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Chapter Eleven
Fin
Fin stepped through the door of the office he and Hollis were given to use while they were here in York conducting their investigation. Hollis was behind the desk and looked up as Fin closed the door behind him.
“And where ye been all day?” he asked.
Fin walked over to the table in the corner and poured himself a mug of ale. He took a long swallow and dropped down into the chair in front of the desk and eyed Hollis evenly, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth upward.
“Ye’re grinnin’ like a fool,” Hollis said. “If I had tae guess, I’d say ye spent some time with the Ainglish lass. Ivy, was it?”
Fin shrugged and took another long swallow of his ale. He had enjoyed his day with Ivy and found her to be incredibly compelling. She was far from the spoiled, entitled noblewoman he’d thought she was when they first met. Of course, she was that woman. But he was learning that she was much more than that. She had facet upon facet to her personality, and the more he learned about her, the more he wanted to know.
She was smart as a whip, clever, and had a sharp wit. Ivy had a fiery temper and a sharp tongue. He enjoyed Ivy’s spirit. In a lot of ways, she reminded him of Gillian. He thought Col would get a laugh out of that, his infatuation with an Englishwoman much like his wife. Would probably mock him for it.
“So?” Hollis asked. “Ye goin’ tae tell me?”
“Aye. I spent the day with Ivy,” he said. “We were in the market.”
Hollis flashed him a grin. “So, I guess all yer ruffled feathers’ve been smoothed over, eh?”
“Somethin’ like that, I s’pose.”
“Daenae go doin’ somethin’ tae get us intae trouble.”
“What could I dae tae get us intae trouble?”
Hollis arched an eyebrow at him. “Ye cannae be serious right now, can ye?”
“What?”
Hollis sighed and then chuckled to himself. “Are ye tellin’ me ye daenae remember the Laird’s daughter?”
Fin paused with the mug halfway to his mouth and then began to laugh. He had forgotten about the Laird’s daughter. Several years back, Fin had met a young woman from a neighboring clan, and they had gotten on well. One thing led to another, and her father, who happened to be the Laird of the clan - a fact she had not shared with him - had discovered them in a rather compromising position.
There had been harsh words, threats, and ultimatums given. Col had managed to smooth things over and kept the Laird from killing him, but it had strained the relations between the clans. Not that tension between the clans was exactly a new thing. But in a time of peace among them all, Fin’s indiscretion had threatened to ignite a small war between the clans.
“Tis nothin’ like the situation with the Laird’s daughter,” Fin said.
“Are ye sure?”
“Positive,” he replied. “Nae even close tae bein’ the same.”
“Mebbe nae yet--”
“Shut it,” Fin laughed. “I am nae goin’ tae create that kind of problem again. I learned me lesson.”
“I hope so. The last thing we need right now is tae go t’ war with Elix because ye couldnae keep yer bleedin’ cock in yer pants.”
Fin laughed. “What did ye find out today?”
“Nae much,” he said. “Marcus still isnae talkin’.”
“Damn,” Fin grumbled. “Without him, we daenae have anythin’.”
“We could start talkin’ tae anybody else in town who knows anythin’ about herbs and remedies,” Hollis offered.
“Aye. Time consumin’ and tedious,” he said. “But we may nae have any other choice. We need tae drum up a lead from somewhere.”
