by Bree Wolf
But she was more than willing to find out.
“Emma?”
At the sound of Maggie’s voice echoing down the corridor toward them, Emma and Finn stumbled apart as though burnt. For a long second, they stared at one another as the magic of the previous moment faded away and reality caught up with them. Neither one of them knew what to say, and before Emma’s mind could form a clear thought, Finn stepped away toward the door.
“Emma? Where are ye?”
Finn’s eyes were full of things unsaid, and although Emma wished he would stay, she knew that the moment they had shared with each other had not settled things. In fact, Emma felt as unbalanced as never before, and she could see the same confusion on Finn’s face as he stepped through the door and into the cold.
Chapter Seven
Subtle Signs of Love
Carrying yet another armload of freshly-cut evergreen branches, Emma was lost in thought as she walked back to the great hall with Maggie by her side. Her lips still tingled from Finn’s kiss, and rather begrudgingly, she had to admit that it had felt utterly overwhelming, a far cry from the soft peck she had given Finn all those years ago.
Was that why he had thought her unfeeling? Because she had lacked the ability to kiss him with such finesse? Was that why he had doubted her? Had his kiss today changed anything between them? Did he have any intentions towards her? After all, he had been relieved to hear that Vaughn had never kissed her. And had he not said he needed to know if she intended to marry Vaughn?
Had he not looked utterly jealous?
Emma’s heart skipped a beat as hope once more surged forward, tickling the corners of her mouth and willing a smile onto her face that felt all the more overwhelming as it had been absent these past few years.
“Something happened,” Maggie observed, her eyes narrowed as she watched Emma. “Tell me.”
Swallowing, Emma turned to look at her friend. “I dunno know what ye mean,” she mumbled, uncertain how to put into words the many contradicting emotions that lived in her heart.
Maggie chuckled, “’Tis Finn, isn’t it?” Her eyes narrowed even further as though she could truly read Emma’s thoughts. “What happened? Did he…did he kiss ye?” She glanced over her shoulder, back down the way they had come. “Just now? Was that why ye were gone for so long?”
Gritting her teeth, Emma felt heat rise to her cheeks, and mortified, she closed her eyes.
Maggie laughed, putting a gentle hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Don’t be embarrassed. I’m so happy for ye.” Eagerness stood on her face. “How did it happen? Tell me everything.”
Setting down the branches, Emma shook her head, her thoughts still running rampant as though she had no control over them. “How did ye know?” she asked in return, trying to distract Maggie from asking more questions Emma did not know how to answer.
A deep sigh full of longing and…remembrance left Maggie’s lips. “Love is impossible to hide,” she whispered, “at least from those not affected by it.” Gently, she squeezed Emma’s hand. “I can see it in ye and Finn because my heart isna burdened by doubt and fear. Ye may try to hide how ye feel, but those attempts make the truth even more obvious.”
Emma nodded, wondering how she could ever have thought that Finn did not care for her. Now, it seemed only too obvious that there was something between them, that there had always been something between them. Why else would he have been so angry with her for so long? Still, a small part of Emma did not dare believe her own conclusions to be true. Maggie was right. Fear could be utterly blinding. “He did kiss me,” she whispered, a shy smile on her face as she confided in her friend. “He seemed so different. I’ve never seen him like that. I dunno know what to believe. I mean, I know what I wish to be true, but…”
Again, Maggie squeezed her hand in reassurance. “Believe it for ‘tis true. I promise ye.” Nodding her head in affirmation, Maggie glanced around the hall until her eyes fell on Garrett as he stood by the far wall, speaking to Cormag. “Dunno tell me,” Maggie said, a grin coming to her face, “that ye dunno know who Garrett is speaking about.”
Emma smiled. “His wife.”
“Aye,” Maggie agreed. “’Tis in the way his eyes sparkle, the way his face lights up at the mere mention of her, the way his voice grows heavy with emotion when he speaks of her. ‘Tis easy to see, is it not?”
Sighing, Emma nodded, her eyes on Garrett as he spoke to Cormag, his green eyes alight with longing−the same longing she had seen in Finn’s eyes only moments ago? Oh, if only she could be certain.
