There was a long pause, the two of them staring at each other. Freya wasn’t entirely sure what she was asking, or what she was hinting at. The only thing she knew was that she wanted Brendan to stay here talking to her, and her heart was beating faster and faster with every passing minute.
“I think ye need to understand just how serious this situation is,” Brendan said at last. “It’s not just yer safety we ought to consider. Freya, if ye are found here, Laird Grahame will close down the convent and seize their land. He plans to say that yewere kidnapped and marry ye anyway, which means he needs somebody to accuse of kidnapping ye. Who do ye think that will be?”
Freya shivered. “The Abbess? Some of the sisters, perhaps?”
He nodded. “For many of the women here, this place is a lifeline. Abandoned babies are raised here, and the wounded—inside or outside—can come here to rest and recover. It’s an important part of the community. We have to protect St. Deborah’s, lassie. Stay here if ye want, but be careful, aye?”
She swallowed. “Aye. Aye, I’ll be careful.”
He gave a short nod, and began striding away down the hallway. They were getting closer to the kitchens and common areas of the Priory. Freya had always imagined convents to be serious, silent places, but she could hear the happy buzz of chatter and laughter drifting along. Her heart ached. When was the last time she’d been in a place with so much happiness?
“Wait,” she called, scurrying after Brendan. “When will I see ye again?”
He glanced down at her, exasperated. “I don’t know. Keep yer head down, lassie. Stay quiet. Think about taking orders.”
“I’m not sure I’d make a good nun.”
“Nay, I’m inclined to agree with ye there. I have to go, Freya. Think on what I’ve said, aye?”
They reached a small doorway set deep in the wall, and Freya realized with a jolt that Brendan had been leading the way. He unbolted it and opened it, stepping out into the cool night air.
“I’ll see ye soon,” she called after him. “Deep down, ye like me, I’m sure of it!”
He heaved a sigh and did not respond.
Chapter 6
Communitas
“Da, no! Please! Ye cannot leave me here.”
He wasn’t listening. Laird McInnes turned his back on his daughter, shaking his head. He made to stride out of the room, but Freya rushed after him, avoiding the grasping hands of the maids Laird Grahame had hired to watch her. She grabbed her father by the shoulders, flinging her arms around him.
“Please don’t leave me,” she whispered. “I’d forgive all of it—ye lying to me for months, forcing me into the carriage to come here—if ye just take me with ye now.”
Laird McInnes did not look down at his daughter, his only child. It was clear that they were father and daughter; they had the same red hair, the same cool blue eyes, the same pale, freckled faces and slim frames. Part of Freya wished she could have resembled her mother. She’d never known the woman, and it sometimes seemed that there was nothing left of her. Having a mother was meant to be wonderful.
“This is how it must be, Freya,” the Laird said, his voice stiff and hard. “We make sacrifices for our people. I wish ye couldhave done this with more grace, but what’s done is done, I suppose.”
Abruptly, he pulled back, pushing her way. The maids came forward with their grasping hands, but he waved them away.
“Leave us,” he said shortly. “This place is like a fortress. She cannot escape.”
The maids exchanged glances, but reluctantly shuffled out of the room, leaving Freya and her father alone.
He took a step back, out of arm’s reach.
“Have I not been a good father to ye, Freya?” he said, voice hard. “Have I not indulged yer every whim, and let ye have what ye wanted? When ye wished to learn archery, I let ye. When ye did not wish to learn to play the lute, I let ye stop. Ye roamed the country with all the freedom ye could wish. Anything ye wanted could be yers, just for the asking. And here I am, asking one thing of ye; to marry the man I chose for ye. One thing, and ye cannot do it. Why not?”
Freya swallowed thickly, hot tears streaking down her cheeks. “I never wanted those things, Da, I just… I just wanted ye! I wanted us to spend time together, I wanted?—”
“Ye wanted, ye wanted! Nothing is ever enough for ye. See if Laird Grahame indulges ye like I did. Because this is for the good of the clan, and this marriageishappening, lass.”
“I can’t stand him, Da. He’s cruel, he’s violent, he’sold?—”
“Silence! This is happening, Freya. I’m sorry, but I can’t stop it. I won’t stop it.”
She reached out to take his hand, but Laird McInnes pulled free, and stormed over to the door. He paused, one hand on the handle, and glanced over his shoulder.
