“How was your visit?” Finlay finally asked, resuming his raking of Hurley’s stall. Others would offer to care for him, but Finlay insisted on doing any work near his finicky horse himself.
“Fine, thanks,” Kyla responded, before walking Cadarn to her stall.
“It was quite interesting,” said Peggy, coming around the corner, unable to keep herself away from the conversation.
“Oh?”
“Why yes,” Peggy said with a wide smile. “Rory was there, and had quite the tales of London and Glasgow. They have hired women from the village to do the household work that Kyla used to do. However, did you know Finlay, that Kyla kept all of the ledgers of not only the house but the management for all of their lands? And now, Kyla’s father canna make any sense of it at all. Kyla had to show him everything once again, and Rory refused to even pay attention. And—”
“Peggy!” Kyla rounded the corner in time to put a halt to the remainder of Peggy’s tale. “I dinna think you’ve quite captured what happened. Really, Father just needed a bit of a reminder.”
“A reminder? Kyla, ye ran everything over there! Why did no one say so?”
“I wouldn’t say I ran everything, I just made notes, kept the books, that sort of thing,” she said, self-consciousness creeping over her as Finlay stared at her.
“Is this why you’re so keen to instill your ideas here? To turn the McDougall holdings into that of the MacTavishes? I knew you were part of things over there, but didn’t know it was all your doing,” Finlay said, placing one of his hands on his hip, the other still on the rake. “’Tis interesting Niall left the management of his lands to a woman.”
“First of all, Finlay McDougall, a woman is perfectly capable of managing property if she so chooses,” Kyla responded, glaring at him in indignation. How dare he say such things? He knew nothing of what they had done. “However, for the record, my father made the decisions. I simply recorded them and provided advice, which he sometimes listened to. Other times he did things of his own choosing. Listening, though, Finlay, is something you could use a lot of work on.”
With that, she turned on her heel and returned to the house, noting that Peggy followed her with a smug glance backward at her older brother.
What was it with Finlay McDougall? Every time they made any progress in becoming closer, he took two steps backward, as though he wanted them to fail.
Which was fine, for she would be happy to be gone in two months… wouldn’t she?
10
Kyla spent the next day truly exploring the McDougall lands. While she had been busy with the household ledgers, she had managed a look at the overall balances of the business side of the McDougall land holdings and agriculture. It was a rather dismal outlook. The McDougalls had some sheep, but not enough to truly be profitable. They were too spread out in various areas of the land. Were they closer together, they could be more efficiently cared for.
It was the same with the fields of potatoes and other crops. They were not being grown in the land best suited for each of them. Looking at the maps, she could discern which areas they might be better positioned.
Not that she had superior knowledge to anyone else. She was sure the McDougalls knew just as well as she did what the best land use was. However, they still followed the old ways, which was to have various clansmen farm the same areas they always had, choosing what to do with the land allotted to them. Which was fine, but perhaps they could initiate a system in which they could better work together.
It was what she had always wanted to do on the MacTavish lands, but her father hadn’t listened. He had moved the clansmen, pitting them against one another and himself rather than convincing them to work together.
Today, she decided she was interested in seeing for herself what the land looked like. She had seen it all before, but never through this lens. She also needed out of the house, to take the chance to explore some. Household tasks, while necessary, were certainly not where her true passions lay.
She saddled Cadarn and took off on her own, not interested in any company today. She raced her mare over the fields and through the trees, the chilly winds rustling through her hair and clothing, chapping her cheeks. The air was fresh, however, the freedom of the outdoors calling to her and reviving her spirit. The sun shone down through the changing colors of the leaves, and the beauty around her was captivating.
She reined Cadarn in as she came upon the first field she had wanted to review. It was as she had thought, the rolling green hills pasturing the sheep leading down to fields below it. She continued on, calling a hello to anyone she met along her way. She wouldn’t be able to see all the lands in one day, but she was able to do a fairly scenic and educational tour. On her return, she stopped to visit with the women she had met only a short while ago. If she was to be the lady of this clan, she wanted the people to know she was as much one of them as any of the other McDougalls.
When she returned to Galbury, she found Finlay apparently waiting for her in the great hall.
“Kyla,” he greeted her with a nod. “You were out venturing around the McDougall lands today?”
“I was,” she said cautiously.
“I would have escorted you if you had only told me.”
“Oh, thank you,” she replied, relieved her visit hadn’t turned into an argument with him. “I felt like going out on my own today, though. Your land really is beautiful, Finlay. In fact, can I show you something? Inside?”
He nodded his assent, and then followed her in. She led him to the library, and pulled out maps of the holdings she had crudely drawn earlier.
“Please… let me finish speaking before you say anything. Can you do that?”
He eyed her cryptically but nodded his assent.
“I have some thoughts,” she said, before using her finger to show him where she thought some of the lands could be re-purposed. “It’s an idea…and the crofters will not be moved to any worse or non-arable lands, but could choose to take on the new crops, or move to farm and care for another crop elsewhere. Those currently making more of a living fishing or kelping can retain their homes near the coastline.”
