Chapter Two

Freya cursed her luck at having been caught by Gavin Ross in his bedchamber. If only she'd gone earlier to deposit the clean clothes. Now he wished to speak to her. As he'd done at every opportunity, he'd question her about her past and why she'd fled her home.

Fast thuds of her heart echoed in her ears as she walked next to him. The narrow corridor made it impossible to keep her shoulder from bumping his arm on occasion despite her trying to keep as much distance as possible between them.

The whishing sounds of her heart's hammering reminded her to breath and Freya parted her lips in an attempt to catch her breath. It wasn't just the thought of the questions to come, but the fact that of all the men at Keep Ross, Gavin seemed to have a strong affect her. She could sense his presence before seeing him. A strange heat would envelope her when he was anywhere close by.

As they continued toward the sitting room, her breathing became harsher, whether from fear or something else, she wasn't sure.

Everything about the imposing man who walked beside her emanated strength and power. Although third born, there was an air of leadership about Gavin. From his towering height to the broad expanse of his shoulders, it was obvious the man was as much a warrior as he was a keen-eyed archer. The maids often spoke of his many conquests in competitions, every rendition accompanied with breathy comments on his handsome appearance.

He smelled of outdoors.

Freya dared a glance up at his profile. Admittedly, the man was gorgeous. With long-lashed green eyes under dark eyebrows, a strong jawline, and plush lips. He had light brown hair that fell in waves to his wide shoulders.

They entered Lady Ross's sitting room and not waiting for an invitation, Freya practically collapsed into the closest chair. Hoping he'd not notice the trembling of her hands she clutched them together on her lap and waited.

The only reason she'd dared to venture into his bedchamber was because the chambermaid had told her he was gone to visit his brother and would possibly not return until the following day. Now she had no recourse but to be subjected to questioning. No matter what he asked, it was not possible to say anything to him that would satisfy.

"Are ye scared of me?"

Freya's gaze flew up to his. Strange question, she considered. "I am nae." It was the truth. Yes, she found him intimidating, mainly because of his size and the fact he was a warrior.

If she was nervous, it was because of the secrets she held. Also because of how her body reacted to him, wishing to be closer, to reach and touch him.

His eyes trailed from her eyes to her mouth. Needing to catch her breath, her lips parted of their own accord they parted, her breath catching at what felt so intimate. For a moment, neither spoke nor moved, it was as if time stood still.

Freya took Gavin in. There was a shadowing of beard on his jaw that made her want to run her palm over it. His full lips were slightly parted and for a scant second, she allowed herself to imagine them against her.

Shocked at her thoughts, Freya turned to the doorway. "Is there something ye wish to speak to me about?"

He blinked as if he'd been pulled from his thoughts.

"I have something for ye." He lifted a worn leather sack and held it out.

Freya studied the item but didn't reach for it.

"Take it," he urged.

Before she could reach for it, he seemed to think better of it. Pulling it back, he shoved his hand into it retrieving a small bundle.

Flexing her fingers, Freya considered why the man would give her anything. Was it a trick?

"What is it?"

"I purchased ye a gift." He continued held it out. "Ye must accept it. I have no one else to give it to,"

It made little sense why this man would purchase her a gift. Curiosity won and Freya reached for the neatly tied bundle.

His gaze followed the progress as she grasped it. The corners of his lips lifted, and she realized he was waiting for her to open it.

With shaky fingers, she placed it on her lap, untied the string, and pulled the edges of the rough cloth apart to expose an interesting collection of items.

There was a small stone heart with a tiny loop so that it could be used as a pendant, an intricately carved box, two ribbons, and a jeweled dagger. Of all of them, the dagger made her wonder what he was thinking.

"Why did ye get these things?" she asked noting his head titled at an angle as he studied her with interest.

His wide shoulders lifted and lowered. "I came upon a peddler when heading back from visiting my brother. The man was amicable, and we struck up a conversation. I felt as if I should purchase some items."

Unsure of what to think she frowned. "Why give them to me?"

This time only one shoulder lifted. "Ye dinnae have anything much. The peddler said women like ribbons and such." He motioned to the items on her lap.

Despite the strangeness of the situation, it was sweet of him. Freya studied the items, running her fingers over the wooden box. She adored carved boxes. Back at home, there were several on her dressing table.

Shaking off the reminder, she motioned to another item. "And the dagger?"

This time he frowned. "Every lass should keep one about her person. For protection."

Freya pulled the edges of the bundle close. "It is all very lovely. I cannae possibly accept them. Ye do nae know me, and I am sure there is another woman who would love a gift from ye."

