He turned, and she caught the barest hint of bleakness in his eyes before it was gone, and his jaw was clenched. “Why are ye here, Finley?”
“I was looking for ye,” she stated, feeling nervous about seeking him out.
He arched a brow. “Why?”
Why indeed? She wanted to ask him about his knowledge of McIves, but she also wanted to talk about the previous night and why he had pushed her away. Her heart ached at the sight of him, but she also wanted to just touch him as well. “Wot do ye know aboot McIves?”
Surprise crossed his face. “Wot do ye mean?”
She took a step forward. “Ye recognized his wife.”
Erik’s face grew hard, and she saw the man that had been as still as a statue in the great hall. “’Tis none of yer concern, Finley.”
He bit out her name, and Finley flinched. “It is when it comes tae letting someone that cannae be trusted in mah clan.”
He snorted, but unease slid down Finley’s spine regardless. “Tell me I dinnae need tae be concerned.”
“I cannae.”
Finley pushed her hair out of her face, wishing she had braided it this morning instead of letting it loose. Foolishly she had done it with Erik in mind, including wearing the dress that normally she detested. His response had been overshadowed by the laird’s arrival, and now Finley felt foolish.
“This is mah home,” she told him softly. “I want tae know.”
Some of the fight left Erik, and he sighed, wiping a hand over his face. “Wot I know aboot McIves has nothing tae do with yer clan, Finley. Just leave it be.”
“I cannae,” she told him instead, taking another step closer until they were mere inches away from each other. “Tell me wot I need tae know, Erik.”
His eyes searched hers. “Please, Finley,” he said, his words soft. “Just let it be.”
“Why did ye deny me last night?” she blurted out, feeling her cheeks heat. “I thought—”
“Ye are a maiden,” he interrupted, his jaw clenching. “I dinnae dabble with maidens.”
His words were like daggers to her heart, and she swallowed the emotion in her throat. “Well then, I dinnae care how this bothers ye then,” she shot back, hiding her hurt.
He opened his mouth to respond but then clamped it shut. “Aye, ye shouldnae.”
Finley had never experienced hurt like this before. She had only known him a few days, but after hearing his story last night and experiencing his kisses, she wanted more from the hardened warrior.
It seemed he didn’t want the same from her. “Good day then,” she said stiffly, picking up the door to exit the roof. There was nothing more to say to him. He clearly didn’t want to tell her anything, and this was only affecting her.
She wasn’t about to put herself through this any longer.
He didn’t try to stop her as she entered the narrow stairs that led to the third landing, her heart heavy. She needed to push this infatuation with Erik aside. There were far more important things going on now, and Erik’s reaction to the visiting laird was at the top of her list to find out. If McIves was a threat, she would have to find out herself.
That night, Finley sat at the table and listened to the conversation between the two lairds, finding herself seated next to Erik. He hadn’t even acknowledged her when he had seated himself, though the lady McIves had made it a point to greet him properly.
Now Finley was acutely aware of him next to her, the way that his scent wafted past on occasion.
“Tell me,” the lady was saying, her fingers tapping against her mug, “how does the McGregor clan fare?”
Finley swallowed the bread that was suddenly stuck in her throat as she waited to hear Erik’s response. “Flourishing,” he responded, settling back in his chair. “Far better than previous years.”
The woman nodded. “Aye, I can tell.”
Finley clutched her hands in her lap at the tone of the woman’s voice, reminding herself about her declaration on the roof. She shouldn’t let it bother her, how this woman was talking to Erik, but it did.
Her chest hurt. “Have ye been tae their land?” she asked innocently.
