allow them inside the house until I see who it is."
Edina and Freya went inside and hurried up the stairs into one of the bedchambers and looked out through a large window.
It took a few moments before Freya's heart sank. It was Tasgall and his ever-present companion.
"At least he doesn't bring the clergy or constable with him," Freya told Edina. "I will meet with him outside. I prefer he not enter the house. Instruct men to remain close." They went back downstairs.
By the time Tasgall and his companion neared, Freya stood atop the steps in front of the house, the two workers on the ground on both sides.
Tasgall peered down at them before dismounting. He took inventory of the surroundings, his gaze pausing on the two men who kept their gazes on him.
"I've come to see if ye have calmed down enough to be sensible." His gaze was dispassionate when taking her in. "Our wedding ceremony will occur as soon as I get the clergy and constable to come. Ye can prepare or nae. But it will happen."
Freya hitched her chin. "As I said before, I will never marry ye."
Stalking toward her, he ignored the two men and went up the stairs to stand over her. Freya motioned to the two men to remain where they stood.
All he had to do was reach over and push her off the steps. She'd be hurt if she fell from this height. Still she maintained her ground waiting to hear what he had to say.
"Ye have no choice. Our betrothal was made public. The agreement made between our families was formalized. Ye cannae do better for a husband."
If not for him seeming on the brink of losing his temper, Freya would have laughed. She glanced toward the road, mentally willing her uncle to appear. But it was empty, not a person in sight.
At her silence and lack of reaction, his nostrils flared, and lips pressed into a tight line. "Three days hence ye will present yerself for marriage."
Freya took a step back forcing a bored expression. "Ye are willing to spend every night for the rest of yer life with one eye open wondering which night I will kill ye in yer sleep? Seems a steep price for a house and lands. The inability to trust a wife who wishes ye were dead."
Tasgall's eyes widened, but then he quickly regained his composure. "I could threaten ye the same."
The blood in her veins turned ice-cold. If she was forced to marry, it would be a race to see who would kill the other first.
Interesting.
She felt no fear, just a strange calmness.
Something in her demeanor must have changed because Tasgall studied her with curiosity. He turned to look at the men, who watched him with ill-concealed hatred. "Although yer father was an adequate manager, I can make these lands prosper."
"Ye are a fool."
Tasgall lifted his hand to strike her.
"I wouldnae do it," a deep voice sounded, and everyone turned to see a man dismounting.
It was her uncle.
Freya let out a long breath of relief.
Tasgall went down the stairs his demeaner deceivably calm. "Ye must remind me who ye are. I know we have met before."
William Craig was tall and broad. At least a head taller than Tasgall. And although older, he was an imposing man. Despite this, Freya feared what Tasgall would do. He was always armed with daggers.
Her uncle ignored Tasgall and looked up to Freya. "How are ye lass?"
"And ye are?" Tasgall repeated with impatience. "This is a private matter at the moment, perhaps ye can return another time." He motioned between himself and Freya.
"It is ye who must leave immediately, else I have ye thrown out by force." Her uncle motioned behind him where several horsemen, including her cousin, Ignall, rode toward the house.
Tasgall slid a look laced with pure hatred to Freya. "I am Freya's betrothed. I am in my full rights to be here."
"I am William Craig, her father's brother, and these are now my lands."
Freya rushed down and went to her uncle's side relief pouring over her.
"This changes nothing. In three days Freya and I will marry." Tasgall stalked to his horse and mounted. He glared directly at Freya. "Three days."
They watched as Tasgall, and the other man rode away.
"I dinnae think he will give up easily," her uncle said. "We have much to discuss."
"Ye came," Freya fell against him.
A short time later her aunt, Rose, and her cousin, Sorcha arrived by carriage. Freya was delighted to see them.
They all went to the front room, the entire time her aunt and cousins peppering her with questions.
"Allow the lass to speak," here uncle said motioning for everyone to sit.
At the silence, Freya took a fortifying breath and described the time at sea and Beathan's death. She repeated what Beathan had overheard and how they'd managed to survive a storm at sea and arrive on the Isle of Skye. She told them how she'd sought refuge with Clan Ross and about being found by Tasgall and brought back.
"If only ye and Beathan would have come to us," her aunt said sobbing. "My poor Beathan."
Her uncle stood next to the hearth, facing the fire. Every so often he lifted his hand and wiped away tears. Heartbreak and sorrow hung in the air like a dark rain cloud.
Sorcha held Freya, her thin arms around her shoulders. By how hard her cousin cried, it seemed Sorcha was the one needed more comfort. Freya understood. The grief was brand new for them and her heart broke all over again.
Ignall was silent, as tears rolled down his cheeks. His eyes glued to the fire in the hearth. Ignall and Beathan had been close, often visiting one another.
