“Nay? And when was the last time ye sat in anythin’ but a grand hall?”
“That is not the point,” she huffed, though she still wore a smile.
Fin sat at the table across from her and dug two goblets and a bottle of brandy out of his bag, setting them both on the table.
“Oh, you do travel well,” she said.
“Of course, I dae,” he replied. “Any self-respectin’ Scotsman does.”
Fin poured them both out a glass of brandy, and he sat back, eyeing her over the rim as he took a drink. Ivy picked up her glass and gave him a small smile as she took a sip. Fin felt his heart spinning inside of him. He found Ivy to be more intoxicating than his brandy. She was charming and clever, and being near her lit him up inside in ways he’d never felt before, and the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to spend with her.
“So, why did you want to meet here?” she asked. “You seemed so serious about it.”
Fin pursed his lips and looked down at the tabletop, weighing his words in his mind. He knew that what he wanted to talk to her about and knew it was a difficult subject for her to discuss. And he knew she was going to like what he was about to request even less, so he hesitated to bring it up. And before they got into that, he wanted to spend some time with her.
“Did ye have any trouble gettin’ away today?” he asked.
Ivy shook her head. “No, I did not see Castor before I left. Which is not surprising. He does not usually seek me out unless he wants to berate me for one thing or another,” she said. “I had more difficulty getting away from Mira than Castor.”
Fin could not help but hear a touch of sadness blended with the anger in her voice. And when he looked into her eyes, he saw the same. She tried to act as if she was unaffected by the way her brother treated her, but Fin could see through it. He saw the pain she sought to bury deep inside and hide from the world. Perhaps even hide from herself.
“Were ye tae close?” he asked. “When ye were younger, I mean.”
She pursed her lips and nodded, the pain in her eyes deepening.
“We were. When we were young, we were very close,” she told him, her voice soft and quavering. “We used to tell each other everything. He looked out for me. He was always there for me.”
“What changed?”
“He did,” she replied. “When our father began grooming him to become the Baron, his attitude changed. He became -- arrogant. Condescending. He became the opposite of everything he was when he was a child.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It seems tae’ve hurt ye.”
She nodded. “It did. It hurt me more than anything ever has - before or since.”
Fin pursed his lips, silently chastising himself for opening up a topic that was very clearly hurting her. He’d wanted to enjoy a conversation with her and enjoy some time together, not dredge up memories that caused her pain.
“So, tell me somethin’ about yer childhood that made ye happy,” he said, desperately trying to change the subject. “What did young Ivy enjoy doin’?”
A faint smile flickered across her lips. “I always loved riding my horse,” she said. “I never felt as free as I did when I was on my horse, galloping through the open fields with the wind in my hair.”
“I can understand that.”
“Do not get me wrong, I still enjoy it. Quite a lot,” she said quickly. “But when I was a child, it felt so much different.”
“Aye. I ken everythin’ feels different now that we’re grown,” he replied. “I ken when we were kids, the newness of everythin’ just made everythin’ feel better.”
The smile on her face grew as she seemed to drift back in time and recall the way it had felt to be riding her horse when she was younger.
“I think you are right about that,” she told him. “As much as I enjoy it today, being a child filled it with a sense of wonder I no longer feel.”
Fin nodded. “Aye. Ye’re right.”
Over a couple more glasses of his brandy, the tension in the air eased, and the conversation flowed a bit more natural and free. They laughed a lot as they shared stories from their childhoods, and Fin found himself telling her things he had not told anybody. Not even Col. He didn’t understand how she got him to open up as easily as she did. Ivy would simply ask him a question, and the next thing he knew, he was laying out his entire story to her.
There was something about her that made him feel safe opening up. He did not fear her judgment. Fin knew he did not know her very well in the grand scheme of things, but he just somehow knew that she would never judge him harshly. Ivy made him feel comfortable sharing the private details in his life in ways nobody ever had.
It was mind-boggling to him, but at the same time, exhilarating as well. He had never felt so free to speak, to be open - to be himself - as he did in Ivy’s company. His position in Col’s household demanded a certain decorum from him. Certain things were expected of him and how he conducted himself. Add that to the fact that he had never been the sort of man who opened up and shared of himself or his feelings, and Fin felt like a completely different person around Ivy than he did around anybody else in his life.
And he liked it.
“So, you dodged my question earlier,” she said.
“Did I?” he replied. “What was the question?”
She smiled. “About why you wanted to meet in secret like this.”
“Couldnae I just wanted tae spend a wee bit of time with ye?”
“I suppose you could have,” she said. “But, I would hope the thought of spending time with me would not inspire such a grim mood as you had earlier when you asked.”
Fin chuckled. “Nay. Spending time with ye has been the highlight of ma time here.”
Ivy’s cheeks flared with color, and she looked away, biting her bottom lip. He gave her a moment to gather herself. She finally turned back to him, a warm smile stretched from ear to ear.
“I have enjoyed spending time with you as well,” she said, a slight giggle in her voice. “But you are deflecting my question again.”