She looked up at him, at his crossed arms and his stoic face looking down at her and the maps. His expression was entirely unreadable and she was unable to discern what he was thinking. It was one thing about Finlay that had always unnerved her. Yes, when he was angry, he certainly made it known, but otherwise he always seemed to wear the same guarded expression.
“Is this what you did in your own lands?” he finally asked.
“Somewhat,” she said, relieved and somewhat hopeful when his first word about it wasn’t a no. “I presented a plan to my father. He took it, but he didn’t give the crofters any choice. He moved them to inhabitable lands instead, not allowing them homes on the land they were to care for. Many chose to leave.”
“Kyla,” he said slowly, and she could tell he was attempting patience. Perhaps her relief had come too soon. “I appreciate what you are trying to do, and I thank you for your interest in the business of our clan. However, there are three of us, in addition to my father, who are capable of looking after everything. We do not need your help in this.”
“Is this not why our clans united? What our marriage was for?” she asked, exasperated. “I’m sorry, Finlay, but you cannot go on as you are. I looked at the numbers, and you continue to move deeper into debt. Your system is not working.”
“And yours is?”
“I just told you that my father—”
Finlay’s calm demeanor broke. “Your father is a selfish bastard out for himself, while your brother is a lazy ass who seems to want nothing more than to see the entire MacTavish holdings go to ruin and be used for rich Lowlanders to hunt game and gawk at us barbarians. I’m not sure I even want to help your clan survive—you’re the only good that’s come of it!”
“You may be my husband, but you will not speak about my family that way,” she said, her anger growing.
; “Kyla, you know it to be true.”
“It doesn’t matter how much truth there is to what you say. No woman—no person—wants to hear loved ones spoken of as such. Apologize.”
“I will not unspeak the truth.”
“Apologize. Now.” Her hands involuntarily clenched into fists at her side.
“If you had listened, you would realize, I was actually complimenting you,” he said, and she could only stare at him incredulously.
“You are a foolish, arrogant, man, Finlay McDougall,” she finally sputtered out. “Have you no feelings for others around you?”
His face turned dark.
“Listen, Kyla, I know you wanted someone else. I’m sure someone like Callum would have been much easier for you to live with. Callum was the chosen son… of my father, my mother, and you as well. I’m sorry that it was me you were left with, a man without the charm, the wit, and the emotions. But Callum’s gone, far across the ocean. And I’m who remains for you…the shadow of the man my brother is, who should not be the one soon to be responsible for the clan, and married to you. If I could change it for you, I would. But it’s not within my power, and therefore, you will have to make do with me. Someone who speaks the truth, and plainly.”
She could only stare at him, his words causing a whirl of emotions to course through her. It was likely the most he had ever said—to her, or to anyone, as far as she knew—at one time. His soliloquy had also imparted a great deal of information. As self-assured as he always seemed to be, it seemed he actually did not think much of himself or his abilities. It was a vulnerable side he had kept carefully hidden in the past, never allowing to emerge. Her anger, though still burning below the surface, somewhat dissipated by his admission.
“Finlay,” she said carefully, stepping closer to him. “Callum would never have stayed overseas had he not thought you completely capable of running everything here. You have always loved this place, and have taken total responsibility for it. Do you not remember when you were a boy, the rest of us would be chasing one another around the hills while you were already so dedicated to your work on the farm and the land? Ye’ve done more for your family and your people than Callum ever has.”
When he looked down at her, she got lost for a moment in his dark, intense gaze. Emotion churned within his eyes and Kyla could sense that her words had been what he needed to hear, having apparently cut through his anger and taking root.
“Thank you,” he said gruffly, clearing his throat and swinging his head away from her. “’Tis a nice thing for you to say. And I am sorry for insulting yer family. Had you said the same of mine well… I may not have been quite as forgiving.”
“I only speak the truth, as you say you do,” she said, her words quiet but firm. “However, if ye ever insult my father and brother again, I shall have to fight you for the honor of my family.”
“Fight me?”
“Aye.”
“I dare say I could win any physical contest with you.”
Her cheeks warmed at his words. “I have learned a thing or two over the years,” she said flippantly.
“Really?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Truly.”
“I don’t believe you could ever fight me, Kyla.”
“I’ll prove it to you. Come here.”
“Kyla, I’m not—”
“Fine. I’ll come to you.”
She stepped in front of him, facing him, and then lifted his arms and placed his hands on her waist, causing a muscle in his cheek to jump. Belatedly, Kyla realized that this was a rather foolish idea, but she wasn’t going to admit it and back away now. She tried to ignore the heat rising to her face from his closeness.
“Grip me tight,” she said, and as he did so, she took him off guard, flipping her arms underneath his, jerking them around and back to break his hold.
“You see?” she said to him with a smile. “Now, from the back.”
She turned around and he slid his arms around her body, crossing them in front of her.
“Like this?”
