Page 18 of Promised to the Ruthless Laird (Highland Whispers of Love #2)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

T he morning light filtered through the small window, casting a soft golden hue across the room. The warmth of Finley’s body pressed against Edin’s was a quiet comfort, one she had never known she craved. His arms were wrapped around her, holding her close as if, even in sleep, he was unwilling to let her go.

For a long moment, she simply lay there, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek. It was rare, this kind of peace — so rare she almost felt guilty for indulging in it.

But as she stirred slightly, pressing closer to him, a deep inhale rumbled through Finley’s chest before he shifted, his arms tightening around her for a fleeting second before his eyes fluttered open.

Sleep still lingered in his gaze, but a slow, lazy smile tugged at his lips as he looked down at her.

“Mornin’, lass.”

Edin tilted her head up to meet his gaze, smiling back at him. “Mornin’.”

His fingers traced slow, idle circles against the bare skin of her back, sending shivers down her spine.

She sighed, content, and lifted her head just enough to press her lips against his. It was soft, unhurried, and it spoke of lingering warmth and a reluctance to let the world intrude just yet.

He hummed against her lips, deepening it slightly, his hand sliding up to tangle in her hair.

Edin could have stayed there forever. But she didn’t.

Pulling back, she let out a quiet breath and rested her forehead against his. “Finley,” she murmured. “What are we goin’ tae dae now?”

His eyes opened fully at that, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before he kissed her forehead. “All the pieces will fall together soon. The plan is moving forward as it should.”

She wanted to melt into him again, to lose herself in the warmth of his words, but she couldn’t ignore the flicker of unease curling in her chest.

“What d’ye mean by that?” she pressed, pulling back just enough to search his face.

He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I gave Margaret a letter tae send tae me parents.”

Edin blinked. The words took a moment to settle in her mind.

Then, suddenly, the warmth that had wrapped around her like a cocoon was gone, replaced by a sharp jolt of awareness that sent her heart pounding. A chill ran over her bare skin as she sat upright, the sheets pooling at her waist, forgotten.

Confusion tangled with unease, knotting deep in her stomach as she turned to face him fully, searching his expression for some sign that she had misheard. But the look in his eyes told her otherwise.

Her pulse quickened.

“Ye did what?”

Finley stretched, unbothered by her reaction, his expression calm. “I sent word tae them. Our army is likely already heading tae our meeting point as we speak. It should be there by the time we get there.”

She pushed herself further away, sitting up straighter. “And when exactly were ye plannin’ on tellin’ me this?”

His brow arched slightly, but there was amusement flickering in his eyes, as if he had expected this reaction. “Now, apparently.”

“Finley.” Her voice was edged with frustration, the softness they had shared just moments ago gone. “Ye took a reckless step, acted before we even kent exactly where yer sister was! What if she isnae there? What if this only brings more trouble than we can handle?”

He exhaled, sitting up as well, his gaze locking onto hers. “Some choices must be made swiftly, lass. This is bigger than just us sneakin’ intae a castle. It couldnae wait.”

Her lips parted, words balancing on the tip of her tongue, but before she could speak, he reached out and grasped her thigh. He caressed her skin, and then, without warning, he pressed a lingering kiss just above her knee.

She forced herself to ignore the warmth pooling low in her stomach. “Dinnae think ye can distract me wi’ that,” she muttered, though her voice lacked its full bite.

His head lifted, a slow, knowing smile curving his lips. “I wouldnae dare, lass.”

And yet, the way his fingers squeezed her thigh told her he knew exactly what he was doing.

Edin’s body tensed, and the fleeting intimacy of the moment shattered, slipping between her fingers before she could grasp onto it.

Without thinking, she shoved him away. It wasn’t forceful, but enough to put distance between them, enough to remind herself of the lines she should never have crossed.

He smirked in response, that infuriating glint of amusement dancing in his eyes as if her anger was nothing more than a game to him. But then, just as quickly, his expression shifted. The teasing faded, replaced by something serious.