“Ye can see it in Cormag as well,” Maggie threw in, her eyes narrowing as she watched their laird. “His signs are more subtle, but they’re there.”
“Cormag?” Emma frowned as her gaze drifted to the stoic leader of their clan. Although his eyes always seemed wide open, watchful, aware of everything that went on around him, he never seemed affected by any of it. Never had Emma seen him agitated or angry, thrown off balance or even confused or hesitant. Was he even capable of love?
“If ye dunno believe me,” Maggie said, once again guessing Emma’s thoughts correctly, “then watch him carefully and ye’ll see. He canna help himself any more than ye and Finn.” With a sigh, Maggie turned back to her branches, her nimble fingers arranging them beautifully as her gaze drifted to her sleeping children near the fire.
Too distracted by her encounter with Finn as well as Maggie’s words, Emma mostly stood off to the side for the remainder of the evening, her fingers twirling a lone ribbon between them. While Maggie worked tirelessly, Emma did as she was bid and watched Cormag like a hawk, trying her best not to be too obvious.
At first, she did not notice anything that would prove Maggie’s words right. Calm and collected, he spoke to Garrett, completely unaffected by the vibrant words that flew from his friend’s mouth. Emma was about to abandon her observations when a muscle in his jaw twitched and his chest rose and fell with an utterly slow breath as though he was steeling himself for something.
Emma’s eyes went wide and her gaze was drawn to the entrance where Moira just now stepped across the threshold. Tall and fair, she bore a striking contrast to Cormag’s shadow-like appearance. Where he easily melted into the background, Moira stood out, drawing all eyes to her. And yet, while Cormag was always met with respect, the golden-haired outsider from Clan Brunwood was only ever shown distrust wherever she went. Emma wondered what was behind the whispers that circulated around Moira’s banishment from her own clan.
Neither one of them looked at the other, and yet, it seemed utterly clear that they were very much aware of one another. Emma stared with wide eyes as Cormag continued his conversation with Garrett while Moira offered her help to Maggie. Both hid behind an outward appearance of disinterest whereas a dedicated observer could neither miss the fleeting looks cast in the other’s direction nor the subtle ways they moved to keep each other in sight.
Shaking her head in utter disbelief, Emma stared at Cormag who drew in a sharp breath, all muscles in his body tensing, when Maggie accidentally knocked over a candle and it fell on Moira’s sleeve. The young woman quickly pulled her arm back before its flame could touch the fabric of her dress and set it on fire.
Maggie apologised profusely while Moira kindly waved away her concern. A moment later, all was right again, and yet, Cormag still watched Moira like a hawk as though he feared for her even now.
Sinking down onto one of the benches near the hearth, Emma sighed, wondering if there was anyone in this world who was as aware of her as Cormag and Moira were of each other. Did Finn notice her the moment she walked into a room? Did his eyes linger when she was not looking? Was that what Maggie had been talking about? Was it truly something she, Emma, could not see because her own heart was involved?
Oh, if only she could be as certain about Finn as she now felt about Cormag and Moira.
After leaving Emma in the corridor, Finn went outside and wandered around in the cold, hoping the fresh air would clear his mind.
Still, when he returned to the great hall an hour later, his body still felt as tense as a spring. While his heart ached to find Emma and continue what they had started, his mind wondered how she felt about it. Had he been the only one affected by their kiss? Had it been merely a pleasurable encounter for her? Or had it been as life-changing for her as it had been for him?
Walking around a corner, Finn bumped into Garrett, who had a pleased smile on his face and a bounce in his step. Lately, Garrett seemed utterly happy, and Finn could not deny that he envied him.
“Ye look awful,” Garrett commented as his narrowed gaze swept over Finn. “I thought ye wanted to talk to the lass.” His gaze darkened, and he pulled Finn to the side. “Did it not go well?”
Finn sighed, “I dunno know. I…We…”
“Out with it!”
