Unwanted (15 page)

Breaking their eye contact, she cast her gaze to the floor and allowed the guard, Jamie, to shepherd her along with the other ladies to a large door at the side of the stairs.
 

Finn didn’t take his eyes from her until she disappeared.
 

He was released once the heavy door closed behind Jamie, but his weapons were not returned.
 

Not that he expected them to be.

“Regardless of what happens here, I want your word she won’t be harmed,” he insisted.
 
“She had nothing to do with this.”

Connor nodded and crossed his arms over his chest while Roderick stood at the ready, not willing to let his guard down just yet.
 

“I’ll have
yer
name,” the Laird demanded.

“
Fionngall
.”
 

“A Gaelic name.
 
Fionngall
of what?”

Finn’s face tightened as he fought to keep his impassivity.
 
“I have no surname.”
 
 
 

Connor nodded.
 
Luckily for him, the Berserker Laird showed no sign of mocking judgment.
 
No contempt for the bastard who stood before him.
 

Connor locked eyes with Roderick, who cryptically nodded.
 
“Sixty years ago our father left the Highlands in search of the Temple of Freya.”
 
The Laird’s face was grave as he imparted the tale.
 
“He wanted to find out about his ancestors and force the other Berserkers at the temple to induct him into their ranks.”
 

Finn stared at the floor, unable to meet eyes so like his own.

“He returned, three years later, furious that he’d been dubbed
Fionnley
the Black, and denied entrance to the temple because of his impure Gael blood.”

“
Fionnley
?”
 
The evidence mounted, but Finn dared not accept it.
 

“It means Fair-haired warrior,” Roderick explained, his eyes flicking to Finn’s own pale locks.
 

Finn’s notice returned to the portrait, which was almost painful to look at.
 
Connor and Roderick had their mother’s dark coloring.
 

But not him.

“Where is he now?” he asked, emotion threatening to choke him.

“Our father was a violent man drunk on his own power,” Roderick’s voice turned dark and something froze within Finn.
 
“In my twenty and fifth year, he killed our mother when he struck her too hard for displeasing him.
 
Connor relieved him of his head at the same moment I ran him through with my sword.”

“I was told a Berserker cannot harm his mate,” Finn said.

“They
canna
,” Connor answered.
 
“It
wasna
the beast that harmed her, it was the man.”

Finn nodded.
 
Their actions mirrored what his own would have been.
 
He was sorry for their mother.
 
Sorry that their hands were forced to patricide.

Connor motioned toward the heavy door to the great hall.
 
“That woman, she is under the protection of my clan.
 
I can smell
ye
all over her.
 
Has
yer
Berserker claimed her as his mate?”

Finn’s chest tightened.
 
“Nay.”
 
An emptiness
opened up inside of him that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel for many years.
 
He didn’t allow himself to hope for such things, especially not now.

“Then ye
canna
take her back to the temple with ye.”

“She is
mine
,” Finn roared, surprising even himself with the vehemence of his reaction.
 
His blood simmered at the thought of being denied her.
 
His beast brewed with possession and he grappled with his self-control.

Roderick’s hand tightened on his sword, but Connor held a palm up to stop him.

“Why are you here,
Fionngall
?”

Finn closed his eyes, willing the blood pounding through him to settle.
 
The unfairness of it all ate at him.
 
The cruelty of the men to whom he’d devoted his entire being.
 
Surely the Goddess wasn’t so heartless.
 

“The elders of the temple have been watching you.”
 
Finn knew in his heart that from this moment his allegiances had shifted.
 
Once the
MacLauchlans
knew what he was about to impart, his betrayal would be complete.
 
Irrevocable.
 
 
 
“Magnus the Eldest told me something had transpired that spurred the Goddess to call for your blood.
 
I was chosen to spill it.”

Finn noted the violent tension flowing through the brothers.
 
He felt it, himself.
 
“But, you see, they didn’t send me to assassinate you.
 
They knew you were mated, that your power is now more than mine.
 
Than anyone’s.
 
And they told me nothing.”
 
Finn’s voice hardened, his fists cracked before he realized he’d been clenching them.
 

“They sent you to be slaughtered by your own
brothers
.”
 
Connor said what he could not and spat on the earth at his feet.

Roderick’s hand landed on Finn’s shoulder, his gaze earnest.
 
“They failed.
 
None of us will die today.”

Finn shook his head, his whole body trembling with rage.
 
“No.
 
Not today, as it is a holy day for us all.
 
But you don’t understand how much they want you dead.
 
You and your entire household.”
 
