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And if she protested?
He could always use a volunteer to test his latest potion… .
Chapter Four
Finn watched from the shelter of a thicket while Violet stepped out of a tiny woodland hut and into the rain. She’d been inside for almost an hour. While the windows were opaque, Finn had gathered that she visited an old crone who grew herbs and perhaps treated illness. The hut had pots of unusual plants on steps and ledges. Vines grew up over the roof, all but hiding it from view. Fragrant smoke wafted from the hearth fire, as if the sage who lived within had tossed some fresh herbs onto the fruitwood.
Was Violet truly ill to make the nighttime visit to a wise woman who lived outside the village? Finn had not been pleased to witness her nocturnal wanderings. Now he watched as she pulled up the hood of her cloak, covering her dark hair until she blended with the shadows for the journey home.
A journey she wouldn’t be making just yet.
He reached for her, clamping a hand over her mouth to ensure her silence.
Hauling her against him, he tucked her under his cape, the top of her head fitting neatly below his chin just the way he remembered. He could tell, just from holding her in the dark and driving rain, the exact moment she recognized him. Her body relaxed against him, the tension leaking from her shoulders as she turned to peer up at him. Sliding his hand from her mouth, he relaxed his hold.
“Finn?” Raindrops clung to her lashes as she stared at him, wide-eyed. “What are you doing out here?”
Now that he knew she was safe again—under his protection—some of his earlier anger returned.
“Protecting you. The one thing your father asked of me above all others.” Before the drink had set in at sup, the Lowland earl had made it clear that Violet was his highest priority. And although Finn wanted to avenge his brother more than anything, he could appreciate the need to watch over the wayward lass.
“Did he honestly say that? He wanted to protect me?” She blinked in surprise and it occurred to him what an unusual woman she was to stand there, heedless of the fierce storm and danger rising all around, to seek some hint of caring from the wasting shell of a man who ruled her keep.
Even as he wanted to shake her for taking foolhardy risks, he felt an overwhelming urge to safeguard the vulnerability he saw in her eyes just then.
“Aye.” He only wished the old earl had thought to protect her long before now—before she’d grown comfortable eluding the keep’s watch guards to run headlong into treacherous forests alone. “Because in case you failed to notice, there is a predator lurking in the woods.”
He’d almost stopped her from leaving the keep altogether when he discovered her sneaking from her chamber at midnight. But after she’d lied to him so blatantly on their first meeting—denying knowledge of the Caladan earl—he feared she might hide something that could lead him to find his brother’s killer. She was strangely comfortable in a woodland area that frightened grown men.
A clap of thunder made her jump and he steered her away from the wise woman’s hut, back toward the main path leading to the keep as the downpour picked up volume.
Sheltering her under his arm, he deflected the worst of the rain, but the sound of it drowned out her words when she turned to say something to him.
“What?” He lifted his voice, certain no one could track them in weather like this.
Pausing, she rose on her toes as if to get closer to his ear. Before she said anything, however, the sky lit up like noontime a moment before a crack of thunder shook the ground.
“Come on!” she shouted loud enough for him to hear, tugging his arm in the opposite direction of the keep.
He followed where she led, scarcely able to see in front of him except for those moments when bursts of lightning illuminated the trees. The air hummed with the force of the storm as their feet kicked up mud. If they didn’t find shelter soon, he would insist they return to the wise woman’s hut to wait out the storm. At least there they would be dry.
But moments later, a shadow rose from the high-flowing creek—the same waterway where they’d met earlier that day. Except here, downriver from where he’d first seen her, a hulking shadow rose at the water’s edge. A squat stone structure of some sort.
She darted toward the building—an abandoned mill, he thought. But he hauled her back, keeping her behind him and his hand on his sword. What if the killer hid here, in the mill? At very least, any manner of thieves could take shelter here.
He found the rotted wooden door and shoved it open. A startled bird flew out, but all remained quiet inside otherwise.
