Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
T hough the morning had begun pleasantly for James, with him waking up in Freya’s arms and the two of them sharing a few slow, unhurried kisses before they got up to start the day, now it was proving to be more and more unpleasant.
“Where are they?” James demanded as he reached the two cells that were meant to be holding the men who had attacked Freya just the previous night. He had given explicit orders to the guards to lock them up and keep an eye on them, but now the dungeons were completely empty. There was nothing there but the damp draft that came from the cracks in the door and the crackling of the torches as they burned on the walls, the heavy breathing of the guards filling the silence.
“Where are they?” James repeated in a roar. The two guards flinched, but neither of them said a thing. They only glanced at each other, their faces turning a sickly pale shade.
James walked up to one of them—the younger one, who would not even look him in the eye. He didn’t stop until he was right in his face, lips twisting into a snarl.
“I asked ye a question.”
“I… I dinnae ken,” the man said. “I swear it. I dinnae ken. The cells were empty when we came here fer our rotation.”
James cursed under his breath. Someone—presumably Alastair himself—had let the men escape and now James would never get the full truth out of them or the chance to have them punished for treason.
“Who stood guard afore ye?” he asked.
“We dinnae ken,” mumbled the other man, shaking his head. “Forgive me, but whoever they were, they were long gone by the time we came here.”
James cursed once more, but this time loudly, his voice echoing off the walls of the dungeons. It was dark in there, and chilly, the only light and warmth provided by the torches, and he didn’t want to waste more time in there than he had to.
Those men either didn’t know or didn’t want to tell him the truth. Either way, he could hardly punish without being sure which it was.
He would simply have to find out who had guarded the dungeons before them and go from there. Sooner or later, he would get to the culprit, but for now he only turned on his heel and left the dungeons, stomping his way up the stairs.
His father’s study was even more welcoming than usual after the dungeons. A bright fire burned in the fireplace and the thick carpet under James’ feet provided the space with the kind of warmth that did wonders to the soul. And yet, the two people in front of him seemed anything but warm, their piercing eyes staring right through him.
James sat across from his father, his fingers steepled under his chin as he looked between him and his mother. Once again, the two of them were side by side, presenting a united front—his father in his seat, tapping his fingers restlessly against the desk, and his mother standing next to him, still and calm as a pillar.
They could both be affectionate people; they had always been caring and loving with him and his siblings while they were growing up, and they had never stopped. Until now. He was aware that all this also came from a place of love, but it wasn’t the kind of love James needed from them.
“I understand why ye’re concerned,” he said, trying to remain as calm and diplomatic as possible. “I understand that this may seem strange tae ye and that it interferes with all the plans ye have made fer me and the clan. But please try tae see me point of view.”
“How many times must we tell ye that what ye desire is irrelevant?” his mother asked. “How many times must I explain tae ye that the wellbeing of the clan comes first?”
“I dinnae understand why ye think me being with Freya would be so bad for the clan!” James said, his frustration threatening to get the better of him. “She will be an asset tae the clan. She is a very skilled healer and she has the kindest soul. Ye have simply decided that she isnae good enough fer me because she’s a commoner!”
“Of course!” his mother said. “Ye are meant tae wed a noble lass like Evelyn. It is ye who daesnae understand and I cannae imagine why. We didnae raise ye like this. We didnae raise ye tae doubt us or tae be so selfish.”
“Selfish!” James exclaimed, shooting up out of his seat to pace around the small room. “Selfish? It is ye both who are being selfish, trying tae force me tae wed a woman I dinnae love.”
“We only want what is best fer ye,” his father said. “And fer the clan. The clan’s best interests are yer best interests as well.”
James shook his head with a humorless laugh. No matter what he said, no matter how hard he tried to convince his parents this was not what he wanted, they would never listen to him. How could he explain this to them? How could he make them see that he would never change his mind when it came to Freya?
She was the woman he loved. No other woman had brought him so much joy. No other woman had ever made him feel so grateful simply for meeting her and having her in his life.
“Did ye have something tae dae with the attack on Freya?”
It was the one question he had been terrified to ask. He dreaded the possibility that his parents had had something to do with it, and so when his father slammed his fist on the desk, standing up as well to glare at him, a part of him was relieved at his outrage.
“How dare ye accuse us of such a thing?” his father asked, his face twisting in rage. “We may nae wish fer ye tae wed the lass but yer maither and I would never dae such a thing!”
“Dae ye ken they’ve escaped?” James asked, his head whipping to the side to stare at his father. “The two men who tried tae take her away? Yer own men?”
For a moment, his father said nothing, his lips pursing into a thin line. Then, he slowly lowered himself to his chair and took a deep breath, running a hand through his graying hair.
“I learned about that, aye,” he said. “And rest assured I will dae anything in me power tae find out what, precisely, happened. We may disagree with yer choice, but that daesnae mean that we wish the lass any harm. She, too, is our guest and she will be treated accordingly. Is that nae right, Kathryn?”
James’ mother glanced at his father, but did not respond.
She knew something. James had expected her to give an answer, no matter how noncommittal—anything to show that she didn’t want to cause Freya any harm. When she said nothing, though, a pang of suspicion pierced through his chest and he avoided his mother’s gaze. If there was even a hint of guilt in it, he couldn’t bear to see it.
“That still daesnae mean we will accept her as yer wife,” his father added, causing James to roll his eyes at him. “Ye must wed a lass of yer station, James. Ye must dae what is best fer everyone.”
“I love Freya!” James insisted, his frustration finally bubbling over as he threw his hands in the air. “I love her and I will have her as me wife.”
He was certain at this point that his parents knew about Campbell’s involvement in what had happened to Freya. But had they known before or after the fact? And how long had they planned to protect him instead of giving him the punishment he deserved?
They’ll never punish him. They still want this marriage too much.
“Enough,” he said through gritted teeth, eyes narrowing in a glare as he turned to face his mother. “It is time ye accept Freya and stop pushing her away. Me decision is final.”
Before either his father or his mother could argue with him, James stomped out of the room, eagerly searching for an outlet for his frustration. Confronting Alastair himself would be the best kind of outlet for his rage.