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Freya had been to feasts before, but rarely to one of such magnitude, and never one that was for her. It was beyond anything she had ever imagined.
Brigid braided flowers into her hair. When she showed her how she looked, Freya didn’t recognize herself for a moment.
“Brigid, this is lovely.”
Brigid smiled. “Thank ye, me Lady. If ye like it so much, try to think how the Laird will enjoy the sight of it.”
“Brigid, are ye trying to make me blush?” Freya gasped, wishing she could scrub the redness off her cheeks.
She had never blushed so much in her life, but then she met Evander, and she couldn’t stop!
“Aye, a wee bit,” Brigid admitted with a laugh. “It suits ye. Brings out yer eyes.”
“Ye’re terrible.”
“I’m honest; there’s a difference.” Brigid stepped back and looked over her with a critical eye. “The hair is done. Now, we just have to make sure ye look the part of Lady MacArthur.”
Freya tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “For now.”
Brigid’s hands stilled. “Ye still mean to leave then, after everything?”
Freya didn’t answer right away. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing or disappoint Brigid after everything she had just done for her. The other woman was braiding her hair and taking time to help her get ready.
She was here for the babies and the babies alone. Brigid didn’t have to assist her. There were other servants for that.
“I daenae ken what I mean to do anymore,” Freya said.
“That’s a better answer than aye.”
“Is it?”
It was a question she had been asking herself for quite a while now. Was she going to stay after the three weeks ended?
So much had changed so fast, and she would be a fool to deny it. It took a big person to admit that there was something there.
She supposed she finally had to take that step.
“Ye think he’d want me to stay?” The words came out before she could stop them.
“Me Lady, is that an honest question?” Brigid asked, almost exasperated. “I thought it was obvious how much he wants ye to remain by his side.”
“He wants an heir,” Freya mumbled.
Brigid gave her a look. “Aye, and he could sire one with any lass in the Highlands, but he chose ye.”
“Brigid, have ye forgotten that he chose me because I was drunk and he was being kind?”
“Was he being kind last night too?”
Freya’s face turned bright red. “Brigid!”
“Well, I only speak the truth, me Lady.”
She couldn’t fault her for that, not one bit.
“I suppose I should finish getting ready,” she said. “I daenae want to keep me husband waiting.”
“Nay, ye daenae.” Brigid’s voice was laced with amusement.
