Erik arrived in the great hall to find the servants rushing around to set the family table, with the family nowhere in sight. He located the sideboard that contained the ale and whiskey and poured a mug full, taking a long draw.
The ale was swirling around in his stomach when Finley made an appearance. For a moment, they just stared at each other, and Erik noted that she had too washed, her hair still wet as it brushed her shoulders. She was dressed as she had been before, but there was no doubt in Erik’s mind that she had a trim figure underneath her clothing.
His cock stirred to life, and he clamped his jaw shut, forcing himself to think of other things. He couldn’t let his need get in the way of his reasoning for being here.
Especially now that he knew who she was.
“Good evening,” he finally said, inclining his head.
“Good evening,” she responded tightly, clasping her hands before her. “I see that ye have already found the ale.”
Erik located another mug and poured the ale to the brim, holding it out. “Would ye like one?”
She sniffed as she crossed the room and to his side, reaching for the whiskey instead. Erik’s blood roared in his ears as he watched her long fingers grip the bottle, reaching for an empty mug to pour some in.
“I’m not going tae tell yer secret,” he said softly, trying again.
Her hands stilled. “I dinnae care if ye do.”
Oh, he knew she did care. “Tell me, Finley, wot is yer position here?”
She continued to pour before placing the bottle back on the sideboard. “I am a warrior,” she stated, anger clear in her voice. “I serve the laird, just as ye do.”
So, she had found out who he was. “Even if that laird is yer aunt?”
The mug hit the sideboard as she slammed it down, the liquid sloshing over the rim. “I serve a Lady first,” she said tightly. “It has nothing tae do with her being mah aunt.”
Before he could apologize for his jest, she was walking away, passing her aunt as she did so. “Wot has happened?” she asked as she reached Erik. “Was she horridly rude?”
Erik’s eyes watched as Finley retreated into the dark shadows of the hall. “Nay, I was.”
Edna sighed, picking up the mug of ale he had poured earlier for Finley. “Finley is a difficult one tae understand. She’s always felt as if she needed tae prove herself, and I swear she has taken that tae heart. She’s a fine warrior and a wonderful person.”
“Aye,” Erik said softly, detesting the fact that he had made her upset. He hadn’t meant to do so. He just wanted to understand who Finley was and what drove her to be a warrior first. “Was she in the battle?” he asked.
“Aye,” Edna replied, a touch of sadness in her voice. “Tis where she got her scar from. That battle, we lost a great number of our warriors, but mah Finley came home. I’m just not sure how much of herself she left on that battlefield that day.”
Erik could understand. He, too, had left a piece of himself on that same battlefield. They all had. Kaiden had nearly died in the first battle, and if it hadn’t been for Ferra’s timing, he too would have died for an entirely different reason. “I didnae mean tae offend her,” he finally said, turning his attention to Edna.
She sighed. “I dinnae think ye did. She’s fine, Erik. Are ye ready tae dine with me?”
He gave her a slight smile, but inside he was troubled about Finley and their interactions so far. He would have to find a way to apologize to her for not only their first encounter but every other one afterward.
Perhaps he had pushed her too fast, too hard, and it was not his intention.
He wanted to learn a bit more about the woman who had risen to a warrior status and clearly took her position seriously.
Bloody hell, she reminded him of himself, and Erik knew that he was just as stubborn.
Well, he wasn’t going to let that deter him from at least seeking her out.
It was the least he could do.
