Page 97 of The Laird who Craved her

Leo blinked. "Oh." Another pause stretched out before he burst into a loud laugh. "I should have guessed."

Beatrice arched one elegant brow. "And what exactly is so amusing?"

He lifted both hands in surrender. "Nothing. Only that Highlanders seem to have a tradition for absolutely everything."

"We do," Molly said matter-of-factly. "If someone sneezes, there's probably an old blessing for it somewhere."

Margaret laughed brightly. "There probably is."

Leo shook his head with exaggerated disbelief. "So now we're sending brides to rivers?"

"We've always sent brides to rivers," Beatrice corrected smoothly. "And ye should be careful before ye laugh at the custom."

"Oh?"

She smiled sweetly at him. "That very tradition brought me to ye."

Leo's grin faltered. It lasted only a second before he cleared his throat with exaggerated dignity. "Well." He folded his arms across his chest. "When ye put it that way."

"I thought so," Beatrice replied.

The room erupted in laughter, and even Douglas's carefully composed expression cracked into a genuine smile. Finn laughed quietly too, his green eyes drifting back to Claire.

"So," she asked gently, "may we go?"

"As though I would refuse ye." His answer came so easily that it made her heart flutter. "Ye've scarcely asked me for anything since coming here."

Claire lowered her eyes for a moment. "I dinnae wish to presume."

Finn reached across the table, brushing his rough fingertips lightly against hers. "Ye never need ask whether ye belong here."

She looked back at him, the weight of his words settling warmly inside her chest.

He rose from his chair. "I've no objection." His gaze moved to Douglas. "I'll have a few men ride the upper ridge while ye're there."

Claire began to protest. "Finn."

He smiled before she could finish her complaint. "They'll keep their distance. I promised ye freedom, and I intend to keep that promise." His expression softened beautifully. "But after everything that's happened, indulge me in this one precaution."

Claire held his gaze for a long moment before nodding softly. "Aye. Thank ye."

He bent just enough to press a gentle, lingering kiss against her forehead. It lasted only a moment, but it was long enough to make Molly smile into her lap and long enough for Leo to look dramatically toward the ceiling.

"I see we're interrupting something," Leo drawled.

Claire laughed, her pale cheeks warming instantly. "We're leaving."

"Aye," Beatrice said, rising gracefully from her chair. "Before sunset."

Violet carefully folded away her embroidery, while Margaret gathered the light riding cloaks she had already set aside. Molly was already halfway to the heavy door.

"I'll have the horses saddled," the maid announced happily.

Claire looked around at the women as they prepared to leave together, their cheerful conversation filling the room once more. For the first time since arriving in the dangerous Highlands, she wasn't simply following them. She was one of them.

The horses left Rosewood at an easy pace, their hooves muffled against the well-worn dirt path leading toward the river. No one hurried. The evening itself seemed reluctant to pass too quickly. The sky stretched overhead in broad strokes of brilliant gold and pale amber, the setting sun casting long, beautiful shadows across the rolling hills.

A cool breeze drifted through the quiet glen, carrying the rich scent of pine and blooming heather, and somewhere in the distance a lark sang its final song before nightfall.