Page 26 of Promised to the Ruthless Laird
The past week had been… different.
She had spent them surrounded by things she had long scoffed at, by conversations laced with meaning she had never cared to untangle, by the quiet temptation of a life that had never been meant for her.
By Finley.
The thought of him twisted something inside her.
He had been a thorn in her side; infuriating, impatient, always quick to challenge her. And yet, he had made her laugh. He hadmade her think. He had made her wonder — just for a moment — if there was something else she could want. Something beyond the Triad.
How easily she had been swayed. How foolish she had been.
The realization settled over her like a shroud, heavy and unrelenting. The outside world had clouded her judgment, had made her hesitate, made her consider things she never should have allowed herself to consider. A life outside the Triad? A life where she was someone softer, someone open to the affections of a man?
No.
Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, nails biting into her palms.
This was where she belonged. The Triad was the only thing she could trust. It always had been.
She had let herself forget that.
Margaret must have seen something in her face because her expression shifted, the sharp amusement she always carried fading into something more knowing.
“All good, lass?” she asked, her voice quiet but firm.
The enormity of the question pressed against Edin’s chest. Margaret had always been able to see through her. Even when she was a reckless girl with too much to prove, Margaret had looked at her like she saw the pieces within her that she refused to acknowledge herself.
Edin forced her jaw to tighten, forced the doubt, the hesitation, the foolish longing for something she could never have out of her mind.
“Aye,” she said, and this time, she meant it.
She was Triad. She would always be Triad.
Margaret’s rough hands settled on her face again, only for a brief moment, warm against Edin’s chilled skin. It was a grounding touch, one that pulled her back to the present. She had fought for this life.
And she would not let herself be distracted again.
As Margaret pulled away, Edin took a slow breath, steadying herself.
“Aye, it’s been long indeed,” Edin said, stepping back and smoothing her hands down the front of her cloak. “Too long.”
Margaret gave a slow nod, eyes narrowing slightly. “And what brings ye back, then? Ye’re nae just here tae catch up, I reckon. I was told ye would be coming.”
Edin hesitated only a fraction of a moment before speaking. “I need information.” She cast a glance toward Finley, who stood rigid beside her, his jaw clenched tight, his arms folded across his chest. Even in the dim glow of the room’s scattered candlelight, she could see the tension rolling off him in waves. She forced herself to ignore it. “There was a kidnapping nearly a year ago. I need tae ken what happened.”
Margaret’s lips pursed. “A kidnapping, is it?”
“Aye,” Edin confirmed. “Lennox’s daughter.”
At that, Margaret’s brows lifted, her head tilting ever so slightly to the side. A murmured hush swept through the room as the other women took notice, some setting aside their work, their quiet conversations falling silent.
Margaret folded her arms, considering. “Lennox? Aye..”
Edin leaned forward, pulse quickening. “Ye ken somethin’, then?”
Margaret exhaled, nodding slowly, her gaze unreadable. “Aye, lass. The Lennoxes are friends o’ ours.”
The words should have brought relief, but instead, Edin felt the crackling energy beside her shift — darkening, sharpening like the edge of a blade.