She'd had time to grow used to the fact her handsome brother was forever gone.
She'd grieved alone the deaths of her parents and brother.
Taking a long breath, she looked at her uncle's back. "We cannae allow the home and lands that father sacrificed so much for to end in the hands of his killer."
"I should have returned to see about things sooner," her uncle said, sadness thick in his voice. "Beathan would still live. But I assumed he had things in hand, and we could wait. Then a messenger came to tell us ye'd been so grieved that ye had both gone away."
He stopped to clear his throat. "When I sent someone here to ask questions, the messenger returned with little news. Tasgall assured him ye were about to return and he would send invitations to the wedding."
"I have been praying continuously," her aunt added taking her hand.
"There is nothing to be done to change the past," Freya said gently. "And now that ye are here, ye can help me keep my father's holdings from the man responsible for his death."
"What of yer betrothal agreement?" Sorcha asked, her pretty face pink from crying. "Can it be broken?"
"How can it nae?" her aunt cried out. "That creature is responsible for three deaths."
Her uncle frowned, his brows lowering. "It is nae that simple." He turned his attention to Freya. "How were the arrangements made?"
"His family came here, and it was announced formally before the priest. I believe that was it. His father and mine met in private to discuss the particulars. Father then informed us that upon marrying, a portion of the lands to the east would be given to us and it would be where Tasgall and I could build a home."
Her uncle nodded, stroking his bearded jaw in thought.
Freya continued. "Upon Father's death, everything would go to Beathan except for the area that was to be mine and my husband's."
"That is why he wished to kill Beathan as well," Ignall said, his face as mask of anger. "That man can nae own these lands. It can never happen."
"Under the law, a woman cannae be forced to marry against her will. As brother to yer father, this is all rightfully mine now, and I am yer guardian Freya. It would be up to me to decree what anyone marrying ye would receive."
Relief flooded through her. At the same time, she knew Tasgall. "He will nae give up easily."
Her aunt took her hand. "I must ask lass. Were ye and he ever intimate?"
The relief she'd felt was replaced with fear. Freya and Tasgall had been intimate before the betrothal.
"I-I dinnae wish to say."
Her aunt and uncle exchanged worried looks, then her uncle asked her cousins to leave the room.
Once alone, he gave her a worried look. "Freya, if ye gave yerself to him, he can claim husbandly rights and demand marriage."
"I was nae intimate with him after the betrothal."
She closed her eyes when all she could think about was Gavin and how she wished it was he who'd been her first lover.
"There is someone else now."
"Who?" both asked in unison.
"His name is Gavin Ross."
"I dinnae know if it matters," her aunt said. "If ye are nae a virgin, Tasgall can say it was he who…" She left the sentence hanging and looked to her husband. "Do ye think the clergy will insist they marry?"
"If Tasgall has thought about it and demands proof, then aye, perhaps."
"Women often give themselves to a man during moon festivals. I can say it happened then and that is was nae Tasgall. Many a lass is nae a virgin when marrying," Freya protested. "'Tis nae the times when ye were young and things were different."
Her aunt and uncle exchanged a look that said they'd not exactly been a testament to their "times".
"Let us nae worry about what has nae happened yet. For now, I will go and meet with the local laird and see what he thinks. Perhaps he has a good relationship with the local clergy."
"Thank ye. I will do anything to keep these lands out of Tasgall's hands. He has no right to demand anything." Tears trickled down her cheeks. "I am so happy to see ye. I am so glad ye are here. I have felt so alone."
"We are here now," her aunt said wiping her own tears. "I am so very sorry for all ye went through."
By the time last meal was served, Freya felt a bit more settled. Knowing that her uncle was willing to do what he could to help was comforting. She'd not brought up the subject of what they planned to do once the matter was settled. Her uncle had his own lands and home and would possibly not wish to move there.
When she prepared for bed a restlessness took over. Not knowing what would happen in the coming days made it hard to be at peace. Despite her family being there and having stayed up late into the night talking, her heart felt heavy. Each time she looked at her uncle, his resemblance to her father made her want to sob. Even his voice was so much like her father's. He seemed to understand as he caught her stealing glances at him over and again.
She pushed the shutters open and looked up at the starlit sky. Her life was forever changed. With her uncle becoming her guardian, it meant he could arrange for her to marry. Women were not meant to be alone, without protection. How long before this came to be?
Following a line of stars that formed an arrow, she wondered what Gavin did at the moment. Did he think about her? Was he fully healed now?
A part of her wished she'd confided in him earlier. Told him everything. Perhaps things would be completely different now. It was much too late for regrets.
