15
Finley sat in the chair before her aunt, her entire body shaking. “He didnae do it,” she said.
Her aunt sighed. “I know, but it doesnae look good, lass. His bloody sword was buried in that warrior. I dinnae know wot I can do for him...”
Her voice trailed off, and Finley swallowed, clutching her trembling hands together. She had come perilously close to tears more than once, and now she felt the prick of tears in the back of her eyes at the thought of not being able to save Erik. There wasn’t a bone in her body that believed he had murdered that warrior.
But they couldn’t prove it. Her heart hurt at the thought.
“How long will ye give him?” she asked instead.
“A day or so,” her aunt replied. “I cannae give him much more than that.”
“I want tae prove that he didnae do it,” Finley decided, lifting her chin. “I will prove it.”
Her aunt chuckled. “I’m not surprised. Ye care for him, dinnae ye?”
Finley swallowed and looked away. “Aye,” she answered. “I do.”
“And I believe he cares for ye.”
It was Finley’s turn to snort. “Nay.” Though he had confessed to her aunt that he no longer cared for Isabel, it didn’t mean he cared for Finley instead. He had turned her down more than once, pushed her away at every turn. His body might have wanted her, but there was something that held Erik back from having more with her, and Finley could almost guarantee it was because of Isabel and his past.
Could Erik ever trust anyone again? Could he ever give his heart to another?
“I believe he does,” Aunt Edna answered. “I believe that he has forgotten what it means tae care for someone after what happened with Isabel, but that doesnae mean he cannae.”
Finley rubbed a hand over her face wearily. “I dinnae know wot tae do, Aunt.”
“Most dinnae,” her aunt replied, a hint of understanding in her voice. “But ye are not one tae give up, Finley. Fight for wot ye want.”
Finley pushed herself out of the chair. “Ye will allow me to find a way tae prove his innocence?”
“Aye. Just dinnae cross McIves or his wife. I dinnae trust them.”
Renewed with her aunt’s words, Finley quit the study and made her way to Erik’s chamber, passing Leeth along the way. His hands were laden with daggers and weapons, and Finley smiled at the sight.
“Fool lad,” Leeth muttered as he passed. “He could start his own bloody war with this.”
Finley didn’t respond, her smile dying as she thought about the sudden turn of events. It hadn’t been too long ago that she had thought she had lost Erik to Isabel. He had denied the fact that he was in love with her, but was that the truth?
Plus, it didn’t explain why he had turned Finley down either. She could see if he were still in love with his former love, but was it because he was leaving in two days?
Or was he like what her aunt had hinted at, and he was afraid to love another after what Isabel had done to him?
Finley didn’t know. It was the first time in her young life that she didn’t know what to do or what she needed to do to help Erik. She couldn’t let him be killed. He was innocent.
There were two warriors outside his chamber as she approached. “Finley,” one of them said, giving her a nod. “I cannae let ye in, lass.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. “Aye, ye will let me in on the order of the laird.”
He exchanged a look with the other warrior, who then just shrugged. “He’s not armed. She can very well handle herself around anyone.”
The other warrior shook his head, his gaze back on Finley. “I will be needing yer dagger then.”
Finley gave herself a critical eye, her dress far different than what they were used to seeing her in. “Wot makes ye think I am armed?”
The warrior laughed. “Because, lass, ye are one of us. Ye wouldnae go anywhere without something tae protect yerself.”
