Finn was stunned. He had never felt so much or felt so close to anyone as when he was inside her. He felt as if he was on the brink of having something wondrous, something beyond anything he knew or even hoped for—only to be pushed over a cliff and smashed on the rocks below.
One moment they were one in scalding passion, and the next she was weeping. The change happened so quickly that his heart still pounded from the explosion of his release, even while a sense of utter desolation settled over him like a dead weight.
When he tried to touch her, she scooted farther away.
“Maggie,” he said, “what did I do?”
“It wasn’t anything ye did,” she said in a voice he could barely hear.
If it was not what he did, then it could only be who he was.
Or rather, who he wasn’t. After losing herself to the throes of passion, she remembered he was not a nobleman with lands and castle to give her. He was only a landless warrior who must earn his keep by his skill with a sword. She was not his wife Maggie, and never could be.
He should have known better. He did know better. And yet he had fallen headlong in love with Lady Margaret Douglas.
The long-forgotten memory of the day his father sent him away to live with his uncle came to him. He was given no explanation. But even then, at eight years old, he did not need one. He knew they just did not want him. No one in his family even came out to bid him goodbye.
CHAPTER 19
It was a good day for hunting. And an even better day to be away from the castle.
Finn’s back hurt like hell from sleeping on Una’s floor. After Margaret made it clear she never wanted him to touch her again, he could not share a bed with her—not without losing his pride and begging. Fortunately, Una was not really a gossip, but he had to put up with the old woman giving him an earful about resolving his problems with hiswife. As if he could.
Finn slung his bow over his shoulder and motioned for Alex to follow him up the hillside. They had tied their horses half a mile back to stalk a stag.
“He came right through here.” Finn squatted on the ground and pushed the heather back to reveal the stag’s tracks more clearly.
“Ach, looks like he’s a big one,” Alex said, squatting beside him. “Maybe even big enough to have antlers worthy of hanging at Helmsdale.”
Finn knew how badly Alex wanted a prize set of antlers to display on the walls of the hunting lodge with those from the most impressive stags his father and grandfather had killed.
“Aye, but this fellow did not live this long without being cagey,” Finn cautioned him. “But perhaps we’ll have luck on our side today.”
They were downwind from the stag, and it was blowing hard, so they had a good chance of getting close enough before the stag smelled or heard them.
Finn heard a movement behind them and tapped Alex’s forearm to warn him. Though it was probably an animal moving through the gorse, the wind that worked in their favor as stalkers would also favor anyone stalking them from behind.
He strained to hear over the harsh wind whistling across the hillside. There it was again, a faint rustle.
In one motion, he stood, drew his sword, and whirled toward the sound. A figure emerged from behind a boulder. When he recognized the man was Seamus, the son of Duffus of Sutherland, Finn relaxed—until Seamus started toward them with his sword drawn and murder in his eyes.
“What is the matter with ye, Seamus?” he shouted. “’Tis me, Finn.”
“’Tis not you I’m after, but him,” Seamus said, pointing his sword at Alex. “Step aside, Finn.”
“I can’t do that,” Finn said. “Alex is my cousin.”
Seamus was a big bear of a man and a seasoned warrior, but he was a scholar by nature. Finn wondered what had gotten him so riled up.
“The Gordons owe me a blood debt,” Seamus said. “Ye ought to help me collect it instead of standing in my way.”
“Tell me what’s happened,” Finn said, making sure he was between Seamus and Alex. “Whatever it is, Alex is an innocent.”
“My father’s dead,” Seamus said. “Murdered!”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Your father was a good man,” Finn said, and he meant it. “But murdered? Are ye certain?”
“A blade in the back is no accident,” Seamus said.
