Chapter 7

7

T he Viscount’s eyes flashed with a mixture of fear and anger as he took in the threatening figure slowly moving toward him. His initial pretenses melted away, replaced by a hostile glare. The transformation in his demeanor was palpable, his earlier attempt at contrition now peeling back the fa?ade she knew he had donned.

He stood abruptly. “I am truly sorry for Herbert’s behavior,” he began, his voice shaking and tinged with an insincere note of unfamiliar regret. “He can be rather thoughtless at times, but that does not excuse his actions.”

Thalia’s eyes narrowed as she met her uncle’s gaze. Liar.

“That will just not do, will it? Uncle,” Thalia stated quickly, the mistrust in her rhetoric was unmistakable. The veneer of politeness that her uncle had tried to maintain was slipping, revealing the contempt that lay beneath.

Her uncle’s sudden display of concern in his defense abruptly faltered as he once again observed the imposing Scotsman standing beside her. Finn had taken on a similar accusatory posture. As he took a closer look at Finn, who stood with unyielding authority, his expression shifted. Recognition dawned in his eyes, and his previous display of contrition hardened into palpable hostility. His demeanor was all at once combative, as if he had recognized the true nature of the Highland Laird standing before him.

Thalia smirked smugly, watching her uncle’s posture change. Good, now we’ll finally get somewhere.

Maximillian’s face flushed with anger, his lips curling into a sneer as he looked at Finn. “And who exactly might this Laird Crawford truly be to my dear niece?” he demanded, his voice dripping with disdain. “A hired brute, perhaps, to ensure that her arrival is met with the proper display of force?”

Finn’s gaze remained steady though his eyes darkened with a dangerous glint. He did not flinch at the insult but met Maximilian’s anger with a calm, unyielding stare. The tension in the room grew thick, the air crackling with an almost tangible hostility.

Without warning, Maximilian raised his hand and called out sharply, “Guards! I need you here!” His voice was a harsh command, filled with the desperation of a man cornered by forces he could not control.

Moments later, a couple of burly guards appeared in the doorway, their expressions wary but determined. They hesitated when they saw Finn’s imposing figure, clearly intimidated by the sheer size and strength of the Highlander. The guards exchanged uneasy glances, their hands tightening on their weapons, but they still approached Finn with the intention of escorting him out.

Maximilian’s voice was insistent and commanding. “See to it that this man is removed from my presence. I will not tolerate such an affront to my household.”

The guards took one, synchronous step toward Finn and then halted abruptly, their attempts deftly thwarted by the slender blades pointed at each of their backs. Finn stood his ground, his expression steely and unyielding as Cillian shifted around them to reveal himself. While he portrayed a playful attitude, it was clear that he would defend his laird at all costs. Her gaze landed on Finn once more, who stood his ground, his expression steely and unyielding.

All he needed to do to throw this entire thing into chaos is give Cillian the go ahead. That is not what I want right now.

Maximilian’s attention had shifted back on his niece, his gaze now filled with a mixture of scorn and fury. “So, you’ve come here with this man — these men — have you?” he spat, his voice laced with contempt. “Is this how you conduct yourself now? Scandalously parading around with a foreigner? A Highland barbarian, no less?”

Thalia’s cheeks flushed with a mix of shame and anger. The weight of her uncle’s words was crushing, making her feel as though she were being attacked from all sides. She opened her mouth to defend herself, but her uncle’s tirade continued unabated.

“I always knew you had a loose sense of propriety,” he continued, his voice rising. “But to bring such a man into my home, to flaunt your… indiscretions so openly, it’s beyond the pale. Have you no shame?”

Finn’s anger was palpable, his fists clenching at his sides. He took a step forward, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity. “I will nae tolerate such disrespect,” he growled, his voice a low rumble that resonated with barely contained fury.

This is quickly getting out of hand.

Thalia held up a single hand in warning to Finn. Little did he know, these were not the worst words she has heard from her uncle. She was stoic in her simply reply, “My sisters, uncle.”

The guards, now fully aware of the volatile situation, fled Cillian’s blade and repositioned themselves between Finn and the Viscount. Despite their attempts to maintain order, it was clear that they were struggling to manage the situation. Finn’s presence was a force of nature, and the guards’ attempts to keep him at bay only underscored the tension in the room. Cillian, on the other hand, maintained a nonchalant lean against a pillar, seemingly unconcerned with the escalating conflict, and cleaned some dirt from under his nails.

