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“So, what are ye doin’ here?” Fin asked. “Did ye follow me?”
Ivy felt her cheeks flush with heat, knowing how it would sound if she answered the question. But it was obvious that she had been following him, and if she said otherwise, he would probably use it to embarrass her further. And that was the last thing she wanted. He had already humiliated her enough for one day.
“I saw you passing through the market, and I wanted to speak with you,” she said evenly. “I chose to wait out here until you had concluded your business with the apothecary.”
“I appreciate that, Lady Welton,” he said. “So, what can I dae for ye?”
She cleared her throat as her stomach roiled. She had always found apologizing for her mistakes difficult simply because she did not like to acknowledge that she had been in the wrong. Especially when it came to something like this. What made it worse was the fact that Fin could be exceptionally rude and boorish. But then, what did she really expect from a Scotsman?
“I just… I wanted to apologize for the way I treated you the other day,” she began. “When we arrived at York. I assumed you were a servant and treated you poorly. For that, I apologize.”
She let out a breath and felt a profound sense of relief wash over her. She’d done it. She had gotten it out and was now done with it. Fin, though, did not seem ready to let it go just yet and gave her a mischievous smirk.
“So, dae ye always treat yer servants that way?” he asked. “Are ye always that mean to ‘em?”
“I was not mean,” she objected. “Besides, they’re servants. They are there to serve me. It is their job.”
“Aye, but their job is nae tae be abused by ye.”
Ivy gritted her teeth and glared hard at him. “Are you really trying to tell me how I can and cannot treat my servants?”
“Nay. Tis nae me place tae tell ye how ye can and cannae treat yer servants,” he said. “I’m just tellin’ ye that ye may want tae consider how ye treat yer staff.”
“They’re my servants.”
“Aye. But they’re still human bein’s.”
“I cannot believe you are going to stand there, after I graciously offered you an apology, and lecture me about how to treat people?” she growled. “In particular, how I treat my staff?”
Fin shrugged. “Just offerin’ a little friendly advice.”
She blew out a noisy breath. “The next time I wish for your advice, I shall ask for it,” she huffed. “Brixton come, we are leaving.”
Without waiting for Fin to reply, she stormed off. Her face burned, and her belly churned with anger.
“The nerve of that man,” she hissed. “Who does he think he is?”
“He’s a bloody Scot,” Brixton offered as he fell into step beside her. “They have no sense of decorum or propriety.”
“And to think, I lowered myself to apologize for being so rude to him,” she huffed.
“There truly is never any reason for you to apologize to a Scot, My Lady,” he said. “They are beneath you. They are barely human.”
Ivy was not prepared to go quite that far in describing the Scottish people, but she had always found them to be very different from the English in terms of manners and temperament. But Fin was something else entirely. He seemed to live to infuriate her. It seemed to be his only joy and purpose in life.
“Do not let him trouble you, My Lady,” Brixton said. “He is not worth the upset he is causing you.”
“Yes, yes, I know that,” she snapped. “Thank you for informing me of that fact, Brixton.”
As she stomped her way back through the town and toward the castle, rage crackled along Ivy’s every nerve ending. She muttered to herself angrily, and the people in her path, seeing the look of fury painted clearly upon her face, moved out of her way quickly. Ivy knew she shouldn’t let Fin get under her skin. She should not let him get her this worked up. She was a noble and should know better than to let a man of his station upset her like this.
But he had seriously overreached by telling her how she should and should not treat her servants. Who did he think he was to tell her that she was mistreating them? He was a smug, arrogant man who thought he was clever. Who thought he was on her level. He mistakenly believed he was her equal.
Those thoughts and even more uncharitable ones rocketed through her mind as she stormed back to the castle, her anger at the Scotsman ruining her day and killing her desire to shop at the market any longer.
