Page 109 of A Wife for the Highland Villain
Alasdair shook his head, and his voice dropped low. “And what if she cannae?”
“That right there,” Finn shot back, raising his finger. “That is the very thing that drove her away. Yer doubt. Yer need to shield her so badly that ye daenae see how strong she is.”
The truth of those words cut deep, and Alasdair gripped the edge of his desk, his knuckles white.
Finn was right. Lily never once doubted him. She believed she was safe with him. But he doubted her. He doubtedthem. And in his desperation to guard her, he pushed her away.
Finn’s voice softened, though his smirk stayed. “Well then, ye’ve done it. But daenae worry. We can wait another ten years, track her to some remote village, and abduct her all over again. Worked fine the first time, did it nae?”
A bitter laugh escaped Alasdair’s lips. “I’ve truly stepped in it this time, have I nae?”
Finn tilted his head. “If ye have to ask…”
Alasdair dragged his palm over his face, the weight of it heavy. “There’s nay coming back from this. I ken there’s a traitor within these walls, Finn. Ye have to understand that I couldnae keep her here while such a serpent roamed free. Did ye ken she was almost killed in her chamber last night?”
“I didnae ken,” Finn muttered, shrugging. “I was… occupied.”
Alasdair’s eyes narrowed. “Occupied with what?”
Before Finn could respond, a knock sounded at the door. They both turned and watched a maid enter.
“Me Laird, the councilmen have arrived. They’re waiting for ye in the Great Hall.”
Alasdair gave a curt nod. “Tell them I’ll be down shortly.”
The maid nodded. Then, her gaze flicked to Finn, and a flush spread across her cheeks. She mumbled a greeting and hurried out.
Finn grinned after her, slow and satisfied.
Alasdair looked from the door to him, his confusion plain. “So that was what ye were doing?”
Finn’s grin widened, his eyes alight with mischief.
Alasdair blinked. “Wait, I thought?—”
“Variety is the spice of life,” Finn cut in. “And I like to taste every spice.”
Alasdair stared at him blankly. “Finn, if this is the moment ye tell me ye’ve been bedding them by the handful, I swear?—”
“Ah, I prefer to savor a single taste for itself,” Finn interrupted, still smiling. “Mostly.”
Alasdair pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience wearing thin. “We’ll speak of yer…preferences later. Or never again, preferably.” He shoved away from the desk and strode to the door. “Right now, I have councilmen waiting. And I need to speak with me uncle.”
Finn pushed off the wall and followed, curiosity lacing his tone. “Why do ye need to speak with him?”
Alasdair’s voice was low and rough. “Because I need to ken why he wants me and me wife dead.”
The words echoed through the room, heavy as steel, and the silence that followed was thick enough to choke.
Alasdair gripped the door handle. He had faced raiders, battles, and betrayals on the field. Yet the thought of facing his uncle with his suspicions settled like stone in his gut.
Finn’s voice broke through the haze. “If ye mean to accuse him, ye’d better be sure. Accusing a member of the council without proper evidence isnae advisable.”
Alasdair clenched his jaw. “Just trust me, will ye?”
Finn studied him for a long moment, then shrugged. “I’ll come along. Someone needs to drag yer stubborn arse out if this turns ugly.”
Alasdair gave a short nod, the weight of the moment pressing down on him.