Her uncle’s insults continued to flow freely, as if he didn’t even hear her simple request, but she knew he had because his face twisted further into a mask of rage and disgust. “You’re nothing but a harlot, Thalia Sinclair,” he spat, his words attempting to cut into her like a knife. “Bringing shame upon our family, bringing such a man into my home. You’ve sullied your reputation beyond repair.”

“How dare you insinuate such a thing! You forget that your own son was the one to throw me into such a man’s lands, Uncle,” Thalia’s exclaimed, but it again fell on the deafness of his furious speech.

“There — There — There is no possible way he hasn’t spoiled you. You’re ruined. You’ve ruined your entire family. It is up to me, now, to save you from this disgusting fate you have so freely waltzed into.”

She saw as Finn’s rage was barely contained, his eyes flashing with a dangerous fire. He stepped protectively toward her uncle to place himself in between her and the insults. The guards, sensing the imminent conflict, held their ground in defense of the Viscount. Their expressions were a mix of anxiety and determination as they tried to keep the situation under control. Her eyes once again found Cillian’s, who simply switched his standing leg with the crossed one.

Thalia’s voice was quiet but cut through the compact tension with the ease of a sharp blade. “Uncle, you will swallow those poisonous words in a pool of your own blood one day. This I vow to you.” Her threat was just barely above a whisper.

Relax. Focus Thalia. Focus.

“However, this is not the time for such insults. I came here with Laird Crawford because he is my protector, my ally in this matter. We need to discuss the issues at hand, not engage in these petty arguments.”

Her uncle’s eyes narrowed. His anger was left unabated. “You expect me to believe that this… Highland brute is here to protect you?” he sneered. “You’ve brought him here to undermine me, to shame me before my own household. I will not stand for it.”

Thalia’s gaze flickered toward Finn, seeking reassurance in his steady presence.

I’ve got this. Don’t do anything stupid.

Despite the chaos around them, there was a sense of unwavering support from him. It was a small comfort amid the storm of her uncle’s fury.

As the Viscount’s tirade continued, she could feel Finn’s frustration reach its peak. His muscles were taut with tension, and she thought again briefly about his arm wrapped around her.

Her memory was burst with a final, furious explosion as her uncle honed in. “If you think you can bring such scandal upon my household and expect me to tolerate it, you are sorely mistaken!” he shouted. “You are no longer welcome here. Leave this place and take your Highland brute with you!”

The room fell into an uneasy silence as her uncle’s words echoed in the air. The guards, though still positioned between Finn and the Viscount, looked uneasy as they sensed the growing tension. Finn’s eyes locked onto Thalia’s, the unspoken communication between them clear despite the chaos around them.

She had lost sight of Cillian in the crazed affair, but she hastened her response in an attempt to diffuse the situation. “We will not leave,” Thalia said firmly, her voice carrying a note of resolve. “We have come to address the issues at hand, and we will not be intimidated by your insults. If you wish to discuss matters further, you will do so with respect. Otherwise, we will seek resolution elsewhere.”

Maximilian’s face turned a deeper shade of red, his anger unrestrained. “How dare you! You harlot deign to speak to me as such!” he roared. “You will not dictate terms in my own home. Guards, remove them from the premises!”

The guards hesitated, their gaze bouncing between Maximilian and Finn, and when they no longer found Cillian, they took a step backward. The sight of Finn’s unyielding stance alone made them reluctant to act. The atmosphere in the room was charged with a volatile mix of anger and defiance, and the guards found themselves caught in the middle.

Finn smiled at their hesitation. He knew Cillian was in the shadow just over the Viscount’s shoulder, and the fool was none the wiser. He also knew that the slimy cousin was hiding in the far corner of the room in the shadows and that he had been here the entire time. Her uncle’s reddened face was wild with fury.

“What? What are you doing! I said remove them at once!”

His guards adjusted themselves uneasily and took a tentative step toward the brute when Cillian finally made himself known from the shadow, the light bounced off his blade, and the glint caught her uncle’s eyes as intended.

As his eyes fell on the Highlander behind him, Cillian pointed a second blade in the direction of the man’s son. Finn noticed Thalia strain to see who Cillian had been threatening.

Surely, he doesnae have a death wish. Though, if he does, then I’ll be sure to grant it.

Quick on his feet, her uncle’s voice rang out triumphantly, his hands held up, “No, wait! Actually — you know what I’m going to do?”

The Viscount gestured for Thalia’s cousin to come closer, but the boy did not move.

