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Two pairs of eyes lifted to her. “There you are.” Aileen received her as husband and wife stood at her entrance.
“Lady McKendrick, you will sit down and say exactly what brought you here.” The McDougal directed in his imposing stance.
“My Laird,” Freya started. “I merely asked for shelter tonight for my son’s sake.” It would be utterly unwise to share her problems with them and involve the Laird and Lady in something so dangerous. “I will leave tomorrow.”
“I do not think so.” Interposed The McDougal. “You are the wife of my brother-in-law and we must take you back to him.”
At that, she did not show compliance. Gaze directly on the man, she delivered the answer. “Maybe my marriage is my own concern, my Laird.”
The giant scowled. “What is it with you McPherson women, anyway?”
“Taran!” Scolded his wife with a vexed glare at her husband. They were two proud and strong-willed people who loved each other but rarely backed down from their opinions.
“Listen, I am really sorry about what happened to Fiona, but I did nothing like it.” Freya compromised.
His disbelieving countenance dispensed with words.
“I believe you need time to ponder things through.” Aileen mediated. “We can offer you a place in our lands.”
“Yes, and keep you out of harm’s way.” Agreed Taran.
“I would not like to impose.” She said uncertain.
“It is not imposing, Freya. And you can stay as long as you need.” Suggested Aileen.
That gave Freya pause. If she took their offer, it would afford her the possibility to plan her next steps with more care. And Ewan would have a safe place unknown to Ross. “In that case, I will accept it.” A faint smile sketched in her strained lips.
“Good.” Aileen smiled. “A footman will take both of you to it in the morning. Together with provisions.”
“Sam is coming for Christmas.” Taran commented. “We invite you to join us, if you are still around.” He added. “He is Ewan’s and your cousin after all.”
To realise she had never had the chance to meet Fiona’s son saddened her. The lad must be eighteen or nineteen; already studying in Oxford, she heard in her trips to the market.
“Thank you.” She said to Laird and Lady McDougal. “If you do not mind, I will retire. It has been a long day.” Better to remove herself before they poked her with more questions she would not answer.
As soon as Freya left the room, Aileen turned to her husband. “I will write to Drostan right away.”
Her husband directed a quizzical glower to her.
“There is something wrong, Taran.” Pacing to the escritoire, she retrieved paper and ink. “She is running, that much is clear.” The lady sat and dipped pen in ink.
“Are you sure?” He rested his elbow on the mantel.
“No. But the signs are all there.” Pen scratched on paper. “Why would she ride hours in the rain with a child when she has a home?” More scribbles drew on the paper. “Her distress is too obvious.”
“You have a point, I must admit.” He drawled. “If that is the case, they will need McKendrick’s protection.
Folding and sealing the paper she stood up. “Do you think we can send out our fastest rider to the McKendrick tonight? I know the weather it awful, but—”
“Consider it done.” Came his reply as he extended his hand for the letter.
“Thank you.” Her steps neared him as she put a kiss to his lips.
He kissed h
er back. “You know I would do anything for your kisses.”
The Laird did not see her blush as he rang for the butler.
