5
“Wot about him? Wot do ye think?”
Erik looked down at the name on the ledger that Edna was pointing toward, clucking his tongue. “He is opinionated, but people seemed tae listen tae him.”
She frowned before scratching a line through his name. “Nay, I didnae like him.”
Erik laughed. “Then why did ye ask?”
She gave him a dainty shrug, a smile playing on her lips. “Because I felt like I had tae. Who would have thought that picking mah council would take so bloody long?”
Her words caused him to grin. They sat in her study, the afternoon light filtering in the colored stain on the windows and a cozy fire crackling in the fireplace. The room had been cleared of the former laird’s things, and now there was a distinct woman’s touch to the room, though Erik found it comforting.
He and Kaiden had spent many a day in this room in the beginning, watching as the clan’s elders struggled to pick up the pieces of their loss. Kaiden hadn’t demanded anything from them, which had surprised them all, but instead offered to help them survive and choose their new laird.
It was a difficult thing at first, but once they realized that he was a man of his word, the elders gradually let down their walls and embraced the second chance for their clan.
Now the clan was profoundly moving forward, and Erik was certain that the woman before him would have no qualms doing what was right.
“’Tis a very important task,” he finally said, wiping his palms on his breeks. “Pick the wrong one, and they could revolt against ye.”
Edna arched a brow. “I have been in this clan all mah life, Erik. Anyone that has dared tae go against me is buried in mah former garden, nourishing the soil.”
Erik’s mouth dropped open, causing Edna to laugh. “Nay, I am just jesting. I am well aware of the chances of revolt. ’Tis uncommon tae have a lass as a leader tae being with. I’m surprised they havenae stormed the keep already.”
Now he saw where Finley got her attitude from. The warrior’s face popped into his thoughts, and he swallowed, remembering the way she had felt against him this morning. It hadn’t been planned, of course. She had proven herself in a few short sword swings that she knew what she was doing, and she could handle herself against any foe.
But she hadn’t seen his leg, and he had winced the moment she had gone down to the ground in a heap, not wanting to injure her, though Erik guessed it was only her pride that had been hurt.
He knew that look all too well himself. “I dinnae think ye will have tae worry aboot a revolt,” he finally said, noting that Edna was looking at him, waiting for his word.
She leaned back in her chair, tapping the quill against her cheek. “Tell me, Erik. Wot do ye like aboot this business?”
“Nothing,” he said honestly, his jaw clenched. “So, I wilnae make a good choice for yer council.”
Edna smiled at him. “I can tell. Ye are so much like mah niece, always thinking ahead tae that sparring circle. I swear I dinnae know how tae tell her that I want her tae be mah second-in-command.”
“Truly?” he asked.
She nodded. “Finley has worked hard for everything she has. She could have married a Scot, had a passel of bairns, and lived a blissful life in one of the huts in the village.
Instead, she went up against the laird’s most prized warrior and bested him at his own game tae become one herself. Ye will never meet a stronger lass or a more prideful one.”
“Wot about Leeth?” he asked. He had talked with the older warrior earlier, after Finley had departed from the circle, and found the Scot knowledgeable about what it took to raise good warriors.
The Lady shook her head, something akin to tenderness crossing her expression. “The fool won’t take it. I’ve offered it repeatedly tae him, but he says he’s done it already and ’tis time tae let someone else have the position. He is the one who recommended Finley.”
That had to be high praise, given some of the other warriors Erik had come in contact with this morning. A woman second-in-command. While the lairds were becoming more female, he couldn’t think of one that held that title.
“Why won’t she take it?” he asked, curious.
Edna sighed. “Because she thinks she doesnae deserve it. She thinks that no one takes her seriously since she is a lass, though she’s done more in her lifetime tae prove herself tae this clan.”
She wiped a hand down her face. “The day she came back from that battlefield with that injury, I told mahself I was going tae get her out.”
Erik thought about Finley’s facial scar and wondered which battle it had been. Had it been one of the McGregor warriors that marred her lovely face? He hoped not. It sickened him to think of it.
Though women on the battlefield were just as tough as the men were and susceptible to all sorts of injuries, he didn’t like killing the women themselves. Most were desperate to protect their clan, their families, and every time he sank his sword into one, he couldn’t help but think of the family that now would be without a mother or daughter.
