Her Baseborn Scot by Christina Phillips

Author:Christina Phillips [Phillips, Christina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780645158403
Publisher: Phoenix 18 Publishing

Chapter 18

To hell with etiquette. Finn gritted his teeth and broke ranks, galloping ahead of the hunting party. It wasn’t enough to douse the rage thundering through his blood or ease the savage ache in his chest, but at least it meant he didn’t need to engage with his fellow warriors.

The shock, the betrayal, on Mae’s face when she had discovered his heritage ate into him like acid. He’d watched the fragile tendrils of trust that had grown between them shatter like shards of ice beneath an ax.

He hadn’t wanted MacAlpin’s acknowledgement. But he hadn’t imagined making that connection known would be so devastating.

As soon as this damn hunt was over, he needed to see her. God alone knew how he’d manage it, since it was clear she wanted nothing more to do with him. But he couldn’t leave Fotla without first speaking with her again.

To beg for her forgiveness, for keeping the truth from her. Even if it had been commanded of him by his king.

Constantine drew level with him. Finn refused to give the other man the satisfaction of glancing his way. But it was more than that. Finn wasn’t certain that if he looked at the prince, he’d be able to keep himself from throttling his half-brother.

Oblivious to the danger, Constantine drew even closer. “You gave yourself away, brother.” He appeared to take satisfaction in acknowledging the kinship between them, but Finn was under no illusion as to why. It had nothing to do with Constantine having accepted Finn’s recent elevation in status. “No rank-and-file warrior speaks to his betters in such a manner and gets away with his life.”

The ground was uneven, and the forest closed in, and there was no choice but to slow down. He still refused to glance at Constantine because, fuck it, he was right. Finn had laid the trap himself. If Constantine hadn’t run him through with his sword back at the stables for Finn’s insolence, the prince would have lost respect.

Yet, despite the fallout, he couldn’t regret it. He would allow no man, prince or not, to besmirch the reputation of Lady Mae without repercussions.

MacAllister rode up alongside Constantine. “Is anything amiss, my lords?”

The honorific still grated, coming from the king’s man, and Finn ignored him. Not that MacAllister was really asking for his opinion, in any case.

“There’s nothing wrong with Finn that a good fuck wouldn’t resolve. It appears his pretty little redhead is averse to parting her thighs for him.”

Don’t react. All Constantine wanted was to provoke him into a fight, and God damn it, he was sorely tempted. But he’d far rather accept this mockery of his inability to secure a noblewoman’s favor than have anyone guess the truth.

Mae had trusted him, and the knowledge of their night together would go with him to the grave.

“Indeed.” MacAllister’s voice was neutral, but Finn shot him a sharp glance, for some reason not trusting the man’s unquestioning acceptance. He gritted his teeth and once again concentrated ahead. What the hell was wrong with him? MacAllister could not possibly know of his night with Mae.

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