He met the intense gaze of Connor, whose eyes sharpened with understanding.
 

“They’ll not be far behind me,” Finn warned.
 
“If they sent me to fail, they’ll come to kill not just us, but the women and small ones as well.”

“Here, I can take him.”
 
Rhona
hovered wringing her hands as Lindsay helped Evelyn into a comfortable chaise situated by the roaring fire in the great hall.
 

“No, it’s perfectly all right.
 
I’m going to have to get used to carrying a little one about with me everywhere, and this wee darling hardly weighs as much as his blanket.”
 
Evelyn patted his bottom and smiled down at Iain who seemed contented to charm the noble lady with soft sighs and tiny sounds.
 

Rhona
noted that the pregnant woman’s accent was very proper English and she couldn’t help but wonder where Roderick had found her.
 

“Sixty and two!”
Lindsay exclaimed.
 
“Did you know we were married to men in their dotage, Evelyn?
 
My husband is old enough to be my father, nay, my
Grand
father!”
 
She motioned to Jamie, who pulled another comfortable chair near to the fire for
Rhona
.
 
His warning glare told her she was still being closely watched.
 

Evelyn just smiled.
 
She struck
Rhona
as the sort that didn’t ruffle easily.
 
Her eyes had the wisdom of one who had seen much hardship, and
Rhona
felt a small and immediate kinship with the woman.
 
“I can’t believe Roderick and I have been mated for nigh on a year and never spoken of it,” she shrugged.
 
“It’s incredible how you can learn something new all the time about your mate.”
 
Her brow wrinkled.
 
“They spoke something of a longer life, but do you truly think we should live so long?
 
That we’ll look so young?”

“I bloody well hope so,” Lindsay muttered.
 
“I’ll be nine kinds of cross if I end up gnarled and wrinkled and Connor still looks like a God of no more than five and thirty.”

Evelyn chuckled at that.

Mated?
 
How oddly they talked of marriage.
 
Rhona
sat where she was told, a cold sort of shock numbing her to her bones.
 
Even the great hall fire, built as high as they stood, couldn’t quell the chill.
 
She could only worry that Finn might, at this moment, have his limbs torn from his body by the dark brutes these women were married to.
 
He might have overwhelmed one, but the both of them were a force unto themselves.
 

Could all this be true?
 
Was he some sort of long-lost Berserker kin?
 
If so, why the violent altercation in the entry?
 
 

“Don’t
fash
yourself about him, dear.”
 
Lindsay put a comforting hand on her arm.
 
“They’ll work it out.”

“Yes,” Evelyn agreed.
 
“I know it’s not his time to die.”

Rhona
wondered at Evelyn’s odd comment, but nodded and tried to summon a smile.
 
She hated that the Lady of the clan was touching her soiled dress.
 
Though she’d brushed and brushed at the soot marring the bodice, she’d been unable to completely hide the stain.
 

Lindsay MacLauchlan’s deep purple dress shimmered like a rare jewel against the faded grey of
Rhona’s
sleeve.
 

“I thank you for your kindness, My Lady.”

“Not at all.”
 
Lindsay reached beside her large chair into a basket of holly sprigs and held out a few along with two spools of ribbon, one red and
one gold
.
 
“Do you mind helping me while we sit?
 
I’m afraid I’m behind on decorations.”

Rhona
took the offerings, grateful for something to do with her hands.
 
The ribbon was fine, finer than anything she had ever owned in her lifetime.
 
Using the skill she’d garnered from her years of dressmaking, she began to wrap the holly sprigs, wondering where in the grand keep they were going to put them.
 
The hall already sparkled with candles, runners, and lush, expensive garlands.

Evelyn rocked Iain, who strained to capture the wheat-colored tendrils framing her pleasant, round face.
 
“Is he your child, then?” she asked.
 
“Pardon me for asking but the midwife who recommended you led me to believe…”

“Finn brought the boy to me last night.”
 
Rhona
saved her from the painful end of her sentence.
 
“He saved the wee thing from a cold death, as he was abandoned to the snow.”

“Oh, how sad!
 
Poor little lamb,” Evelyn cooed at the boy.
 
“How could someone do such a thing?”

“Finn, is that your Berserker’s name?” Lindsay’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.
 

“He’s not my—”

“He is
sinfully
handsome,” the lady remarked with a conspiratorial wink.
 

“Lindsay!” Evelyn laughed.
 

“What?
 
I’m happily mated.
 
I’m not blind.”

Mated.
 
There was that word again.

“He did seem rather protective of you,” Evelyn lifted a fair brow.