The memory of last night came rushing back to her. It had been quite a long night, one that had begun with Dougal’s honor service and had ended with her giving into the exhaustion she had been victim of the for the past few days. Learning the name of the person who had killed her uncle, who had sent her into a pit of despair and self-deprecation after her Murdock and Henry died, did not feel as good as she had thought it would. There was still a heavy feeling on her heart, thinking about Jamilyn’s crying face as Jonet had walked away from her.
Only one person had made the night better and as she had fallen asleep in his arms, Jonet felt safer than ever. She sat up groggily, running her hand through her hair as she swept the room. He was not here.
At that moment, the door opened, and Freya slipped in. She blinked when she saw Jonet sitting up in bed.
“Ah,” she said. “Ye’re awake.”
“Shouldnae I be?” Jonet’s voice was croaky, a testament to the fact that she had slept well and heavy during the night. She discreetly tried to clear it.
“Ye were so tired last night, I thought you wouldnae wake until it was past midday,” Freya stated matter-of-factly. She came a step closer. “Ye still look tired.”
“Thank ye for pointin’ that out, but I’ve never felt better.” It was the truth. She climbed out of bed, using more energy than she had expected. Her limbs were still heavy, clearly not wanting to leave the bed. She padded over to the window and peered out.
“Are ye lookin’ for someone?”
Jonet jumped. She had not heard when Freya came up behind her. She turned to see the calm woman gazing back at her, her brows lifted.
“Matthew,” Jonet responded, resting a hand on her still pounding heart. “Have ye seen him?”
“Aye, Miss Jonet.”
Jonet frowned. “Is he alreday having breakfast? Without me?”
“Nay, Miss Jonet.”
Jonet blew breath out her nose, frustrated. “If there is some secret, why daenae ye tell me already instead of givin’ me those simple replies?”
Freya only shrugged, but her eyes sparkled. “Then it wouldnae make much of a secret, would it? Would ye like to get ready, Miss Jonet? Perhaps have me style yer hair very nicely?”
Jonet watched as Freya ventured over to her wardrobe. She took a few steps back until she was sitting on the edge of her bed, curiosity, and excitement swirling within her.
“Ye ken somethin’, daenae ye?” she asked. “What is it? Does Matthew have somethin’ planned for me?”
“I cannae say.”
Her mind was already racing with the possibilities. She held back her smile, remembering what she had overheard Georgie say before he had been struck by the bowl to his shoulder. Matthew had been wanting to plan something romantic for her. Had he figured out what he would do? Did he plan to give her a romantic proposal?
She bit her tongue to hold back the questions, waiting for Freya to return to her. She studied Freya’s face, and the neutral expression she always wore. Jonet had always found it difficult to read Freya, always wondering what was going through her mind, but now, she saw something shift in her eyes, a quiet excitement—or perhaps determination?—that made her heart flutter.
Matthew must have asked Freya to help him. Oh, goodness, he’s so romantic!
“I’m surprised, Miss Jonet,” Freya said.
“Surprised? Surprised about what?”
If she thought Jonet’s overeager response were a little odd, Freya did not make it obvious. “It is clear that ye want to ask me somethin’ and yet it seems as if ye are refrainin’.”
“Ye said ye wouldnae spoil the secret.”
“As would be right of me to do. I couldnae very well reveal it the very first time ye ask, now could I?”
Freya laid a dark green dress out, pairing it with a moss-colored shawl. She came to stand before Jonet, running her fingers through Jonet’s hair with more force than she normally would. She gripped it lightly and pulled Jonet’s head back so that she was looking up at her. There was a wild look in her eys. “Would ye prefer if ye figured it out? How about we make it a little more entertainin’ other than me just tellin’ ye?”
“Entertainin’?”
“Aye. Ye are always eager for such things. It would be easy for ye.”
Freya returned her head to the right position and began to massage Jonet’s scalp, then ran her fingers down to untangle the knots Jonet had developed during her sleep. Jonet thought about it and let her excitement do the answering.
“That sounds perfect! What do ye have in mind?”
“Well, by now, I’m sure ye are aware that I ken where Mr. McDulaigh is. If ye can figure it out, then I will tell ye if yer right.”
“That seems simple enough.” She thought about it for a moment. Freya began pulling her hair into tight braids, from the front of her hair into the middle. It was one of Jonet’s favorite hairstyles. “Is he huntin’? Does he plan to bring somethin’ back for me?”
“He doesnae plan to bring anythin’ back.”
“Then that means he isnae in the Castle. He’s somewhere out there and he doesnae plan to bring anythin’ back. Is he waitin’ for me somewhere?”
“Ye are quite good at this, Miss Jonet.” Freya had a smile in her voice.
Jonet went on confidently. She watched the shadows stretch along the ground as the sun steadily continued to rise. Any lingering fatigue she had felt was gone. Her body was now thrumming with excited energy.
“Is it the pool?” she asked.