"Do ye plan to return home and dinnae want to explain why ye have these items?" Gavin asked, his words measured.

Her breath caught as she carefully pondered how to reply. Finally Freya decided to always speak truthfully. "I will never return to where I came from."

When she didn't continue, he spoke again, "If ye worried for yer safety, I can assure ye here at Keep Ross ye are safe."

"I do feel safe here," Freya admitted.

He gave a nod. "I am glad to hear it. More than anything, my family wishes… I wish to ensure everyone within the walls of the keep are well protected. The reason I pry about ye being here is to ensure it. I must ask ye Freya. Does yer presence bring danger to my people?"

It was the question she'd been dreading. In truth, she didn't think so, but the man they'd ran from was ruthless.

Freya met his gaze. "It is doubtful anyone will ever seek me out. Yer clan is strong and powerful. I bring no threat."

If her betrothed, Tasgall Macgregor, thought she and her brother had perished at sea, then perhaps it was true. Her betrothed was a horrible person, but he didn't have any power away from Eigg. His family as also only just a family without guards or ties to the local laird.

The only thing Tasgall cared about was her family's lands and fortune. Without her, he would never be able to gain them and that was the only reason he'd search for her. If only she and Beathan had been able to reach her uncle's lands and seek shelter there. The outcome would have been so very different.

Now she had no idea what happened on Eigg. If her family had any idea that she and Beathan were gone from the Isle.

Gavin was within his rights to ask whether her presence would cause strife. If she continued to refuse to give them a reason for being there, eventually Gavin's brother, the laird, would undoubtedly send her away.

"What was the reason ye and yer brother fled yer homeland?" Gavin asked another difficult question.

Turning the words over in her mind, Freya wondered how much she could reveal. She'd been unable to ascertain if Clan Ross was allied with anyone on Eigg.

"We had to leave. It was imperative. We were in danger there," she finally offered.

He studied her for a long moment, making it impossible for her to look away.

"How would ye react in this situation if I was to show up at yer home refusing to give any information?" he asked, not breaking eye contact.

Freya thought about it. "I am nae sure to have been as generous as yer family were to my brother and me. There is nae reason to trust me, but I give ye my word that I will leave if at any moment my presence can cause turmoil. Though let me assure you again that I am quite certain no one will ever come looking for me."

By the long exhalation and lips pressed into a tight line, he wasn't satisfied with her replies. There was little Freya could do. To divulge who she was and where she was from could mean she'd be taken back to a place where her future was not guaranteed.

"My brother will return in a pair of months. At that time, he will decide whether ye can remain or not. Ye should prepare yerself for where ye will go if he decides ye cannae remain." He stood and she followed suit.

Freya held up the bundle. "Please take this."

His hand covered hers and a chill traveled up her arm, it was all Freya could do not to close her eyes and relish the feel of his touch. Instead she waited for him to take the bundle. Instead he wrapped his large hand around hers, tightening her hold on the bundle.

"I bought it for only ye. Would ye insult me by refusing my gift?" When she lifted her gaze he turned and walked away.

For a moment, Freya watched his retreating back, her mind awhirl. Clutching the bundle against her chest, she let out a long breath. Catching herself, Freya chided. He'd only done it to be kind, not because he felt any kind of attraction.

Possibly he'd done it to build trust between them, so that she'd divulge more information. Best not to allow her overly romantic mind to make more than there was of the situation.

Despite everything, Freya's lips curved as she held the small bundle up to her nose and sniffed. The wrapping smelled of outdoors, just like he had.

Here she was fantasizing, and Gavin was in all probability frustrated at her for being less than forthcoming with information. Freya didn't blame him. In his place, she would feel the same.

Perhaps it would be best for her to make inquiries to the staff and find out as much as she could about Clan Ross' relationships with clan Macgregor. If there was even the slightest threat of harm from them, she could explain everything to Gavin.

She tucked the bundle of items under her arm and hurried from the sitting room, down the stairs, and outside. Once there, she crossed the courtyard and went to one of a row of tiny one room cottages.

There were servant rooms in the proper house; however, she'd not been asked to move there. After a conversation with the main housekeeper, Freya gathered it was because they didn't wish a stranger inside the main house where the family lived. She was not trusted, which was both sad and understandable.

As she crossed the courtyard, Freya bent her head blinking back tears of frustration and sorrow. For the first time in her life, she was utterly alone. Never in her life had she felt such despair and hollowness.