“I have tae return tae Lennox Castle soon,” he said, his voice quieter now, as if the reality had settled heavily upon him.

The mention of his life beyond this mission sent a cold ripple through her, reminding her that whatever had blossomed between them existed in a world that was never meant to last.

She frowned, watching the way his gaze drifted for a moment, as if seeing something beyond the walls of the room, something that pulled at him in ways she had never seen before.

“Why?” she asked, though she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.

Finley inhaled deeply, running a hand over his face before meeting her gaze again. “Me faither… he’s ill. Has been fer a while now.”

The words took a moment to settle, building a heavy wall in the small space between them on the bed.

His face had taken on an unfamiliar look, something almost… sad. It wasn’t a feeling she associated with Finley Lennox. He was a man of action, of quick decisions and confident steps. Seeing him hesitant, vulnerable, sent a sharp ache through her chest.

“He willnae make it,” he added, voice gruff, as if forcing the words out made them more real. “It’s why we need tae find Davina. She has tae return tae her rightful place before he dies.”

The mission had always been clear: find Finley’s sister, secure her place, ensure the future of their clan. But the end of it had always felt distant, something lingering just beyond reach. Now, it loomed before her, real and unavoidable.

The Triad had trained her to complete a mission and move on. No attachments, no lingering, no second thoughts.

But this was different.

Because for the first time, she had built a connection and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for it to end.

Her throat tightened as she searched his face, seeing the responsibility painted all over it. She had always known what he was — Finley Lennox, heir to a powerful clan, a man bound by duty as much as she was. But hearing it aloud, seeing the reality reflected in his eyes, made it impossible to ignore.

“If yer faither dies,” she said slowly, almost unwilling to voice it, “ye’ll be laird.”

Finley nodded, the muscle in his jaw ticking slightly. “Aye.”

The finality of it sent a sharp pain slicing through her.

It was over before it had even begun.

She had always known there was no future for them — not truly. But there had been moments, fleeting and stolen, where she had let herself believe otherwise. Where she had allowed herself to imagine what it would be like if things were different.

But they weren’t different. The realization curled inside her, hollowing her out from within.

She could already feel the walls rebuilding around her, the ones she had foolishly let crumble in Finley’s presence. The Triad was her only future. She had never belonged anywhere else.

She swallowed hard and looked away, focusing on the dim morning light stretching across the wooden floor.

When she finally gathered the courage to glance back at him, she knew he had reached the same conclusion. The silence between them spoke volumes, more than any words ever could.

“Time tae go,” Finley said finally, his voice quieter, but firm.

Edin nodded stiffly, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, reaching for her clothes with hands that felt strangely detached from the rest of her.

They dressed in silence, the unspoken acknowledgment between them deafening.

As they stepped outside, the crisp morning air hit her skin like a blade. The ride toward the meeting spot stretched before them, and the closer they got to where the rest of the army would be waiting, the more she saw Finley change.

The man who had held her in his arms that morning, who had whispered against her skin, was gone.

His shoulders squared, his face set into a stony mask, his warmth fading with each mile they rode. He became colder, his posture rigid, his gaze sharper. He became the leader of Clan Lennox.

For the first time since she had met him, Edin realized she might never see the other version of him again.

The ride was long, biting at Edin’s skin as they made their way through the woods. She could feel the tension coiling in her gut, tighter and tighter with each passing moment, and it only deepened when they finally arrived at the clearing.

The sight that greeted her nearly took her breath away.

More than a hundred men were camped in the middle of the forest, their tents sprawling across the clearing like a small city of warriors.

The air hummed with the sound of steel meeting stone — swords being sharpened, axes tested for balance, and men calling out orders to one another. There was an intensity to the camp, that only a gathering of this many warriors could bring. It made her pulse quicken, reminding her of the sheer scale of what Finley had done without her consent.

A knot of unease twisted in her stomach, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she straightened her back, her determination settling in.

Finley slowed his horse, and Edin followed suit. They both dismounted with practiced ease.

