Beauty and the Beastly Highlander by Kenna Kendrick

Chapter Nineteen

Finley’s order to the servants to uncover the windows and let the sunlight pour into the castle was met with a lot of whispering and rumors from everyone, clansmen and women and servants alike. They were all surprised to see the castle so bright after years of darkness, and understandably so, but none of them dared to say anything to Finley.

They still feared him, which was something that he had to fix. He wanted his people’s respect, not their fear, and he was only then beginning to see that he could only change their minds about him by showing them that he, too, had changed.

But that would have to wait. Before he could do anything to change people’s perception of him, he had to deal with the threat of the brigands.

In the days since the attack, the brigands had been the one thing that hadn’t left Finley’s mind for even one moment. The threat was constant, and so he couldn’t afford to be distracted for a single second. Even when he was with Malina, a part of his mind was still occupied by the brigands. And now, sitting in his study with Lochlan across from him, more silent than the man had ever been, it was the only thing that he could think about.

What if they attack again? What happens when I’m na there?

The last time, he had barely survived, and most of his men had been injured, too. The villagers would stand no chance against the brigands on their own, with no one to defend them.

He couldn’t wait for the brigands to attack again. That would only put the villagers at risk, and there was no guarantee that he could catch them. No, he had to actively fight them.

He was certain that there was a traitor among them, who gave the brigands all the information they needed. As much as he hated to think that one of his men could have betrayed him, it was the most logical conclusion and one that he had reached a long time ago. But now, it was time for him to find that traitor. He had let him wreak havoc in his clan for much too long.

“We have information regarding the location of the brigands,” Lochlan said, getting comfortable in his seat. “The spies gave us word that they’re in hidin’, and they say that they’ve found the place.”

It was good news, better than any news Finley had heard in a while. The brigands had evaded them for too long, but now that they had found their hideout, Finley allowed himself to think that perhaps they could finally defeat them.

“And the information has been confirmed?” he asked.

“As confirmed as it can be,” Lochlan said. “But two of our spies say that they saw some of the men with their own eyes, so I trust them. They have na reason to lie.”

Finley wasn’t so certain about that. Who would be better at giving the brigands information than one of their own spies? That was precisely what they were trained for. Finley stayed quiet for a few moments, his gaze jumping back and forth between his brother and the stacks of papers on his desk.

“There must be a traitor, Lochlan,” he told his brother in the end, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. “I ken that ye dinna even want to hear it but—”

“Ye’re right,” Lochlan said, interrupting him. “I didna wish to hear it, but ye were always right. How else would they ken when to attack the village? I’ve been thinkin’ about the verra same thing since it happened, and I canna wrap me head around it all.”

“Aye,” Finley said. “Someone must have informed them that we would be there. They had na other reason to attack when they did.”

“That’s what I thought,” Lochlan said, confirming Finley’s theory. “But I dinna understand . . . who would do such a thing? I ken these men better than anyone. I canna suspect any of them.”

“Weel . . . it’s time that ye do,” Finley said. He knew that it must have been hard for Lochlan to turn against any of those men since he had been working so closely with them for years, but he needed to know that his brother would be on his side, no matter which one of the men turned out to be the traitor.

“I dinna ken what to tell ye, Finley,” Lochlan said, a hand coming up to brush through his hair. “I honestly canna think of anyone who would betray us. We’ve kent those men since we were all bairns. We both ken them. Can ye suspect anyone? I certainly canna.”

“Perhaps one of the younger ones,” Finley suggested. “Surely, ye dinna ken as much about them as ye do about those who grew up with us. Do ye think it could be one of them?”

Lochlan hesitated, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth. “Perhaps,” he said in the end, as he let his hand fall by his side. “There’s na tellin’ who it may be. What do ye want me to do? Should I begin an investigation?”

“Na,” Finley said with a shake of his head. “Na, that willna do anythin’ for morale, and we need as much of it as we can get. We must be discreet about this. We canna let the men ken that we suspect any of them.”

“That willna be easy,” Lochlan said. “Ye ken how it is with the lads. They’re worse than the servant lasses when it comes to rumors. If one of them finds out, then they’ll all ken.”