Fin blew out a long breath and sat back in his chair, taking a long swallow of his drink. He knew he needed to talk to Ivy about what was on his mind. Knew he needed to ask her to do something for him, knew it would be no small cause of consternation and conflict for her. As much as he was dreading the conversation, Fin knew he could not continue to put it off.
“Tis about yer braither,” he said. “And I didnae feel comfortable talkin’ in his keep. Ye never ken who’s lurkin’ about, listenin’ tae things.”
She nodded. “I figured what you had to say was about Castor,” she said. “And given how closely they were all looking at you, I suppose it is not an unreasonable concern. But what is so secret that you could not speak of it?”
Fin gnawed on the inside of his cheek, trying to order his thoughts. He did not want to say the wrong thing and knew that in some ways, he needed to be even more delicate in how he phrased things with Ivy than he had to be with Castor. He did not want to offend her so badly that she would not speak with or see him again. And Fin very much wanted to see her again.
“Ye ken I believe yer braither is behind thae poisonings,” he said, trying to make it sound as gentle as he could.
“Yes, I am aware of that.”
Ivy bristled, and she sat up straighter, her lips compressing into a tight line. He could see the conflict in her eyes and knew she was torn between not wanting to believe her brother could be involved, but not being entirely certain he wasn’t. He was sure she felt pulled in one direction by her loyalty to her family and in the other by her desire to see justice done for the Duke… but more so, for Gillian.
“Let me ask ye this -- has he done anythin’ tae make ye think he’s involved since ye been back?” Fin asked. “I mean, aside from pullin’ ye out of York all of the sudden like he did.”
Ivy closed in on herself, and Fin could see in her eyes that there was something she was holding back. He could see the conflict raging
in her eyes that she was so desperately trying to hold back.
“What is it?” he asked. “Ye can tell me. Tis all right.”
She could not meet his eyes and instead focused on her hands as she dropped them into her lap. The silence stretched out between them, and the longer it did, the more certain Fin became that she was struggling with something that weighed heavily on her heart and soul.
And then Ivy raised her gaze to his and let out a long breath. And then she told him about the conversation she had with her brother shortly after they had returned from York. She told Fin about how strangely he had acted, and how hard he had pressed her about the talks she’d had with him. She told Fin about Castor’s interest in him and how it seemed to her to be something more than simple curiosity.
After she’d finished speaking, she slumped back in her chair, as if getting that out had left her feeling entirely spent. Ivy took a long swallow of her drink and set the goblet back down on the table. She looked up at Fin, her expression gloomy.
“So what did ye think about that?” he asked gently.
“It…” her voice trailed off, and she sighed heavily. “It made me suspicious of my own brother.”
Fin nodded. “That’s nae unreasonable,” he said. “It sounds like strange behavior tae me.”
“But it could be nothing,” she argued. “It could simply be coincidence. Or perhaps we are misunderstanding his motives. It does not necessarily mean Castor is involved.”
“Aye. Tis possible,” Fin replied. “But with everythin’ else we know combined, it makes me think tis nae coincidence.”
Fin could see that she was struggling mightily inside of herself. She did not want to believe her brother could be involved in something so monstrous, but the questions in her mind were tearing her apart inside. And it made him feel terrible for putting those questions in her head in the first place. The last thing he ever wanted to do was cause her any pain.
Fin gritted his teeth and steeled himself. He had to remind himself of why he had come to York to begin with. He had been given a specific mission, and it was his duty to see it through. He had to put his own feelings, his own desires, aside to do his duty for Col. No matter how he felt about Ivy or how she made him feel, he needed to focus on the mission he was given. That was all that mattered.
So why dae I feel so bleedin’ torn up about it?
He ran a hand over his face. “Ye may be right. It could be a coincidence, and that’s what I need tae find out,” he said reasonably. “I need tae gather as much information as I can to find the truth of things.”
“It almost sounds to me as if you have already determined the truth of things.”
Fin shook his head. “I’m willin’ tae be proven wrong. I’d be happy tae be proven wrong,” he explained. “If yer braither had nothin’ tae dae with it, I’ll happily tell the Duke that. But I need tae know for sure, whether he was or wasnae involved.”
Ivy pursed her lips and looked back down at her lap. She wrung her hands together nervously, and Fin could feel the distress radiating from her like heat from a hearth. And she did not look convinced.
“Tis nae a witch hunt for yer braither, Ivy,” he urged. “I just need tae find the truth. And if Castor had nothin’ tae dae with it, so be it.”
Ivy looked at Fin for a long moment, her eyes narrowed and her jaw set. She had that look of stubbornness about her that Fin found endearing.
“So… you are willing to admit you were wrong if the facts do not bear out your belief that Castor is guilty?”
Fin nodded. “Aye. All I’m searchin’ for is the truth,” he replied. “No matter where it leads me.”
Ivy pursed her lips and nodded. She still looked dubious, still torn and conflicted. But he also saw a steely resolve flare to life in her eyes. She looked up at him and nodded, the decision made in her own mind.
“I would like to know the truth, as well. No matter what,” she said. “I believe that Gillian and the Duke deserve no less.”
“Ye arenae wrong. I want tae find out who’s behind this and have their heads off for what they did tae Gillian.”
