“It is nae tale.” Aila scrambled to her feet and pointed to the remnants of her disguise on the floor. “How do ye think I got that? That dinnae come from around here.”
Given her foibles and enigmatic air, did she truly believe that he’d be taken in by such nonsense? Today of all days? Being played for a fool only roused his indignation. Ire that stirred the embers of the fury he’d set aside to hear her out. Anger feeding anger. Mixed together to boil within him once more.
“Ye think I’m fool enough to believe ye?” He retrieved his coat and shrugged it on, not bothering with his waistcoat or cravat. “Aye, ye maun if ye believe I’m fool enough to cut a man down in broad daylight. I’ve had more than a year to consider my course. I’m clever enough that if I’m going to commit an act of due vengeance, nae one will ever ken it was me.”
“Vengeance?” She caught his arm. “Call it what ye like, Finn. It’s murder plain and simple. How would Niall and Effie feel if they knew what ye’re planning? What will come of them when ye leave them orphaned because of this nonsense?”
He shook her off and spun around to fix her with a hard look. “Ye leave my bairns out of this.”
Snatching up his scabbard, he belted it around his waist and stabbed the sword into it as if it were Etteridge’s heart. With the hounds of hell at his heels, he stormed out of the room.
“Finn, listen to me, please!”
He’d hear no more from her. Long strides carried him down the hall, down the stairs while her voice rose to summon him back. She didn’t follow straightaway. A modicum of modesty would prevent her from chasing him without first making herself presentable. She would though, he was certain. The lass was like a dog with a bone when it pleased her. At the bottom of the staircase, he hesitated.
“Finn, ye stubborn arse, stop!”
Clearly, her modesty totaled a sum far less than a modicum if she were so close behind. Aila had been spending too much time with Ian if she would go to such lengths to sway him. He could heed her call, save her from the embarrassment of appearing in the hall as she was. He could cut to the right to the bailey to avoid her. If the main hall roused her trepidation, she’d never follow him down that tight, dark passage.
Voices echoed through the one leading to the servants’ hall, Ian’s easily recognizable among them. Taking the route to the left, he ran away from Aila, away from Ian and toward the source of his troubles. He’d asked enough questions over the past year to know it was the duke’s habit to host his guests in the solar for drinks followed by a feast with more of the same. Bottles and kegs aplenty, if the gossip were correct.
By the early hours of the morning, Etteridge would either pass out in the solar or flat on his face in his bedchamber. It would be nothing to slip into his chamber and slit his throat. The satisfaction wouldn’t be as keen. Finn wanted the earl to see his face. To have his sins exposed and know he would soon be bending a knee to Lucifer himself.
Aye, he wanted the world to know the atrocities he’d committed, the life lost.
“Finn, please dinnae do something ye’ll regret. Stop!”
Finn hastened his step and adjusted his route to evade her. He knew where he was going. Aila would not. Once he confronted Etteridge, there would be no retreat. Nothing either of them could do to stop him, even if they joined forces. What a pair! Ian had much to say about Aila, encouraging him in her direction. For all Finn knew, Ian had brought her to Inveraray for this very purpose.
To distract him and waylay his plans.
The thought made his head spin. Was it possible? Fantasy? As fantastic as her claim that she came from a time far beyond his? Of all the gibberish she’d spouted, none was so bizarre. What angered him the most was that Aila must hold little respect for him and his intelligence to attempt to deceive him so. He’d thought she was coming to care for him, that her affection was real.
Och, he didn’t have any idea what was real any longer.
That wasn’t true. Finn knew he was a good father, even if he had been overly lax with his offspring of late. He loved and cared for them. He would give up his life to keep them safe. The path he’d chosen to walk was as much for them as it was for him.
Who would provide them succor if he failed?
If his honor cost him his life?
Nearing the solar, he slowed. He’d admonished Aila for invoking his children in her argument. How was it that never once had he done so on his own? Abstractly, he’d considered his vengeance on their behalf. Retribution for the loss of their mother.
Never had he considered the aftermath beyond his triumph. She was right. If his plans went awry, what would become of them?
Finn stopped just outside the door with a partial view of the room beyond. As he suspected, the duke was within, along with almost a dozen more lords and several ladies as well. Etteridge stood by the fireplace. He was well into his cups already, if his overblown pomposity were any indication.
“…not unlike our entrance into Glasgow, eh Argyll? He had the gall to touch the hem of my coat, as if a mere bishop were worthy of my favor!”
Fingers itching, Finn stroked the hilt of his sword. The earl was such a…what was that term Aila had wielded so humorously? Twat waffle? Aye, it suited the ponce.
“So I condescended to speak to the buffoon in his own language.Away ye and chew my banger, I said.”
Etteridge deserved a dagger to the heart for mocking his own countrymen. Finn would be doing everyone in that room a favor if he went in there and accused the earl of his heinous crimes.
Bugger it, Aila was right. In this, at least. He couldn’t simply walk in there, accuse Etteridge, and slide his sword into the bastard’s black heart without repercussions.
Not that he intended to. He wasn’t such a fool, contrary to Aila’s opinion. When it came to the act itself, he was smart enough to do it covertly without leaving a clue behind for authorities to follow. No one would ever know it was him.