Chuckling, Finn shook his head, feeling suddenly very self-conscious with his friend’s watchful eyes on him. “I kissed her.”
Garrett’s face split into a large grin, and he clasped a companionable hand on Finn’s shoulder. “About time!”
Finn’s shoulders slumped as he began to pace. “But what now? We didn’t have a chance to speak. I dunno know how she felt about it.” Turning on his heel, he looked at Garrett. “All these past few years, we’ve,” he scoffed, “all but hated each other. How are we−?”
“Nah!” Garrett boomed, a chuckle rumbling in his throat. “Ye didna hate each other. Ye’ve been in love all these years but managed to misunderstand each other.”
The air rushed from Finn’s lungs in one sharp whoosh as he heard Garrett utter these few simple words.
Garrett chuckled once more, “Ye didna know then?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with merriment as though Finn’s torments were utterly laughable. “’Twas rather obvious.”
“Was it?” Finn croaked, unable to deny the truth of Garrett’s words. However, neither could he deny that it frightened him nearly witless. It was as though the world had turned upside down within a day, within a matter of moments. All he thought he knew was suddenly no more.
“Aye,” Garrett confirmed, a hint of impatience coming to his gaze. “And now ye need to decide what ye want. ‘Tis a once in a lifetime chance at love, and ye’d be a fool to let it slip through yer fingers.” He shrugged, a grin on his face. “But that’s only my humble opinion.”
Rubbing his hands over his face, Finn groaned. “I know. I know. ‘Tis only that…that I keep wondering if ‘tis truly love.” Looking at Garrett, he sighed. “What if ‘tis simply attraction? What if she doesna…?” Gritting his teeth, Finn cursed, wishing life could for once be simple and straightforward.
“She cares for ye,” Garrett stated as though it were a fact. “She cares for ye as much as ye care for her.”
Staring at his friend, Finn shrugged. “How do ye know?”
Exasperated, Garrett sighed. “Because ye dunno hate people ye’re only mildly attracted to, ye hear me? Ye glared at her the way ye did because ye felt betrayed and ye canna feel betrayed if ye didna have hopes for more. There, ‘tis all very simple.”
“What about her?”
“She mightna have glared at ye, but the way she pretended not to see ye was quite telling if ye ask me.” Taking a step forward, Garrett sighed. “If ye’re truly not certain, then let her marry Vaughn and come to England with me.”
Finn flinched, and only when Garrett’s gaze dropped lower did he notice that his hands had balled into fists.
A triumphant grin came to Garrett’s face. “But if that thought turns yer stomach, then ‘tis safe to say that ye’re in love.”
“I didna know,” Finn mumbled, remembering all those years when he had been so angry, running off to Clan MacKinnear because the mere sight of her was torment, reminding him daily that what his heart desired was never to be.
“Ye didna want to know,” Garrett corrected, chuckling. “Listen, it came as quite the shock to me, too, when I first laid eyes on my wife.” Inhaling a deep breath, he shook his head as though he still could not believe it. “It hit me in the chest like a hard punch. I was completely taken aback by the sudden intensity of my feelings for her. One moment, I didna even know she walked this earth, and in the next, I was in love. But now that I am, I canna wait to find her, to have her back in my arms and kiss her speechless.”
Finn frowned at the wicked grin on his friend’s face.
“She talks a lot,” Garrett said by way of explaining. Then he sighed, and his face sobered. “Yer love is right here. Ye dunno have to go and search half of England for her, merely admit that ye’re in love. Does that not sound simple?”
Finn had to admit that it did. Even though he could not be certain how Emma felt, he could finally admit to himself how he felt about her. And to his great shock, he realised that he was utterly in love with her.
If she was to marry anyone, it would be him!
Chapter Eight
Loud & Clear
As the evening wore on, Emma settled deeper into her seat by the fireplace, only outwardly watching over Maggie’s children. Inwardly, Emma was quite busy watching all those around her, suddenly taken with the desire to discover the subtle signs people could not suppress when they were near someone they cared about…or did not.