On the Isle of Skye, she had absolutely no one to call a friend or family. The only person she could trust was herself, and it was proving to be so very difficult to make it from one day to the next without falling apart while relying on her strength alone.

As she closed the door behind and latched it, tears spilled down her cheeks at the physical ache in her chest.

How lonely she was.

The repetition of the same activities each day was soothing in a way. Freya started every morning with breakfast in the kitchens with other servants and then went directly to the laundry where she accomplished the same tasks.

The work was strenuous but simple enough. It consisted of large pots of boiling water and lye being stirred by women with large wooden paddles. Lads constantly hurried in with buckets of water or logs for the large fire in the hearth.

Freya, along with another young woman, rinsed the clothes in tubs, inspected them for stains or tears, and then hung them up to dry outside.

By the afternoon, the room was oppressively hot, but Freya barely noticed, her mind on the conversation with Gavin the day before.

She'd slept fretfully. The entire night she wondered if she'd disclosed enough that the family would allow her to remain and be safe, or not enough and she'd be told to leave when the laird returned.

Once in the cabin the night before, she'd once again opened the bundle and examined the items Gavin had given her closely. Each one was specific and quite pretty. She wanted to believe he'd chosen each one thinking of her, but common sense interfered making her realize the peddler had probably suggested what he purchase. In the middle of the night, she'd gotten up, wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and went outside to look up at the sky.

She lifted a tunic from the water and inspected it for tears just as Una, the head mistress, appeared in the doorway. The older woman came to stand near her and spoke in a low tone so no one else could hear.

"I saw ye leave yer cottage quite late last evening. Ye seemed quite forlorn. Is there something wrong?"

Freya considered that there was little privacy in a keep. She decided to reply honestly. "I have moments when I miss my family terribly," Freya replied truthfully. "It aches here in my chest." She pressed her flattened palm between her breasts.

"It is understandable," the woman said patting her shoulder. "Once the clothing is hung to dry, everyone can stop for the day and rest," she called out. "It is much too hot in here."

"Thank ye," one of the laundresses piped up and Una continued, "There will be visitors tomorrow, which means ye will be helping the kitchen staff and the chambermaids. Ensure to rest as much as ye can."

It wasn't long before Freya entered the staff kitchens with the rest of the laundry workers. The women discussed their day, the men they were interested in, and other gossip. Freya waited for the opportune time to ask about the visitors.

"What other clans usually visit here?"

The others mulled her questions and several replied.

"Clan MacLachlan."

"Clan MacLeod."

"Landowners from neighboring areas."

Another one piped up. "'Tis the laird from Barra, The MacNeil, who travels through here tomorrow."

At the name of the visitors being divulged Freya relaxed, letting out a long breath of relief. Thankfully, she didn't know anyone from there.

"What are we to do differently tomorrow?" she asked, not really caring what the reply was, but wanting to have a reason for the first question.

"Mostly ye will be in here to help the kitchen staff," Una told her. "It depends on how large the party is traveling with the laird, but three of ye from the laundry will help with the cleaning and freshening of the bedchambers."

Once meal was over, everyone dispersed eager to be with family or get on with whatever was planned for the rest of the day.

Freya lingered in the kitchens helping with washing up. She wasn't eager to return to her empty cottage.

It was good to have work to keep her busy during the day, but the evenings seemed to stretch forever. The silence was unbearable, making Freya miss the noisiness of the interior of the house.

Her home back on Eigg had been much like the Ross keep. Her father was a wealthy merchant, who'd purchased lands when quite young and built a beautiful house for his bride. Together they'd raised Freya and her brother, Beathan in a home where they constantly entertained visitors from different lands and from the surrounding areas. Hers had been a warm and welcoming home.

Most of the time they'd gotten along well with the neighboring landowners, and her father did his best to be on good terms with the local laird. It wasn't until just a year earlier that everything had gone horribly wrong.

The sound of voices outside shook her from memories of the past that would only serve to make her spend the night crying. Freya grabbed her shawl from a hook by the door and went out to the courtyard.

She scanned the courtyard hoping to see women about with whom to talk with to pass the time. Near the well, two women stood chatting. One was a chambermaid called Flora. The other a woman called Senga, who lived in the village but seemed to visit the keep often with her father.

"Freya, thank ye for helping me yesterday with the bedchambers," Flora said in greeting when she neared. "I would have nae finished my duties otherwise."

"I am glad to keep busy," she replied.

"It seemed all the Ross men needed clean tunics at the same time," Flora exclaimed with a dramatic roll of her eyes. "I dinnae mind, except that Una wished for us to change all the linens on the beds as well."

