Page 19 of Promised to the Ruthless Laird
The words hung between them, and for a moment, the air in the room thickened, heavy with unspoken emotions.
With a final glance at her, Finley turned, his boots heavy against the floor as he made his way back toward the door. “We’ll talk again soon, Edin,” he said over his shoulder, his voice low and steady, the heat of the moment still clinging to the edges of his words.
As he closed the door behind him, he couldn’t help but smile to himself. She was a puzzle, a challenge, and he was more than willing to spend the time figuring her out.
Finley found himself walking the path to a tavern he had seen earlier, his mind a jumbled mess of thoughts he didn’t know how to sort. The conversation with Edin lingered like smoke in his lungs, the teasing remarks, the unspoken things that hovered between them.
He couldn’t get her out of his mind — her sharp wit, the defiance in her eyes, and the warmth that had flickered across her face when he dared to push her buttons. She was so damn closed off, yet for a moment, he had seen something different. Something he hadn’t expected. And that bloody blush of hers...
By the time he pushed open the door to the tavern, the low murmur of conversation and clinking mugs barely registered. He went to the counter and ordered a drink. A few moments later, the mug of whisky was placed before him, the amber liquid swirling in the dim light.
Finley took a long gulp, the burn of the alcohol doing little to soothe his mind. Why was he so damn forthcoming with her? He didn’t act like that with anyone else But Edin... Edin was different. She didn’t make him feel like a man, she made him feel like a fool. A fool for wanting her, and a fool for thinking she might feel the same.
He leaned back against the bar, his elbows resting on the worn wood, staring into his drink. The tavern was quiet for amoment, save for the occasional chatter that drifted from the far corner. He had never been one to let his emotions rule his actions. He had enough of his father’s lessons. But with Edin, it was different. Every time he thought about her, something inside him stirred — a strange mix of curiosity, frustration, and... desire. Damn her for making him feel this way.
His hand tightened around the mug as he took another swallow, the heat of the whiskey warming him but doing nothing to ease the tension that coiled in his chest. This wasn’t him. He wasn’t some love-struck fool, one to go after a woman just because she gave him a wink or a smile. He had bigger things to focus on. He had responsibilities, bloody responsibilities that had been placed on his shoulders long before he had ever laid eyes on Edin.
Finley’s thoughts shifted back to Davina. Her disappearance had haunted him for months, and now, with his father’s health failing, the urgency of finding her weighed even more heavily on him. He knew that bringing her back was not just about family, but about securing the legacy of his clan. He couldn’t afford distractions — not with so much at stake —yet, he felt and undeniable pull toward Edin that only complicated things further.
He slammed the mug down onto the counter with sudden force, the sound echoing through the quiet tavern. A couple of heads turned, but Finley didn’t care. His jaw clenched as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes narrowing in thought.
Edin was nothing more than a distraction. A bloody distraction that he couldn’t afford. He had to keep his focus on what mattered. His father’s health, the responsibility of taking his place as laird, the duty to his clan, his mission to find Davina. Everything else was secondary. Even her.
Finley stared at the empty mug before him. The cold, hard reality of his duties pressed down on him like a weight he couldn’t shake off. His mind raced with the same questions that always seemed to cloud his thoughts: What would happen to the Lennox name if he failed? What would his father think of him? What would become of Davina?
He’d always known his life would be one of responsibility, of duty. His father had made it clear from the beginning: there would be no room for mistakes or weakness. Finley had been raised to understand the importance of family, of legacy, of sacrifice. Every decision had to be made with the future in mind. And yet, here he was, contemplating a fleeting temptation that could never fit into the rigid framework he lived in.
Edin wasn’t part of that world. She was something wild, free — so different from the path Finley had to walk. She could never be a part of the carefully constructed life he was expected to lead. He’d known from the beginning that his father would choose a wife for him, a match that would serve the clan’s interests. It was a necessary union, one that would ensure the future of the Lennox name.
Finley’s gaze drifted toward the door of the tavern, the wind howling outside. The cold air carried with it the bitter reminderthat he was not his own man. He was bound by duty, by obligation. He had to return to his father, to his clan, to the mission that awaited him. The promise of a future with Edin — however tempting it was — was a future that would never materialize. Not with the pressure of the legacy on his shoulders and the responsibility to his people.
He closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling slowly. He could already see the marriage contract, his father’s stern face, the burden of tradition pressing down on him. It wasn’t about love; it was about duty; about preserving the Lennox bloodline; about ensuring that the legacy would continue even after he took his place as laird.
Finley stood up abruptly, the motion almost jerky, as though he could shake off the pull of his own desires. He needed clarity, needed to reset his focus. The mission, the clan, his father — they were his priority. The rest had to wait.
He made his way to the door of the tavern. The chill of the night air hit him immediately, clearing his mind as he stepped outside, his breath visible in the cold. There was nothing to be gained by pursuing Edin.
No matter how much his body ached for her, no matter how much his mind wandered to her, he had to let it go. He wasn’t a man who chased after fleeting passions.
With a final glance over his shoulder, Finley turned and walked into the darkness, leaving the warmth of the tavern behind him.
CHAPTER NINE
The next morning, Finley woke before dawn, the gray light of early morning seeping through the cracks in the wooden shutters, painting the small room in muted tones. He sat up slowly, the ache of the night on the floor settling into his bones. The faint snores from the bed told him that Edin was still asleep, wrapped in whatever dreams haunted her restless mind.
The embers in the hearth had long since faded, leaving the room cold. Finley pushed the warm blanket aside, his thoughts already turning toward the day ahead. They had a journey to make, and every moment they lingered was a moment wasted — another moment Davina remained lost, her fate unknown.
God above, where are ye, Davina?The question gnawed at him, a constant companion since the day she’d disappeared. The weight of his duty pressed down on him once again. The mission was clear, the path laid out, and yet, his mind kept wandering back to Edin. Her sharp eyes, her biting wit, the defiance that sparked whenever they locked eyes.
Why did she affect him so?
He forced himself to put an end to his thoughts. Entertaining them any further was a waste of time, an indulgence he couldn’t afford. There were far more pressing matters at hand. Dwelling would do nothing but distract him, and that was a luxury that came at too steep a price.
With a sigh, he stood and dressed quickly, fastening his belt and ensuring his dagger was within easy reach. His father’s stern voice echoed in his mind. Never let yer guard down, lad.
He glanced over at Edin, still curled beneath her blanket, her face softened by sleep. For all her bravado, she seemed so small in the dim light, vulnerable in a way he doubted she would ever allow him to see when she was awake. Finley’s jaw tightened. He had to focus.
The sound of Edin stirring pulled him from his thoughts. She stretched lazily, eyes fluttering open. But then she sat up, and the mask was back, her expression carefully neutral.