For a few moments, Finley was silent, contemplating his options. He knew that he couldn’t be direct about it, that he couldn’t approach each and every one of those men and accuse them of being a traitor, not only because he didn’t want to offend any of them, but also because he didn’t want the traitor to know that he was aware of his existence. He had to be subtle to find out who was responsible without alerting anyone to his suspicions.

“We’ll set up a trap,” Finley said after a while, deciding that it was the best they could do under the circumstances. “It isnae the most honest thing to do, and perhaps some of the men will be angry afterward, but it’s the only thing that will work at this point.”

“A trap?” Lochlan asked. “What kind of trap?”

“We ken where they are, correct?” Finley asked though he expected no answer. “So, we’ll tell the men that we will attack. And so, we will. But we’ll give the men a fake plan. Say we tell them we’ll camp here,” he said, pointing with his finger on the map that was spread over his desk. “And attack from the east. If one of the men informs the brigands, we’ll ken. We’ll attack from the south with one group and set up a trap with another. The traitor will lead them straight to the trap.”

For a few moments, Lochlan remained silent, deep in thought as he considered Finley’s plan. “Do ye think that we have enough men for this?” he asked. “Ye hardly trust any of them. Who are we supposed to tell noo?”

“Only those that we trust,” Finley said. “I trust yer judgment, Lochlan. I’m only askin’ ye to keep yer personal feelings out of the way. It could be someone ye think of as a friend, so please, be careful with whom ye share this plan.”

Lochlan gave Finley a slow nod. “Of course,” he said. “Dinna worry. There are some men that I trust implicitly, and they’re the only ones who will ken. Na one else will hear about this plan, I promise ye.”

“We must do this soon,” Finley said. Not only did he want to defeat the brigands as soon as possible, but he also wanted to minimize any chances of the plan leaking to people who shouldn’t know about it.

“How soon?” Lochlan asked.

“We should leave the morrow at first light,” Finley said.

“So soon?”

“It’s better that way. Do ye think that ye can prepare the men in such a short time?”

Lochlan snorted at that, as though the mere thought that his men weren’t already prepared was ridiculous. “Of course,” he said. “But dinna ye think that ye should rest more?”

Finley shook his head. Even though his wounds still ached when he moved, he couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Besides, he was getting restless, spending so much time in a bed, and he wanted nothing more than to be back to normal.

“I canna rest anymore,” he told his brother. “I’ve rested enough. I’m fine, and the men can fight, can they na?”

“They can,” Lochlan confirmed. “But we could delay it for a few days.”

“Na,” Finley said. “We leave the morrow.”

“Verra weel.” With that, Lochlan stood from his chair, heading to the door. “I’ll make sure that everythin’ is prepared, then.”

“Thank ye, Lochlan.”

Once his brother was gone, Finley was plunged one more into his thoughts. He hoped that he had made the right choice, but there would be no way to know until they would actually come face to face with the brigands.

But he was determined to defeat them no matter what. Now that they knew their location, they couldn’t evade his forces for much longer.

With a sigh, Finley stood and headed out of his study. It was still early, and so a part of him was reluctant to seek out Etna, as they hadn’t even put a name to whatever it was that was going on between them, and so he didn’t want anyone else to know. But he would be leaving the following morning, and he wanted to see her, speak to her and say goodbye before he left.

As he walked through the castle corridors, he couldn’t help but notice that the servants were in a brighter mood than he had seen them in a long time—at least until they noticed him. The moment that their gazes fell on him, their smiles fell, and they halted every conversation.

Finley didn’t address it. Eventually, they would begin to smile around him once more, he thought.

He searched for Etna for a while, thinking that perhaps he would manage to stumble into her and not raise any suspicions, but she was nowhere to be found. And so, Finley made his way to her chambers, looking left and right before he knocked on her door to ensure that there was no one around.

The door opened within moments, and when Finley saw Etna, a smile formed on his lips.

“Me Laird,” she said, giving him a small bow, and he could see from the way that her own gaze flitted around the corridor that she was just as cautious as him. “What can I do for ye?”

Without a word, Finley pushed his way inside the room, closing the door behind him.

“I came to see ye,” he said, taking her hand in his own and bringing it to his lips to press a kiss on her knuckles. “I wanted to tell ye that I will be leavin’ at first light.”

