She was magnificent, and Finn knew very well why he had never allowed himself to see her thus.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he almost failed to notice when Emma slipped from the hall, taking the corridor toward the back entrance. Presumably, Maggie had sent her to fetch more branches. Could there possibly be any left? Who on earth needed all these decorations? They would wither and die soon anyhow.
Pushing himself off the wall he had been leaning against, Finn hurried after her, careful not to draw Maggie’s attention. Quick strides carried him onward, and he came upon Emma as she was about to step outside. “Emma,” he called before all courage could desert him.
At the sound of his voice, she turned to look at him, utter surprise in her gaze. “Finn, what are ye doing here? I thought ye’d left with Garrett.”
The thought that she paid attention to his whereabouts pleased him, and he could not prevent a smile from showing on his face.
Seeing it, her gaze narrowed in confusion, and yet, the way her breath rushed from her lungs and the corners of her mouth drew upward ever so slightly spoke of joy. Did she truly care about him? Was it possible that Ian was right? That he had been ever so blind?
Her eyes held his, and belatedly, Finn realised that he ought to say something. “I…I wanted to speak to ye,” he began, cursing the way his voice shook. “I need to speak to ye.”
“Aye?” Her eyes remained on his, waiting, expecting…hopeful somehow, and yet, guarded.
Finn knew only too well how that felt. Where on earth was he to begin? He could not very well ask her straight out if she cared for him, could he? Would she not laugh at him?
Clearing his throat, he groped for words. “I wanted to…I’ve heard…that is, I’ve heard that Vaughn intends to ask for yer hand.” The moment the words had left his lips, Finn could have kicked himself. Poorer words had never been chosen, that much was certain.
As expected, the glow in her eyes dimmed, and her arms rose to cross in front of her chest…as though to put a barrier between them, to keep him away. “I fail to see how ‘tis any of yer business.” Her voice was harsh as she spoke, and yet, he thought to detect a hint of pain as well.
“I’m sorry I blurted it out like that,” Finn apologised as best as he could while his nerves lay bare, “but I need to know if ye intend to marry him.”
Exhaling a quick breath, she frowned. “Why? Why do ye need to know? What is it to ye?”
“I just…” Gritting his teeth, Finn took a step closer, his gaze unable to veer from hers. “I simply need to know.”
Scoffing, she shook her head. “Why? If I didna know any better, I’d think ye’re jealous.”
Her words were like a stab to his heart, and Finn momentarily dropped his gaze. When his eyes found hers once more, the look on her face was one of sheer incredulity. Oh, dear god, she knew! Would she laugh at him now?
“It c-canna be,” she stammered, her warm brown eyes fixed on his. “Ye hate me. Ye always glare at me. We’re nothing to each other. We’ve barely spoken a word to each other since−” Her voice broke off, and she dropped her gaze as heat shot up her face, colouring her cheeks a crimson red.
Finn rejoiced, his heart hammering in his chest as he stepped closer, undeniably drawn to the woman with the dark brown eyes who had been haunting his dreams for years. “Since that morning,” he whispered, “although ye did not say much.”
Emma swallowed, lifting her chin a fraction, a hint of righteous indignation coming to her voice. “Neither did ye. Ye only stood and stared.”
“Aye.” Finn nodded, a small smile claiming his features. “Aye, I did. I admit ye threw me off balance.”
The red in her cheeks darkened. “I’m sorry. I…I shouldna have kissed ye. I…”
“’Twas not a true kiss,” Finn said, watching her closely.
Her gaze narrowed, and a frown drew down her brows. “What do ye mean? Of course, ‘twas a kiss. What else could it have been?”
Holding her gaze, he leaned closer. “A dare.”
Shock widened her eyes and dropped her jaw. “Ye kn-know?” she stammered. “How?”
Emma’s heart pounded in her ears like a stampede as she stared up at Finn, mortified by his rightful accusation. Ever since Maggie had spoken to her so honestly, Emma had heard her friend’s words echoing in her mind. I’ll never believe he’s been angry with ye for all these years because ye kissed him. That’s nonsense. Even if he hadn’t liked it, he wouldna have acted like that. He would’ve laughed it off and gone on his merry way.
But now she knew why he had been angry, why he had glared at her all these years. And yet, it seemed an awfully long time to hold a grudge. Could it be that he cared for her? That he had been offended to think that she had not cared? That it had only been a dare to her? A game?
Could the answer truly be that simple?
“I followed ye,” he answered her question, his eyes searching as though he, too, was looking for answers. “I followed ye, and I heard ye speaking to yer friends.”
“Oh.” If possible, Emma’s cheeks burnt even hotter. “I’m sorry I…” Then a thought struck, and her eyes narrowed with renewed purpose. “Why did ye follow me?” she demanded, taking a step toward him,
