“I dinnae ken,” Lisbeth grumbled as she stepped out of Finley’s grasp. “But she started asking why ye werenae back an hour ago.”
Because I was strung up in a tree,Finley thought.
Blowing out a breath, she straightened her shoulders. “Aye, I will go tae her then.”
“She’s in her study!” Lisbeth added before running off, likely to get herself in a bit of trouble.
Finley strode through the great hall and to the study that was off the side of the great hall, the smell of her aunt’s favorite herbs filling the air.
The new Lady sat behind a large oak table, littered with those infernal ledgers and missives that called for her attention. Finley leaned against the doorway as she watched her work, grateful that Aunt Edna had been willing to take on three young lasses all those years ago.
It had nothing to do with the fact that she was the Lady of the Keep. No, Finley was just grateful all the same that her siblings could grow up in such a life and have everything that there was to offer.
“Bloody hell,” her aunt muttered, scratching the quill pen across the papers. “They will be wanting the keep next.”
“Who will?” Finley asked.
Aunt Edna looked up, a wry smile on her face. “Nothing, dear. Come in.”
Finley walked into the study and seated herself in one of the worn chairs before the desk. She watched as her aunt finish her writing before placing the quill in its holder on the table. “So, where have ye been?”
Finley felt her cheeks redden. “I, um, I was checking on the hut, like I always do.”
Her aunt arched a brow.
“Truly? Did ye find something? Or maybe someone there that occupied yer time, Finley?”
The Scot’s face came into her thoughts, but Finley pushed it aside immediately. Her savior hadn’t been a savior at all, but an arrogant Scot that likely laughed behind her back the moment she had fled the clearing.
“Nay, I ran intae some trouble on the way back, ’tis all.”
The smile left her aunt’s face. “Wot sort of trouble?”
She was going to have to tell her. Finley cleared her throat, wiping her hands nervously on her breeks. “I got caught in one of the traps.”
The older woman stared at her for a moment before she burst into laughter. “Ye got caught? Well, I never thoughtthatwould happen tae ye, Finley! How long were ye there?”
“Longer than I wanted tae be,” she grumbled, glad she could entertain her aunt with her own folly.
Her aunt wiped her face, tears leaking from her eyes. “How did ye get loose?”
Finley cleared her throat. “A passerby freed me.”
“By the gods,” she chuckled, shaking her head. “I cannae believe that, Finley.”
Finley rubbed the back of her neck, a smile playing on her face. Now that she wasn’t strung up in the tree, it was quite laughable.
“I didnae call ye in here tae laugh at ye, Niece,” her aunt finally said, after her laughter died down. “We are tae have visitors.”
Finley arched a brow. “What sort of visitors?”
“The McIves.”
Finley groaned. The McIves had come when the former laird was in power. She remembered the grand carriage they had arrived in, the way that the clan had been forced to endure days of celebrations in their honor when they could barely feed themselves. She had never been so glad to have them depart for their own land.
“I know,” her aunt sighed. “But we need tae rebuild the bonds that were lost and strengthen them. This is the first of many that will come, Finley. We might as well be prepared.”
“Wot do ye need for me tae do?” she asked softly, knowing what her aunt was saying was correct. So many partnerships had been broken with their former laird, and if the McPherson clan was to survive into the next generation, then it was imperative that they invite clans into their borders.