“Nay.”
“The loch?”
There was a pause. Then a rush of air in what sounded oddly like a sigh.
“Aye, Miss Jonet. Ye’ve already figured it out. Mr. McDulaigh is waiting for ye at the loch. It seems he has somethin’ planned, but he dinnae tell me the details of it.”
“Oh, he’s so wonderful.” Jonet sighed. She hardly felt the slight throbbing of her scalp as Freya coaxed the other side of her hair into small braids. “And to think that I was so opposed to him when he first came here. I thought he had somethin’ terrible up his sleeve, ye ken? I was completely against him because I couldnae trust him and that much-too-perfect smile. Now, I daenae ken if I can imagine me life without him.”
“Do ye think he will propose again?”
“I think so. I hope so.” She did not want to get her hopes up, but it hardly mattered. Proposal or not, she was happy that she would be spending the day with him. After the threat had been taken care of too, when she would not need to be looking over her shoulder wondering where the next arrow would be coming from, she would be even happier to stay by his side.
“I couldnae be happier for ye,” Freya started on the back of her hair, pulling all the braids together into one large braid that would sit heavily in the center of her back. “Ye have a love that many would envy.”
Jonet said nothing. Her mood fell a bit, but she did not want Freya to notice. It was true that she had such a love, one that she would cherish for the rest of her life. Yet it was certainly a love that was envied, and that envy had taken away pieces of her heart bit by bit over the past six years.
Silence settled over them as Freya finished her styling and helped Jonet into her dress. As time went on, Jonet’s excitement came rushing back and when it was time for her to set out to see him, she could not hold it in. She smiled at nearly everyone she went by, gave Fenella a stunted apple before mounting her and, with Freya following on another steed, she set out towards the loch.
“Did Matthew say he wanted ye to escort me?” Jonet asked once the Castle was growing distant behind them.
Freya did not look at her. Her horse had gone a little ahead and Jonet could now only see the side of her, her jaw set.
“Aye,” she said. “He wished for my help with somethin’ but I willnae stay. Once that is finished, I will give ye two yer privacy.”
That only made Jonet wonder all the more what could be in store for her. She was lost in her thoughts, her mind a whirlpoo
l of possibilities that she did not say much as they continued their way there. Freya did not seem to mind the silence. In fact, the few times Jonet had looked at her, Freya looked just as deep in thought as she was.
When the shine of the loch could be seen in the distance, Jonet’s heart began to race. She nearly took off, but she calmed herself and continued at the normal pace. As they drew nearer, she began to scan the bank, looking for Matthew, but he was nowhere to be seen.
“Where is he?” Jonet asked.
“Ye should be patient, Miss Jonet,” Freya’s voice was a little sharp. She reached the bank first and had already dismounted by the time Jonet did.
Confusion bled through Jonet.
She drew nearer, searching for signs of Matthew and found none. The shimmery water was still. Stones crunched under her feet as she walked to the very edge, half wondering if Matthew might have been hiding underneath. It was a foolish thought, but she could not help but check.
Only her reflection shone back at her, bearing her confused face and her foolish expression. Then everying sank into place.
Jonet’s blood ran cold. She froze, not daring to move, listening to any sound behind her. It was as if the world had stopped moving too, save for the gentle wind that whistled by. She did not want to turn around, did not want to face the truth that she should have figured out a long time ago. Jonet prayed that she was wrong and that her suspicious thoughts were baseless and stupid.
Slowly, she turned, listening to those crunching stones that cracked as sharply as whips in her ears. Her eyes lifted, up from the ground, past Freya’s waist and up to her sneering face.
“Ye really are quite foolish, ye ken,” Freya said.
Jonet could hardly breathe. In her hand, Freya held a bow and arrow, and the nock was drawn, with an arrowhead pointed directly at her heart.
Chapter 28
Jonet could hear her heart pounding in her ears. The world seemed to slow to a halt as she took in the arrow directed at her. Sweat ran slowly down the back of her neck as she dared to swallow past her dry throat, trying to find her voice.
“Daenae bother sayin’ anythin’,” Freya snapped. “I daenae want to hear it. It’s me time to talk.”
Jonet nodded jerkily. She chanced taking a step closer to her and froze when Freya only positioned herself straighter. It would only take the slightest move for that arrow to embed itself in Jonet’s heart. She could not take any more risks.
She felt tears burning the back of her throat, but she struggled to keep herself together. It did not make sense to her. Even as she stared at the proof, as that proof was aimed at her heart, Jonet could not believe that this was happening. She was praying for an excuse, for some explanation that would somehow alleviate Freya of all responsibility.
“Alright,” she rasped. “Ye can tell me everythin’. Did… did someone make ye do this?”
Freya only stared at her for a few moments, and then a slow derisive grin stretched across her face. Jonet could not believe this was the same person who had dried her tears and helped her out of bed when she had been too distraught to do anything herself. The same person who had come to check on her throughout the day and had nursed her back to health when her crying had brought on a cold. That same Freya she had always struggled to learn more about was plain as day now, that grin a window into her soul.
