by Alisa Adams
"But what do you do?" he had asked.
"Not very much!" she had snorted, amused for a moment. She had quickly felt such mirth evaporate and swirl into something more saddening.
It had been one of the few moments in their chatter where Merith had answered on instinct and then regretted the depth of feeling that such a simple statement could make.
But, as if sensing her sorrow, Finn had turned the conversation around.
She had told him of her childhood escapades and what she remembered of her youngest years. She spoke of how her father had always been a stranger to her, an image more than a relative. She even admitted, with a shy sadness, her worry that her brothers had fallen into a similar state, gone to war so often that she would hardly know them as to see them anymore.
After she had told him stories of reading scary tomes with her sisters and sneaking down to the kitchens for refreshments late at night, Finn took his turn.
He told her of his brothers—one blooded and one not—and a woman he called “old crone Aggie.” Regardless of the rude choice of words, the affection in his voice when he spoke of this “Aggie” was unmistakable.
"She's a battleax of a woman, she is," he told her, his eyes alight with love. "Thin as anything but stronger than me. Her, Abel, and Boris are this weird little trio but she is definitely the boss."
"Who is Abel?"
Finn had already told a story about the lazy and misbehaving donkey named Boris, and that his brothers were called Lachlan and Tomas. So, who was Abel?
"Abel's my dog. Well, Aunt Agatha's dog now, I guess. I found him when he was..." Finn pouted his lower lip in consideration and held up his hands. His palms rested about six inches from one another. "...this big? Thing was a stray and had been snatching scraps at Aggie's back door for weeks."
Merith laughed.
"And you didn't notice?"
"Oh, we knew!" he assured her with a laugh. "But he was small and alone, so quite shy. I had to wait for nearly a month before I could get close enough to even pet him."
She watched as Finn shook his head. His expression was both easy and at ease. He was lost somewhere in his childhood. Then he blinked and had returned to her.
"You'd never know to look at him now. When I'm home, he won't leave my side. He didn't grow that big but apparently he thinks himself a guard dog of monstrous proportions."
"Like you?" she asked.
The words escaped before she could stop them. Her eyes shot wide.
"Like me?" Finn was smiling. Apparently being likened to a stray dog wasn't insulting to him. Merith still felt ready to bite off her tongue. Why oh why could she never encompass the skills of an elegant lady and speak with more forethought?
Oh, to hell with it.
"Yes, like you," she told him. "You're like my guard dog. Big and strong and determined to sacrifice yourself to protect me, no matter the dange-."
“Wolf.” he interrupted her.
“Excuse me?”
“Wolf is more like it.” He said dead serious. “I prefer the wolf as an example. Wolves are stronger and more intimidating.”
They looked at each other for a moment and then they both started laughing.
“Wolf it is then!” Her expression softened, her eyes growing somber. "Finn, I hope you know just how much I am in your debt."
She reached out to try and take his hand, but Finn drew his fingers back and out of the way. Their conversation was cut off as the young boy ran up to their table and removed their metal plates. Neither of them had left a single crumb. Only when the child had moved off did Finn reply, his gaze staring darkly into the bottom of his cup.
"Is that why..." He stalled, his lips turning thin. He forced himself to meet her gaze. "Is that why you...why that happened last night?"
The words rushed from his mouth like he knew he would not possess the courage to say them for long. They tumbled from his lips in a bid for freedom that would not be open for long.
He licked his lips nervously.
"Because you are grateful to me? Because you feel safe with me?"
Merith's mouth popped open.
"What?" she asked, thoroughly confused.
"Merith..." Finn stopped again and cleared his throat. He lowered his voice. "My lady...we have encountered frightening events over the last few days. Events that you have handled very well, but it cannot be ignored that these are not normal circumstances. That our emotions are tangled up because of what has happened."
"Our emotions?" Merith asked, becoming angry. The man thought she did not know her own mind?
Well, what did you expect? her thoughts defended. It is hardly like you to show any sense of certainty. Lack of presence...remember?
"Do you not face conflict on any given day in the militia?" she demanded, immediately spotting the flaw in his explanation. "Do you have such moments with every woman you meet after suffering battle?"
Finn said nothing but held her gaze. Clearly, it wasn't his feelings he distrusted.
Merith bristled. Her spine straightened.
"I can assure you, Finlay Dunne, that I am in perfect control of my own decisions. More so now, in fact, than when I was ruled by the conventions expected of me by my family."
All through her childhood, Merith had not known just exactly which of her thoughts and feelings were her own and which had been preordained and dictated by her parents. Which elements of her own personality were truly destined to have been and which were simply her efforts to follow a path different from that of her five elder siblings? Merith had been defined for so long by what everyone else claimed for their own, leaving her with what remained, that she wasn't convinced she knew herself at all. All she could know with certainty was the way that that kiss had felt. The way it had made her feel.
Swallowing down the last of her wine with a haphazard determination that was perhaps not the wisest, Merith said, "I kissed you because I wished to kiss you. I apologize that it was so distasteful to you but do not seek to lessen my embarrassment by insulting my intelligence. It does neither of us the credit that we deserve."