“Umm, I suppose.” She stood for a beat, reveling in his warmth and the strong planes of his chest that lined the back of her body. She closed her eyes, enjoying the moment before she told herself not to get too comfortable. She took a breath before stepping down on his big toe with all of her might, turning, planting a kick to his shin, and taking a step away. He gave a shout, whether in surprise or pain she wasn’t sure.
“Who the devil taught you all of this?” he asked, a wince remaining on his face.
“Gracin,” she responded, walking back toward him. “He was the stable boy. I spent quite a bit of time out there with him while caring for Cadarn. He was happy to teach me.”
“I’m sure he was,” said Finlay, gruffly.
As she returned to him, he stretched out an arm, grabbing her by the wrist.
“Kyla, come here,” he said, slowly pulling her toward him.
She resisted at first, but then met his gaze and the intensity of his eyes drew her to him until they were but a breath away from one another.
His lips met hers, not hard and passionate like the first time they had kissed, but this time soft and inviting. As he kissed her, his hands roamed over her back and tugged her closer to him, her body seeming to perfectly meld with his as she sank into him. He was so contrary, so hard and unrelenting, that Kyla knew she should push away and not allow herself to give in with any emotion… but she wasn’t strong enough to resist him.
He kissed her deeper, his tongue teasing at her lips before entering her mouth and slowly beginning to explore. It was a long, languishing kiss, one which promised more to come. When Finlay finally pulled away, he smiled at her, one of the first true smiles she had ever seen from him.
With that, he stood, turned, and left the room, leaving her there alone with desire simmering deep in her belly. She was, at first, annoyed that he would simply leave after such a kiss, but then she realized that he was leaving the invitation open to her to come closer.
It wasn’t until some time later, when Kyla was still staring out the door after Finlay as she tried to assess how she felt for him, that she realized he had never acknowledged or accepted any of her thoughts or suggestions, which was the entire reason she had asked him to come with her to the library.
The turbulent storm of her emotions through their encounter had completely turned her brain to mud, and for that she threw her hands in the air, completely disgusted with herself.
She’d like to damn Finlay McDougall for what he did to her.
But the truth was, she had only herself to blame.
11
Kyla had appreciated the view out the window of her bedroom since she arrived at Galbury Castle. While the north-facing rooms looked out onto the green hillsides, her window faced south, down the rolling hill to Loch Ness below. It was how she had seen Finlay enter the water on that cool day, and the sounds of the waves rolling into shore that floated through her window washed peace over her.
Today, however, she saw another view entirely.
The courtyard extended past her window. The stone fence, which kept out warring clans in days past, today held in some of the animals as they roamed the yard. Peggy had told her that her brothers were going to spend the day fixing the fence, and were now at the portion right below. Kyla had returned to her room at midday to change into attire more appropriate for riding, and movement out her window caught her eye.
The sun shone down on the three of them—Roderick, Adam, and Finlay. Due to the exertion of their work they had stripped bare, with the exception of their short kilts. They were all solidly built, with strong, sinewy muscles. Adam and Roderick were nothing to overlook, but it wasn’t until her gaze turned to Finlay that her heart started to beat wildly. She didn’t know what it was about the ornery man, but despite her misgivings of some of his traits, physically she had never seen better. Unseen up here alone, she drank in her fill of the view. His biceps flexed as he swung his pick, and the plan
es of the tanned skin on his chest were highlighted by the sun glinting off the sweat.
He was a Highland Laird of the past come to life, and she felt like a traitor to her rational mind as her body yearned to feel his arms around her once again.
She jolted at the knock on her door and heat rushed through her at being caught. She took a moment to compose herself before crossing the room to open the door, finding Peggy on the other side.
“Are ye ready for our ride?”
“Nearly,” Kyla said, turning for a moment and fastening the top of the plaid.
Peggy was determined to work on her skills on a horse. Her brothers had taught her in their own way, but Kyla knew more than just how to ride—she bonded with her horse and they truly became one. Kyla wasn’t sure how to teach that, but she was happy to show Peggy what she could.
“Are you ready, Kyla?” Peggy asked again, and Kyla realized she hadn’t moved in a few moments, still lost in her thoughts. She responded with more enthusiasm than she had initially meant.
“Absolutely!”
“Your cheeks are quite flushed,” Peggy said, peering at her quizzically. “Are you all right?”
“Never better. Let’s go.”
Peggy was becoming more confident on her horse, Kyla thought to herself. It was a step forward, although many times it was a matter of simply finding the right horse. You had to make the right match—like a marriage, she supposed. A love marriage, that was.
Kyla didn’t see Finlay again until that evening when the family sat down for supper. As she took her place beside him, he gave her a slight smile and nodded his head, more of a greeting than was usual for him.
Kyla caught Jane’s smile at her. Peggy told her that her mother had great hopes that their marriage could become something more than it currently was, but Kyla still wasn’t so sure. She knew Jane wanted to see her children happy, but at some point, Finlay had to make the decision himself—to trust her, to open up to her, to show her that there was more there besides the ornery front he provided everyone.
Finlay's Duty: A Scottish Victorian Romance (The Victorian Highlanders Book 2) Page 8