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“Nay? And when was the last time ye sat in anythin’ but a grand hall?”
“That is not the point,” she huffed, though she still wore a smile.
Fin sat at the table across from her and dug two goblets and a bottle of brandy out of his bag, setting them both on the table.
“Oh, you do travel well,” she said.
“Of course, I dae,” he replied. “Any self-respectin’ Scotsman does.”
Fin poured them both out a glass of brandy, and he sat back, eyeing her over the rim as he took a drink. Ivy picked up her glass and gave him a small smile as she took a sip. Fin felt his heart spinning inside of him. He found Ivy to be more intoxicating than his brandy. She was charming and clever, and being near her lit him up inside in ways he’d never felt before, and the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to spend with her.
“So, why did you want to meet here?” she asked. “You seemed so serious about it.”
Fin pursed his lips and looked down at the tabletop, weighing his words in his mind. He knew that what he wanted to talk to her about and knew it was a difficult subject for her to discuss. And he knew she was going to like what he was about to request even less, so he hesitated to bring it up. And before they got into that, he wanted to spend some time with her.
“Did ye have any trouble gettin’ away today?” he asked.
Ivy shook her head. “No, I did not see Castor before I left. Which is not surprising. He does not usually seek me out unless he wants to berate me for one thing or another,” she said. “I had more difficulty getting away from Mira than Castor.”
Fin could not help but hear a touch of sadness blended with the anger in her voice. And when he looked into her eyes, he saw the same. She tried to act as if she was unaffected by the way her brother treated her, but Fin could see through it. He saw the pain she sought to bury deep inside and hide from the world. Perhaps even hide from herself.
“Were ye tae close?” he asked. “When ye were younger, I mean.”
She pursed her lips and nodded, the pain in her eyes deepening.
“We were. When we were young, we were very close,” she told him, her voice soft and quavering. “We used to tell each other everything. He looked out for me. He was always there for me.”
“What changed?”
“He did,” she replied. “When our father began grooming him to become the Baron, his attitude changed. He became -- arrogant. Condescending. He became the opposite of everything he was when he was a child.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It seems tae’ve hurt ye.”
She nodded. “It did. It hurt me more than anything ever has - before or since.”
Fin pursed his lips, silently chastising himself for opening up a topic that was very clearly hurting her. He’d wanted to enjoy a conversation with her and enjoy some time together, not dredge up memories that caused her pain.
“So, tell me somethin’ about yer childhood that made ye happy,” he said, desperately trying to change the subject. “What did young Ivy enjoy doin’?”
A faint smile flickered across her lips. “I always loved riding my horse,” she said. “I never felt as free as I did when I was on my horse, galloping through the open fields with the wind in my hair.”
“I can understand that.”
“Do not get me wrong, I still enjoy it. Quite a lot,” she said quickly. “But when I was a child, it felt so much different.”
“Aye. I ken everythin’ feels different now that we’re grown,” he replied. “I ken when we were kids, the newness of everythin’ just made everythin’ feel better.”
The smile on her face grew as she seemed to drift back in time and recall the way it had felt to be riding her horse when she was younger.
“I think you are right about that,” she told him. “As much as I enjoy it today, being a child filled it with a sense of wonder I no longer feel.”
Fin nodded. “Aye. Ye’re right.”
Over a couple more glasses of his brandy, the tension in the air eased, and the conversation flowed a bit more natural and free. They laughed a lot as they shared stories from their childhoods, and Fin found himself telling her things he had not told anybody. Not even Col. He didn’t understand how she got him to open up as easily as she did. Ivy would simply ask him a question, and the next thing he knew, he was laying out his entire story to her.
There was something about her that made him feel safe opening up. He did not fear her judgment. Fin knew he did not know her very well in the grand scheme of things, but he just somehow knew that she would never judge him harshly. Ivy made him feel comfortable sharing the private details in his life in ways nobody ever had.
It was mind-boggling to him, but at the same time, exhilarating as well. He had never felt so free to speak, to be open - to be himself - as he did in Ivy’s company. His position in Col’s household demanded a certain decorum from him. Certain things were expected of him and how he conducted himself. Add that to the fact that he had never been the sort of man who opened up and shared of himself or his feelings, and Fin felt like a completely different person around Ivy than he did around anybody else in his life.
