Page 82 of Love with a Scottish Outlaw
“I saw you run in from outside,” Cat said hesitantly. “Are you well?”
Finn didn’t meet her gaze and said nothing.
“I saw Laird Carlyle head out just before. You spoke?”
“I don’t want to talk about him. He thinks only he knows best, and that I have to do anythin’ he says.”
Cat didn’t point out that those things were most likely true. Instead, she sat on a rock beside Finn and spoke quietly. “Perhaps you’d have better luck reasoning with his lairdship if you told him the truth about yourself.”
Finn crouched back over her little stone village, shoulders hunched, as if she could protect her entire little stone world. “I cannot. He’ll be mad and send me away even sooner.”
“I think he’ll be sad you didn’t trust him sooner.”
“Are ye going to break your word and tell him?” Finn accused.
That angry look pierced Cat like an arrow. “No, I promised I wouldn’t, and I won’t. But the lie must surely be eating at you, and grow more and more difficult to hide. You cannot make water against a tree like the boys.”
“I’ve spent years gettin’ around that,” Finn said with scorn.
“When summer comes, they’ll all swim without their clothes, and you won’t be able to.”
“I can’t swim.”
“You have an answer for everything,” Cat said with a sigh. “But trust me, I have a secret, too, and it’s tearing me up inside.”
Finn stared at her, wide-eyed. “You, mistress?”
“Me. I will tell you, and though I won’t swear you to secrecy, I ask you to allow me to tell everyone in my own way, as I’ve allowed you the same courtesy.”
“Of course,” Finn said eagerly, sitting on another rock across from Cat.
Cat guessed the girl was desperate to find someone else trapped in lies, just like Finn herself. And maybe this was a mistake, but perhaps sharing her own mistakes would help the girl see that lies only tangled a person the longer they went on.
“A couple days ago,” Cat began softly, “all of my memories began to return.”
Finn’s mouth dropped open, and she leaned forward. “Ye remembered yer life!”
Cat nodded.
“But . . . ye told no one.”
“I told Laird Carlyle.”
Finn frowned. “He must be glad for ye.”
With a shrug, Cat said, “It is not so easy. If everyone found out who I am, it might cause . . . hard feelings.”
“But . . . ye’re a woman alone.”
“I am, but I’m of the Duff clan, Finn, and we’ve been enemies of the Carlyles.”
“Oh.” Finn may have lived in town rather than the Highlands, but she obviously knew of the great clan rivalries and the feuds that could last centuries. “His lairdship is protectin’ ye. He’s a good man.”
Protecting her. Cat could have choked. “It’s not just that. Everyone here is doing good deeds for others. Finn, I am the sort of woman who takes the wealth of my family for granted. I have done very little except enjoy my life while others are struggling to survive, or risking their lives on behalf of children.”
“Like Himself,” Finn breathed.
Cat nodded. “It makes me feel . . . ashamed.” She bowed her head.
