“And this poison killed Boyce?” Trepidation greater than any he’d known that day curdled in his gut. “Will they die as well?”
“Nay! Nay, Finn.” She caught his hand between hers. “Mr. Boyce labored over those stones on a daily basis for hours at a time while their exposure was limited. And I’ve got medicine for them to take just in case. They’ll be fine.”
“This medicine dinnae save Boyce,” fear compelled him to point out.
“It was too late for him.” Tears glistened in the sunlight before one fell to her freckled cheek. “All I could do was assure that he was in nae more pain. He was a good man, Finn. He dinnae deserve this.”
With a grunt, Finn glanced back at the stone. Worn by the weather and virtually covered with moss, it appeared harmless. It was easier to believe it was cursed than to imagine a plot to poison a mere miller. “The Blàr an Buie stone.”
“I have nae idea what it means.”
“It make nae sense. Blàr is battle or battlefield. Buie is an old clan name meaning yellow or fair-haired. Bowie is more common these days.” He scratched his jaw but could think of no connection. “Why Boyce?”
“That’s far simpler.” She shrugged. “Someone wanted the necklace.”
“The one he gave ye?”
She nodded. “There was a key inside of it. Mr. Boyce told me before he died that it would unlock the truth. I can only surmise that someone was either trying to bury that truth forever or torture him into giving it to them.” With a shrug, she peered up at him from beneath her lashes. “He also said, truth prevails.”
“It has something to do with ye?”
“It could be a coincidence.”
“I dinnae believe in coincidences.” Finn’s brows rose as if something occurred to him in that moment and he turned back to the stone with astonishment. “Nay, I dinnae believe in them at all.”
“What is it?”
“The name Bowie can also be derived from the auld Gaelic Buidheach.” He scratched his jaw with a disbelieving shake of his head. “From which other clan names have also been rendered. Bogue and…”
“Let me guess. Boyce?”
“Aye.”
The battle for Boyce? With him? Aila took a deep breath, wondering what the future held to result in the name. “Either someone is trying to make believers of us, or everything that’s been going on has been predestined. I’m no’ certain I like that explanation any better. I like to think I have a choice in certain matters.”
“I as well.”
Her lips twisted. “Either way. I was sent back to yer time to solve the mystery behind that necklace. The truth, whatever it may be. And I intend to do exactly that. For Mr. Boyce and for Niall and Effie. And I ken where to start. I think, anyway.”
Thirst for vengeance, deeper and more profound than any he’d harbored for Etteridge all this time, suffused Finn. “When I find out who harmed my children, there will be nae mercy for them.”
“This time, ye’ll get nae argument from me. Ye’re welcome to kill whoever it was with my blessing.” Her words were flat with conviction. “I have my suspicions who might have done it, but I need proof.”
“Do ye believe the answer is here?” He cleared this throat and clarified. “In this…time?”
“Nay, we need to return to yers. This way.”
They made their way to the far corners of the lush garden. Behind a full juniper, Aila drew from her pocket the thing she’d shown him before. It looked like a flattened egg and as harmless.
Until it glowed under her touch and dread clawed at his chest once more.
“Close yer eyes,” she suggested. “It may go better for ye.”
Finn took one last look at the castle he’d helped to build and the gardens around it. It was a sight to behold, one he wouldn’t mind seeing again with a clearer mind and lighter heart. He closed his eyes to the sight. White illuminated even the darkness behind his eyelids.
Then….
“Gah!” Aila cried in surprise as cold rain and wind buffeted them. “Shite, that’s cold!”
Like a startled rabbit, she sprang away from him and sprinted toward the castle. The old castle with its squared towers and defensive grey stone walls. Turning to his left, Finn studied the foundations he and his men had been laying for the past year. They’d only just begun on the walls. No hint of turrets or the false drawbridge the duke wanted to mark the castle entrance.
Which would come to rest on the castle’s backside at some point. A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Good to know his opinion about such foolish suggestions had been proven correct in the end. Even if he hadn’t been right about removing the village….
Bollocks, the village. He would have liked to see that.
“Finn, come on!”
* * *
Inveraray, Scotland
Late September 1748
Despite his soaked clothing, Finn went directly to the nursery and kissed his children. Even with everything he’d had thrown at him that day, he embraced what mattered most. If she hadn’t already loved him, that would have done it for her.
Aila only wished she knew if she were part of what counted.
Finn knew everything now. Once he’d had time to process all of it and once they were able to put the mystery of the millstone behind them, there would be time to unearth that final secret. What might be the greatest treasure of them all. She smiled at the thought. Tris had been right. If everything worked out, perhaps she wouldn’t wring Donell’s neck after all.
“This message came for ye while ye were gone, m’lord.” Jean pulled a folded square of paper stamped with a red wax seal from her apron pocket and handed it to him. To Aila, she cast a curious side eye that Aila well deserved, considering her wet, and improperly modern, clothing. Kindly, she also offered a blanket for Aila to warm herself.
While Finn opened the letter, she wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and greeted Niall and Effie enthusiastically, smothering them teasingly with her wet hair when they asked why she was wet. Their giggles erupted. She’d missed the wee troublemakers as well over the past two weeks. Their hugs and kisses warmed her heart. More of them could be hers if things went her way. An instant family unlike any she’d ever known.