And with that, Merith rose from her chair and left with a flounce to her step, the key to their room dangling from her fingers.
Merith's anger carried her only so far. It saw her up the stairs and to their room. It only diminished in a spark of surprise when there was a knock on the chamber door. Supposing that Finn was attempting to be a gentleman, nervous on whether she would even permit him within the room she had paid for, Merith called out for him to come in. She was, instead, greeted by a middle-aged woman that, for a moment, Merith thought to be Ilya! Her hair was the same soft grey, and she wore the locks pinned back as her maid always had. But the soft grunts and unladylike shuffling instantly destroyed the illusion of familiarity. Ilya was graceful in all that she did. And this woman was lugging a large barrel tub through the door as if she were wrestling a walrus.
Merith had never seen a walrus but she had been promised that they were large and ungainly creatures with ugly tusks, blubbery, and hard to move.
Confused as to what was happening, Merith stared at the bathtub and then stepped aside as more hands came inside. One was the little boy and another the landlady. A young man was also a member of the party, as well as a pretty little girl of perhaps ten years of age. All of them were carrying large cauldrons of water. With a splash and a gurgle, the tub was filled as simply as that and with quick instruction from the landlady, everyone traipsed back out again. Merith stared at the woman with a beseeching look for answers. She took pity on her and smiled.
"Your husband thought you might like a hot bath, ma'am," she explained, before leaving Merith to her own privacy.
Left in a state of wonder, Merith tried to summon the frustration that came with an ire cooled before its time. But the warm steam that issued from the surface of the bath was too much to resist.
With a glance at the door, Merith threw caution to the wind and tugged the sleeves of her gown from her shoulders.
They slid down her arms and, in the work of a moment, were pooled about her feet. Her underdress followed afterward before her fingers delved into her hair and pulled free what few pins were still holding it in place.
The sores on her bottom, the tension in her shoulders, the ache on the soles of her feet and around her toes...each piece of her was aching to be submerged.
Carefully, Merith stepped into the tub. Bracing her hands on its sides, she lowered herself in the water, her breasts swaying beneath her like pale little mounds.
She could not resist groaning, as the waterline met her neck, and she could tip her head back against the side.
The average man would have struggled to lay completely beneath the water, the tub not large enough for such long limbs not to poke above the surface. But Merith was so small that she disappeared completely. Dropping her head beneath the surface, she felt the heat seep through her skin, her lips, her eyelids. Her face was forced to wake up and her scalp came alive. The tendrils of her hair were sodden and grey as they floated about her face.
Coming back up for air, Merith couldn't resist the smile and giggle that bubbled inside her. Oh, but to have a true bath was surely the purest of paradises!
While part of her wished to save the bath for Finn so that he might enjoy the gift too, Merith found it near impossible to get out of the tub before her fingers started to prune and wrinkle. When she was able to fight the allure of the warmth, Merith rose and darted across the bedroom. In a flash, she snatched up a folded linen sheet from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around herself. The material was at least four times the size of her and swamped her little body as if she were being consumed by bedding. But layers of quilt were exactly what she wanted; they held the warmth against her body.
Rubbing at her wet nose and brushing at her brows, Merith jumped as the bedroom door cracked open and peeled wide a few inches. There was a moment's pause as if testing to see if she would cry out at the intrusion.
She didn't.
Finn entered the room, his eyes downcast and his attention on his feet. Despite the size of him and her nakedness, Merith's annoyance at the man took away any nervousness.
"If my appearance disgusts you so much, you should be thankful you did not enter a moment ago, You would have seen significantly more of it."
Finn winced, his stare on the bath. The surface of the water still slipped and slid, little waves rising at its edges. Several rippling circles expanded on its surface, where she had abandoned its warmth and scurried across the floorboards. Wet splodges marked her footprints.
"I don't...I mean, it doesn't. And I knew you were not bathing. I was listening at the door." Forgetting his refusal to look at her, his gaze flew to hers, a little panicked. "Not in an odd way or anything! Just...there's no lock on the door and I didn't...I just sat outside until I knew you were done."
Merith had never seen the man so out of sorts and, for a moment, she wondered if she had things all wrong. If Finn found her to be so unattractive, why then would he suspect that others would be eager to intrude upon her bathing?
She was reminded of those first few seconds of their kiss when she had thought that Finn was responding. In that moment, where her body bloomed with heat and itched to be close to him, his hands had taken her face and his lips had claimed hers. He had responded! She had been sure of it. And yet, the force of his later rejection and her own limited self-view had convinced her that such a response had been the anomaly and the cool distance Finn had maintained since were his true feelings.
What if she had it backward?
"Finn..."
The man stood against the door, his hands behind his back and his gaze on the floor. He looked as if he were a prisoner brought to the gallows, and unwilling to look at the hangman's block. Was it any wonder she had thought he hated her?
"Finn, would you please look at me?"
Finn took a long and slow inhale.
"No," he answered, finally.
"Why?"
"Because you are not decent and despite what our innkeeper now thinks, we are not wed. It would be an insult to you and your future husband to look at you. I don't know much, but I know that. I forgot it for a moment yesterday but I am more focused now."
