Page 91 of The Laird who Craved her

A comfortable silence settled between them. It still felt strange. Not awkward, simply... new. Claire looked from one familiar face to another.

"I believe I'm well enough now." She smiled softly. "If ye've been waiting for me, we may leave whenever ye're ready."

Leo exchanged a glance with Violet before folding his arms. "Well..." He drew the word out thoughtfully. "I suppose we should ask permission from yer laird first if ye intend to leave with us."

Claire laughed, the sound brighter than it had been in days. "I hardly think that's necessary."

"Nay?"

"Nay."

Leo raised an eyebrow. "So ye're telling me Lady MacRae plans to abandon Rosewood without informing Laird MacRae?"

Claire tilted her head. "And where exactly is me laird?"

"As it happens..." The familiar voice came from the doorway, and everyone turned. Douglas stood there, one shoulder resting casually against the stone archway. His eyes found Claire immediately, and a quiet smile spread across his face. "In his study."

He pushed away from the doorway. "He has been expecting ye."

For reasons she couldn't quite explain, Claire's heartbeat quickened. Without thinking, her hand rose to smooth the folds of her dress.

Leo noticed, and a slow grin spread across his face. "I believe," he said, stepping aside with an exaggerated flourish, "yer laird has kept us all waiting long enough."

Claire tried to glare at him. Instead, she found herself smiling as she turned toward the corridor leading to Finn's study. Douglas remained where he was as Claire walked away. She could feel his eyes on her until she disappeared around the corner.

The corridor leading to Finn's study felt longer than she remembered, perhaps because every step brought her closer to the conversation she'd imagined a hundred different ways while lying awake through the long hours of recovery. What would she say? Would he smile? Would he regret everything that had happened? Would he still look at her the same way?

She reached the door. For a moment, she simply stood there, her hand hovering above the iron latch. Then she knocked.

"Come in." His voice was quiet.

Claire drew a slow breath and stepped inside.

Finn sat behind the broad desk near the window, a stack of maps spread before him. Several letters lay broken open beside them, each marked with different clan seals. He looked up, andeverything stopped. The room. The noise from the courtyard below. Even Claire forgot to breathe.

He rose so quickly his chair scraped across the stone floor. For a long moment, neither of them moved. Finn drank in the sight of her. She was standing. That alone felt like a miracle.

Claire looked at him just as carefully. He looked older. Dark circles shadowed his eyes. Fresh cuts crossed one hand and disappeared beneath the cuff of his shirt. His beard had grown in unevenly over the past several days, and exhaustion rested across his features like another layer of clothing. She wondered if he'd slept at all.

Neither of them spoke. Finn took one step forward, then stopped.

Claire smiled gently. "I'm fine now."

His eyes searched hers as though trying to decide whether to believe her. She spread her hands slightly. "You shouldnae be afraid to come closer."

A soft laugh escaped him. "Ye think that's why I stayed away?"

Claire frowned. "Wasnae it?"

Finn shook his head. Slowly, he walked toward her. There was nothing dramatic in the movement. If anything, he looked almost uncertain, as though she might disappear if he hurried.

"I wasnae avoiding ye." He stopped only a few feet away. "I just returned this morning."

Claire blinked. "This morning?"

"Aye. I've spent days riding every corner of these lands." He looked away briefly before meeting her eyes again. "Every village. Every pass. Every abandoned watchtower. I wanted to know there was nowhere left for men like Callum Ross to hide."

Silence settled between them. His voice softened. "For ye."