Ivy gave him a small nod. “Then, I want to help.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Ivy
They walked around the ruins of Therline, and Ivy’s mind was consumed with Fin’s hunt for an assassin and the possible connection to her brother. It was true that the conversation she’d had with him after returning from York had left her shaken and with plenty of questions. It had made her suspicious. But she had somehow convinced herself that she was being overly suspicious, that she was simply letting the situation dictate her feelings.
Talking to Fin, though, had reignited those fears and suspicions. It had reawakened her doubts and the conflict that raged within her. She still felt caught between loyalty to her family and seeing justice done. But the situation needed to be resolved, and Fin needed to find the assassin, no matter who it might be, if for no other reason than to see Gillian’s attempted murderer brought to justice.
With all of that going through her mind, it was hard for her to focus on Fin. And at that moment, he was all she wanted to focus on. He made her feel things nobody ever had before. As the Lady Welton, she was expected to behave a certain way. There was a decorum that a woman of her station was expected to adhere to at all times of the day. It was only behind closed doors, usually with Mira, that Ivy allowed herself to relax and be closer to who she was than she could normally be. But even still, even with Mira, she felt herself hold back.
With Fin, though, she did not feel that way. She did not feel that she had to change or alter her behavior. She did not feel that she had to put on airs or be somebody she was not. There were no pretenses required. When she was with Fin, she felt she could be her truest self. That was something new. Something she’d never felt in her entire life. And it felt good.
“I need tae ask ye tae dae somethin’ for me,” Fin said.
As they passed, the crumbling remains of a large structure drew her attention. She had been a baby when Therline fell, and she did not remember it, but she had heard the stories more times than she could count. When her father and his men were in their cups and boasting about their military conquests, the massacre at Therline was always held up as undeniable proof of the savagery of the Scots.
As if we English do not have our fair share of massacres and atrocities under our own belts.
“What is it you need me to do?” she asked.
Fin cleared his throat. “I need ye tae watch yer braither,” he said.
“Watch him?”
He nodded. “Aye. I need tae ken what he’s doin’. I need tae ken what he says and who he meets with,” Fin explained. “With the Duke recoverin’, I expect at some point, another attempt is goin’ tae be made tae kill him. And I’d like tae ken before it happens.”
They walked on from the crumbling ruins as Ivy’s mind churned with a thousand different thoughts and emotions. But through the fog in her mind, one bright, shining feeling emerged: anger. Perhaps it was because it was the easiest to cling to, but the idea that he had played upon her feelings for him made her face burn with a deep, abiding indignation. She rounded on Fin, her eyes narrowed, and her jaw clenched.
“Was this your plan the entire time?” she hissed. “Was getting me to spy on my brother for you the only reason you wanted to see me?”
Fin looked taken aback by the ferocity in her voice and stared at her wide-eyed for a long moment. He looked at her as if he did not know what to say at first. But he cleared his throat and stood up a bit straighter.
“Nay, lass. Tis nae the only reason I wanted tae see ye,” he said.
Ivy opened her mouth to reply but closed it again without speaking, flustered, and unable to form a coherent word, as her anger coursed through her. The idea that he was using her for his own ends, using her to gather information on her brother, enraged her so much, she was beginning to tremble.
Deep down on some level, she knew that she
was irrational. She knew she was lashing out because of how uncomfortable the entire situation made her. The idea of spying on Castor made her feel uneasier than anything she’d ever experienced in her life. But she knew it was the fear of what she might find if she did as he asked that upset her the most. And that was making her lash out.
She looked at Fin, her vision shimmering with tears she was stubbornly refusing to let fall. Ivy sniffed them back and clenched her jaw tight. She held his gaze firmly, doing her best to control the trembling in her body. As Fin looked back at her, there was such warmth and compassion in his eyes that it made her heart lurch.
He had such an unexpected and profound impact on her that was effortless for him. He could make her feel things on such a deep, emotional level, all seemingly without even trying. She did not understand it, but Fin could lay her bare and see deep inside of her, make her feel things she never had before with nothing more than a glance or a word.
And thinking the only reason he wanted to see and spend time with her for nothing more than a political agenda made her feel as if her heart was shattering into a million pieces like fragile crystal.
“Th - then what was the other reason?” she stammered. “What other reasons did you have for wanting to see me?”
He reached out and gently tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear and gave her a soft smile.
“Because I care about ye, Ivy,” he said. “Because I enjoy spendin’ time with ye.”
“And because you need a spy inside my brother’s castle,” she growled.
Fin sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Tis true. I need yer help. I wish I didnae need tae ask for yer help, but I dae,” he said. “But believe me when I tell ye, I’d want tae spend time with ye anyway.”
Ivy let out a long breath, and hearing the sincerity in his voice, left her feeling somewhat mollified. She believed that he wanted to spend time with her. It made her stomach churn once more, but this time for very different reasons. It filled her with a warmth that brought a smile to her face.
“There it is,” Fin said. “There’s that smile I love so well.”
Siren of the Highlands: Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance (Highlanders of Cherrythorn) Page 14