Page 34 of Taming the Highland Misfits

“These are the ones I was able tae pocket myself before Alec got his hands on them,” he told her. “I cannae sell these in Inverleith, but if I go tae Aberdeen they should get a fair price, then I can use the money tae build a school for the bairns in the town. I have always wanted tae learn and have the bairns learn properly too, Isla.”

“I know,” she replied. “I think we must resume your reading lessons, Finley.”

“Aye.” He grinned. “Wi’ a’ that’s been goin’ on I forgot, Isla, but I promise when a’ this is over we will start again.”

“I will hold you to that,” Isla declared, grinning as she gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. Then she became serious. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and looked out over the fields towards the town. “Ready to go?” she asked.

For answer, Finley picked her up by the waist and swung her onto Raffy’s back. Isla was so startled that she gave a little scream, and Finley grinned. He mounted his own horse, a great grey stallion called Duff, and they began to ride together towards Inverleith.

It was only an hour’s ride, but Finley had had to do it every day before he became a bandit, and while he was living with his aunt.

“This could not have been an easy ride every day,” Isla remarked. “Especially in bad weather.”

“No, it wasnae,” he replied. “Sometimes I was so wet when I got tae work that it took hours tae get dry, even wi’ the heat o’ the forge.”

“Did you like being a blacksmith?” she asked curiously.

He shrugged. “It was a livin’,” he replied. His voice was disinterested. “I could eat an’ put clothes on my back, an’ wi’ my wages an’ what Auntie Bettie made fae her herbs an’ potions we got by a’ right till we had tae pay for Da’s funeral. After that, when she died, there was another funeral tae pay for, an’ that is when the bandits got me.”

Isla sighed. “I wish I had been there to help you,” she said sadly. “But my father kept me away from the town at that time—in fact he practically kept me prisoner—and a lot happened at that time that I never knew about. I had no idea about your mother’s death until you told me, and I have not been into the centre of Inverleith since I came back. My father was not keen on me mixing with the ‘peasants’, as he called the townspeople.” Her voice was bitter. “I do not know how I survived under his roof for so long.” Suddenly, she looked up into the blue sky, almost bare of clouds, and her demeanour changed. “It is such a beautiful day, Finley,” she observed, then she looked thoughtful. “Are you sure we’re in Scotland?”

Finley entered into the spirit of the jest. “Well, Isla, I have never been anywhere else, so it must be Scotland.”

“But what is that blue sky doing here?” Isla demanded, as if she was angry. “Is it not supposed to live in France or Spain or Italy or somewhere warm? I think we should chase it away.”

“Dinnae you dare!” Finley burst out, then began to laugh. “I like the blue sky.”

“That’s because it is the same colour as your eyes,” Isla observed.

Finley’s smile faded. “I suppose you’re right, Isla,” he agreed. “They are the same colour as Ma’s were, but she always said mine were brighter. I remember her lookin’ into my eyes as I went tae sleep an’ singin’ me a song.”

“You never say much about your father,” Isla remarked.

Finley shrugged. “There isnae much tae say,” he answered. “Jimmy McGill was a drunk. I dinnae know why a good woman like my mother ever married him, because she was worth ten o’ him. But she always said she would marry him over again if she knew she would have me.” He smiled at Isla. “Race ye tae the big boulder?”

Isla grinned, then she gave a great whoop and urged Raffy into a gallop. She could see that Duff was a big strong stallion, but Raffy had a surprising turn of speed for a mare, and she easily passed the other horse and gained the boulder ten yards ahead of her competitor.

Finley was amazed. “How did ye dae that?” he asked, shaking his head. “I dinnae find many horses that can beat Duff.”

Isla smiled and patted her horse’s sleek neck. “Raffy has always been able to outrun any other horse I know,” she replied smugly, winking mischievously at Finley. “I have no idea why. Maybe it’s like you and your carving, Finley; a natural talent.”

“You just wait!” Finley replied, laughing. “I will get ye back for that—you see if I dinnae!”

“Really?” Isla pretended to look scared. “I will be very careful to make sure you’re always in front of me.” Accordingly, she let him precede her down the road for a while before catching him up again. They carried on their light-hearted banter until they saw the first few houses on the edge of the town.

Abruptly, Finley reined Duff in and stopped.

“Finley?” Isla asked, her face creased in a worried frown. “What’s wrong?”

He gave her a rueful grin. “I am just preparin’ myself,” he replied. “In case I see any o’ my ‘pals’ again. I am no’ scared, but I dinnae want tae be involved in fights either.”

“I have a feeling you have absolutely nothing to worry about,” Isla remarked. “They will do nothing in broad daylight. I hope none of my father’s friends are there, though. I don’t want them telling tales to him, although I’m no longer afraid of him.” She smiled and reached over to take his hand. “Let us both pretend to be brave, and in a wee while we will have convinced ourselves.” She lifted his hand and kissed it. The action had been almost unconscious, but when she looked up, it was to see him smiling warmly at her.

“Come on then,” he said encouragingly. “The sooner we dae this the sooner it will be over with.”

* * *

Despite Finley’s encouragement, Isla was still trembling as she rode Raffy into the edges of Inverleith, a part of the town she had never been allowed to frequent because it was full of ‘peasants’, according to her father. She was surprised to see that a new tavern called the Black Hog had been built and was already even busier than the Lonely Shepherd.