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Chapter Seven
Ivy
When Ivy saw him step out of the apothecary, her heart lurched, and warmth began in her belly and started spreading outward. She looked down at his friend Hollis and gave him a small smile. She had been talking to him, waiting for Fin to return, and when he stepped over to them, Hollis gave her a wink and a grin.
“I’m goin’ tae head back tae the keep,” Hollis said. “I want tae - check on a couple of things.”
“Check on what?” Fin asked.
Hollis chuckled. “Things,” he said. “I’ll catch up with ye when ye return.”
Before Fin could reply, Hollis stood and walked away quickly, leaving her standing there with him. An awkward silence stretched out between them as they looked at one another, and Fin cleared his throat. His eyes shifted and looked behind her, and Ivy realized Brixton was still hovering behind her. Ivy shifted on her feet uncomfortably as the tension in the air thickened.
“Who’s this then?” Fin asked.
Ivy cleared her throat. “This is Brixton,” she said. “He - looks over me.”
A smirk flickered across Fin’s lips, and although she wanted to say something rude and put him in his place, her head was spinning, her stomach churned, and her thoughts were chaotic and disordered. Ivy thought she would have had a difficult time telling Fin her name right now if he asked. Standing so near him muddled her thoughts and made her feel strangely nervous.
“Looks over ye, eh?” Fin said. “Like a wet nurse?”
Ivy felt her cheeks flush, and a spike of anger lance straight through her. She narrowed her eyes and glared daggers through Fin. She felt Brixton moving behind her, and she quickly held up her hand to stop him. He did with a low growl, but she chose to not pay attention. Ivy did not need somebody protecting her anymore than she needed a wet nurse.
“How dare you,” she spat, her voice low and husky. “You… you… boorish lout!”
Fin chuckled. “Relax, lass. I was just windin’ ye up.”
“That was rude and wholly unnecessary.”
“Aye. It was,” he said. “Twas uncalled for and I apologize tae ye.”
Ivy pursed her lips and wore a look of pure indignation. Even in the face of his apology, she was not quite ready to let go of her anger. Of course, part of her knew that it also made it easier to put off the apology she had tracked him down to deliver in the first place.
“Dae ye forgive me?”
Ivy blew out a loud breath. “I suppose.”
Fin chuckled. “Ye are a stubborn one, arenae ye?”
“You will address her as Lady Welton, Scotsman.”
Fin’s eyes flicked to the man standing behind her, and Ivy felt herself cringe. The last thing she wanted was for Brixton and Fin to clash. Things were tense enough already. She drew herself up as tall as she could and gave Fin an imperious and icy glare. His response was to smirk, and she knew he had no intention of calling her Lady Welton. He was as brash and improper as anybody she had ever met and had no regard for social protocols. He was maddening, and she had the idea he did it on purpose, but she was not going to let him get under her skin. Small and petty as it was, she would not give him that victory.
“It is fine, Brixton. He may call me Ivy,” she said, her tone colder than ice. “I do not expect proper manners from somebody who smells as if they slept in a barn.”
She heard Brixton stifle a laugh behind her as she held Fin’s gaze. His eyes sparkled with mischief, and surprisingly, a broad grin crossed his face. Ivy’s eyes widened as the man actually had the nerve to burst into laughter. He doubled over, slapping his knees, laughing as if it were the funniest thing he had ever heard.
In other words, his reaction was exactly the opposite Ivy had been expecting. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, but she forced herself to stand there, unmoving, willing her face to show no expression: nothing but a cool, regal detachment. Oh, but it was difficult. Fin was utterly confounding to her, and she wanted to lash out. But she would not. She would remain calm and appear unmoved by his outburst.
Slowly, Fin’s laughter tapered off. He stood up straight and wiped the tears from his cheeks and took a moment to catch his breath and gather himself. When he had himself back under control, Fin cleared his throat but couldn’t quite wipe the smirk off his face.
“Apologies, Lady Welton,” he said. “I didnae mean tae laugh. But yer a clever woman. Funnier than I expected.”
“That is fine. No offense taken,” she said imperiously, befuddled by the unexpected and yet backhanded compliment. “I understand that things in the north are - different. I understand that manners are not as important as they are here in England.”
Fin’s smirk was feral. “Aye, ye are right. We Scots are nae nearly as uptight as ye Ainglish,” he said. “We daenae invent reasons tae be upset.”
Ivy opened her mouth to say something nasty to him but bit it back. She did not want to escalate or prolong things. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing herself to be calm. She had the idea that he was winding her up so badly because of what she had said to him the previous day. And if that were the case, she could not let herself be too mad about it. She probably deserved it for the way she had treated him. But at the same time, he was pushing things and was in danger of going too far over the line.
