Beauty and the Beastly Highlander by Kenna Kendrick
Chapter Seventeen
Finley didn’t know whether to curse or to thank his luck. On the one hand, his wounds meant that he could hardly get out of bed, his entire body aching with the effort every time that he tried to stand up. On the other hand, they had brought him and Etna closer, so close, in fact, that they had shared a night together.
And it had been a night that Finley doubted he would ever forget. The way Etna had moved against him, the way their bodies fit together like they were always meant to be one, her lips, her hands. It was all etched into his memory, and it replayed over and over in his mind.
But it was more than that. Sharing his pain with her was what had changed the most for Finley. After confessing what he had done, it was suddenly easier to breathe, even to simply exist, as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Though the memory of Anna still pained him, knowing that Etna didn’t blame him for what he had done was a small mercy, one that he welcomed with open arms.
He had never managed to tell that story to anyone before. Only Arlene had heard some of it, but Finley had never told her the entire story. His own grief and the certainty that whoever heard the truth would immediately despise him had forced him to keep his lips sealed for years, hiding away from the world to conceal his shame and his guilt.
But now, the very sun seemed brighter to him. He hadn’t been so cheerful in years, and it was strange to feel so light again, so unburdened and optimistic. His room, which he usually kept dark, was now filled with the morning sun after he had a servant open the curtains, and for the first time in a while, he could appreciate it, and he didn’t have the urge to withdraw back to the shadows.
“Ye seem to be in a good mood.”
The familiar voice came from the door, and Finley turned to see Lochlan standing there, watching him with an amused smile on his face. Finley could only shrug in reply, not knowing how to explain his sudden transformation to his brother. He barely understood it himself, and he was just as surprised as Lochlan that Etna had had such an effect on him.
“How are ye feelin’?” Lochlan asked as he stepped inside Finley’s chambers, pulling a chair closer to his bed before sitting down. “Ye look better today.”
“Aye, I feel better,” Finley confirmed. In the past few days, ever since they had returned to the castle, he had been healing well, though the healer had warned him that it would take him a while to get back to normal. He still had a long road ahead of him, but at least he wasn’t in any danger of dying anymore. “What about the others? How are the lads doin’? Did ye hear from the village?”
“Everyone is fine,” Lochlan said. “Dinna worry. The village is fine, too. They’re rebuildin’ what was destroyed in the fire, and the few who were injured are healin’ weel.”
Finley let out a sigh of relief. He had been waiting to hear news about the village for days, and the thought that his people were suffering was keeping him up at night. Knowing that his men were also healing did its part in reassuring him, too.
“So . . . how come ye’re like . . . this?” Lochlan asked.
Subtle as always, me brother.
“I dinna ken what ye mean,” Finley said, though he knew very well. He also knew, though, that if he didn’t readily offer any information, Lochlan wouldn’t push him to say more, and he used that knowledge to his advantage. He didn’t want to talk about what had happened between him and Etna, not quite yet. A part of him thought that it was all too good to be true, and so he didn’t want to risk telling Lochlan about it in case none of it would last. Though he didn’t fail to see how paranoid that made him, it wouldn’t be the first time that something seemingly great would go wrong for him.
As Finley expected, Lochlan didn’t pursue the issue. Instead, he said, “Weel, whatever it is, it’s makin’ grandmaither happy, too. It’s nice to have ye back, Finley.”
Finley could do little other than nod, the sincerity and the openness with which Lochlan had spoken those words moving him. He had never considered how much he and their grandmother would miss his old self and how much they would want him to return to how he used to be before Anna’s death. He had been selfish, so selfish that he had never taken a moment to think about them in all those years. But still, neither of them had given up on him, and Finley was grateful for that. He only needed to make it up to them, to show them that he regretted everything.
Before Lochlan could say anything else, there was a knock on the door, and Etna entered hesitantly, perhaps having heard Lochlan’s voice. But Lochlan was quick to usher her in.
“Come, Etna,” he told her as he stood from the chair. “I must take me leave anyway. I should visit the men, see how they’re doin’.”
As he left, Lochlan gave Finley a wink, and it was then that he realized that his brother knew much more than he let on. At least he had kept quiet about it, and he hadn’t nagged him, Finley thought.
When Lochlan was gone, Etna took his place on the chair. Finley reached for her hand, holding it in his own and bringing it to his lips to press a kiss on her knuckles.
“I’m glad ye came,” he said, just as he told her every time she came into his room. He was always glad to see her, always eager to have her by his side.
“Ye say that every time,” Etna pointed out with a smile. “I come visit ye every day, Finley.”
“Aye, and every day I’m glad,” he said.
Etna was like a breath of fresh air every time that he saw her. Those green eyes of hers drew Finley in, and he could never resist their pull. She looked so beautiful, framed by the morning light in his room, and he had half a mind to pull her on top of him and have his way with her, but his wounds still ached.