Jonet did not like what she saw, and she knew she would not like what she was about to hear.
“Ye really daenae ken me, do ye?” Freya tilted her head to the side. “I suppose that is me fault, though. I was simply too good at actin’. And ye were too dumb to realize what was right under yer nose all along.”
Jonet let out a sob without warning. She refused to cry right now and tried valiantly to pull the tears back, but she knew she would die here. She knew that she could not possibly dodge that arrow. At least, she hoped she would have all the answers she wanted before she sank lifelessly to the bottom of the loch.
“Why?” she rasped. “Why would ye do all this?”
“Because I had to!” Freya’s eyes were wide and wild. The wind had attacked them both during their ride to the loch and Freya’s hair was blowing madly from her braid, whipping at her face. She did not seem to notice. “Ye daenae ken how me life has been for the past six years, Jonet. Ye cannae begin to understand.”
“Please. Please let me understand. I daenae ken what I did to deserve all this. I thought we were friends, Freya.”
“Of course, ye thought that.” Freya snorted. “Let me ask ye a question, Jonet. Are ye friends with Jonathan?”
Jonathan? What could he possibly have to do with all this?
“Aye, we are.”
“Ye are, are ye? Do ye ken that he is the youngest of six brothers and four sisters? That he shows more potential as a war chieftain than the last one did considering his growth in so little years? Do ye ken that he cannae eat anything with wheat in it and it troubles him so because he loves cakes? Do ye even ken anythin’ about him?”
Jonet opened her mouth to respond, but she did not know what to say.
Freya would not even give her a chance. Her hands stayed steady and true even as her voice rose to heights Jonet had never even thought possible for her. The composed woman she had known was no longer present.
“Ye cannae possibly ken that he trains from dusk to dawn at least three times within a week and still manages to keep up with Dougal during their trainings together. Or that when the sun hits his eyes, they sometimes look greener than they do brown. And that he isnae nearly as quiet as ye would think he is, but prefers to watch all that’s happenin’ around him instead? If ye were truly his friend, if ye truly cared about him in the slightest, then ye would ken this much.”
Oh. Oh!
Jonet only stared at her. Freya’s eyes were wide, filled with anger, her words echoing around her.
Jonet waited a few beats before she said, “Ye are in love with him.”
“Ye daenae deserve him.” Freya tightened her lips, and her eyes narrowed. “Ye wouldnae care for him and treasure him the way I have. I’ve spent years lookin’ out for him in ways that ye cannae believe and what do I get in return? Cast aside as if I’m nothin’.”
“Ye arenae nothin’, Freya,” Jonet said desperately. It felt as if all her senses were becoming too much. The sun was too hot, her tongue too dry, the wind too cold, the roaring in her ears much too loud. Her fear too tangible. Jonet focused on Freya, knowing that if she had any chance of getting out of this alive, it would be through her words. “Ye are beautiful,” Jonet spoke softly. “Ye are so, so smart and intuitive and ye may nae ken this but ye’ve always given me the best advice. While ye’ve been by me side, I’ve cherished havin’ someone as strong and as reliable as ye are and Jonathan is a fool if he cannae see that. But… but ye can make him see it, if ye want to.”
“Ye daenae think I’ve tried?” Freya shouted, making Jonet recoil. “I’ve done all that I can for him, and I’ve received nothing. While ye have it all!”
“What are ye—”
“Ye daenae ken, do ye?” Freya laughed. Jonet held her breath. Watching her become more and more unstable was like watching any chances of her leaving the loch alive slip away. “Of course, ye daenae. Ye’ve been so caught up in yer own life that ye cannae see what is right before ye.”
“What are ye talkin’ about?” Jonet did not dare to say it, would not believe that it was true.
Freya only laughed, a harsh sound that was devoid of all humor. “For so many years I’ve pined for one man and he’s been pinin’ for a woman who hasnae even glanced in his direction.”
“That cannae be—”
“He loves ye, Jonet! He’s loved ye for years. He’s never once looked at me because all he can see is ye and I hate ye for it!” Freya’s voice cracked. From the distance, Jonet could see her eyes filling with tears, though her face was still twisted in her anger. “Do ye ken what it feels like to watch the man ye love run after someone else? And that woman do
esnae even have the decency to look at him? Ye’ve been so caught up in yer own pitiful life that ye cannae see what’s around ye. Ye think the world is yers, that everyone should march to yer beat. It’s nae happenin’ anymore.”
“I daenae think that,” Jonet gasped. “I dinnae—how could I have kent?”
“I daenae want to hear it.” Freya cocked the arrow higher. Jonet swallowed, her limsb seizing with fear. “I willnae let ye live a second longer when ye’ve stolen the only thing I’ve ever loved.”
Highlander's Trials of Fire: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 24
