Page 37 of Taming the Highland Misfits
“A fairy came along and turned the owl into an eagle,” she replied. “They made a nest, had lots of eaglets and they all lived happily ever after.”
“I never heard that one, but she had plenty more like it.” Finley laughed fondly at the tale. “She couldnae read or write, but her head was stuffed wi’ stories, an’ she could remember every one o’ them.”
He went on to tell Isla more about Agnes, about how she would tuck him into bed at night, take him foraging for mushrooms and teach him how to cook. All the time he was watching her face in the candlelight and wishing he could climb into her bed, pull her into his arms and show her the mysteries of love. He could see the shape of her body under the blankets as she lay on her side watching him, and his shaft stiffened in response to her nearness.
Their gazes locked across the short distance between their beds, and for a moment the air crackled with tension, before Isla murmured: “goodnight, Finley,” then blew out the candle. She pulled her blanket over her shoulder and turned her back on him.
Finley sighed with frustration. It was going to be a restless night.
16
The next day was the one they had both been dreading, the day when she would finally confront her intended and see face to face what her fate would look like if she failed to act. Isla had only seen Iain Crawford from a distance before, and then only for a few moments at a time, so she had no real idea what he looked like up close to. Finley hoped she would not be too shocked.
He was awake first, so he took the chance to dress and wash himself in the basin before Isla was awake. Before he went downstairs to speak to Angus, he knelt down beside her to look into her sleeping face.
‘How beautiful she is,’he thought. He had to resist the impulse to kiss her again, so he stayed on his knees looking into the face that had come to mean so much to him. With her eyes closed, Finley could see the long curling eyelashes that shadowed Isla’s high cheekbones, and below her pert nose and her full lips was an enchanting little dimple in her chin. He longed to playfully put his thumb in it, and smiled at the thought.
Her hair, as dark brown and glossy as the ebony furniture he had only seen in the houses of the wealthy, was spread like a banner over the white pillowcase. Greatly daring, he dropped a soft kiss on her forehead and inhaled the soft musk of her body, feeling the instant response of his manhood. He stood up and let himself out of the room, closing the door quietly before going downstairs. He decided that he would only wake Isla when he absolutely had to. He needed some time to recover first.
“Did ye sleep well, lad?” Angus asked as a slightly bleary-eyed Finley arrived in the kitchen after a fitful night’s sleep.
“Aye, of course, Angus, thank you,” he answered, then gave the lie to his statement by yawning widely.
Angus looked at him suspiciously, but said nothing. There could be many reasons why Finley had not slept well, but as a man himself, he thought could guess what the main one was. Unrequited love was the biggest thief of sleep he could imagine.
* * *
Isla had slept surprisingly well, and came down looking well-rested and fresh as a daisy. Inside, she was full of dread and apprehension, but she made sure to put on a happy face in front of Angus.
“Sleep all right, hen?” he asked, smiling at her.
Isla was wearing one of the dresses Finley had bought her, a dark brown one that picked out the colour of her eyes. She looked even lovelier than usual, Finley thought, but he said nothing and merely gave her a smile of greeting.
“Very well, thank you, Mr McDade,” she replied. “And thank you for your wonderful hospitality.
“My pleasure,” the old man said graciously. “Now—time for breakfast?”
“Aye,” Finley replied eagerly.
“You an’ your stomach!” Angus cast his eyes heavenwards and Isla laughed. “Ye have never seen a man emptyin’ a plate faster than Finley McGill!” Angus grumbled, but Isla could see the twinkle in his eyes. Even though they were a generation apart, the two men were firm friends.
They ate breakfast with Finley and Angus chatting about mundane subjects while Isla listened with outward interest, making all the right noises and smiling in all the right places even while she was trembling with terror inside. Finley’s hand squeezed hers under the table and she felt a little better for a moment, but when Angus mentioned Iain Crawford’s name she immediately felt herself sinking into despair again.
“He is a nasty bit o’ work, that man,” he grumbled. “Always drunk, always ready to pick a fight. Ye should stay away fae him, Finley.”
“I think I can take him on, Angus,” Finley said grimly, “but tae be honest, I have better things tae dae wi’ my time than bother about the likes o’ him.” Once again, he gripped Isla’s hand, this time more tightly, but it was no good; she was sick with fear.
“Time tae go. Ready, Isla?” Finley asked, then smiled.
“Yes,” she replied, a little over-brightly. “Time to get back.”
“It was pleasure tae meet ye, Isla.” Angus’s voice was warm, and his eyes shone with pleasure as he clasped her hand with both of hers. “Please come an’ see me any time ye are passin’. I like a pretty lady in my home.” He gave her a wink, and Isla laughed, waved and mounted Raffy.
They rode down the street until they were a few hundred yards away from the tavern, then Finley turned them away off the street and into a little alley out of sight so that they could talk without being overheard.
They dismounted, then he looked down into her terrified face and felt her trembling as he put his hands on her shoulders to steady her. “I cannae tell ye no’ tae be afraid, Isla, because I know ye are, but remember I will be as near as I can be all the time. Iain Crawford is a big man, but he isnae in very good shape, an’ I am fairly sure that I can beat him tae a pulp without tryin’ very hard. I am goin’ tae put the horses in the tavern stables, so you walk up there nice an’ slow, an’ I will be right behind ye. Understand?”
“Y-yes,” Isla stammered. “But I am so scared, Finley.”
