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Chapter Four
Fin
The next morning, Fin woke and slid out of bed. There was a cold chill in the air as he stood before the window and stretched, the sound of him yawning echoed around the stone chamber. Dawn was just beginning to break outside, and the first fingers of sunlight were slowly creeping over the distant horizon, casting the sky in vivid shades of pink and purple.
In the bailey below, the workers were starting to assemble for another day of work. Their voices and laughter, though muffled by the distance, drifted up to him. Behind him, the door opened, and he turned as a pair of chambermaids bustled in. He was only wearing his breeches and saw the two women blush as they quickly looked away from his naked torso.
“Good mornin’, My Lord,” said the first, a young woman with dark hair. “Thought you might want to freshen up a bit before breakfast.”
Fin nodded. “Aye. Thank ye,” he replied. “But I’m nae a Lord. I’m just Fin.”
“Very good, My Lord.”
He chuckled to himself as he watched them set down the washbasin and fill it with warm water. After that, they laid out cloths, towels, and bottles of what he assumed were soaps. He leaned against the wall beside the window and folded his arms over his chest. When he’d awakened that morning, the first thought that went through his mind was of the English woman who had turned up at the keep yesterday. Her bearing suggested to Fin that she was a noble. But he did not recognize the standards their entourage flew.
The dark-haired chambermaid turned to him. “Will there be anything else we can get you, My Lord?”
“How ‘bout an actual title then, since ye insist on callin’ me a Lord?” he chuckled.
A faint smile flickered across her lips, and she gave him a curtsy. “I shall see if they have any spares lying around.”
Fin smiled at her. “Tell me somethin’.”
“Yes, My Lord?”
“The two who came to York yesterday, I didnae recognize thae standards of their House,” he said. “Who’re they?”
“That is Baron Castor Welton of Elix,” she replied. “And his sister, the Lady Ivy.”
Fin nodded and stroked his beard as he took in the information. “Elix,” he finally mused. “I daenae know that I’ve ever heard of it.”
“I have never been there myself,” she said. “But it is a small barony to the southwest of York. I have a sister who worked in the household.”
Fin gave her a small smile. “Thank ye,” he said. “That’s most helpful.”
“Of course, My Lord,” she replied. “Breakfast is being served in the formal dining hall.”
He thought about attempting to correct her again but then thought better of it. Fin knew that no matter what he said, she would probably still refer to him with the honorific that was not his to claim. Nor did he want it; he had no desire to be a noble lord. He had no stomach for politics or games. He did not enjoy the formality, nor the pomp and circumstance of nobility.
“Thank ye,” he said.
She gave him a nod and left his bedchamber, still amused by the exchange. Fin thought of himself as a simple man. He enjoyed waking up early, walking through the forests around Westmarch Hall, breathing clean, fresh air. He enjoyed hunting or fishing, good conversations with good friends, and of course, drinking down mugs of ale at the tavern with his lads.
He found politics boring and bothersome. Fin didn’t believe he had the head or stomach for it. Not like Col. His cousin could walk that line and play those games with the best of them. And from where Fin stood, he saw Col as one of the few who did not let being granted a title of nobility and the power that came with it, go to his head. He was still as humble as ever, and if anything, having real power allowed him to care for his people even more. Even better and in more tangible ways. It was something that had always been a priority for him.
Fin used the washbasin to clean himself up and prepare himself for the day. He ran through the list of things he needed to do in his mind, getting everything organized and prioritized. And he silently cursed Col for tasking him with this assignment in the first place. This was far outside his normal list of duties, and he still did not feel comfortable in the role of chief investigator. He did not feel fit nor competent enough for the responsibility. He did not think he had the mind for it. Not like Col did.
But he knew that his cousin couldn’t leave Gillian’s side. And if Fin were honest with himself, he had to admit that seeing her lying in that bed, clinging to life by a thread, had enraged him. And there was a large part of him glad to have the opportunity to do something to help bring her would-be assassin to justice. Truth be told, Fin was looking forward to swinging the sword that took the man’s head off his shoulders himself.
As Fin readied himself for the day ahead, his thoughts turned to the Lady Ivy. She had that cold, haughty, noble demeanor, he found so off-putting. The way she’d tried to order him about like she had yesterday irritated Fin to no end. But he felt that he’d set her straight before he walked off. Of course, he knew he would catch an earful if it got back to Col that he had offended some friend or ally of the Duke’s.
And this was why Fin hadn’t wanted this responsibility in the first place. He only knew one way to be - blunt and direct. He said what was on his mind and did not play the games of Court well enough to know when to temper his attitude or bite back his words. That had never been his strong suit. Nor would it ever be. He was too old to change his ways or learn how to play games that held no interest for him - like politics and the affairs of the nobles.
Still, for as irritating as she was, he could not deny the beauty of the Lady Ivy. She was nearly a foot shorter than he and had skin the color of fresh cream. Hair blacker than the midnight sky fell in waves to the middle of her back. Beneath the wisps of hair framing her face, her eyes sparkled like polished sapphires. She was breathtaking to behold, and Fin had found himself stricken by her.
“At least till she opened her bleedin’ mouth anyway,” he muttered to himself.
Finished getting ready, Fin looked at himself in the mirror and thought he was about as presentable as he could make himself. He turned and headed out of his chamber and down to the formal dining hall.
