Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Claire sat alone at the small desk in her bedchamber, as she dipped her quill into the dark ink. She didn't want to think about the dizzying warmth that had pooled in her belly during the dance last night, nor the heavy, electric jolt of Finn’s palm on her waist.
With a sharp exhale, she began:
Dearest Leo,
I pray this letter reaches ye swiftly and in total secrecy. A terrible storm drove me carriage into a ditch, and we were set upon by raiders in the low pass. But ye must nae panic, nor must ye march yer vanguard south. I am safe and undamaged. I was extracted from the glen by Laird Finn MacRae.
He hit the raiders and brought me behind the walls of Rosewood Castle. However, to protect us both from political ruin and the immediate scandal, we have entered into a false arrangement. We have told his council that we are betrothed. It is a ruse, Leo. A temporary shield to buy us time.
The MacRae Laird is an overbearing, arrogant barbarian, but he carries a fierce duty to his people. Daenae launch an assault. I shall soon find me way to ye.
Claire blew softly on the wet ink and folded the parchment. She held the stick of crimson wax over the small flame of the candle and watched as it fell on the seam of her letter. She slipped her mother’s ring from her finger and pressed the MacSween crest firmly into the wax.
"Fascinating."
Claire leaped out of her chair, her hand flying to her throat as the quill rattled against the wood.
She hadn't heard the door open. But there he was, towering over her desk. Finn stood entirely too close, blocking out the light from the window. He was wearing a dark leather doublet, his black hair wild and wind-blown.
His emerald eyes were fixed on the letter in her hand, unblinking and dangerous.
"In London, Laird MacRae, we use the door knocker!" Claire hissed, her gray eyes flashing with fright and fury. "Or do ye make it a habit to creep into a lady's private quarters like a thief in the night?"
"In the Highlands, Lady Claire, me guests daenae usually smuggle secret correspondence to rival clans behind me back," Finn rumbled.
"It isnae secret!" Claire shot back, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. She refused to take a step back, even though the raw, masculine scent of pine woodsmoke and leather on him was making her head spin. "It is a letter to me cousin, Leo MacSween.”
"Give it to me," Finn commanded, extending a calloused hand.
"Nay!" Claire pressed her back against the edge of the desk, her fingers tightening over the letter. "Ye have nay right to read me private thoughts, ye overbearing brute."
Finn didn't argue. He simply closed the remaining distance, wrapping his hand around her wrist. His grip was controlled, but not harmful. Claire gasped, her breath catching in her throat. He drew her arm from behind her back, forcing the letter between them.
Being this close to him was torturous. She could see the faint scar along his chiseled jaw. Her lips parted as her body betrayed her mind, flaring with a sudden pulse of heat.
"Let me go, Finn," she whispered, her voice losing its edge, turning soft.
Finn’s gaze dropped to her lips as his thumb traced a slow circle against her inner wrist. "Ye told him," Finn murmured, his voice dropping. "Ye told MacSween everything."
"Of course I told him!" Claire cried, using the anger to mask the way her body wanted to lean into him. "He is me family! What are ye trying to do, Finn? Are ye trying to isolate me from everyone I trust? Am I a prisoner here after all?"
"Ye are me betrothed!" Finn rumbled back. "If Leo MacSween marches his vanguard through me western passes because his little cousin sent a frantic letter, it willnae be a scandal, Claire; it will be a bloody war! Ye should seek them after this arrangement is dissolved!"
"I am nae frantic!" Claire shrieked, her face inches from his, her gray eyes burning with gray fire.
"I told him the truth! I told him I am safe!
I told him it is temporary! If ye think I am going to sit in this castle and let yer councilmen force a wedding ceremony without me family knowing, ye are mad! "
They stared at each other, their breath coming in gasps. The push-pull dynamic between them was so taut it felt as though the room itself might shatter from the tension.
Finn stared down at her, tracing the wild curls framing her face. Slowly, he reached down and took the parchment from her.
Claire let out a defeated cry, but Finn didn't break the seal. He held the letter, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Douglas!" Finn barked toward the open doorway.
Douglas was at the threshold a second later, eyebrows rising as he took in the sight of his Laird and Lady. "Aye, Finn?”
"Take this," Finn ordered, throwing the letter toward Douglas. "Get me the fastest rider. Tell him to ride north through the low pass, and if he stops before he hits MacSween territory, I’ll have his boots for stirrups. Deliver it personally to the Laird."
Douglas caught the parchment. "To Leo MacSween? Finn, if the council sees a rider going north—"
"Let them look!" Finn growled, his gaze still locked onto Claire’s face. "Move yer boots, Douglas."
"Aye, me Laird," Douglas muttered, as he disappeared down the corridor.
Finn released Claire’s wrist, though he didn't leave her space. Claire’s heart pounded frantically as she looked up at him.
"Why did ye do that?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Ye said it would cause a war."
"Because ye are a terrible liar when ye are frightened, lass," Finn said softly.
"And if ye feel like a prisoner in me home, I have already failed me clan.
But understand this, Claire... if MacSween comes to Rosewood with his swords drawn, I will face him.
And I willnae let him take ye back until our three weeks are done. "