Everything hinged on Finn.
Petting Rab who’d crawled into her lap and chucked his head under her chin, she watched from the corner of her eye as he opened the letter, his frown deepening each second. Poor man, he really didn’t need another surprise today. Although, she was impressed by how well he bore the reality of time travel. Tucking the note into his pocket, he patted his other pockets before realizing he wasn’t wearing his waistcoat and looked at the clock on the mantel. “Thank ye, Jean. Has Mr. MacKintosh been around?”
“He was here earlier looking for ye, though no’ recently.”
“Hmm.” He glanced at the clock again. “Would ye be so kind as to see to the children for the remainder of the evening? I have some unexpected business to attend to.”
“Of course, m’lord.”
When he bid Niall and Effie goodnight, Aila took the opportunity to do the same. Finn gestured to the door and followed her out.
“So, what’s it to be? A stiff drink first?” she asked him, bending to stroke Rab’s head when he joined them.
“I’ve been summoned by the duke,” he told her. “He asks that I put in an appearance with the drawings of the new castle to entertain his guests since the rain prevented them from touring the site this afternoon. Should I modify them to add the additional story, do ye think?”
“I think we have better things to do than cater to the duke.” Aila cocked her head and studied him. There was something in his expression…not humor or irritation. Not even worry. Nay, it almost looked like anticipation. Giving Rab one last scratch, she straightened. “What? What are ye thinking?”
“I thought I might do as Argyll requested.” His hands fisted, a muscle twitching in his cheek. Long strides carried him down the ha
llway. “Beard the lion in his den, so to speak.”
She chased him with Rab on her heels as they descended the stairs. Finn waited for her at the bottom. “My apologies. I’m rather distracted.”
“Justified and forgiven,” she assured him. “It’s been a day.”
With a nod, he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm as they strolled toward their rooms.
“A day I would have thought ye’d have had enough of by now,” she added. “Are ye certain ye want to go down there?”
“I need to face what I saw there this afternoon.” His jaw worked, then hardened. “I need to face a great many things. Odd thing to ken that the world one has dwelled in and accepted for so long can be proven false in the blink of an eye.”
“I’m here for ye, Finn,” she assured. “In any way ye need me to be.”
A faint smile hovered on his lips. “I wouldnae make that offer too freely, lass. There is a part of me wanting to forget all my woes in the arms of a bonny lass. Ye have a way of taking me to a place where there is nae thought, only feeling. Where I lose myself completely. I have a mind to take ye there.”
As poignant desire began to pool in her belly about halfway through his speech, Aila wouldn’t argue if he wanted to do exactly that. It would be far more pleasurable than the rest of the day had been thus far. She tossed him a saucy grin. “I have a mind to let ye.”
He caught her behind the nape and kissed her hard, almost desperately. She melted against his hard body not caring that he was as wet and cold as she. The shiver that stole down the length of her body had nothing to do with the chill. In seconds, she was positively steamy.
“Finn,” she sighed and threw back her head as his hot mouth skimmed down her neck. “I’ve missed ye so much. It’s been horrible without ye.”
A huff of humor brushed her neck before he lifted his head to smile down at her. “All that? The hours since I fell asleep with ye in my arms have seemed an eternity. I woke alone and lonely, I’ll admit. Even so, ’twas a matter of a mere four or five hours from morning until I found ye in the passage. Hardly enough time to be missed.”
“For me, it was two weeks.”
Her confession had an effect quite the opposite of the one she expected. He stared down at her, his expression unreadable. “How?”
She couldn’t meet his eyes. “I went back to my time for a bit.”
“A bit? Two weeks seems rather long for a bit.” His brow deepened into a scowl as he worked it out. The disguise, her attempts to evade him. The whole shebang. He hadn’t been wrong earlier, he was clever. “Ye left me?”
Chapter 32
“Finn, I…” What could she say?
Turning on his heel, he opened the door to his bedchamber. Aila was afraid he would slam it in her face. To her surprise, he left it ajar and she took it as an invitation to follow. Rab sat near the fireplace, gaze swiveling from her to Finn and back again as if he were curious how this would play out. Aila was curious too. Sitting on the edge of his bed, she experienced a sense of déjà vu. Except Finn wasn’t stripping off his clothes for her and he wasn’t arming himself for an attack as he’d been not long ago
Without a word, he shed his wet clothing and briskly dried himself with a towel without deigning to look at her. When he did finally speak, she practically jumped off the bed. “Somewhere amid yer frantic sluffing of that heinous costume earlier —” he pointed at the pile still on the floor “— I thought ye promised me the truth in all things. Was it something I said? Or did? I ken I’ve been an arse.”
“Oh, Finn, nay.” Remorse tightened her chest. “Ye did nothing wrong. In fact, I’d go so far as to say ye’ve done everything rather right.”
“Obviously no’ everything.”
