The light of day had long since faded before the front door finally did open. In that time, Freya had consumed enough tea to make her bladder slosh and enough little cakes to render her nauseous. Then there had been the prattle between Ewan's mother and her own. The ailments, the balms and cures, and the discussion over how life had been twenty years prior.
Marian had headed into town earlier that day and had not yet returned either.
It had not concerned Freya until the world outside faded to dusk.
But then at last, the door opened. Freya leapt from where she'd perched on the seat beside the mothers. Only it was not Ewan who strode in, but Captain Crosby with Marian.
She sagged against him, her face pale. Even Captain Crosby’s usually rigid composure bent toward her.
“Marian.” Freya ran to her sister and eased her from the captain's hold.
The mothers leapt up from their seats as one, albeit a bit slower.
“Captain Crosby, what is the meaning of this?” Ma demanded.
The captain released Marian with obvious hesitation.
Freya shot a hard look up at him. “What's happened to her?”
“It is imperative I speak with you alone at once.” His gaze swept over Marian's pale face. Her lashes fanned over her cheeks like shadows and she swayed unexpectedly, upsetting Freya's balance.
“I want to know as well,” Ma said.
“As do I,” Lily declared. “And where is my son?”
Freya cast a glance at the English officer, who gave her a subtle shake of his head. He wanted to speak to Freya alone.
Freya had failed at nearly everything she attempted at her life in Callander, but this was where she excelled - turning a crisis into a manageable situation.
“Captain Crosby, I need yer help in bringing her to her room.” She regarded the two older mothers who fluttered around Marian like anxious hens. “I'll need ye two to see to her while I speak with the captain. No one knows more about ailments and their cures like ye ladies.”
The mothers looked at one another and nodded in silent agreement to Freya's praise. But Captain Crosby did not aid Freya in getting Marian to her room. He lifted her into his arms as if she were not massively huge with her pregnancy, but as if she weighed nothing at all. “Please show me to her room.”
Marian gave a mewl of protest, and her head fell limp against the captain's red wool jacket.
Freya led the way as quickly as she could with the captain following just as quickly. No sooner had he laid her in bed than the mothers descended upon her, barking their orders to the servants.
“Is she all right?” Freya asked anxiously.
Captain Crosby cast a long, worried look at Marian's pale form. “I hope so.” He held out a hand, indicating she lead him to a place they could speak privately. She did so, taking him to the room where they entertained all their guests - only now the room usually filled with sunlight was cast in the shadows of night.
“Marian was held for questioning,” Captain Crosby spoke as soon as the door closed behind them. “Only for an hour. I found out and immediately put a stop to it. I only wish I'd found out sooner.”
Anger exploded inside of Freya. “Questioning?” she hissed. “What sort of questioning would leave a woman pale and limp?”
“They didn’t hurt her. I asked.” His jaw clenched. “They interrogated her. About a soldier who deserted his post. A man of the Black Watch whose regiment was in Edinburgh at the time.”
Freya's insides quivered like poorly set jelly. She shot her chin up in a show of defiance, a mask to cover the tension gripping her body. “Why would they ask her about such a thing?” she demanded.
“Not many new men come to this area, and they knew about your husband's arrival. Orders have been issued to find the deserter and have him arrested.”
The air Freya pulled into her lungs did not seem nearly enough to placate her body. Her head was too light, her heart pounded too loud. “And what would happen to him?” she asked through numb lips, already knowing the answer.
“He would be tried, found guilty, and shot.”
“Did Marian know him?” she asked.
Captain Crosby shook his head, and Freya breathed out what she hoped was a discreet breath. She pressed her hands together to still their shaking and her palms immediately began to sweat. “Might you offer us a description so we can keep an eye out for this man?”
“Dark blond hair, blue eyes, tall with a strong physique.” Captain Crosby spoke slowly. Purposefully. “He may have been shot around the torso. We were warned to look for someone with a possible limp.”
Ewan had been limping through the house since his arrival.
“Have you seen a Captain Ewan Fraser?” Captain Crosby asked.
Freya's heart tried to pound through her chest. “Nay, I’ve no’ seen him.”
“With all due respect, your husband matches the description of Ewan Fraser.”
“He isna the man ye seek,” Freya said quickly. Too quickly. All pretense of smoothness had been frayed away by the hysteria blanketing her control.
Captain Crosby offered a slight bow. “I am a gentleman, my lady. I will accept the truth if it comes from your mouth.” He eyed her levelly. “Is your husband Ewan Fraser?”
“Nay,” Freya said with finality. “He is Ewan MacDonald.”
“Then I take you at your word, my lady.” He leaned closer. “Given your husband's...similar appearance to the man they seek, it would be prudent to leave the area for a bit. If there is this much import placed on this man's disappearance, he either knows something of great significance or has someone intending to see him brought down.” He paused. “Perhaps there are some relatives you might visit for a while? In another location?”
“Aye,” Freya said slowly. “I have family we can visit.” And by family, she meant Edinburgh, where she knew enough people to find a respectable place for the mothers and Marian to stay.
He nodded stiffly. “Excellent.” He bowed once and left the room, leaving her alone in the darkness.
He knew. Of course he knew. But he'd kept their secret. He'd saved Marian, he'd kept Ewan's identity safe, and he'd issued a warning. They needed to leave.
Now.
Freya pushed through the door of the room, out into the hall where the sound of shushed voices came from Marian's room. If the soldiers had merely questioned Marian as Captain Crosby had insisted, then most likely her younger sister was suffering from exhaustion and perhaps fright if she knew they were seeking Ewan. Marian's heart had always been so strong for others, it didn't leave much strength for herself.
The mothers would see to Marian with greater care and skill than she possessed. For now, Freya needed to find Ewan so they could escape. She yanked her cloak from where it hung on the wall, fastened it under her chin, and ran out into the freezing night to find her ‘husband.’
***