Just the thought of him brought out warm sensations in her body. She missed seeing him, the feel of his large body when they'd hugged. His pillowy lips on hers. Freya closed her eyes and pictured his face.
The face she would in all probability never see again.
If only there was a way to get word to him. She could send a message. Let him know she was well and living with family. Inform him that she'd not wished to leave, but that she'd no other option. Yes, that is what she'd do as soon as matters with Tasgall were settled.
He'd been right to be angry and distrust her, but she was certain he would've forgiven her over time.
Unsure what to do, she left the room and went down the stairs, following the familiar route that would lead to the kitchen. Once there, she lit a small lantern and sat at the table. Placing her elbows on the surface, she cradled her chin in her hands and considered what to do. Sleep would not come, so perhaps cooking and contemplation would help.
She missed the busy work at Keep Ross. After working in the laundry all day, she'd been too tired to spend time in melancholy.
By the time the sun rose, offerings for first, second and even last meal overflowed the kitchen table. Freya took in the food, everything from fruit tarts to a pot of stew were available. Edina wouldn't have to cook at all that day.
Her aunt walked in, looking as if she'd not slept well either. She stopped in her tracks and stared at the table that was replete with food. "I thought I was dreaming when the aromas woke me several times." Moving closer, she sniffed the air. "I didnae know ye were such a good cook."
"Mother and Edina taught me," Freya replied stretching. "I'm finally getting sleepy but doubt I can sleep at all."
"Dinnae worry overly much my lass. William will take matters in hand. We talked late into the night and have more than one idea as to what can be done. All will be well."
"I want to believe ye, but nothing has gone well for me as of late," Freya replied. "I keep hoping it has all been a bad dream."
Her aunt neared and placed a hand on Freya's shoulder. "I know lass. I cannae imagine. As ye know, yer uncle is a stubborn, fearless man. He will nae allow these lands to be taken by murderers."
"Get some rest," she said pulling Freya to stand. "Go and lay down for a few moments. Whether ye sleep or not, ye need to rest."
Freya decided to draw water from the well and wash up first.
Although no one was about, as it was early yet, she felt safe knowing her uncle's men were about.
The well was just a short walk from the kitchen doors, and she hurried out to it. It was a cool morning, the breeze making it feel even more so. She'd have to heat the water before washing up as the combination of the chilly day and frigid water would not do.
Upon nearing the well, she sensed someone watching. Freya looked around but didn't see anyone. It could be Tasgall or one of his idiot friends lurked out of sight waiting for the opportunity to do harm.
She hurriedly tugged on the rope until the bucket appeared and then she poured the water into the one she'd carried.
Once again, Freya looked around.
In the last few months, she'd become reliant on all her senses. At the moment, every instinct told her to run.
Leaving the bucket beside the well, she hitched up her skirts and raced back toward the kitchen. Her breathing caught as fear took over, making it seem as if the short distance stretched.
By the time she grabbed the door handle, she was gasping for air. The door caught, so she clutched the handle with both hands and yanked it open, throwing herself into the dimness of the house.
Once inside, she rushed into the kitchen and hurried to the window to peer outside. There was no one about.
"What are ye doing?" Her aunt came to stand next to her. "Ye look pale as a ghost."
"I thought I saw someone lurking about." Her words came out in a breathless rush. "I am nae sure. It could just be nerves."
"We have guards. If someone was about I am sure they would have seen them. Go and rest." Her aunt gave her a worried look.
The following day, Freya insisted Ignall walk with her when she ventured outside. Once again the sensation of someone watching made her constantly look around. Ignall wasn't as inclined, hands clasped behind his back, he seemed at ease.
"Why do ye wish to be outside if ye are nae enjoying it?" he asked studying her.
"I think someone is watching. Look about," Freya whispered scanning the surroundings.
Her father had chosen the location to build the house wisely. It was on land that was slightly higher than the surroundings, keeping it safer from flooding and making it easier to see anyone approaching.
At the same time, it also meant people could watch from a distance without being seen.
Ignall pointed to a tree line. "If someone hides in the trees there is little we can do." He frowned eyes narrowed. "I do see movement."
Freya whirled to look, leaning forward and squinting in the direction Ignall motioned. Her breath caught.
Tasgall and a group of men rode toward the house.
"Hurry, we must go inside and alert yer father. He brings the village priest and constable."
Ignall shook his head. "Father has gone to meet with the Macdonald. He is nae here. He left right after first meal."
"Oh, no." Freya's breathing hitched. "What can we do?"
"Father took the stableman with him. I will speak with Tasgall and insist they wait for Father before anything can be done. They cannae force ye to marry him."
Ignall meant well, but he didn't know Tasgall.
They hurried inside not waiting for Tasgall and his men to approach and catch them outside.