Angus poured them ale, then they sat at the table to drink it, and Isla listened with pleasure as the two men reminisced over old memories of the time when Finley had worked for him.
“Dae ye remember the time that young snooty lady came in here every day for a fortnight?” Angus asked, laughing heartily. “Her poor horse must have been awful clumsy!”
“Aye!” Finley chuckled, then turned to Isla, his eyes twinkling. “The poor thing must have cast at least a dozen shoes—an’ on different feet as well. It must have gone round the whole four legs at least three times. One day her father marched in here. He was absolutely furious! He came up tae me an’ accused me o’ no’ fittin’ the shoes properly. I told him I had been fittin’ shoes for three years an’ I had never had any complaints before.”
Angus took up the story, laughing. “He left in high dudgeon, an’ vowed never tae come back again. Said he would go tae the smith in Kinshiel. I wasnae sorry—couldnae wait tae see the back o’ him. Anyway, the young lass came in a couple o’ days later without her horse, an asked tae see Finley. You tell Isla the rest, Finley.”
Finley shook his head, his cheeks crimson. “Too embarrassin’,” he said, then hid his face by drinking a great gulp of his ale.
Isla was enchanted by his reticence and shyness. This was yet another side of Finley she had never seen before.
Angus grinned mischievously. “It turned out the sly wee miss had found a way o’ loosenin’ the shoes herself an’ only came in here tae see Finley!”
Isla threw her head back and laughed heartily. “So you were charming the ladies even then, Finley?”
“Aye, so everybody tells me.” Finley was once more hiding behind his hands.
“He was very good for business!” Angus remarked. “A’ the young ladies used tae bring their horses in just so they could see him!”
“Enough o’ this!” Finley was completely embarrassed, and once more Isla was struck by his complete lack of vanity.
She decided to change the subject. “Is it not time we had something to eat?” she suggested. Her tummy was feeling distinctly hollow, and presently a low growl emanated from it. “I am sure there is somewhere apart from the tavern that could provide us a good meal.”
Angus looked at her and said firmly: “Ye can eat here. I have a lovely leg o’ lamb that Maisie, my cook, is roastin’ for me.”
Finley looked at Isla, who nodded. “Thank ye, Angus,” he said warmly. “That would be lovely.”
“An’ since I want tae have a good long chat wi’ ye,” Angus went on, pouring more ale, “an’ it is rainin’ cats an’ dogs outside, ye must stay overnight. I have only one room, mind, but it has two beds in it, so ye should be quite comfortable.”
Finley opened his mouth to say something, but Angus held his hand up to stop him.
“I willnae take no for an answer,” he said firmly, with a warning glint in his eye. “I might be an old man, but I can still beat ye in a fair fight.”
“If there are two beds I am sure we will be fine,” Isla assured him. “We each packed a little bag just in case we had to spend the night in Inverleith.”
And so it was settled. They ate their succulent roast lamb, and the two men laughed over remembrances of the old days for a few hours. When the conversation threatened to veer into the vexed question of what Finley had been doing for the last few years, Finley told Angus that he had been travelling, whereupon Isla deftly changed the subject.
* * *
At last it was time to retire for the night, and Angus showed them to their bedroom. It was not cramped, but it was by no means huge, and since it had a sloping
roof, Finley was obliged to bend down a little to keep his head from hitting it.
Isla felt very awkward, since there was nowhere for her to change into her nightgown. However, Finley was as tactful and accommodating as always, and sat on his bed with his back turned while she changed.
She climbed into the bed nearer the door and said: “I’m closing my eyes, Finley.”
Finley shrugged and grinned at her. “I am no’ used tae bein’ modest, Isla.” He quickly stripped off his clothes and snuggled under the blankets, leaving only his chest and shoulders open to her gaze. “I am sorry, but I sleep naked. Just warnin’ ye. I have nae nightclothes.”
Isla swallowed nervously. The thought of a naked Finley lying not eight feet away from her was extremely arousing, and she squirmed as she tried to become comfortable on the bed. Her body was disobeying her, however, and she felt a warm wetness gather between her legs, and a pleasant fluttering sensation. What was happening to her?
To distract herself, she said: “I think of your mother often, you know. She was always very kind to me.”
Finley smiled. Now that he had finally come to terms with his loss, he was able to speak freely about the beloved mother whom he had loved and lost so early in his life. “She was kind tae everybody,” he observed. “She was always the first tae help the old women carry a bucket fae the well, or dry a bairn’s tears when they fell over an’ bumped themselves. Dae ye remember how they used tae gather around her in the square tae listen tae her stories?”
“Indeed I do,” she replied, laughing. “She once told a tale about a male owl who fell in love with a female eagle, except they could never get together because the owl only came out at night while the eagle only flew during the day.”
“How did it turn out?” Finley was intrigued.