"I would nae mind washing Gavin Ross' tunics," Senga said, her eyes moving toward the house. "Is he about today?"

Flora shrugged and Freya remained silent. Although she'd seen him earlier, she wouldn't know if he was about since she spent most of her days in the servant's quarters, which were away from the main rooms of the house.

As if summoned, Gavin and his cousin, Knox, walked from the training field into the courtyard. Deep in conversation, the handsome duo didn't notice them.

"Oh my," Senga said, pushing errant hair away from her face. "There he is now."

Freya wished she could hide, but there was nowhere to duck behind. The last thing she wished for is for either of the men to be reminded of her existence and perhaps ask to speak to her again.

Unfortunately, they walked toward where they stood. In all probability to seek a drink of water from the well.

Senga took a dramatic deep breath as the men neared. "Mister Gavin, how are ye today?"

Both Flora and Freya took a step away from Senga. Freya took it a step back further and moved to stand behind Flora, wishing against hope not to be noticed.

"I am well, Senga," Gavin replied. "Ye came with yer father?"

"Aye, he is with Alpin," she said referring to the man in charge of the storehouse.

There was silence and Freya held her breath. Too curious to see what happened, she peered from behind Flora.

Both Ross men were looking toward the storehouse from where an older man had emerged and walked toward them.

It was the best time to walk away and hopefully not be noticed. Just as she took a step away, Flora spoke up. "Do ye wish to walk with me to gather flowers for the great room?"

Both Knox and Gavin turned to Flora, who blushed brightly at the attention. Gavin's flat gaze slid to Freya for a moment. "Where are ye going to pick flowers, Flora?"

The poor girl was flustered and without speaking pointed to the gates. Senga glared at Flora for taking the attention away from her.

"Th-the field just there," Flora stuttered and tugged Freya's hand. "Come let us hurry before it becomes dark."

Gavin held a hand up blocking their progress. "I will walk with ye to the gates and ensure a guard keeps watch over ye. Although it has been peaceful, we cannae be too careful."

Both Flora and Freya exchanged confused looks. They'd gone to and from the keep many times and never been escorted.

Senga looked longingly to Gavin hoping to be invited along. Unfortunately, her father had neared and began a discussion with Knox, which meant she had to remain behind.

"I will fetch a basket from the garden shed," Flora said and hurried away leaving Freya standing alone with Gavin. Her stomach sank when he studied her for a moment.

"I-I must return the items ye gave me…I cannae accept…" Freya began.

"The items are yers to do with whatever ye wish. I donnae expect anything in return."

Once again they fell silent. Gavin reached up and rubbed the nape of his neck. "There are visitors tomorrow and without my brother here, I must greet them and stand in my brother's stead."

It was a strange thing that he mentioned it to her, but by his expression, Freya could see it worried him. Her brother had often been anxious if ever their father was away, and he would have to host visitors.

"It is always safe to speak of sport and to invite them for a hunt. My father said the more he hunted or fished with a visitor the less time they had to sit about and talk," Freya offered.

Gavin's lips curved into a smile that reached his eyes making it hard to look away.

"I will do just that. The weather is perfect for hunting," he said.

Flora neared with two baskets and handed one to Freya just as Gavin called a guard to come to them.

The man looked them over with disinterest, obviously as confused as they'd been at the request to be looked after. He turned his attention back to Gavin.

"Ensure to keep watch. They are to remain in the field, not venture into the woods."

The man nodded as they began walking toward the gate. Much to her consternation, Gavin remained alongside.

"What else does yer father do for visitors?"

"Are ye nae here when visitors come?" Freya asked, confused.

"I avoid it."

She considered her answer. "Mother and Father would hire local musicians to entertain during the meal. They would also invite neighbors to attend last meal, so that the visitors would have others to speak to."

"Do they entertain often?" he asked, brow furrowed.

"They did."

"Ye have been very helpful," he said, giving her a long look before walking away.

"It is strange that he asks ye those questions," Flora said watching Gavin walk away. "I wish he would have asked me what my parents do when visitors come."

"What do they do?" Freya asked studying her new friend.

"Mother cooks and Father complains," Flora said with a giggle.

Freya smiled. "I supposed my parents did the same."

Looking over her shoulder to the retreating Gavin, Freya wondered if he really wished to know how to entertain guests or if he was hoping to get more information about her past. She went over what she'd said as they picked flowers deciding she'd not divulged anything pertinent.

At least she hoped she'd not.