For a few moments, Etna remained quiet, but Finley could see that there was something she wanted to say to him. He waited, looking at her expectantly, until Etna took a deep breath, preparing to speak.
“Ye need to see Malina,” she said.
With a sigh, Finley let her hand go, and his head fall back against the headboard. He had feared that the day would come when Etna would try to force him to see Malina, but he hadn’t expected that day would come so soon.
“Etna, I . . . I canna,” he said. “How will I face her? After everythin’, I told ye? After what I did?”
“I’ve already told ye that Malina loves ye, Finley,” Etna said. “There’s na doubt about that in me mind. Ye should hear how she speaks about ye . . . always so eager to defend ye. She wants nothin’ more than to have ye in her life.”
“I canna,” Finely insisted, shaking his head vehemently. It all sounded good in theory, but he knew that the moment he would lay his eyes upon her, the memories would rush back to him, and he wouldn’t be able to hold it together. Anna’s ghost still lingered over him after all those years and being around Malina only worsened his guilt. He didn’t want her to see him in that state. He didn’t want her to remember him like that.
“Ye must.” Etna’s voice was firm, almost cold, and she reached for Finley’s hand once more, lacing their fingers together. “Ye have a duty as her faither. Ye have a responsibility. Ye’ve already caused her enough anguish, Finley.”
Finley knew that Malina missed him and that she wanted him to be more involved in her upbringing. He wanted the very same thing, but he feared that his presence in her life would only end up hurting her more.
Isna it better to grow up without a faither than to grow up with a faither who killed her maither? I took anna away from her. I’ve already caused her so much pain.
“It’s better for her to na ken who her faither is,” Finley insisted. “One day, she’ll ken the truth. It canna stay hidden forever.”
“One day, perhaps,” Etna said. “But I’m sure that even if she finds out, she’ll forgive ye. What ye did wasna yer fault. Ye only acted to save yer life.”
“That doesna make it any better,” Finley said. “I have wished so many times that I could change what happened just so that Malina wouldna have to grow up without a maither.”
“So why are ye forcin’ her to grow up without a faither, too?”
Finley closed his eyes, bringing his free hand to his nose and pinching the bridge with a sigh. He couldn’t argue with Etna’s logic, no matter how much he wished he could.
“I suppose that’s why I have ye writin’ me speeches,” he said, drawing a laugh out of Etna.
Would it really be so bad if I saw her? Would she truly hate me?
There was only one way to find out, Finley decided. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll see her. Ye’re right, lass, I shouldna take away the only parent that she has left.”
The satisfied look on Etna’s face was enough to make him wince as he thought about everything that could go wrong with that meeting. Malina could hate him. She could be scared of him and the scar that ran down his face. Perhaps she wouldn’t even remember him at all.
Finley didn’t know which one of those prospects scared him the most.
“Weel?” Etna asked, looking at him expectantly. “Get up, then.”
“What?” Finley asked, blinking in confusion.
“Get up,” Etna repeated as she stood, placing her hands on her hips and tapping her foot impatiently against the floor. “Ye’re goin’ to see her.”
“Noo?”
“Aye, noo,” Etna said. “When else? Why would ye delay it any further?”
The mere thought of meeting Malina right then had cold sweat dripping down Finley’s back. It was too sudden, too soon, and he didn’t even know what he should say to her. His stomach twisted into a knot, and suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to retreat back to the shadows, where it was comfortable and familiar.
But that was what had gotten him there in the first place, he reminded himself. There was no use trying to hide anymore. Etna would find him wherever he would hide, and she would drag him out, no matter what it took.
And Finley was grateful for that.
“I ken that ye can do it,” she said, her tone softening. “I do. Come noo . . . it’s time.”
Etna’s words gave Finley the courage that he needed to stand, though he did so slowly, his entire body protesting at the movements. Etna helped him dress, and by the time they were out of the door, his heart was hammering in his chest, threatening to rip its way out of his ribcage.
He hadn’t talked to Malina when she was awake since the incident. Whenever he visited her, he made sure that it was late at night when she and everyone else were asleep, and he only ever stayed in her room long enough to tell her that he loved her. But now, everything would be different. Malina would look at him, and Finley would have to find the words to tell her how sorry he was, something that he deemed impossible.
No words were enough, and he knew that. Whatever he could tell her would be too little.
Etna led him through the castle, one arm around his shoulders to assist him as they walked. When they made it to the library, Finley hesitated in front of the door, his hand hovering over the doorknob.
“Go on,” Etna urged him. “She’s waitin’ for her faither.”
With a decisive nod, Finley opened the door to the library. The first thing he saw was Malina, sitting in an armchair with a book in her lap, and his heart skipped a beat, his breath catching in his throat.
And then she smiled at him, a beautiful, brilliant smile that melted Finley’s heart.