She gave her horse a brief pat, her fingers brushing the warm, glossy coat as she moved away.

She glanced at Finley, but his gaze was fixed ahead, steely and distant.

A figure stepped forward from the mass of soldiers. Tall, broad-shouldered, with the unmistakable presence of someone used to commanding. The man was dressed in dark leather and a cloak that billowed out behind him as he approached. His face was scarred, the kind of weathered look that spoke of years spent in the thick of battle.

“Master Lennox,” the man greeted Finley, his voice deep and firm, filled with authority. “The men are ready. Everything’s in place.”

“Aye, thank ye, General MacLeod,” Finley replied, his voice just as commanding. “Is everything prepared as planned?”

MacLeod nodded, his eyes scanning the camp. “Aye, all is ready. We’ll be on the move at first light.” He then turned his attention to Edin, his gaze assessing her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable. “Ye must be the lass who’s been helping Master Lennox,” he said, a hint of curiosity in his tone.

Edin nodded stiffly, meeting his gaze with a practiced coolness. “Aye, that’s me.”

MacLeod gave her a small smile, the kind that barely reached his eyes. “Well, lass, ye must be tired. Would ye like tae rest in one o’ the tents?”

Edin’s breath caught in her throat. Rest? The nerve of him!

She stared at him, wide-eyed, her mind racing to understand what he was suggesting. The soldiers around her were preparing for battle, sharpening weapons, setting up camp, and MacLeod thought she needed to rest? She was a trained warrior, she had been on missions far worse than this one, and not once had anyone dared suggest she rest.

She glanced at Finley, expecting him to share in her disbelief. But instead, his expression remained impassive, distant.

A strange coldness crept over her, gnawing at the edges of her thoughts. Was this how it was going to be? They’d shared something intimate, something real, but now it felt as though she were nothing more than an afterthought to him. A distraction. An accessory to the mission.

Before she could form a reply, to her relief, Finley spoke up, his voice steady and firm. “It’s fine, MacLeod. She has a special mission with me. There’s nay need fer her tae rest.”

MacLeod bowed his head respectfully. “I’ll see tae the troops, Sir,” he said, before turning and striding off without another word.

Edin watched him go, her heart pounding in her chest. She was still seething, her emotions a tangled mess of frustration and confusion. How dare he treat her like this? As if she were some ornament to be tucked away out of the way while the real men handled things? But then he had mentioned their mission…

Edin’s blood boiled. She couldn’t help it. The words burned her throat as she snapped, “What is it yer army thinks I’m here fer, Finley? I’m nae some bairn they can send off tae a tent tae rest while ye men carry on wi’ the real work. I’ve been hired fer this mission. I’m nae some delicate lass who needs a place tae sleep when there’s work tae be done.”

Finley didn’t flinch. Instead, his eyes flickered with amusement.

“Aye, so I said. They ken ye’ve been hired fer this, lass.” he said softly, his voice dripping with a kind of arrogance she hadn’t heard from him before.

“What was that then, Finley?” she demanded, her voice sharp as a dagger. “How dare they dismiss me like that? I’ve been with ye this whole time, fighting beside ye, making decisions alongside ye.”

Finley’s smirk faded, and for the briefest of moments, his eyes softened. But it was fleeting, gone almost before she could register it. “I’m nae taking ye off the mission, Edin. MacLeod was only trying tae help” he said, his voice low and steady. “I just need ye tae come with me. I’m hopin’ tae meet with Mackay, the Laird o’ Inverness. I’m nae here tae wage a war if I can help it. If I can convince him tae release Davina without bloodshed, then I will.”

She took a deep breath, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Aye,” she said, the words coming out with more force than she had intended. “Of course I’ll ride wi’ ye. But dinnae think fer a second that I’ll just stand by. I’m here, and I’ll see it through, whether ye like it or nae.”

Finley studied her for a long moment, his gaze piercing, unreadable. Then he nodded, just once. “Good. Let’s go then.”