8
It hurt to look at him.
Finley tore her gaze away from the pleasantries that her aunt was bestowing on the visiting laird and stole a glance at Erik, her lips parting. He was pale, and she could see the tension in his shoulders as he stared at the laird, his fists clenched at his sides. She hadn’t anticipated seeing him so, well, rattled, and her curiosity spiked.
Had he had run-ins with the laird before? Surely he would have recognized the name by now. Her aunt had said it often enough since the laird had agreed to meet with her.
Finley drew in a breath as she watched Erik. Normally she balked at the chance to forgo her duties as a warrior, but this morning, when her aunt told her she needed for her to be at her side, Finley had breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t known what she would have said to Erik about last night, but her dreams had been filled with his kiss, his hand on her hip burning through her clothing and touching her bare skin.
That was what she had wanted him to do after all. To simply touch her.
But then he had found out that she was a maiden and all but told her that he was no longer interested, leaving her in tears in her own room. His rejection had hurt her far more than it should have. It hadn’t been until she had met Erik that Finley had ever wanted to experience what went on between a man and a woman or that she would even care about it.
The way her body had reacted, however, Finley knew she did want to at least experience it with Erik. With a single, searing kiss, he had turned her world upside down.
She didn’t know what to say to him or how to act around Erik any longer. One thing she did want to know, however, is how he knew McIves and if she needed to be concerned for her aunt and the clan.
“Finley.”
Finley dragged her eyes from Erik and to her aunt, who was beckoning her forward. “This is mah niece,” Aunt Edna said proudly as Finley took her place next to her aunt. “She’s a fine warrior.”
“Warrior?” McIves chuckled, his eyes alight with humor. “I’ve heard of women on the battlefield, but never one tae be considered as a warrior.”
Alright, she didn’t like the new Lady of the Keep. He looked at her as the rest had, believing that she couldn’t handle what it took to be a warrior. Finley opened her mouth to speak, but her aunt’s hand tightened on her arm.
“Aye, she is,” her aunt said, her voice laced with steel. “And I hope tae see more women following in her steps one day.”
McIves pursed his lips. “I meant no disrespect,” he said, nodding in her direction.
Finley lifted her chin higher. He had meant exactly that, but she wouldn’t call his bluff for now.
“And this is the McGregor second-in-command,” Aunt Edna continued as Erik moved to her side. “We are forever grateful for our alliance with the McGregor clan. They have allowed me tae take this position, and I value their friendship above all else.”
It was a glowing review of the clan that had defeated them, and Finley knew that her aunt was trying to let the other clans know that it would not bode well to pit the clans against each other.
“Ah, McGregor,” McIves stated, his eyes flickering over Erik. “I’ve heard nothing but good tales aboot the clan. “Perhaps we can work on our own alliance while I am here?”
“Aye,” Erik said tightly, in a voice that Finley had never heard from him. So McIves didn’t know him.
That only left the wife.
“McGregor,” Isabel purred, lifting her hand for him to kiss.
Finley watched as Erik stared at her for the longest time before taking it in his and brushing his lips over her knuckles, causing something low and ugly to erupt in Finley’s stomach. She had no claim on Erik, but just watching him kiss another woman’s hand made her want to rip the other woman’s hair out by the roots.
“Mah lady,” he said in a low voice, straightening.
She simpered at him, and Finley had to turn her eyes away, swallowing against the emotions. That was the sort of lass that Erik wanted, not a maiden with an ugly scar.
“Let’s get ye tae yer chambers!” her aunt called out, signaling that the ceremony was over for now. When Finley looked back to where Erik had been standing, he was already gone, adding to her ire. She wanted to know how he knew their visitors, no matter how badly it would hurt to talk to him again.
But her aunt had different plans for her, and for the next hour, Finley was forced to ensure that the entire lot of McIves were seen to, including their bags and their animals.
By the time she was finished, it was past noon, and her stomach was growling with hunger from the meal she had missed.
Finley didn’t make her way to the kitchens, however, but searched the keep for the errant warrior instead and found him on the roof of the keep, the winds ripping at her skirts as she climbed out of the trap door. He was standing facing the direction of his homeland, his legs apart to brace himself from the wind that whipped around him.
“Erik,” she said softly, finding her own footing.
