Page 82 of A Highland Bride Forgotten
“And yet ye’d kill me.”
“I will kill ye,” said Finlay. “I daenae take it lightly. When I kill ye, it will be with a heavy heart and I…I may as well die here, too. I may as well die here with ye.”
“What are ye sayin’?” River demanded. “Are ye listenin’ to yerself?”
“I have naethin’ to live for!” Finlay roared. “Naethin’! She’s gone and ye…ye were the only reason for me to live. And now ye have betrayed her, River, so ye must die.”
“Ye’re mad,” River said, drawing in a shaky breath that pained her lungs.
“Perhaps,” Finlay said. “But it’s better than bein’ a traitor.”
“I’m nae a traitor, Finlay!” River shouted. “Me maither, she had to be stopped! Do ye think I didnae love her? Do ye think her death didnae pain me? But what she did pained me more!”
“Ye care more about the people who hurt her than ye care about yer own maither!” Finlay said, and for a moment, it was as ifRiver was listening to her own mother. She had affected him greatly; she had invaded and infected every part of his mind, and now Finlay was prepared to do anything in her memory; in her honor.
“I care about what’s right!” River said, and she was glad, at least, that her plan to distract and delay Finlay seemed to be working. She had to keep him talking; she had to keep asking him questions until help got there. “Why did ye nae kill Archer, then, when me maither died? Why wait so long?”
“They would have suspected ye,” Finlay pointed out. “Had I killed him back then, everyone would think it was ye. Who else would have done it, River? Think! Everyone would blame ye and me for his death.”
“Why do ye care?” River asked. “Ye seem prepared to die.”
“Now, aye,” said Finlay. “But then, I had to protect ye. I had to continue to keep ye safe, especially if Archer was dead. I couldnae leave ye to the mercy of this clan.”
This clan would have been far more merciful to me than ye could ever be.
“But when I had the chance, I struck,” Finlay said. “I was unlucky. The Laird caught me at the last moment and he survived, but I would have killed the bastard. I would have killed him right then and there and now nae of this would be happenin’!”
River couldn’t fight the urge anymore. She was outraged, fury coursing through her and finally spilling over, and she hit him again. This time, the slap landed, but Finlay grabbed her arm once more and, with a grimace of disgust and hatred, shoved her back, forcing her to fall on the floor.
Her back collided with the hard wood, knocking her breath out of her; she didn’t have much left of it anyway, not with the fire burning everything in its path in her chambers. The air settled heavy around her, inside her, choking her, making her dizzy. And as she tried to stand, Finlay opened the door, bringing in a breath of fresh air.
Was that it, she wondered? Was he showing mercy? Was he letting her go?
“Be like that, then,” he said. “Be ungrateful. Die alone for all I care.”
And with that, before River could grab him or even plead with him to let her go, if not for her sake then for her child’s, Finlay was gone.
And the lock turned behind him, trapping her inside the burning room, with nothing but the ignited air in her lungs and Layla’s sleeping, bleeding form laying next to her.
29
Archer shot up in bed, his hand instinctively reaching for the weapon he kept near him at all times now. His hand was around the hilt of the dagger before he had even properly opened his eyes, but it took him a few moments to realize that whatever had woken him was not in the room.
There were voices—a commotion. Outside his chambers, people were screaming and footsteps echoed all around him.
Heart hammering, Archer rushed to the window to look outside, only to find no signs of an attack. That had been his first concern once he realized he was alone in the room, that an enemy had decided to attack out of the blue, with no warning from their side or from his scouts.
But even though there was activity in the courtyard below, there was nothing to suggest they were under siege, so whatever had happened had to have happened from within.
In seconds, he was out of bed and pulling a tunic over his head to rush out into the corridor. There, guards passed by him, followed by servants, all of them confused as they shouted intelligibly at each other.
Soon, Keir found him, grabbing his shoulders and coming to a sudden halt just as he was about to rush by. Archer was relieved to see him; if anyone knew hat was going on, it would be Keir.
“What’s happenin’?” Archer asked. “What’s wrong?”
“There is a fire,” said Keir. “In the east wing.”
Archer’s blood drained from his face and his dagger clattered to the floor, falling from his hand. Bile rose to the back of her throat, his heart shattering to a million pieces.
