8
He was drunk. Finn could see it from the moment they entered the courtyard.
Jamie Buchanan met the coach jovially, arms open, with a grin wide enough to swallow a small horse. He also embraced the wrong woman.
Being only a maid, Trudy stepped down from the coach first so that she might be available to lend assistance the moment her lady set foot upon the ground. Not that Erica ever had time for such nonsense. Trudy tried, though, a fact that had endeared her to every man there. This also meant more than one of the guards started forward with a menacing look on their faces when the young laird grabbed Trudy and tried to kiss her.
“Welcome, me love! Where be the priest? ’Tis time to marry!”
Trudy scrambled free, eyes wide, nearly falling into the arms of Mattie and Tomas, who were nearest. Finn, upon seeing she was safe, turned his attention to Erica, who quite clearly was rather put out by the display.
“If I might…” Finn said suddenly, coming forward to take Erica’s hand and help her from the coach in as grand a manner as possible. “Master Jamie Buchanan, might I present to ye Lady Erica O’Donnell. Yer…betrothed.”
The last two words he just about choked on. From the look on Erica’s face, she was having the same difficulty in speaking, especially when it looked as though her betrothed was every bit as interested in greeting her in much the same way he had Trudy.
Finn rescued the situation by placing her hand firmly into the young man’s, which of course meant Erica curtsied. The embrace intended for her turned into a staggering bow, the young man’s eyebrow rising somewhat at the shift in the tenor of the situation.
Erica’s smile wobbled a bit as she rose from her curtsy, her head still bowed. “’Tis a pleasure to meet you, Laird Buchanan.”
“Please, my lady, call me Jamie,” the laird replied, and grinned rakishly. “Or James if ye prefer. There is no need to stand on ceremony when we are to be wed. And dinnae call me ‘Laird’ either. The auld laird is nae dead yet! I am still naught but a proxy.” He winked.
It was plain to see Erica went somewhat pale at this comment, an interesting reaction to be sure. Especially since she had come expressly to do just this. Perhaps like many young ladies, she was a bit reticent in discussing the matter so openly. At least Finn supposed this might be the case, not having had much to do with young ladies before this trip.
Still, it worried him, for Erica had been rather excited until this moment. And while the laird’s heir might not be at his best, it was late in the day, and the young man already being in his cups was not so unexpected. Finn knew from previous visits that Jamie rather liked his drink when he was celebrating. Clearly, meeting his new bride was a matter worth emptying a glass for.
At least he hoped so. Finn eyed the couple as they made small talk, trying to read them the way he might read a horse’s next move in the flickering of an ear or the swish of a tail.
Erica's stance, with her arisaid pulled around her, meant she was either cold or feeling the need to protect herself from the laird, who leaned in possessively as he talked to her. He liked to gesture with his hands and seemed to be describing the castle. But each gesture also seemed to bring him nearer to Erica herself, and his gestures ended with a hand upon her shoulder, then sliding down her arm to draw her in closer to him.
At this point, it was clear to see Erica was about to react much as that dratted mare of hers which kept trying to take a bite out of his stud. This was a woman who wasn’t taking well to being touched in such a familiar way by a stranger. The thinning of her lips and the arch to her eyebrow didn’t bode well. Nor did the stiffening of her spine.
“Perhaps the ladies would like to rest after their long journey. To freshen up,” he said suddenly, interrupting the laird’s heir in mid-sentence.
Erica gave him a sharp look. Trudy seemed relieved and darted forward to pull Erica from Jamie’s arm. “Aye,” the lass said with a keen glance at her mistress. “My lady, allow me to assist ye…”
“Aye…” Erica said softly, a trembling smile upon her lips. “If someone could show me the way to my chamber…and bring my things…”
“Tomas! Mattie!” Finn sent the two guards scrambling after the luggage. Seeing as they were the two who had stayed closest to the ladies, he felt he could trust them to see to their comfort.
On second thought, who better to see to the lady’s safety save himself? He had been charged to bring Erica safely to her husband. Seeing as how Jamie Buchanan was not her husband yet, could it not be argued that he needed to stay until at least the wedding? Just to be sure all was well?
At that moment, Finn reframed all his plans. His goal had been to bring the lady here and be shed of her from the moment he had passed her into the hands of the Buchanans. Now, as he supervised the removal of her trunk from the coach and the other belongings she had brought from her childhood home, he found himself volunteering to manage one of the chests personally. In fact, he led the way, following the lady, her maid, and her escort into the castle proper and to the wing where the lady’s chambers were to be found.
All the way there, he heard snippets of her conversation with Trudy.
“He is educated, is he not? I can hear it in his voice that he has had some learning. And I am sure I saw a library a moment ago. Surely a man who owns so many books is educated…”
So many books? The laird’s heir owned maybe a dozen volumes inherited from his grandfather, set upon the shelves in such a way as to make them appear more stately. Finn highly doubted Jamie had ever touched the things.
“He is attractive in his own way, would ye nae say so, Trudy? He has a good figure, if a little lacking in height compared to…other men. I can well imagine our bairns to be well-formed wee angels for the most part…as long as they don’ inherit their faither’s chin.”
Jamie Buchanan? Attractive in his own way? The more Finn thought about it, the more he saw Jamie, the less he thought of him as a man. Like all the Buchanans, Jamie was painfully thin, with weak arms and a thin face with a chin so pointy, he might have been mistaken for a fox. Maybe to a lady, Jamie Buchanan was fine to look upon if one enjoyed skinny lairds cut down to their own size. Perhaps it would make a romantic embrace less awkward.
Now he, on the other hand, felt like a giant next to any of the Buchanans. Finn frowned. For him to hold a woman such as Erica O’Donnell, he might well lose her in his arms. Though he suspected she would fit neatly under his chin if he tried it.
The thought was not unappealing. He rather liked the idea of tucking her in close to him where he could keep her safe. Just thinking about waking each morning to see those delightful brown eyes looking at him from across the bed, that angelic heart-shaped face smiling in that way she had of making a man believe she had a secret she wanted to share with him; with a lass like that to share the bed with, heaven on Earth was possible.
“He is also an acceptable bride’s groom, eh, Trudy?” Erica continued as they reached the door to her chambers.
