Page 4 of Promised to the Ruthless Laird (Highland Whispers of Love #2)

CHAPTER FOUR

T he faint light of dawn crept through the thin curtains, casting a soft, pale glow across the room as Edin slowly stirred from her slumber. The fire on the hearth now flickered feebly, as if reluctant to burn any longer. Edin stretched, her body stiff from the uncomfortable bed, and glanced around the small room. Finley was already awake, his back to her as he stood at the window, his sharp green eyes scanning the empty street below.

He must’ve sensed her movement, for he turned with a swift, almost predatory grace. His gaze met hers, steady and calculating. Edin noticed that the flicker of amusement and irritation that had danced in his eyes the night before was gone now, replaced with a look of quiet determination..

“Ye ready, then?” she asked, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife. She wanted to sound brisk, decisive, but even she couldn’t hide the faint edge of reluctance that tugged at her words.

“Aye, I am,” Finley replied, his voice low and steady. “But I’d rather ken what we’re about tae dae, Edin.”

Edin didn’t answer immediately, only grabbed her coat from the back of the chair and wrapped it around her shoulders with a swift motion. She fastened the buttons, tugging them tight to ward off the lingering cold. “Ye’ll find out soon enough,” she said. “Now, let’s get movin’. There’s nay time tae waste.”

They made their way down the narrow stairs to the inn’s common room, where the smell of cooked meat and warm bread lingered in the air, teasing their senses. The room was quiet at this early hour, save for the faint crackling of the fire and the soft murmur of the innkeeper and the help preparing for the day. Finley’s sharp eyes swept over the room before he turned to Edin with a raised eyebrow.

“So, nay breakfast, then?” he asked. “Ye’ve got nay time fer a warm meal?”

Edin turned to face him with a cool glance. “I’m sorry, Finley,” she said dryly, her words sharp. “Would ye like tae attend a ball while we’re at it? Perhaps some tea and biscuits as well?”

Finley chuckled at her tone, but didn’t press the matter. Edin reached out, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the door with surprising strength.

“Come on,” she muttered, her voice low. “We’ve got places tae be.”

They stepped outside into the crisp morning air, the fog still thick in the distance, though the light was slowly creeping through. Finley scanned the horizon with a quick glance. He took in the silence for a moment before his eyes turned back to Edin.

“Dae ye have a horse?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

Edin stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, surprised.

How clueless can he be ?

“We willnae need horses where we’re goin’,” she said, her voice firm. “If ye have one, ye’d best make arrangements tae leave it somewhere safe fer the time bein’.”

Finley blinked at her, confusion flashing across his features. He took a step back, narrowing his eyes. “What dae ye mean? How are we goin’ tae move without horses?”

How had the Triad allowed him tae join her on this mission?

“Ye’ve nae done a good job of stayin’ quiet on yer journey tae Kilmaroy,” Edin pointed out. “It’s already obvious ye’re on the move.”

Finley’s face twisted with a mixture of disbelief and concern. “What are ye sayin’, Edin? What’s that got tae dae with anything?”

“I’ve made… other arrangements.” Edin replied, stepping directly in front of him, blocking his view of the street. She let her words sink in.

Finley’s brows shot up, his mouth opening in surprise. “What other arrangements?” he asked, his voice edging into disbelief.

Edin didn’t immediately answer, instead glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one was nearby to overhear. She lowered her voice to a near whisper. “We’ll need tae take a detour,” she explained, her tone quiet but firm. “As much as I’d like tae head straight tae the Highlands, ye’ve already made it far too obvious that ye’re on the move. If anyone’s been followin’ ye, rest assured, they’ll certainly catch up with us once we’re on horseback.”

Finley’s expression darkened. “So, what are ye suggestin’, then? We just leave the horses behind?”

Edin glanced at him, her eyes steady. “Aye. Fer now, we leave them behind.” She glanced down the road once more, her mind turning over the details of the plan. “I’ve made sure our route is more… discreet. If we’re too loud, too easy tae track, we’ll never make it tae the Highlands without bein’ followed.”

Finley was silent for a long moment, his jaw clenching as he weighed her words. “And where, exactly, are we goin’, then?” he asked, the edge of frustration still present in his voice. “I’m nae keen on wanderin’ around aimlessly. We’ve nay time tae waste.”

