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Before the McPherson brothers neared, Fingal positioned himself in front of the carriage to surround Freya with more protection. He made the coachman go down.
Heart pounding inside her ribs, fear for her husband clogging her throat, she would not sit and watch those villains do whatever they wanted. In a decisive movement, her hand shoved the carriage door.
“Stay inside!” Drostan’s hoarse edit scratched her ears.
They pointed each riffle at The McKendrick, and Freya’s world tilted perilously into darkened vision. Her throat swallowed what had to be sand as she forced her legs to pace to her Laird.
She stood in front of her husband, shielding him from the riffles. Everything she had seen in her nightmares. Everything she had worked so hard to avoid. The years apart, the longing, the fear. Everything she had in her life, outside her son. Everything…did not spare the love of her life from this moment. It had all been for nothing! The sorrow, the despair, the hopelessness. Fat tears spurted from her eyes. She did not swallow them. They cascaded down her cheeks freely. And silently. For she did not want her husband grieved by them.
“Have you gone insane, woman?” He held her upper arm, trying to move her from his front. “Go to the ground.” He ordered.
She heard none of it. Would do none of it. Her heart overflowed with searing, intense emotions burning through her. No chance of hearing anything outside what this soft organ of hers demanded, needed. Craved. And it must come out. At once. There was only one thing she wanted to give as answer.
“Drostan, I want you to know I love you.” She started, straining not to let her tears seep into her words. “I love you so much, it hurts. I have always loved you since I was eighteen. Not for an hour, not for a minute, not for a second have I stopped lo
ving you.” Her voice so soft only for him. “Everything I did, everything I will ever do is for you and your safety.” She sniffed pitifully. “Because I…I cannot live in a world where there is no you. Do you understand?”
“Freya…” He murmured in a tone that suggested her words shifted his guts.
“Did I not say I would kill him if you ever came back?” Ross spat at her, insensitive to her moist cheeks.
Though her stare remained on Ross, she did not deign to listen to his vitriol. He was the criminal. Whatever he said or did not say did not signify. His actions would be harmful and that was all that kept her talking to her husband.
“I hope you forgive me if I have upset you.” She carried on without heeding her kin. “In case I am gone, I want you to be happy. To marry again and give Ewan brothers and sisters. You hear me?”
“Stop it, Freya.” He emitted, but his hand on her was not so steady now.
“Ha!” Ross continued. “I told the lass that if she did not leave you, I would kill you, McKendrick.” That mocking a disgusting interruption. “The lass scurried away like a mouse.”
The villains got down from their horses and paced to them.
“Promise me, Drostan.” She asked unafraid of the riffles approaching them
“No.” He said with finality. His glare never leaving the McPhersons.
“Promise me, please.” She pleaded not disguising the tears in her voice anymore.
“No.” He repeated, his arm pulling her to lean on his warm taut body.
Time froze around them. Fingal unable to do anything, held his ground.
“Where is the bairn?” James asked eager to draw blood.
“He is not here.” Her husband’s tone dripped loathing.
Ross did not look at his brother, but jerked his head to the carriage behind Freya and Drostan. James walked to it.
“When I say down, you throw yourself to the ground, got me?” Drostan murmured softly in her ear.
In the smallest of movements, she nodded. She would do anything for him, except let him die.
“The little wretch is not inside.” James proffered.
Ross’s eyes darted to his brother. It was the millisecond they needed.
“Down!” Drostan thundered and tumbled her to the ground, covering her with his frame.
Alarmed, Ross shot in their direction. As Drostan and Freya fell, the shot caught James on his arm and his disgraceful person thumped on the road screaming.
