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“No doubt.”
They fell silent for more minutes.
“I will be glad to go back to my old chores.” She admitted at the possibility of resuming her life at the manor.
“And me to mine.” He kissed her. “My husband’s chores, well understood.”
She breathed a laugh as he carried on demonstrating which chores he meant. He performed them with utter skill. Torturously slow, to her complete perdition.
Hours later, they regained their speech ability.
“Ewan misses you.” She informed him sleepy.
“And I him.” He answered as he stood up to dress.
“He will not mind if you go say hello.” She wrapped herself in a blanket and followed him.
Drostan opened the other chamber and sat on the small bed. “Mo balach.” He called in low tones.
The boy lifted his eyelids instantly. “Papa!” And jumped to hug the big man.
They chatted for a while as the father made to leave. “Stay with us.” His son insisted.
“I would like to, Ewan.” He took the boy by his shoulders. “Listen now.” Two pairs of identical eyes glared serious at each other. “We will reunite soon. But we need to wait. Do you understand?”
His son seemed to realise the seriousness in his father’s stance. “Yes, papa.” Sadness on him.
Father held son for long minutes, and put him back to bed.
Freya followed him to the entrance and opened the door. Their eyes meshed again with greed and uncertainty. It would be tremendously reckless to do this more times. He knew it. She knew it. Their strength must hold despite the temptations.
The awareness of it produced anger and rebellion in her. To be forced to this sneaking in the night as though they became the criminals. As though they were being punished for a wrong they incurred.
And then an anguish surged, mingling with the excitement at his presence. Like they became some sort of star-crossed lovers in an illicit tryst. Unlawful, illegal when they were married, for pity's sake. Yet here they stood, in the moonlight, scraping for crumbs of togetherness insufficient and ephemeral. Of all the things to happen in a marriage, this must be one of the worst. Neither together, nor separated. But something in between that seemed never to end. Never to resolve itself. There was little she would not give for a normal life, daily chores. To see her husband mount Threuna to go to the fields. To see him coming back tired or annoyed with this difficulty or another. To be able to soothe it. Be able to find comfort in him if she needed. Watch him eat his dinner and talk about nothings and everythings. Watch him preparing for bed as he undressed his magnificent figure and tucked under the covers with her. Make love, or make conversation, or make peace from the daily disagreements. Whatever. Anything, but this unbearable grey zone she lived in. Endless and incongruent.
At last breaking eye contact, and without a word, he turned and left in the darkest hour before dawn.
Freya and Ewan observed as the servants from the McKendrick carried supplies into the cottage the following morning. They surely did not need that much, she thought as they stacked clothes, toys and food in the front room. John would have a hard time putting it away.
A footman approached her and put a small box in her hand. Pacing to her bedchamber, she opened it to find a pouch of coins. With these many things catered to her, she did not need money. But the single-minded man would not listen even if she pointed out the fact to him. She bent to put it with the other one in the small chest at the foot of the bed. She would have to give it back to him next time they met. Whenever that might be. Her mind cut the saddening thought swiftly and busied herself with the supplies. Ewan sat cheerfully ruffling through his new toys.
With a curtsy, they left.
She went on to shut the door. The chilly air would render the fire on the hearth useless.
And the chill became polar cap when she saw Ross and James standing on the front yard.
CHAPTER TEN
“Smart move, lass.” James spat. “Who would look for you here again?” The criminals had followed the servants’ cart, no doubt.
John came to stand at her back darting a hard look at the men. “You need to protect Ewan.” She murmured to him. Which reluctantly he did.
The cowards would sneak in when she could not defend herself with the other footmen gone. They were not even capable of standing up to Drostan.
She deemed herself lucky, however. Even with the fear and strain their presence evoked, finding a way to buy time, or to plan something that would make her go around it was better than risking someone’s life unnecessarily.
Once more she uttered the words from when they last met. “Say what you came to say and leave.” She commanded in a dry voice. No chance of her showing fear for her kin to use it against her.