“Thalia, you must marry Herbert before word of this incident spreads further. The scandal would be insurmountable, and you know well enough that our family cannot afford such disgrace.”

Oh… but he does indeed.

Thalia’s shoulders fell at her uncle’s declaration, and Finn knew that it was his turn to step in. The peaceful resolution plan had failed as he expected.

Herbert, emerged from the shadow in the far corner, hands raised. He moved uneasily, his eyes darting between Thalia and the imposing figure of Finn. His expression was a mix of surprise and discomfort, a stark contrast to his uncle’s rigid determination.

Finn’s gaze was unwavering as he watched the interaction, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Pemberton…” he declared, his tone edged with a barely concealed irritation and awareness. Thalia’s eyes widened, and a faint smirk tugged at her lips as she caught the shift in her uncle’s expression.

“… that is nae going to happen,” Finn finished, his voice firm as he squared his shoulders. He stepped forward, his imposing frame making a stark contrast against the backdrop of the opulent yet deteriorating room. “First, it is I who will wed Miss Thalia. That is nae up for discussion. Second, we came here nae to seek your blessing but to retrieve the Sinclair sisters and take them with us.”

The Viscount’s face contorted with rage as Finn’s words registered. His eyes bulged with a mixture of fury and disbelief. “What nonsense are you spouting now?” he roared. “You think you can just barge into my home and make demands? Who do you think you are?”

Finn’s jaw tightened as he held the man’s gaze. “I am the man who is here to ensure that Thalia and her sisters are safe from your scheming. I will nae tolerate your attempts to marry her off to your son, nor will I allow you to manipulate this situation for your own selfish gain.”

The Viscount’s face darkened further, his anger boiling over at Finn’s persistent disrespect. “I don’t care who you are or what you think you’re entitled to. You will not take Thalia or her sisters from this house without my consent. If you think you can waltz in here and dictate terms, you’re sorely mistaken.”

In an unexpected burst of aggression, her uncle reached out and grabbed Thalia by the arm and yanked her toward him. “You are to come with me,” he ordered, his voice harsh and unyielding. “We’re going to have a private discussion about your future.”

Finn saw red, and the Viscount’s words started to blur into unfamiliar sounds. He moved quickly, his powerful frame cutting through the space between them as he stood instantly in front of the guards who tried to block his path. His moves were rapid, an elegant sort of violence as his fury surged.

Then he heard it. It was a harsh, resounding crack fueled by her uncle’s unchecked ire. The sound of the blow echoed through the room, and Thalia’s head snapped to the side as she staggered back, a trickle of blood appearing at the corner of her lip.

Finn’s eyes widened in horror as he saw the blood on Thalia’s lip. His rage reached a boiling point, and his vision blacked. He roared with an intensity that sent vibrations through the room. In an explosive movement, he surged forward, his hands closing around her uncle’s throat with a grip of iron.

The man’s eyes bulged in shock and strained under Finn’s strong hands, tightening around his neck. Finn had killed many men like this in the five-year war, and he thought – What was one more?

Her uncle’s struggle was futile as Finn’s grip remained relentless. In a moment of desperate instinct, he had grabbed Thalia by her hair, yanking her roughly in an attempt to pull her away from Finn and maintain the upper hand.

Cillian took two slow steps toward the scene, his second blade still pointed at the cousin, but he sheathed the other weapon and placed a calm hand on Finn’s shoulder. With a guttural roar, Finn wrenched the Viscount away from Thalia, his strength overwhelming the man’s feeble attempts to resist. He tossed her uncle aside, his face a mask of unrestrained fury. The room was filled with a tense silence as Finn’s rage was evident in every taut muscle and clenched fist.

“Ye are a dead man,” Finn said wildly through his rage as the Viscount scrambled to his feet, his face flushed with a mix of anger and fear. He looked at Finn with a combination of disbelief and hatred, his eyes darting between the Highlander and Thalia. The scene was a chaotic tableau of violence and emotion, and the tension in the room was palpable.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Finn drew his dagger from its sheath, the blade gleaming menacingly in the dim light. He moved with a swift, decisive motion, slicing through the air as he severed her uncle’s hand with a single, precise strike. The Viscount’s scream of agony was a piercing sound that cut through the room, a raw expression of pain and fear.

The man collapsed to the floor, clutching his bleeding stump with a mixture of shock and agony. His screams filled the room as he writhed in pain, and his eyes clamped shut with a mixture of rage and terror. Finally, the son moved to his father’s side, holding the severed hand.