Throwing the towel aside, he strode to his chest of drawers. His broad back bulging with muscle tapering down to narrow hips. Firm arse and thick thighs. She should have been drooling. All Aila could see, however, was him walking away from her. Who would blame him? She’d even admit that she’d pushed him along. Maybe so far, she’d never get him back. She’d been such a numpty.
He yanked on a pair of black breeches and bent to pull on a pair of white stockings before rather ruthlessly shoving his feet into leather shoes with shining silver buckles. Straightening, his lips tight and expression shuttered, Aila wallowed in her many regrets. Already she had hurt him when it was the last thing she’d ever wanted.
“Ye did startle me that night. Last night,” she clarified for his point of view. “It was nothing ye said or did wrong. It was me and my problems that I ran from. No’ ye.”
With a gruff scoff of disbelief, Finn pulled a crisp white linen shirt over his head and stood in front of a small mirror to tie his cravat in an intricate knot.
“More to the point, I ran away from what ye made me feel.” The confession was hard to deliver. Brontë had been right about everything.
His gaze shifted to her in the mirror. “And what was that?”
Loved. “To be honest, I was a little freaked out by the intensity of it.”
“Freaked out?” He chose a striped silk waistcoat and shrugged it on.
He was halfway through the buttons before Aila summoned the courage to go on. His inscrutability wasn’t precisely encouraging. “Taken aback?”
Aware that his gaze lingered on her while he pulled on a velvet jacket of bottle green that somehow altered his eyes to match, she took a deep breath and added, “Connected, close. The depth of feeling ye inspire in me is a little…” Terrifying. “… daunting.”
That made him pause. Finn came back to the bed and crouched down to eye level. “Do ye think ye’re the only one unsettled by our loveplay? Ye fill me with more passion than I’ve ever kent.”
God, she hoped it was more than that. She was tempted to ask if she still had a chance with him. If he could forgive her for withholding vital information. For leaving him without a word. No doubt if she were to press at this moment, the answer would not please her. Finn was burdened with so much already, it would be unfair for her to add another layer of pressure.
“I dinnae ken what else to say.” Aila blinked back the tears swimming in her eyes. “I never should have left and I regret every minute I spent away.” From ye.
“I guess there are some things one can escape from.” A mournful smile tugged at his lips. “Would I had that power. Today of all days. I cannae even react rationally to the smallest provocation right now. As ye said, it has been a long day.”
“I wouldnae exactly call any of this small. I’m sorry to have made it worse for ye.”
Finn could have the power to escape, if she offered it to him. Aila refrained. Chances were, it would be the worst play she could make right now. Resurrect her many mistakes? Provide him a means to escape her?
“I have been an arse, nae doubt. This day more than most.” And he even tried to take the blame? Aila couldn’t think of what she’d done to be blessed with him. “I’m afraid I have no’ yet had the opportunity to fully come to terms with everything ye’ve told me.”
“Take all the time ye need.”
His brows rose. “Truly? The lass I ken would demand I mull over my feelings on the matter straightaway. Aloud and for the world to hear.”
Aila shook her head. “I’ve recently come to the conclusion that bold and ballsy is merely a façade. Underneath, I’m a quivering mass of insecurities.”
“Ballsy?” Humor played on his lips. “No’ difficult to work that one out.” He glanced at the clock and his amusement faded away. “I need to be on my way. ’Tis already well past the time I was expected. We can argue the merits of yer character another time.”
His warm lips brushed her forehead before he eased away and gathered up the plans for the castle and rolled them into a tight tube. Turning back to her, he straightened his jacket. “How do I look?”
Beyond handsome. Lordly.
Determined.
He was armed, only not in the way she imagined. Aila wondered what he
was planning to say or do when he came face to face with his wife. She wondered about a great many things. She’d settle for the simple assurance of his arms around her.
“Ye look dressed to kill,” she told him. “But please dinnae do anything too rash.”
Brushing back his short hair with both hands, he gave a curt nod. Desperate impulse drove her to her feet and Aila caught his arm before he could leave.
“Whatever happens….” She swallowed hard. It would give him more power than she’d already surrendered. To wield her emotions. To break her heart. Leaping out of an airplane without a parachute couldn’t have been more terrifying. It had to be said, nonetheless. If nothing else came of her time here, she would know she’d given her heart to a wonderful man. Freely and without expectation. For the first time in her life.
“Ye’re trembling, mo chridhe.” He gathered her into his arms. Burying her face against his chest, she savored the strength of him, tried to memorize the sound of his heartbeat. He murmured against the top of her head. “What has ye so shaken?”
“Ye do.” Summoning every iota of her courage, she tipped her head back and looked him in the eye. “Ye fill me with more than passion, Finn. I dinnae ken what’s to come, but I… I… want ye to ken that I love ye.”
His eyes flared. She didn’t wait to see whether it was fire or fear. Bouncing up on her toes, she flung her arms around his shoulders and kissed him with every ounce of love and nerves bottled up inside of her.
Rather than pull her closer, he eased her away. “Lass, I —”
“Nay, no’ now. Go.” She gave him a little shove. “I’ll be waiting for ye when ye’re done. If ye decide…never mind. Go, please. Do what ye have to do.”
A Good Scot is Hard to Find (Something About a Highlander Book 2) Page 28
