Page 8 of Promised to the Ruthless Laird
A sly grin tugged at the corners of Edin’s lips, though she kept her expression careful, not giving away too much. “A small ship, Finley,” she said, her words wary as they hung in the air between them. “We’ll take it up the water. Far less noticeable than horses, aye. And anyone who sees us boardin’ will think we’re just headin’ tae Skye.”
Finley frowned, brows knitting together. “Ye truly think someone’s followin’ us?”
“Aye, I dae think it is a possibility. It’s better tae be cautious than gamble.”
Finley shook his head, disbelief clear in his tone. “I would ken if someone’s been followin’ me. I’ve paid attention.”
Edin stifled a chuckle, the irony not lost on her. “Aye, I’m sure,” she replied, keeping her tone even. “But I’m nae takin’ that risk.”
A long silence stretched between them as Finley mulled over her words, the stubborn set of his jaw softening just a fraction. Then he grunted, conceding with reluctance. “If ye say so.”
Edin gave a subtle nod, satisfied, and they continued their walk in silence. She noted the shift in his attitude — far better than the night before, it seemed. The floor had done him some good. Sometimes a little discomfort was all it took to make a man rethink his stubborn ways.
When they reached the docks, the sight that greeted them was less than encouraging — a ship that looked as though it might sink at any moment, creaking under its own weight and bobbing listlessly in the water. Finley stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide in disbelief.
“This is what we’re usin’?” he asked, incredulity thick in his voice.
“Aye,” Edin replied, her tone unbothered. “It’s about discretion, Finley.”
Finley snorted but didn’t protest, following her onto the creaky plank that led to the ship. He adjusted his satchel, glancing around as they stepped aboard. The scent of saltwater and damp wood filled the air, and there was a soft sound of the water slapping against the sides of the vessel. The movement of the ship offered a strange sense of calm, the rocking rhythm a comfort of sorts. As they made their way further onto the deck, a few of the sailing crew approached.
“Welcome aboard,” a tall man with a gruff voice said, tipping his weathered cap. “Name’s Callum, first mate here.”
Finley grinned widely, his tone warm. “Pleasure tae meet ye, Callum. I’m Finley. Anything I can help with, just say the word.”
A shorter, stockier man with a thick beard grinned and gave a nod. “Brodie, the cook. Dinnae expect much, but it’ll fill ye up.”
“Sounds like just what I need!” Finley responded with a hearty laugh. “A full stomach makes everything better, eh?”
Another crew member, a young woman with a quick smile, added, “Lina, the quartermaster. If ye need anything, ye can find me at the supplies.”
“I’ll be sure tae keep that in mind, Lina,” Finley said, giving her a friendly wink. “I’m sure I’ll be needing something before too long.”
Edin offered a nod in return, her mind still preoccupied with having someone like Finley at her side for this journey, though she couldn’t help but notice his easy manner with the crew.
The cabin they were brought to was small — almost too small for two grown adults — but Edin didn’t mind. She moved to one corner, arms folded tightly, settling into the space with a sense of quiet purpose. Finley, on the other hand, paced for a moment, clearly disgruntled by their mode of transport.
“There was truly nay better way tae get us there?” he asked, skepticism dripping from his voice.
Edin glanced up from beneath lowered lashes, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “Aye. This ship, it’s right fer what we need.”
She let the silence linger, giving him time to consider her words. After a long moment, she sighed, her voice lowering to something more serious. “As I mentioned yesterday, we’reheadin’ tae one o’ the Triad’s secret knowledge centers. It’s an honor tae be granted access tae one o’ them.”
Finley blinked, taken aback by her revelation. “So, what happens once we get there?” he asked after a beat, curiosity creeping into his voice.
Edin exhaled slowly, her gaze shifting to the water as it rippled outside the small porthole. “Once we reach the center, we’ll learn what we need tae ken. Then we’ll make our next move. But fer now, we keep quiet, lie low, and let the waters dae their job. We’ll blend in like shadows.”
“So, Edin? What have ye bargained with the crew? Where are we bound, exactly?”
Edin shifted her gaze from the horizon to him, her eyes narrowing’ slightly in the dim light as she weighed how best to explain it. She leaned back against the wall o’ the cabin, arms crossed over her chest. The ship wasn’t large, but it was enough to keep them out of sight, and that was all that mattered.
“We’re headin’ up the coast,” she replied, her tone firm but nae unkind. “A couple o’ days out at sea, far from any prying’ eyes. After that, we’ll take a dory and come ashore somewhere quiet. Far away from any towns. I’ll nae risk folk seein’ us pass through, especially nae in the Highlands, where every soul kens everybody else’s business.”
Finley blinked at her, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Aye, I get ye. Word spreads like wildfire in these parts. Ye’ve thought it through, that’s clear enough.”
Edin gave him a brief, tight-lipped smile, relieved he understood. “Aye, it’s nae just about gettin’ from one place tae the next. It’s about disappearin’ fer a time, so nay one gets the chance tae follow or gossip. Once we’re out o’ sight, we’re ghosts.”
The wind stirred the air outside the cabin, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Edin could tell Finley was still troubled, though he tried to mask it with his usual stoic demeanor. She could feel the tension radiating off him.
