“Ye swear it?” she whispered.
He nodded, resting his forehead against hers. “For ye, Freya, I’d do anything.”
She was kissing him before she knew what she was doing, her arms sliding around his neck. He gripped her waist, pulling her in tight against him, and she gasped into his mouth, nipping his lower lip.
Freya was faintly aware of voices and approaching footsteps, maybe belonging to the advisors. They halted abruptly and hastily hurried away. She bit back a smile.
Best to give us a minute, lads,she thought, amused.
“I’ve wanted ye in the worst way, Freya,” he gasped, when they broke apart to breathe. “Let’s schedule the wedding soon, eh?”
She grinned, pressing her nose against the side of his neck.
“I think that’s a very good idea.”
“Just a moment, though,” he said, pressing a kiss against her forehead, and twisted to shout after the frantically retreating men. “Lads! I’m going to need somebody to take a message to the Priory of St. Deborah. As well as that, ye’ll need to pop by a wee farm nearby—I need somebody to fetch my dog!”
Two Days Later…
The Keep was alive in a way it had never been, or so Maggie kept saying. She was thrilled to be Freya’s chief lady-in-waiting, although she was admittedly not very good at it.
That didn’t matter. If Freya was to be Lady Grahame, she had to make friends, and quickly. The old laird had left too many enemies behind him for them to rest on their laurels.
The wedding celebration had been hastily cooked up. On account of the hardships the common folks were facing, Brendan had decided to have a modest feast and celebration, and Freya agreed with him.
We’ll be a new type of laird and lady,she thought.We’ll be the kind who take care of their people, whocarefor them.
Of course, time would tell, and that was what the rest of the Highlands were waiting to see, all the other clans and their rulers—what time would say about the new Laird Grahame and his Lady.
She was determined they’d be impressed.
Of course, change started at home, and already plans had been put in motion to pull back the soldiers still loyal to Laird Grahame and stop the slaughter and atrocities in outlying villages. Steps were being outlined to stop the starvation in some parts of the clan, and to unify and make peace with other clans that the previous laird had estranged.
In short, there was a lot of work to be done. Freya was equal parts terrified and thrilled at the challenge.
After all, I won’t be doing it alone. I’ll be doing it with myhusband.
The word sent a thrill through her, where once it had been full of dread and foreboding. The wedding was set to take place that day, although a few very important guests had not yet arrived.
Freya was pacing up and down the battlements, wind whipping her hair and skirts about her, looking down at the land surrounding the Keep.
“Can’t we go in, m’lady?” Maggie pleaded, teeth chattering. “I’mfrozen.”
“Just a bit longer, Maggie,” Freya responded. “I’m waiting for someone.”
As she spoke, a procession of women—nuns—came out of the trees, heading straight for the Keep. Sucking in a breath, Freya peered over the battlements, the dizzying height no longer a source of anxiety.
There were various men and women around the outside of the walls, workers, farmers, foragers, and so on, and all of them stopped to gawk at the procession of nuns making their way grandly towards the Keep.
The Abbess led the way, head held high, a faint smile on her face. Behind her followed a train of nuns, some of whom Freya recognized, some of whom she didn’t.
She recognized the pair of young women gathered together, directly behind the Abbess.
“Kyla!” Freya yelled, waving her arm frantically. “Kyla! Astrid!”
The wind whipped away her words. The Abbess didn’t seem to hear, but Kyla paused, putting a hand on Astrid’s arm. The two girls looked around, and then Kyla finally looked up. She gave a shriek of delight, pointing upwards. All of them began to jump up and down, waving madly.
They had sent letters, of course. Freya had written to the convent and the Abbess almost as soon as Brendan had asked her to marry him. It was a long letter, pleading for forgiveness and explaining the situation. She hadn’t known whether to expect letters back or not.
