Chapter Two
F inneas Lockhart, Duke of Granton, frowned as he parted the curtain in his traveling coach to see the sun was moving closer to the horizon. With only two hours left before arriving home to Gealach Castle, they would need to stop for a meal and fresh horses.
He had hoped to keep going so he could finally be home. It had been near to sweltering in London for only being May, and he’d wanted to abandon the heat.
Frowning again, he knew the weather wasn’t the only reason he’d wished to leave town.
His dear friends, Shay and Reese, understood why Finn hadn’t been enjoying the Season to its fullest this year. But it seemed the rest of the ton, didn’t know nor care.
Running his hand over his sleeve, he was still surprised not to encounter the black band there indicating he was in mourning. Technically he had been out of mourning for his dear sister in February, but unfortunately the end of a mourning period did not bring about the end of missing someone.
“I know what you would say, dear sister. That I’m a goose for being so forlorn with your loss all these months later. But you know what I would say to that.”
As children, Finn used the excuse of him being the heir to the dukedom as the reason everything should go in his favor. Juniper, however, was rarely ever in agreement. He smiled at the memory, and rapped on the roof of the coach to tell the driver they should stop at the next tavern.
In truth, while he was ready for his journey to end, and he was eager to quit London, he wasn’t truly looking forward to being at Gealach alone either. It seemed he couldn’t find a place to be at peace.
He remembered the castle being a place full of laughter when his parents and sister had lived there with him. But one by one he’d lost his family.
His mother and infant brother had died days apart. The old duke had done his best to be there for Finn and Juniper, but Finn could tell their father was never the same and would often find him sitting in his study with a glass of whisky doing nothing but looking out the window at his wife’s garden.
But even with less smiles and laughter from his father, he and June had daily adventures filled with fun and happiness.
Then their father had taken ill when Finn was only ten and six. And while he’d not been prepared to become the duke while attending Heriot’s School in Edinburgh, it was thrust upon him nonetheless.
He’d left and come home to stay with June, finishing his schooling with private tutors and keeping up with his friends through correspondence. For more than ten years he and June had lived together in the large castle on the hill.
He made his way to London for the Season each year, and each year he begged June to come with him, but she had refused.
And then last year while he’d been visiting Reese, she’d taken ill. He’d barely made it home in time to say his goodbyes.
Despite all that June could not do for herself in her last days, she had never made Finn feel as he often felt with other people. As if he was needed for something. It seemed everyone needed The Duke . Whether it be to invest in something, or to vote a certain way. No one just wanted… Finn.
He loved his friends but even they often looked at him as a peer rather than just a man.
And the young women scouring the ballrooms for a husband, didn’t care who he was as a person so long as he was titled and rich.
June had never cared about any of that. To her he was simply a brother.
If ever he decided to marry, he would choose a bride who wanted him, rather than needed him.
The coach slowed and Finn brushed the dust from his coat in preparation for when it stopped and he was free to exit. He looked forward to stretching his long legs. While his coach was built for a man of his size, it was still uncomfortable to be sitting for hours on end. Especially for someone who had grown so restless these last months.
When the door was opened, he practically sprung from his seat. He spoke with the coachman about the arrangements and when he would be ready to depart before turning to enter The Old Forge tavern.
As he moved to the three wide steps that led to the door of the establishment, he noticed a woman sitting on the middle step. At first, he assumed her to be a doxy waiting for a customer to happen by, but then he took in the detail of her gown, and realized she was a proper lady. Despite the redness of too much sun on her face and arms, and the wilted flowers in her limp coiffure.
Keeping to his own business, he nodded in her direction before passing, though it didn’t look as if she’d noticed him at all as she stared blankly down the road as if waiting for someone to arrive.
Inside the tavern, Finn was met with the usual noise accompanying a room that held ten to fifteen drunken Scotsmen. The occupants seemed to be in fine spirits this evening. As Finn made his way to a table, he picked up bits of their conversation.
“I’d bet the lass wasn’t really his wife. One can’t get too far away from one of those, believe me, I’ve tried.”
“…been out there all day long getting toasted by the sun while waiting for him to come back. As if he’d forgotten her.”
“…she’s a fine bit. I’ll give her a place to stay for the night.”
Each comment was met with laughter and it didn’t take long for Finn to realize they spoke of the lady he’d passed on the steps.
The innkeeper brought his meal and a tankard of ale.
“Anything else for ye, my lord?” the man asked. Finn didn’t bother to correct the address. There was not much graceful about him other than his title. He was a large Scot, and despite his untarnished heritage most people stepped to the side when he came close. As if he’d pull a claymore and remove their heads like a proper Highland warrior rather than a well-educated peer of the realm.
“Nay,” Finn answered the man who turned to walk away when Finn’s curiosity got the best of him. “Excuse me.” The man stopped again. “The woman sitting outside…?”
He didn’t need to do more than prompt the question while in his homeland. Scots didn’t need much encouragement to tell a person a story.
“Aye. She’s been out there all day long. She arrived last night with a man who said he was her husband, but I doubt that was true. He ran off this morning and left the lass here.”
“I see,” Finn said while wondering what kind of scapegrace would do such a thing to a lady. He focused on his meal. The woman was not his concern. He only wanted to get home.
Surely, she needed to go back to London, and Finn was heading in the opposite direction. Someone else would see her safely home. It was for him to take on. But as he finished his meal, the comments became increasingly worrisome.
“…her husband might have broken her in last night, but I’ll be showing her how a real man goes about it.”
“She doesn’t have a coin to her name. I’m sure she’ll be up for anything to earn a bit of blunt.”
Finn paid for his meal and stepped out of the inn to find his coachman had his carriage waiting with four new horses to finish out the trip.
The woman was still sitting in the same place, still looking down the road with her chin propped on her palm.
As he passed the lady on the steps, he heard his sister’s voice in his head.
“Help her, Finn,” she ordered in that scolding tone only an older sister possessed. His steps slowed, but he didn’t stop.
He, of course, knew he wasn’t hearing his actual sister from beyond the veil, but his own conscience had taken on her persona. It seemed fitting as the lass was always telling him what was right and wrong when she’d lived.
While he’d eaten, he’d come up with every excuse as to why he should just go on his way and not interfere in the matter, only to have his sister’s voice turn him around with one imaginary command.
“Wouldn’t you have wanted someone honorable to help if it was me sitting there?” his Juniper-voiced conscience asked.
“Bloody hell,” Finn whispered to himself as the coachman stood next to the open door. He was so close to being away from here, and any responsibility he did or didn’t want to take on. But he knew he’d never stop Juniper from pestering him if he didn’t do something. No, not something.
He needed to do the right thing.
He turned to face the bedraggled woman on the steps.