Page 17 of The Son of a Highland Witch
Finn grimaced. The chest he’d been carrying upon his back had taken two men to load onto the coach. It was quite heavy, and he was more than ready to lay it down. Preferably on top of useless lairds and their sons who did not know the proper way to treat a lady.
“He was drunk,” he muttered, dropping the crate with some relief just inside the door.
“What?” Erica rounded on him, eyes narrowed.
Finn straightened and stretched. “The man is deep in his cups, my lady.”
“I am sure ye are mistaken,” Erica said primly, standing with arms akimbo, fists upon her hips as though quite ready to do battle. “I am sure he is merely celebrating the arrival of his wife.”
Trudy rolled her eyes and turned away to show Mattie and Tomas where to put the trunk.
“Word has it Jamie Buchanan enjoys ‘celebrating’ a great deal then. Though ’tis not my place to say,” Finn said, crossing his arms and leaning against the door jamb to wait on the others. It seemed Trudy did not like where the trunk was located, and she wanted it moved to the other side of the room after all. Tomas and Mattie groaned, trying to slide the trunk over without picking it up again. So far as he could see, it had moved the span of his hand.
“Nay, ’tis not. Of course, your opinion of him means nothing to me anyway.”
“Aye, I expect that would be so.”
It really was a shame too. He’d enjoyed riding with her to the crossroads. She had been so free, her laughter had touched something deep within his soul, filling a space he hadn’t known existed. He would do just about anything to hear that laughter again.
Which wasn’t all that likely the way he kept arguing with her, now was it?
Cross with her, with himself, with everyone, Finn pushed off from the door. “If ye will excuse me, my lady,” he said, and sketched a rather mocking bow. Then, without any further word, he strode across the room, picked up the trunk under one arm, and deposited it where Trudy indicated. It thudded down with enough force that the furniture rattled, and the door creaked partway shut.
“Lads…?” He gestured for Tomas and Mattie to follow him out, half expecting Erica to say something as he was leaving. Surely, she would want the final word.
Instead, there was only silence. The good lady had nothing more to say to him, as though to continue the conversation would be beneath her.
It was oddly disappointing and definitely maddening. Especially when he, who never spoke, still had so much to say.