A sly grin tugged at the corners of Edin’s lips, though she kept her expression careful, not giving away too much. “A small ship, Finley,” she said, her words wary as they hung in the air between them. “We’ll take it up the water. Far less noticeable than horses, aye. And anyone who sees us boardin’ will think we’re just headin’ tae Skye.”

Finley frowned, brows knitting together. “Ye truly think someone’s followin’ us?”

“Aye, I dae think it is a possibility. It’s better tae be cautious than gamble.”

Finley shook his head, disbelief clear in his tone. “I would ken if someone’s been followin’ me. I’ve paid attention.”

Edin stifled a chuckle, the irony not lost on her. “Aye, I’m sure,” she replied, keeping her tone even. “But I’m nae takin’ that risk.”

A long silence stretched between them as Finley mulled over her words, the stubborn set of his jaw softening just a fraction. Then he grunted, conceding with reluctance. “If ye say so.”

Edin gave a subtle nod, satisfied, and they continued their walk in silence. She noted the shift in his attitude — far better than the night before, it seemed. The floor had done him some good. Sometimes a little discomfort was all it took to make a man rethink his stubborn ways.

When they reached the docks, the sight that greeted them was less than encouraging — a ship that looked as though it might sink at any moment, creaking under its own weight and bobbing listlessly in the water. Finley stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide in disbelief.

“This is what we’re usin’?” he asked, incredulity thick in his voice.

“Aye,” Edin replied, her tone unbothered. “It’s about discretion, Finley.”

Finley snorted but didn’t protest, following her onto the creaky plank that led to the ship. He adjusted his satchel, glancing around as they stepped aboard. The scent of saltwater and damp wood filled the air, and there was a soft sound of the water slapping against the sides of the vessel. The movement of the ship offered a strange sense of calm, the rocking rhythm a comfort of sorts. As they made their way further onto the deck, a few of the sailing crew approached.

“Welcome aboard,” a tall man with a gruff voice said, tipping his weathered cap. “Name’s Callum, first mate here.”

Finley grinned widely, his tone warm. “Pleasure tae meet ye, Callum. I’m Finley. Anything I can help with, just say the word.”

A shorter, stockier man with a thick beard grinned and gave a nod. “Brodie, the cook. Dinnae expect much, but it’ll fill ye up.”

“Sounds like just what I need!” Finley responded with a hearty laugh. “A full stomach makes everything better, eh?”

Another crew member, a young woman with a quick smile, added, “Lina, the quartermaster. If ye need anything, ye can find me at the supplies.”

“I’ll be sure tae keep that in mind, Lina,” Finley said, giving her a friendly wink. “I’m sure I’ll be needing something before too long.”

Edin offered a nod in return, her mind still preoccupied with having someone like Finley at her side for this journey, though she couldn’t help but notice his easy manner with the crew.

The cabin they were brought to was small — almost too small for two grown adults — but Edin didn’t mind. She moved to one corner, arms folded tightly, settling into the space with a sense of quiet purpose. Finley, on the other hand, paced for a moment, clearly disgruntled by their mode of transport.

“There was truly nay better way tae get us there?” he asked, skepticism dripping from his voice.

Edin glanced up from beneath lowered lashes, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “Aye. This ship, it’s right fer what we need.”

She let the silence linger, giving him time to consider her words. After a long moment, she sighed, her voice lowering to something more serious. “As I mentioned yesterday, we’re headin’ tae one o’ the Triad’s secret knowledge centers. It’s an honor tae be granted access tae one o’ them.”

Finley blinked, taken aback by her revelation. “So, what happens once we get there?” he asked after a beat, curiosity creeping into his voice.

Edin exhaled slowly, her gaze shifting to the water as it rippled outside the small porthole. “Once we reach the center, we’ll learn what we need tae ken. Then we’ll make our next move. But fer now, we keep quiet, lie low, and let the waters dae their job. We’ll blend in like shadows.”

“So, Edin? What have ye bargained with the crew? Where are we bound, exactly?”

Edin shifted her gaze from the horizon to him, her eyes narrowing’ slightly in the dim light as she weighed how best to explain it. She leaned back against the wall o’ the cabin, arms crossed over her chest. The ship wasn’t large, but it was enough to keep them out of sight, and that was all that mattered.

“We’re headin’ up the coast,” she replied, her tone firm but nae unkind. “A couple o’ days out at sea, far from any prying’ eyes. After that, we’ll take a dory and come ashore somewhere quiet. Far away from any towns. I’ll nae risk folk seein’ us pass through, especially nae in the Highlands, where every soul kens everybody else’s business.”

