Isabel’s eyes flashed with ire at Finley coming into their conversation. “Aye,” she said, her eyes on Erik. “Long ago, of course.”
Erik pushed away from the table and stood. “If ye will excuse me.”
Finley watched as he walked away, surprised at the sudden turn of events. Erik had never looked so rattled since the moment she had met him, but it was something about this woman that kept him ill at ease.
“Well then,” Isabel said, her lips pursed as her eyes followed Erik’s retreating form, “I guess I must have said something tae offend him.”
That was the issue. Erik wasn’t one to be easily offended, and Finley knew there was more to this story, more to the way that Erik was reacting.
She just had to find out what it was.
The dinner continued on without Erik, and by the time Finley said her goodnights, she wanted nothing more than to seek out the warrior. She hurried to her room and changed out of the infernal dress she had worn, dressing in her warrior training garb, grabbing her sword in the process. She had a good notion of where he might be, and if he weren’t, then she would spend the time catching up on her training herself.
Taking her mind off him.
But when Finley arrived at the warrior circle, she found it eerily empty. Disappointment crashed through her body. Even after everything he had said to her, she wanted to see him, and it bothered Finley greatly.
So, she started her maneuvers instead by the light of the moon, not caring that she was there by herself. She would give him time. He would not put her aunt in danger. Finley knew that. Erik cared for her aunt, but did he not care for Finley at all?
He certainly wasn’t acting like he did, and it stung. She wanted him to see her as more than just a maiden, more than just a warrior.
Finley wanted him to see her as a woman he could, well, care for.
