“A mistake?”
“Aye, nay, I…” He dropped his head briefly only to reveal a wide grin when he lifted it. “Ye’ll forgive me, lass. What can I say? Too much ale mayhap.” He reached for her. “Come, let us get ye back to the keep.”
Catriona shook her head vigorously and folded her arms. She recognised that grin. He used it often. But she’d never noticed how deliberately he used if before. It was disarming and he knew it. Used to send her off track. He’d been about to say something, intended to reveal more, but he’d snapped on that smile and covered it. What else did he cover like that? How many other hurts did he conceal with such a look? Mayhap she was not the only one hiding.
“Can we no’ stay a little longer?” She glanced up at the skies and frowned. The heavens were clear aside from a few puffy white clouds. The threat of rain had passed in an instant. Strange. She turned an imploring look on Finn. “Just a wee while longer. I need some fresh air. Ye know I dinnae do well in castle walls.”
His shoulders dropped and he nodded slowly. “Just a wee while. Lorna shall be worrying for ye.”
Sitting, Catriona curled her legs to one side and patted the ground in invitation. “I didnae mean to worry anyone. I just needed some air. I didnae think anyone would notice. I intended to use the passageway when I returned in the hope that I could sneak in and no one would be any the wiser.”
Logan had revealed the escape passage through the back of the keep on her first day. He told her it was intended for times of war. Why he showed her, she knew not. She suspected Logan was the kind of man who planned for every eventuality.
Finn sat beside her, drawing one knee up and resting an elbow on it. He stared out over the hills, affording her the chance to appreciate his profile.
“Did ye truly think I wouldnae notice?”
She rested her chin on her knees. “Aye.”
“Ye dinnae know me well at all,” he concluded.
She tilted her head to view him, cheek supported by her knee. “I dinnae think anyone knows ye well, Finn,” she replied softly. “But I am learning.”
Finn’s throat flexed and his great body heaved with a sigh. “Ye are too canny for yer own good, Katie.”
“I dinnae think anyone has ever called me canny.”
“Then they dinnae know ye.”
“But ye do?”
He gave a half shrug and shifted. “Well enough.”
Here, she suspected, was the real Finn. The tender and open one. There were no quick smiles or chuckles. She’d seen glimpses of him in his care of her but this was the first time she’d had a conversation with him. She wouldn’t give up that chance. Curiosity forced the next question from her lips.
“Did yer wife know ye well?”
A muscle in his jaw ticked and he remained focused ahead, as if scouting the land for enemy. “How do ye know of her?”
“Lorna told me a little. Not much.”
“Lorna shouldnae be speaking of such things.”
“Why? I am yer friend, am I not? At least I thought I was. We spoke of many things on our journey yet ye never mentioned Alice.”
The tiniest ripple of his muscles suggested he’d shuddered. Had she pushed too far? Telling Finn of her troubles had eased her dreams and she had not swooned since. She longed to offer him the same comfort.
“’Twas a long time ago.
“Ye told me I should speak of my troubles. Do ye no’ think ye should take yer own advice?” She plucked a strand of grass from her skirt and fingered it. “Did ye love her?” she prompted, bracing herself for the answer. As much as he needed to speak of it, him loving another made her stomach churn with jealousy. Not that it should. Finn had made no declarations toward her.
“Aye.” Finn twisted to look at her. “Aye, in a way. We were young. She was a good woman. I have heard the bards speak of love and I dinnae think it was that, but I loved her in my own way, aye.”
“I am sorry.” She reached over and rested her hand on top of the one at his side. He didn’t take her hand as she had hoped but he did not move either.
“Sometimes I wonder if I do not love the memory of her more.” He shook his head. “But ‘tis no matter. This is all in the past.”
“The past shapes us, Finn.”
He chuckled, admiration in his expression. “And ye say ye are not canny? Lass, yer surely the canniest woman I know.” Before she responded, he snatched her hand and came to his feet, taking her with him. “Come, let us return before my sister tears apart the castle.”
Catriona peered sideways at him, her heart heavy. That grin was back in place. He’d hidden himself away again. Still, she would treasure the trust he had put in her, even if it was only brief. And she would try not to read too much into it. She had other things to worry about. Like the fact her dead sister’s betrothed would be arriving on the morrow.