Chapter Eighteen
Finlay’s knuckles weresore, and he fully expected them to be swollen and bruised in the morn as they waited for the carriage to come around. He cared naught. The pain was worth it to beat that worthless excuse of a man to a pulp. He would have continued, too, if it weren’t for Willamina stopping him.
The louse deserved so much more.
Willamina had his handkerchief and was gently dabbing at the cuts. “We need water to clean these. There is an inn not too far from here that we can room for the night. I can clean them there.”
“Come here,” he took control of his hands and opened his arms for her to walk into them. “Dinna fash about me. How do ye fare?”
She did as he wanted and he wrapped his arms around her as her arms snaked around his waist, and laid her cheek against his chest. He rested his chin on the top of her head while he waited for her to answer.
Her deep inhale told him more than her words ever could. The universe had opened to her this night and turned her world upside down. Things she had thought were set were not.
Her arsehole of a husband had risen from the dead. He had even hinted about her parents’ deaths. Finlay didn’t think he really had anything to do with them, but he would request aninvestigation into the matter and the circumstances surrounding their carriage accident.
“I dinna ken how I am feeling right now. There are so many things running through my head. It still doesna make sense to me. I just dinna ken what he would gain from such a ruse?”
“I, too, am uncertain.” The sod clearly did not want to be married to Willamina. He had never treated her with any respect. Not once from the day they were married. So, this whole scheme seemed absolutely unnecessary.
Their carriage pulled up and he helped her inside before climbing in and sitting beside her.
“You tell me where and we will go.”
He relayed her directions to their coachman and the carriage jolted forward, the wheels rambling along the cobblestone road.
Her face was solemn as she looked through the window at the houses they passed. Were they the homes of her former friends? Quite possibly so, he assumed. He wondered what was going through her mind—other than the obvious.
They rode in silence. Tension rolled off her in waves, filling the cabin of the carriage. That, he could understand. If he had just been confronted with such news, he would probably be feeling the same way. He couldn’t fault her.
Instead, he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close. If anything, he wanted to show her that he was here. He wasn’t going anywhere. It didn’t matter what her former husband—he refused to call the bastard her husband—said or did. It wouldn’t change the way he felt about her. Willamina might still not see it, but he still held out hope that she would eventually.
There was a spark there. He knew she felt that much. She solidified it when she initiated that scorching kiss in the hallway before confronting Gerard.
The passion she put forth in that kiss, that was real. One couldn’t fake that reaction.
The carriage slowed before pulling to a stop in front of a three-story brick mansion, with white trim. “This the place ye mentioned?”
She lifted her head and nodded.
They entered through the door, also painted white, their coachman behind them, their overnight bags in his hands.
After securing a room for the night, Finlay requested food, tea, and wine be brought to their room, and gave the innkeeper two extra shillings for his efforts. The man nodded, a huge smile suddenly plastered on his face.
They made their way to the third floor and unlocked the door to their room. He looked around. ’Twas nice enough and would suit them for the night. A fireplace encased in brick to match the outside of the house was centered in the wall to their right. Beside it, a crate held a pile of logs and a steel poker leaned against the wall. Two chairs adorned with red cushions along with a small table between them were set in front. Two large windows with red drapes took up most of the space of one wall with a small dresser between them. A good sized bed with a plush red duvet that matched the drapes and cushions was on the other wall. Two small tables on either side. Perfectly suitable.
In the morn, they would figure out how they would move forward.
He was perfectly fine with returning to Edinburgh. He had enough estates and coin to ensure Willamina was well cared for. He didn’t need Warton House. He understood that she wanted it. It was her sense of security. But he could offer her the same, without all the heartache that would come with trying to reclaim her home.
With Gerard alive, it would be a fight that she would more than likely lose. Though if she did want to fight for it, he would support her wholeheartedly.
“’Tis been a long day. I already requested sustenance, but I feel a bath is in order after the day we have had? What do ye think?”
She stood in the center of the room, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. A habit of hers that he found far too enticing. “A bath would be nice, indeed.”
“I will leave so ye may bathe in peace.”
She bounced from one foot to the other. “Ye needna do so,” she said quietly, looking at him through lowered lashes.
