Page 5 of Promised to the Ruthless Laird
He let out a dry chuckle. “Three days of hard riding will tae that tae a man. We set out at first light.”
Edin nodded and moved toward the door. “I’ll be downstairs if ye need me. Try nae tae draw any more attention tae yerself.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Wait.” Finley stepped forward, his hand reaching out as if to stop her.
Edin turned, her expression unyielding as she met his gaze. She was little patience left for his hesitance, no matter how much his fumbling attempts to manage the situation amused her. She tilted her head, waiting for him to find his words.
“Ye werenae meant to be here till tomorrow. I didnae have time to make the proper arrangements fer ye.”
Edin crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, refusing to let his tone rattle her. “I told ye already, I’m nae early. I’m exactly on time,” she replied, her words sharp and clipped.
She offered no further explanation. There was no need for him to know the full truth — that she’d been following him for days, keeping just enough distance to remain unnoticed. Shadowinghim had proven far more useful than any conversation would’ve been. Actions, after all, spoke louder than words.
And she’d learned a great deal about the man in the process.
She’d seen how he never removed the family crest from his coat, the distinctive lion emblem pinned boldly to his chest. It was a foolish choice for someone attempting to keep a low profile, as there was no easier way to attract attention than parading around with a symbol so widely recognized. It made him memorable — a dangerous quality on a mission that demanded discretion.
Then there was his apparent love for the finer things. He’d slip into a shop quietly enough, only to walk out with the most expensive wares they had to offer. It was as if he thought he could balance subtlety and extravagance in the same breath. Too naïve for what lay ahead.
Trusting a stranger simply because she’d paid them wasn’t something Edin was daft enough to do. Finley had potential, perhaps, but there was work to be done if he were to become what she needed him to be.
Finley’s eyes narrowed, skepticism writ large on his face. “Aye, fine,” he muttered, though his tone suggested he was anything but convinced. He hesitated before adding, “As ye dinnae have a room, ye can stay here, then,” he offered, gesturing vaguely to the room around them. “If ye’ve nay other place, this’ll dae. It’s nae much, but it’s somethin’.”
Edin studied him for a moment, her gaze flicking over his features. She could see the faint lines of weariness etched into his face, the shadows beneath his eyes that spoke of a man who hadn’t properly slept in a long time. She’d grant him one thing — he was genuine in his offer, at least. Still, it wasn’t kindness that mattered here. It was competence.
His words were blunt, but Edin wasn’t one to take offense easily. “Yer room will dae,” she said matter-of-factly, her tone cool.
Finley snorted, shaking his head with a wry grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Aye, ye’re nay stranger tae takin’ what suits ye, are ye?” He dragged a hand down his face, muttering under his breath, something she caught as a curse aimed more at himself than her. “Fine, then. But ye might’ve at least asked afore invitin’ yerself in.”
“I didnae think I needed tae,” Edin replied, her voice as even as her gaze. She unclasped her cloak with deft fingers and folded it neatly over the edge of the narrow bed. The room would suffice.
“As we travel, it’s best we avoid booking rooms where possible,” she added, turning her attention back to him. “Leavin’ names behind or drawin’ attention could spell trouble fer us.”
Finley raised a brow. “Trouble, aye? Ye make it sound like the devil himself is hot on our heels. Is there somethin’ ye’re nae tellin’ me, lass?”
Edin’s expression remained neutral. “Let’s just say ye never ken what forces are at play. Carelessness costs far more than caution ever will.”
“Caution, is it? Ye Triad folk,” he shot back, leaning against the table with his arms crossed over his broad chest, “always so sure ye’re the only ones wi’ the wit tae ken what’s best.”
“Idaeken what’s best,” she said plainly, turning to face him fully now. Her gray eyes held his, unwavering and calm.
Finley shrugged, though the tension in his posture betrayed him. “I think ye’re exaggeratin’, that’s all. Ye act like we’re marchin’ tae war when we’ve barely started.”
Her gaze sharpened, though her tone stayed steady, the edge in it unmistakable. “If ye’ve any hope of findin’ yer sister, ye’ll listen tae me. Emotion clouds judgment, and I willnae have yer recklessness riskin’ what’s already a fragile situation.”
The muscles in Finley’s jaw twitched beneath his stubble. For a heartbeat, Edin thought he might lash out, but instead, he moved away from the table and stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low growl. “Ye think I’m reckless, dae ye? Let me tell ye somethin’, lass. Nay one —nay one— wants tae find Davina more than I dae. I’ll dae whatever it takes. But I’ll nae be takin’ orders like some lowly foot soldier. This is as muchmefight as it is yers.”
Edin tilted her head slightly, studying him like one might assess the edge of a blade. His frustration was plain enough, butbeneath it lay a fire she couldn’t help but respect. He wasn’t wrong — this was his battle, too. But battles weren’t won on raw determination alone.
“Then we rest,” she said finally. “Tomorrow will be a long day and ye’ll need yer wits about ye.”
Finley let out a quiet scoff, though the tension in his shoulders eased just slightly. “Aye, fine. But dinnae think I’ll be obeying yer every word, Edin. This isnae some bloody dictatorship.”
Edin didn’t bother to reply. Instead, she moved to the chair near the hearth, lowering herself with practiced ease. The flicker of firelight cast shadows over her face as her mind turned to the days ahead.
She felt his eyes on her still, lingering like a question unasked. She knew well enough that he wanted to say more; likely another challenge to her authority, or some quip meant to remind her of his station. She’d give him no such satisfaction.
