“Who?” Finley asked immediately, her breath catching. Leeth was there, so it wasn’t him, and her aunt was standing before her, uninjured.
There would only be one reason that they were keeping this from her. “Let me pass!” she yelled, pushing her aunt’s warriors, her friends, aside. No, it couldn’t be. She had to see it for herself, even if it were true.
But it wasn’t Erik that was lying on the ground, a sword in his chest. With the lighted torches, it was easy to see the McIves tartan draping the Scot’s chest, a warrior by the looks of it, and Finley was able to draw in a breath.
It isnae Erik!
When she looked up, however, she saw truly what her aunt was trying to hide from her. Erik stood there, his arms pulled behind his back and his tunic bloodied. There was a cut on his lip and blood staining his teeth, causing Finley to be concerned about his well-being. Had he been attacked?
“Wot is the meaning of this?” she asked hotly.
Her aunt cleared her throat, ignoring Finley’s question. “Take him tae mah study. Rouse the McIves. They will want tae be there.”
“Aye, mah laird,” the warrior said, pushing Erik forward, causing the warrior to stumble. Erik righted himself with a groan, and Finley stepped forward, her aunt putting her hand on her arm at the last moment to prevent her from reaching him.
“Erik,” she tried, the desperation in her voice apparent.
He averted his eyes from Finley’s gaze as he walked past, and Finley stared at his retreating back, feeling her life crashing down around her. How had this happened so quickly? She had just left him alone.
“That’s his sword,” her aunt said in her ear, soft enough so that only Finley could hear. “He was found standing over the body, Finley.”
Nay. This cannae be happening. Erik is a warrior, aye, but he had to have been provoked tae attack like this.
“He didnae do it,” she breathed, her heart hammering in her chest. “He couldnae.”
“We shall see,” her aunt said as she moved past Finley, her mouth pinched in a tight line. It was clear to Finley that her aunt was struggling with the knowledge as well. She had known Erik longer than Finley had, and unless Erik was provoked for some reason, it wasn’t like him to just murder a man like that.
The problem was that it was a McIves, and Finley couldn’t help but wonder if this had anything to do with his former love. Surely not. He had told her that he was going to help Isabel, but this couldn’t be the way he had planned.
She couldn’t be the reason he was being led away like a common criminal.
Finley wasted no time following the group into the keep, listening to the murmurs around them. She couldn’t believe that he would do something like this.
Erik was no murderer.
