Finley’s heart ached, and she fought the urge to rub her chest to ease it. “Erik isnae going tae hurt me.”
Leeth surprised her by snorting, his expression suddenly angered. “I caught him with Lady McIves in the alcove earlier, lass. It seems that the second-in-command might not be as good as we once thought him to be.”
Finley felt the blood drain from her face. Surely she hadn’t heard him correctly, especially since Erik had just been kissing her!
“Wot?”
He stepped closer, touching her elbow and steering her away from the crowd of people in the great hall. Finley barely felt her body moving, her mind racing at what she had just been told. Erik and Isabel had been together. He had told her that she had given him permission to tell Aunt Edna, but did they have to be together in the alcove?
Was that why he had denied her this evening?
Leeth led them into the empty study, standing guard at the doorway to deter anyone from coming in. “I dinnae know what they were talking aboot, but when she came out...” He ground his jaw. “Erik is going tae leave in two days. He’s a McGregor, not a McPherson. He isnae going tae stay around.”
“I know that,” she fired back, her cheeks flushing that he had picked up on what was building between her and Erik and the fact that Erik had all but proven to her, at least, that he hadn’t been truthful about Isabel. What had they been doing in the alcove?
Was it something she needed to be concerned with in regard to her feelings?
Not that it mattered much. He had turned her down this evening, and she wouldn’t be giving him another chance to do it again. It hurt far too much for her to put herself out there like that.
“There’s nothing between us.”
“See that it remains that way,” he said, his voice soft. “I’m not trying tae tell ye how tae live yer life, lass. I care aboot ye.”
Finley’s anger started to ebb away at his words. Leeth had never once said those sorts of words to her, but he had been more like a father to her than the one that had sired her. “Dinnae worry aboot me,” she said, her voice less harsh. “I know how tae take care of mahself.”
He inclined his head. “Aye, lass, I know that.”
Finley wanted to embrace him for his concern for her, but she knew the moment she did, the tears would come, and she couldn’t cry in his presence. It was hard to believe that they were even having that conversation, sharing in feelings that warriors tended to keep to themselves because it made them weak.
It was too much.
“If ye will excuse me, I want tae retire,” she said softly, swallowing the emotions in her throat.
“Good night, lass,” Leeth replied, a hint of sadness in his expression. He pitied her. Finley hated to be pitied, least of all by Leeth. He hadn’t done that since she was that young girl standing before him, challenging him to the fight that would change her life.
His pity made her feel weak, and he had always taught her not to be weak lest her enemy have a chance to destroy her.
These were, however, affairs of the heart, and Finley would rather face a room full of her enemies than to deal with these unfamiliar feelings she had whenever Erik was around. Leeth was right. She needed to remind herself that Erik was not looking to stay here, on this land, and in two days, he would be nothing more than a distant memory, a time when she had tried to have something more than just a warrior’s life.
What good it had done for her.
Finley could only nod before she quit the room, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She wanted to lock herself in her chamber and never see Erik again, but that couldn’t be possible.
Two days. She had two days in his presence, and then he would be gone.
Why did that make her so sad even with what she had learned?
But before she could get to her chamber, there was a great deal of commotion that filtered through the keep, and Finley followed the crowd that was starting to move outdoors into the night.
Her aunt’s warriors were gathered near her aunt as Finley approached, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“Wot’s wrong?” she asked hesitantly.
Aunt Edna turned her gaze on her niece, her expression mixed with anger and sorrow. “Finley, ye shouldn’t be here.”
“Why?”
Aunt Edna drew a breath, looking troubled. “There’s been a murder.”
