Chapter 21

21

A s she made her way back down into the stables, she passed through the great hall, and her eyes traced the flurry of movement as the wedding preparations unfolded before her.

She never imagined herself as a Scottish bride, but there was a strange sense of belonging there, even with the unfamiliar customs. Diana had snuck away from the stables and was quietly speaking with Saoirse as they tied together herb satchels.

“She’s taken to it well,” Thalia heard Rowan’s voice just behind her, nodding toward Diana.

“I’m glad! It’s good for her to have something of her own.” Thalia rested both hands on her hips proudly.

“Aye,” the woman agreed, and Thalia’s gaze landed on the almost full basket down one of the tables. “And the twins, they’ve been happy runnin’ around about with my Euan, causing all sorts of mischief.”

She laughed. “Oh, Caroline and Arabella are still young enough to find trouble every chance they get.”

“Ach! They’re young; let them run wild for a bit. Better than staying cooped up, frettin’ like old hens.”

Thalia’s gaze swept across the room again, her heart lighter than it had been in months. Euan was indeed underfoot, being chased in and out of the great hall by the twins — who had apparently gotten bored of waiting in the stables. Diana was still hunched over a table speaking in whispers to Saoirse, either cracking a smile or a soft laugh every now and then.

And then there was Finn.

Her breath caught in her chest at the mere thought of him, but now, he was there. Striding through the hall, his presence immediately commanded attention. He was speaking with Cillian, but his eyes found hers instantly. For a brief moment, their gazes locked, and a flicker of something passed between them. It made her heart race.

Thalia smiled, and he nodded in return, his expression unreadable. Suddenly, a familiar sense of dread crept into her chest as she tried and failed to push thoughts of her uncle into the back of her mind, and she remembered that Finn had gotten a letter from him last night over dinner that sparked this all.

He will never get them. He must never, ever get them.

Her resolve was palpable and yet misinterpreted by Rowan, who was still standing near her.

“Aye, the Laird is a good match.”

“What’s that?” Thalia asked over her shoulder, her eyes never leaving him as he navigated through the hall swiftly.

“The Laird. He’s brawn, smart, kind, and he used to be quite handsome before?—”

She turned to face Rowan at this admission. “Quite?”

“Oh aye, the scars are nae too deep. Ye must ken that.”

“Hmm…” Thalia hummed and nodded thoughtfully as she chewed on her cheek momentarily. The scars that marked Finn’s body had indeed become less and less prominent in her eyes.

The scars that started this whole arrangement.

Euan interrupted her thought as he ran smack into her legs with an audible, “OOMPF!”

“Euan, ye will get a smack bottom if ye dinnae watch where ye are headed! Apologize now,” Rowan demanded.

The young boy giggled but went through the motions of bowing his head and mumbling an apology before raising his small hand up in the air. In his fist was a crumpled letter addressed to her.

“I — I was trying to deliver this to ye, Miss,” Euan said quickly and then shoved it toward Thalia eagerly.

“Oh! Thank you,” she said and gripped the letter, relieving him of his duty. In an instant the young boy tore off through the hall again with her sisters.

She ripped through the familiar seal in one swift motion and let the envelope fall to the ground.

Thalia Sinclair,

You think you can hide from me? You think you and your sisters can escape with what is rightfully mine? When I find you, there will be no mercy. Do not forget that you belong to me. Do not forget that everything you hold dear belongs to me.

The Viscount Pemberton

She swallowed hard, and slowly knelt down to collect the envelope from the floor. When she rose again, Rowan had been replaced by Finn. His hand outstretched for the letter, jaw clenched, a deep scowl across his face. He had moved with deadly stealth that sent a shiver down her spine thinking about his brutality. Once feared, now revered. “Pemberton,” was all he said.

His statement all but confirmed that the letter she had just read was not something of a dream. Her uncle had truly threatened her, and her mind was racing. In the middle of the soft, white taffeta and fragrant blooms, panic was starting to set in.

“He’s desperate,” Finn growled, skimming over the letter and then crumbling it up. Her eyes fell on his hands as he deposited it in his pocket. “Desperate men are pitiful but also dangerous.”

Thalia nodded numbly, her eyes still resting on his pocketed hand. “I’m sorry…Finn. I never meant for this to be your burden too.”

His tone softened slightly, but she could sense that his anger remained. “It’s nae your fault, lass. Ye and your kin are under my protection. He will have to go through me to get to any of ye.”

“I hate that this is happening,” she managed to say without her voice cracking.

Finn’s pocketed hand reached for her chin and lifted it. His expression had completely changed; the lines on his face were soft, and his eyes bore into hers as he reached up to brush a strand of hair from her face. “I’d deal with far worse for ye, Thalia.”

His words hit her core, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. She just stared back up at him, lost in the intensity and closeness of his gaze.

How have we gotten to the point where he would willingly put himself in danger for me?

She laughed inwardly at her incredulous question because it had been right from the start. The day that they met. He would have protected her even then.

“I’ll handle him,” Finn said firmly. “He’s nae a threat to me or Clan Crawford. But I need ye to trust me. I need ye to believe that and not go off to do it yer own way.”