Finley blinked at her, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Aye, I get ye. Word spreads like wildfire in these parts. Ye’ve thought it through, that’s clear enough.”

Edin gave him a brief, tight-lipped smile, relieved he understood. “Aye, it’s nae just about gettin’ from one place tae the next. It’s about disappearin’ fer a time, so nay one gets the chance tae follow or gossip. Once we’re out o’ sight, we’re ghosts.”

The wind stirred the air outside the cabin, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Edin could tell Finley was still troubled, though he tried to mask it with his usual stoic demeanor. She could feel the tension radiating off him.

It was she who broke the silence, her voice soft but direct. “Tell me, Finley, what ye ken about yer sister’s abduction.”

The question hung heavy in the air, and for a long moment, Finley didn’t respond. He stared out across the dark sea, his jaw tight. She could see the muscles in his neck straining as he clenched his teeth. Then, at last, he spoke, his voice low and rough.

“It was... it was from our own home,” he said, his voice distant, haunted by the memory. “They took her straight from the castle. In the dead o’ night. Naebody saw a thing, nae until it was far too late. Some o’ the staff, they were in on it, we found out later. But nay one would breathe a word about who was behind it. Who was leadin’ them.”

Edin watched him closely, hearing the pain in his voice. She’d known the ache of loss herself, but this was different.

“So, ye’ve nay clue who it was, then?” she asked, her tone gentle, though she knew the answer already.

Finley shook his head, frustration hardening’ his tone. “Nay. Nae a clue. We chased them, tried tae get answers, but the trail went cold. All we ken is they turned south, and ‘afore long, we lost them. We have nay idea where they took her.”

Edin’s mind raced, piecing together the fragments. “And dae ye have any suspicions? Any clans ye’ve had trouble wi’? Any old foes?”

Finley furrowed his brow, his voice tinged with thought. “Aye, there’s a few. The Mackays, fer one. They came tae us nae long afore it happened, askin’ fer aid. We turned them down because we couldnae help at the time, and nae badly — but with the Mackays, ye never ken. There’s other clans we’ve tangled wi’ over the years. Could’ve been any one of them, but nay a soul’s speakin’.”

Edin gave a slow nod, her mind turning over his words. The Mackays were known for nursing grudges like a wound left untended, but the truth could lie anywhere in politics.

“And after ye lost the trail — what then?” she pressed gently, her eyes searching his face.

Finley’s gaze grew distant, his jaw tightening as the horror of the memory pressed down. “Fer weeks, I looked fer her, fer them. I couldnae just sit back doin’ nothin’. Every day, I searched. Followed whispers, shadows, anythin’ I could find. But after a time, I had to face the fact that she was gone. Vanished like mist at dawn.”

Edin exhaled, her chest heaving slightly at the pain in his tone. She watched the way his shoulders slumped, carrying a weight that looked too heavy for any man.

“It’s nae yer fault, Finley,” she said softly, her voice firm but kind. “Ye cannae blame yerself fer what happened. There’s nay way ye could’ve stopped it. None of this is on ye.”

His head snapped toward her, anger and anguish blazing’ in his green eyes. “She’s me wee sister, Edin! I should’ve been able tae protect her. I should’ve kept her safe. I failed her! And now — how will I call meself laird when me time comes? How can I protect me people when I couldnae even protect her? What sort of leader daes that make me?”

Edin felt for him, but she held his gaze, steady. “Finley, listen tae me,” she said, her voice low but fierce. “Ye didnae fail her. Ye did everythin’ ye could. But there are things in this life,” she paused, her lips tightening, “things even a future laird cannae control. Blamin’ yerself’ll nae bring her back, and it willnae change what’s been done.”

Finley looked away, his gaze returning to the dark, churning waters outside the cabin. The tension in his frame didn’t ease, but his silence spoke louder than any words. After a long beat, he muttered, his voice raw, “I’ll nae forgive meself fer the time she’s lost. And I cannae lead — nae the way I should — until I ken I’ve done all I can tae make sure she’s fine and naethin’ like this ever happens again.”

The ship swayed beneath them, the sea murmuring like a ghost’s lament. Edin stayed quiet, letting the moment settle. She knew he still needed time to grapple with his demons, but now this was a fight he wouldn’t face alone.

The two of them sat in the dim light, the shadows stretching long as the ship drifted farther from the shore. Whatever lay ahead, Edin vowed silently to see it through with him.