Not only Cormag seemed utterly incapable of leaving the great hall after finishing his conversation with Garrett, but Moira, too, lingered after all preparations for tomorrow’s feast were finally taken care of and Maggie was satisfied.
At first glance, neither one of them drew anyone’s attention as there were quite a few people seeking company after a long day. They stood in groups or sat around Maggie’s newly-decorated tables, her watchful eyes ensuring that her decorations were not disturbed. Laughter and conversation echoed through the large hall, and the fire in the hearth lent it a warm feeling of safety and home.
As always, Moira sat by herself, and yet, from under her lashes she stole a glance at their tall, dark laird every now and then. Still, neither one seemed to be aware of the other’s interest in them.
Emma shook her head, shocked by the human heart’s inability to see clearly when its own welfare was concerned. Had she been this blind as well?
Of course, she had, and it had made her waste seven long years of her life!
Despite the almost magnetic connection between Cormag and Moira, they never dared look at one another, nor speak to the other, pretending they were nothing short of strangers. Emma felt oddly reminded of the past seven years and her attempts to meet Finn with polite indifference. Judging from Maggie’s words, her friend had seen through her charade as easily as Emma could now see the truth about Cormag and Moira.
Turning her gaze toward her friend, Emma heaved a deep sigh when she saw Maggie speak to her husband. With hanging shoulders, Ian stood before her, his blue eyes dark, and yet, there was a silent plea in them that Emma had never noticed before. At some point, he reached out and brushed a tender hand over Maggie’s arm. It was an achingly-sweet gesture, and yet, Maggie tensed.
Emma swallowed hard, her heart filling with pity when she saw the defeated look in Ian’s eyes. Instantly, he took a step back as though his wife had slapped him.
“She does not love him,” Emma mumbled under her breath, “but he loves her.” Sadness engulfed her as she watched Maggie and Ian, for the first time noticing the distance that existed between them for what it was: longing. While Ian clearly longed for his wife, Maggie’s heart was elsewhere. Something−or rather someone−stood between them. Once again, Emma wondered what had happened back in England before Maggie had come to Scotland. Had she left behind a great love? Had he died? Rejected her? If she had been in love, why on earth had she agreed to marry Ian?
Brushing a gentle hand over Blair’s head when she stirred in her sleep, Emma sighed, reminding herself that love rarely made sense and was often driven by fear. Had she herself not been ready to accept Vaughn in order to protect her heart from being broken should Finn reject her?
Lifting her gaze, Em
ma spotted Vaughn standing across the hall, deep in conversation with his father. Still, his eyes occasionally travelled to her, and she saw kindness and interest there. He was a good man, and Emma had no doubt he would be a good husband to her. Still, what did she have to offer him in return?
Unlike Cormag, who had taken note of Moira’s presence right away, Emma had not even noticed when Vaughn had stepped into the hall. How long had he stood there? Emma could not say. Her heart would never belong to him, just like Maggie’s heart still belonged to the unknown Englishman of her past. Even after all these years, Ian did not stand a chance, doomed to a loveless marriage, forever jealous of a man he had never met.
Emma knew that if she were to accept Vaughn, she would make him miserable. If not today, then eventually, and she could not do that to him. He deserved better.
As though to prove her right, Finn stepped into the hall in that moment…
…and Emma’s heart leapt as though it wished to break from her chest and rush to his side.
As though he were a part of her, she felt him near, and the look in his eyes spoke of more than interest or even affection. It reminded her of the day he had found her by the loch after her father’s burial.
Inexplicably, her eyes were drawn to him, and the very sight of him made the breath catch in her throat. Her head spun, and yet, she felt deliriously happy.
Finn, too, seemed eager to seek her out. Gone was the hateful glare of the past years, replaced by a look that spoke of utter longing and devotion, emotions so overwhelming that he needed to take a deep breath to contain them.
Out of the corner of her eye, Emma noticed Vaughn starting toward her.
Swept up in the very sight of her, Finn tensed when he noticed Vaughn’s attention drawn to the beautiful woman near the fire, her cheeks flushed with warmth and her brown eyes aglow like the embers in the hearth.