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“They take me out once every two days an’ the guards pour a bucket o’ water over me,” Rowan answered bitterly. “There. Does that not make ye happy?”
Fraser shivered at the very thought of this. Despite himself, he considered this kind of treatment unnecessary, but he shrugged in a noncommittal way. “It is no’ my place tae say,” he replied. “The laird is the person I serve and trust, and I must abide by his judgment.”
Rowan threw back his head and laughed heartily. “Ooh, ye always know the right thing tae say when the laird is about, Fraser.” His voice was mocking.
“Well, I was goin’ tae ask him tae give ye another blanket,” Fraser told him, folding his arms and staring at the other man, “but I have changed my mind.”
Despite himself, he could not take any pleasure in the fleeting look of disappointment that crossed Rowan’s face. He cursed himself for his softness. He should have been feeling victorious, but instead he was feeling sorry for the man who had tried to kill him, just because he was languishing in a dungeon. If the positions had been reversed, Rowan would have been glorying in his triumph.
Suddenly, Fraser could stand it no more, and he turned to the laird. “Forgive me, M’Laird, but I have things to do.”
“One more wee dram for the road?” the other man suggested.
Fraser laughed, and they walked back out into the daylight, leaving Rowan to glare daggers at their backs.
* * *
When they were back in the laird’s study, Fraser sat down opposite him and said thoughtfully, “Do ye think he is really sufferin’, M’Laird?”
Gordon Gilchrist’s grey eyes narrowed as he looked at Fraser. “Surely you are not feeling sorry for him?” he asked in disbelief. “The swine tried to kill you, for God’s sake!”
Fraser nodded slowly. “I know I should no’, but no matter how many things he has done…” He trailed off and sighed. “Give him an extra blanket. Among a’ the bad, a lot o’ good has come from this, M’Laird.”
The other man looked interested. “How is that?” he asked. “I cannot see anything positive in the events of the last few weeks. Is there something you know that I do not?”
“Yes.” Fraser’s face broke into a wide grin. “I have met the love of my life, the woman I want tae marry.”
The laird chuckled at Fraser’s obvious joy. “May I know her name?”
“Evanna Mulholland,” he answered, waiting for the laird’s angry retort. “I promised to go back for her, and I will. She is everything to me.” He looked at the other man defiantly, fingering the dagger at his waist. He would do anything to keep her.
He need not have worried, however. “You know, Fraser, I fell in love with Carrie the first time I saw her,” the laird said dreamily. His eyes were far away, looking into the past. “She was not wildly beautiful, and she was not wonderfully intellectual, but she was kind and generous. She loved almost everybody. When we were introduced, our gazes locked, and when I looked into those big brown eyes, that was that. I was head over heels in love. I think I proposed to her the next week, but I would have done it there and then if we had been left alone.”
“Did she say ‘yes’ straight away?” Fraser asked, intrigued.
“Yes—and she asked me what had taken me so long!” He laughed at the memory. “She has not changed a bit, and she has given me three wonderful children. I am a truly happy man, Fraser, the happiest man I know, and if your young Evanna can do the same for you, then please go and marry her as soon as you can.” Then he laughed. “I can see that nothing I could say would change your mind anyway.”
“Nothin’ at a’, M’Laird,” Fraser agreed firmly. “The lady has a strong will. She will no’ let go easily.”
Gordon looked at him and saw the young man he had been twenty years before, full of love, hope, and idealism. He was still in possession of most of those qualities, but the years had tempered them with wisdom and dulled the glow of his idealism. However, he could deal with the ravages of age as long as he had his Carrie.
“When will the wedding be?” he asked.
“If she accepts me, M’Laird, then as soon as possible,” Fraser answered eagerly. “I want tae make Evanna my wife as soon as I can. If I could do it right this minute, I would, but I have no’ even asked her yet.”
Laird Gilchrist thought for a moment. “If and when she accepts you, Fraser,” the laird said, “I would like to offer you a wedding present I know you will both like.”
“M’Laird, there is nothing I need,” Fraser protested. “If Evanna accepts me, I will have everything I could ever dream o’.”
“No, but I know you will want this, and your wife certainly will.” The laird leaned forward across the desk and began to tell Fraser what he had in mind.
Slowly, a wide smile spread across Fraser’s face, and he shook his head in disbelief. “Are ye sure ye want tae do this, M’Laird?” he asked incredulously.
The other man nodded. “I do. Do you think she will like it?”
“I think she will love it.” Fraser could not keep the grin from his face as he stood up. “Thank ye, M’Laird, but I will accept now for both of us. I am going tae keep it as a surprise for her.”
“Then I will begin to make arrangements.” He smiled. “And to meeting Evanna. Both of you are welcome here and anywhere else on the estate. Now go and run back to your lady before she finds someone else!”