Focused? The man was as taut as a lightning strike.
"Is that the only reason?" she asked, pushing for more to be said. It was with a noise of frustration that Finn finally met her eyes.
"Of course it is! You think any man to be immune to you? You must know yourself to be beautiful."
Hardly the words of a tender lover, Finn practically spat them at her—an accusation of her own ignorance.
Merith felt her cheeks warming, and she had the instinctive desire to correct him. All her life, the beautiful ones had been her sisters, Kathleen and Elizabeth. Not little Merith. The forgotten girl at the end of all the boys. Yet, something stilled her tongue. She did not argue the point or throw the compliment away. For some reason, when Finn said such things, she believed them.
"Thank you," she whispered. "You should wash. I shall turn my back to preserve your modesty," she said, chuckling.
Some of the light returned to Finn's eyes but all too quickly his stare landed on her body and then danced away. In a series of hurried motions, designed to see the task completed quickly, Finn tugged off his clothes. Blushing, Merith spun on her heel as promised. But, somehow, the sound of Finn washing was worse than witnessing it for herself. A woman of fine imagination and the appearance of his naked chest already in her mind, it was hard for Merith not to imagine what was happening behind her.
Swallowing, Merith focused on the job at hand and used the end of the linen to dry herself down. She moved slowly and with careful precision so the sheet wouldn't fall from her shoulders.
By the time she was no longer wet and glossy in the candlelight, there was the rush of water that was Finn's exit from the bath and then the hurry of movement as he dried himself on a provided blanket. The fabric made noise as he rubbed himself down, and Merith tried to close her eyes and think about something besides the way Finn had looked when she had tended to him. How the firelight of their makeshift camp had gilded the curves of his torso and set the lines of his body into shadow. Her mouth watered, and she was lost in her thoughts until Finn claimed a cushion from the head of the little bed and dropped it to the floor.
Merith looked around in surprise. She was about to ask him what he was doing but became immediately distracted by the image on display. Finn wore the blanket looped and fastened around his waist. It rode low on his hips, revealing the shape of his lower body and the way sharp angles of muscle cut from his sides to his groin. Above them, lean and taut layers laddered his belly, and then his chest broke out into two pads of strong muscle. Each bore a small, brown nipple. His skin was smooth, with only a speckling of hair, and shone a burnished gold. His face was clean if still stubbled. A handsome stranger of might and power stood elegantly beside the bed, fussing with the linens.
His hair was the only piece of Finn that still felt like him. It was wet and stuck up in random tufts about his head that gave him an odd sort of look that was as funny as it was charming.
"What are you doing?" she asked, staring at the sheets he held in hand.
"I'm making up a bed on the floor. You can have the bed and I'll sleep down here."
It was at that moment Merith felt that her life had changed forever.
There, standing in the middle of an inn she couldn't remember the name of, in a town she didn't know, discussing linens and cushions.
As Finn had spoken, the very idea of him on the floor felt alien to her. Not only did the logical part of her mind chime in to argue that there was plenty of space on the bed for two, but her emotions were also right there alongside. They balked at the idea of him on a hard floor, unable to sleep, playing the gentleman for her. Just as he had every moment since they had met.
She watched the way Finn's hands worked the blankets. There was absolutely no hesitation
in his actions. He was determined to do right by her, despite the fact that no one would ever know what occurred between them in this room. He would know. And that was all that her heroic guardsman needed to walk the line of noble morality.
Finn was honest. He was loyal. He was brave and true and everything that heroes were supposed to be. He was handsome and kind, and funny and bright. His kiss made her bones melt and her heart race, and every time she caught him looking at her, Merith felt her breath catch.
As she watched Finn rub at his nose, tug on his ear, and cast a shy and awkward smile her way, Merith knew with more certainty than she had known anything else in her life: she was completely in love with Finlay Dunne.
14
"Finn..."
Finn closed his eyes. There was something in the way she said his name that turned something so ordinary into an exotic lilt. Her voice was so melodic that a word he had heard all his life—shouted by Aggie, called by his brothers—turned into a caress. It stroked him. Like a sweet sensation beneath his skin. He took a steadying breath.
"Yes?" Focused on nudging the blankets on the floor into an oblong shape, Finn forgot to use her title.
It felt wrong now. A boundary that, when they were both covered in dirt, seemed an odd distinction to make. Like a piece of clothing that was the wrong size; it didn't sit well.
"Finn..."
There was patience in Merith's voice, but it was clear that she wanted him to look at her. He steeled himself against the image of her, rosy in the cheeks, and still shimmery with damp freshness. Then, he looked up.
She stood on the other side of the bed, tiny beneath the sweeping layers of linen bunched beneath her chin. With her hair damp and the cool air turning her pale skin white, her eyes were the brightest speck of color in her face. Bright and vibrant, they bore into him in a way they never had before.
"Finn...would you lie with me?"
Her words, so simply spoken, set Finn's heart pounding against his ribs. His body lit up like a bonfire, and his palms itched to touch her. He had to remind himself of her innocence. She didn't mean the words as she said them.