The problem was that merely relieving the earl of his life would not fully satisfy Finn’s vengeance. Since the moment he’d discovered what had happened, the need to expose Etteridge’s perfidy in public had been as compelling, if not more, than the need to end the earl’s life. Finn’s dark fantasy was to assure the earl knew the humiliation of his peer’s censure and social ostracization before he exacted retribution for a crime which no court in the land would be willing to convict a peer of the realm.
To do so now would automatically render Finn the primary suspect in the subsequent murder no matter how carefully planned. There was no way to assure he would come away unscathed.
God, he hated it when logic overrode impulse. Finn supposed he would have to thank Aila for making him see reason. Effie and Niall’s welfare ranked far above his need for vengeance.
And though he hadn’t dared to admit it before, so did Aila. He wanted her more than revenge.
And he could have her. He could have it all. There was no way he could risk his children becoming orphans. They had suffered enough.
It was Etteridge who should suffer.
To ensure that alone even if it guaranteed nothing more, Finn would have to pick and choose. Either the public spectacle or the private skewering. There was no way to have both.
“The man was a buffoon,” Etteridge jeered.
Finn’s teeth grated. Then it came to him. Aye, there was a way for him to have both. He should have seen it before.Och, why would he have ever considered an honorable solution when it came to the earl? The ponce didn’t deserve such civility. However, if it allowed Finn to put a pretty, proper bow on the entire affair under the guise off a challen—
“You are the only buffoon in this room, my dear.” The sweet female voice caught Finn off guard.
A cold, numbing fist encased his heart. Inching forward, he expanded his view of the room, revealing the frosty blonde. Clad in complementary shades of blue to Etteridge’s, she perched daintily on a chair not far from the earl.
Nay.
Dulled by the haze of disbelief, he didn’t see the peripheral attack before it hit him. Aila slammed into his side, driving him away from the door. Staggering under her weight, Finn hit his head on the protruding elbow of a suit of armor and saw black.
Nay, he saw white.
Chapter 30
Inveraray, Scotland
Present Day
“What the bloody hell?” Finn rolled onto his back uncertain whether he referred to the manner in which he’d been tackled to the ground or the sight of that woman next to the fireplace.
“I’m sorry.” Aila lay on top of him for a moment before she slid to the side and sat next to him. “I dinnae want to do it this way.”
His head was spinning, a vague sense of nausea clenched in his gut. Lifting his hand to his head, Finn thought he must have hit his head against that steel armor harder than he thought. “Do what? Why did ye run into me?”
“I had to stop ye from killing that man.”
Finn blinked open his eyes and stared at her. “I wisnae going to kill him.”
“Ye were ready to pull yer sword.”
“I was going to challenge Etteridge to a duel.” His eyes drifted away from her, against the glare of the sunshine that turned her coppery hair into a fiery halo.
Sunshine?
Aye, it beamed upon them from amid the arching branches of a tall, downy birch. One of many, along with wych elm, alder, and aspens. His body clenched in shock, fingers flexed and found a thick carpet of grass beneath him. The weather, cold and drizzling for most of the day, was mild and pleasant.
“A duel?” she went on as if the warm breeze that lifted the hair at her temples didn’t faze her. “Ye said vengeance. Ye spoke of revenge.”
Finn covered his eyes with one hand. When he looked again, surely the world would have righted itself. “Aye, exposing his perfidy to the world. I told ye, he raped my wife.”
“Aye, he deserves to be called out for his behavior. Can ye do that? Is it even legal?” she asked. “Gah, Finn, he could kill ye instead, couldnae he?”
His wife. Hiswife. It made no sense. He shook his head hard. “She killed herself.”