Thalia swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. “I trust you, Finn.”

Those words felt both terrifying and freeing at the same time because she did trust him, and that scared her but also gave her a strange sense of comfort. Finn left her with a small, almost imperceptible nod.

Rowan returned shortly after his departure with a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Saoirse closed the distance between them. “So, that was lovely to watch,” she said pointing at the growing space between Thalia and her retreating Laird.

It was intense is what it was.

Thalia chuckled, speechless. “Well…?” she managed to eke out.

“Ach! Get off it, Saoirse. They’re in love,” Rowan said frankly, swatting playfully at the other woman. All three of them laughed and turned back to their preparations.

“That was mighty gallant of him,” Rowan said quietly a few minutes later so that only Thalia could hear.

“You heard, then?”

“Aye, though I did try nae to. The balcony is only so big, ya ken?”

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry to burden you with that, Rowan.”

“Dinnae fash, Miss. Ye are part of Clan Crawford now. A threat to ye is a threat to us all. The Laird was right. Ye and your kin are safe here.”

“I just feel like I can’t give him enough back, you know?”

Rowan looked at her bewildered. “Do ye fight, lass?”

“Oh no, I just meant, he’s providing and protecting me and my sisters. I don’t have anything I can do or give to provide for him as—” she paused, choosing her words carefully, “— as, say, a bride or wife would.” This is not coming out how I want it to.

“I ken ye wish to serve the Laird as his wife. Ye will fashion a household and care for the family. Serve as Lady of Crawford clan. Be a maker.”

A maker. That’s it! I just want to be able to give him something in return for his protection. “Yes, precisely. I don’t want to be a burden but a partner.”

Rowan nodded her head and then a flash of brilliance crossed her bright blue eyes. “How about we go down to the kitchen and gather a picnic for ye?”

A picnic… what a perfect way to show my gratitude!

Thalia beamed, “Yes! Exactly!”

Rowan led her down a small staircase off the hall and helped her prepare a simple but hearty meal — fresh bread, roasted meats, cheeses, and fruits. Rowan insisted on adding a bottle of wine, a rarity, but as she put it “perfect for an occasion such as this.”

Once everything was ready, Rowan called Cillian down into the kitchens to help Thalia set up near the loch, just beyond the castle. The spot was secluded, surrounded by trees, with a perfect view of the water as the sun dipped below the horizon.

The evening air was cool and crisp on Thalia’s radiant skin, and she couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves as she waited for Finn to arrive. She had asked Rowan and Cillian to send him her way when he came down for dinner, but now, as she stood by the spread and blanket, she worried that it might have been a foolish idea.

Will he appreciate this or see it as a silly distraction?

She started pacing.

Frivolous.

Thoughtful.

Just as her doubt began to overwhelm her, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Finn walked through the trees and into the clearing, his expression curious but guarded.

“What’s this then?” he asked, his eyes scanning the picnic and then taking in Thalia. “You look nice,” he said without hesitation and then looked down at what he was wearing.

She had quickly changed out of the dress she wore that day and haphazardly wrestled on a dark green and black wool dress with tiny gold embellishments around the waist and buttons. It wasn’t meant to be formal, but she had aimed to impress him.

Thalia smiled nervously, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His eyes tracked her movements and then rested back on hers as she said, “I wanted to do something for you. Something… nice. You’ve been carrying so much on your shoulders, for me especially, and I thought maybe you could use a break.”

Finn’s brow furrowed, but there was a subtle softness in his gaze. “Ye did this all for me?”

She nodded, feeling her heartbeat through her chest. “I know — I know it’s not much, but I just… I wanted to show you that I care. That I appreciate everything you have done for my sisters… and me.”

Finn stood still for a moment, his eyes fixed on her, and Thalia felt a wave of uncertainty wash over her. “If — if it’s too much —” she started to say, but then he slowly stepped toward her and knelt down on the blanket. His movements deliberate and unhurried.

“Well then,” he said, his voice low and steady, “let’s see what ye have fixed for us.”

Thalia exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and quickly joined him on the blanket. They ate in comfortable silence, savoring the flavors of the food and wine. The sounds of the loch and distant calls of birds filled the space. Finn seemed more relaxed than she had seen him in days, and for that alone, she felt a sense of accomplishment.

As the sun continued to fall, Thalia found herself stealing glances at Finn, marveling at how different he seemed in this moment. It was as if the world and all the problems had paused.

“I’ve nae ever seen ye look so calm,” Finn remarked, his voice cutting through the quiet and echoing her exact thoughts about him, and Thalia smiled softly.

His eyes flickered toward her, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw something different in his gaze. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the familiar guarded expression he always wore. “Ye have a way with words, lass,” he muttered ironically and picked a piece of grass from the blanket, flicking it into the cool breeze.

Thalia started laughing softly under her breath that built into an audible giggle. She caught Finn fighting a smile and pointed at him. “Don’t you hide that from me!” Her joyful accusation tugged harder at his mouth, and he finally let out an exasperated laugh.

After they both quieted, Finn spoke first, “Finish yer wine, lass. I want to show ye something.”