The news came as a shock to Etna, who looked at him with wide, fearful eyes. “Where are ye goin’?” she asked. “Finley, ye’re still recoverin’! It’s na a good idea to go anywhere right noo.”

“Ach, I’ll be fine, lass,” Finley assured her, waving a hand dismissively. “Dinna fash yerself. I’m healed, me men are healed, we’ll be fine.”

“So ye’re goin’ to battle?” she asked. “So soon after what happened?”

“Aye,” Finley said. “We must strike as soon as we can. We received information regarding the brigands’ location. I’m takin’ me men there the morrow.”

“But Finley . . .” Etna’s hand came to rest on his shoulder. “After last time . . . what if ye end up dead? What will happen to Malina?”

“I willna,” Finley promised. Of course, there was always a chance that he would, in fact, end up dead, but he didn’t want to think about it, not when he was so close to catching the brigands and exposing the traitor. Fear would do him no good, and the only thing that brought him any actual fear was the thought that his death would leave Malina without any parents. “Trust me, lass. I have a plan. It’s a verra good plan. We’ll be back before ye even notice that we are gone.”

“I verra much doubt that,” Etna said, but she didn’t press the matter any further. “Is that what ye came here to tell me?”

“Aye,” Finley said. “And weel . . . I didna only wish to speak with ye.”

As he spoke, Finley grabbed Etna by the waist, pulling her closer to him. For a moment, he simply gazed at her, enraptured by how beautiful she was. Then, he pressed a soft kiss onto her lips, one that she eagerly returned.

“I see,” Etna said, her voice teasing as her own hands came to rest on his shoulders. “And what else did ye come here for, then?”

Finley was well aware that Etna knew precisely why he had gone to her room, and so he didn’t reply to her. Instead, he began to kiss her jaw and neck, sucking on the sensitive skin below her ear just to hear one of those breathy moans that he loved so much. It took only moments for Etna to become pliant in his arms, sighing and moaning against him as he kissed his way around her neck, dipping lower and lower until his teeth grazed the mounds of her breasts.

His trews were getting tighter with every passing moment, his member hardening at the feel of Etna’s body under his hands. When Etna let her fingers slide down his body, finding their way to his hardness, he took a sharp breath, knees almost buckling under his weight.

He wanted her, and he wanted her right then and there.

Finley captured Etna’s lips in a kiss once more as his hands fumbled with her dress. “Ye dinna ken what ye do to me,” he said, and his voice was already rough with lust, hoarse as though he hadn’t used it in days. He spun her around, hands all but tearing the laces off her corset as he tried to get her naked, letting each piece of garment fall on the floor by their feet.

It wasn’t long before Finley had her breasts freed from the confines of her dress, and he stopped undressing her, content to simply push her against the nearest wall, his lips wrapping tightly around a pebbled nipple. Etna moaned above him, her hand grabbing a fistful of his hair as he nibbled on her flesh.

“Finley . . .” she whispered, sounding just as far gone as he felt. “Please, Finley, I want ye.”

Etna’s hands pawed at his clothes, trying to get him to undress, too. His shirt soon joined the rest of the garments on the floor, and immediately, Etna’s hands were on his skin, burning like fire.

“Let me,” she whispered, her hand dipping to his hardness once more. Only this time, she wasn’t content with touching him over his trews. Instead, she pushed them down to his knees before falling to her own, lips hovering over his manhood.

Finley groaned at the sight of her like that. He was flooded with sensations, Etna’s fingers and lips enveloping him and coaxing sounds out of him that he never knew he could make. He sounded primal, animalistic even to his own ears as he tried to keep his hips still, letting Etna take control.

Her mouth was liquid heat around him, and when Finley looked at her, Etna met his gaze. He loved looking at her, loved seeing her so open and so lost in her own pleasure, and he wanted nothing more than to make her shake and tremble with his own ministrations.

With a gentle hand, Finley pulled Etna up to her feet, crashing their mouths together. He quickly got rid of the rest of her clothes, throwing them aside with not a care, before he pinned her chest-first to the wall, molding his body against her back.

“You may wish to try and remain quiet,” he whispered in her ear. “But I’ll do me best to make ye scream.”