Page 121 of The Lady Needs a Rogue
She cocked her chin in defiance. “Indeed.”
As her brother walked away, Macie relaxed a bit. She didn’t want to argue with Jon, nor offer vague excuses for the hints of scandal he’d evidently heard.
Her thoughts were on Finn. And Finn alone.
He had been so very brave. So very protective. From her position near the top of the stairs, she’d been on tenterhooks as she watched Finn disarm Aylesworth, only to discover the cur carried a well-concealed blade. Even after Aylesworth had plunged the knife into Finn, he’d given no ground. He had fought through the pain, yet he’d restrained himself at the moment when he could have ended the professor’s life in a rush of anger. He’d ensured Aylesworth would face justice for his heartless crimes.
Logan had summoned a physician while Mrs. Johnstone remained with Macie and Finn. Now, behind the closed bedchamber door, the physician dealt with a cantankerous patient who wanted the blade out with no fuss. Despite the physician’s initial reassurances, Macie knew she could not quiet the worry in her heart until she saw with her own eyes that Finn had suffered no lasting harm.
How she wanted to see him. And then, perhaps—if the moment was right—she would kiss him. She would bare her heart.
She would tell him the truth—she loved him. Quite desperately, in fact. But would he welcome that truth?
Only time would tell.
Gazing from the window to the street below, Macie spotted Logan’s single-seat carriage arriving at the house. His assistant, Tim, hopped down from the driver’s bench and hurried up the front steps.
Mrs. Johnstone had anticipated his arrival and had gone down to greet him. After they joined Macie in the corridor, Timremoved his cap, uttered a polite greeting, then knocked on the door to Finn’s chamber, a small garment bag in hand.
“It’s about time.” Finn’s voice was strong, a bit surly, and the most delightful sound she’d heard in days.
Mrs. Johnstone motioned her to join her on a settee in the hall. The velvet bench sat beneath a portrait of Macie’s grandfather and grandmother when they were young and so very much in love.
“Yer grandmother was beautiful,” Mrs. Johnstone said. “Ye look very much like her.”
“I’ve always been told I most resemble my mum.” She smiled. “I never realized how much she had in common with her mother.”
“She’s a spirited woman, isn’t she?”
Macie considered the question. “Yes, she certainly is.” She looked at Mrs. Johnstone. “How did you know?”
“Because her daughter is one of the most spirited women I’ve had the pleasure to meet.”
“Your words mean a great deal to me,” Macie said as warmth washed over her.
“I’ve been wanting to say this for a while now, but I did not wish to meddle. Ye and Finn must make your own choices.” A smile played on her mouth. “But I cannot help but feel he’s met his match.”
The words had scarcely left her lips when the heavy door creaked open and Finn limped into the hallway.
He wore the clothing Tim had brought in the bag, a plain white linen shirt that hung untucked and dark brown trousers. His hair looked like he’d run his fingers through it in lieu of a proper comb, and a cut on his cheek looked as if it had been cleaned and stitched.
Macie heart raced. Good heavens, the image of him—on his feet, bold and vigorous, a look of true spirit in his eyes—was a sight she’d remember to her last breath.
“Thank ye for yer assistance, Mrs. Johnstone.” His voice was surprisingly strong. Finn’s gaze fell on Macie. “If I may have a private moment... a moment of Macie’s time.”
“Indeed,” Mrs. Johnstone agreed with a smile. “I was just on my way downstairs.”
Macie met Finn’s eyes. “Tell me this, lass... tell me the cur did not hurt ye.”
“I am well.” She reached up to touch his cheek. “And you?”
“I’ll live. Ye can count on that.” A hint of a smile curved his mouth. “Macie, there’s something—”
Heavy footsteps on the stairs cut into his words. Jon marched toward them, even as Mrs. Johnstone called after him to allow Macie and Finn this moment of peace.
Her brother eyed Finn with blend of anger and confusion. “Macie claimed a megrim would get the better of her if she told me the truth. But now we know you won’t be heading to meet your maker anytime soon, so I’ll ask you the same question. What in blazes happened here?”
Finn cocked his head. “I’m sensing ye have a bone to pick with me.”
