Chapter Seventeen
“Oh Bub. What now?”
Hecate slipped from her bed and walked to the door, where the cat was sitting and staring at her after meowing imperiously. “You just came in. And now you want to go out?”
He gave her his best of course. I’m a cat look.
She sighed, opened the door and then closed it again as he slipped through, a sleek black shadow vanishing in the darkness of the hall outside. She liked the comfort of his weight around her feet, but if he decided he wanted more, it got a bit uncomfortable, especially if he lay across her legs, pinning her to the mattress.
Restless, she walked across her room to the window, grabbing a shawl from the chair and wrapping it around her shoulders. Pulling the curtains aside, she stared out across the fields, realising that it must have started to snow sometime before. Everything was white, with the exception of some of the lower shrubs and under-branches of the fir trees.
It was magical, of course. There was nothing like snow to change one’s outlook on the world, since the pristine layer turned lanes into ribbons, fields into white blankets, and forests into strange and wonderful shapes.
She loved snow, but on this night her thoughts were elsewhere.
Hard questions thumped her brain endlessly. Questions about Finn, her emotions, his feelings…where was it all going?
Although Lady Augusta had become a friend, Hecate was hesitant to use her as a sounding board when it came to this particular matter. Always private, Hecate knew she could not discuss her dilemma openly with her, and thought it likely she’d be given advice based on her—Augusta’s—experience.
Given the lady’s previous notoriety in the Ton, it would not be a good match for the naive and cautious Hecate.
But the problem of Finn remained.
He filled her thoughts too often, brought light into her presence when he walked to her side, and when they touched? It was a sizzle unlike anything she’d experienced.
Her meditations, her talents, all the things that made her Hecate…seemed to have diminished in importance next to seeing Finn’s smile and hearing his voice. Even Bub was less of a companion and more of a casual visitor these days.
Her breath made little foggy circles on the cold glass as she stood at the window, and finally she shivered, drawing the curtains closed again, turning away and reaching for another log to bank up her fire for the night.
A knock on the door made her jump, and the log fell from her hands with a thud.
The door swung open and Finn’s head appeared around the edge. “Are you all right?” He saw her struggling with the log and came into the room, closing the door and walking to her side. “Let me.”
“Thank you,” she said, rubbing her hip and watching him efficiently stoke up a small blaze. “Dratted thing dropped and I bent at the wrong angle.”
He stood and looked at her. “Are you sure you’re all right? Bub was crying outside my door, and the first thing I thought of was that you were in trouble.”
He wore an old dressing gown that he’d procured from somewhere and a night shirt that was too short. It revealed firm legs and bare toes. His hair was mussed, and if Hecate had had a spoon nearby, she would have devoured him from spiky curls to naked feet.
“I’m fine, really.” The warmth from the fire took away her earlier chill. “I apologise for Bub. I just let him out of here a few minutes ago. He has no business rousing you from your sleep. I shall have a strong word with him.”
Finn shook his head. “I didn’t mind. I couldn’t sleep, anyway.” He gazed out of the window. “My family. Everyone gone, Hecate. It was…a horrid memory, but I know now I couldn’t have done anything to stop it.”
“You couldn’t,” she agreed. “Like so many, you lost what was most precious to you.” Her voice was gentle and soothing. “But you can honour their memory by living the best life you can. And keep in mind, you have a new family, now, here at Doireann Vale.
Unshed tears glittered in his eyes as he nodded. “In that, I’m blessed indeed.” He noticed her still moving her hand over her hip. “But you’re in pain. And don’t argue, I can see it.” He frowned. “Here. Get into bed and give me that shawl.”
She blinked.
“Go on. Do as your told.”
She huffed. “Well, yes sir. Whatever you say, sir.” Obediently she moved to the bed, admitting she was glad to get off her feet and ease the twinges.
He pulled a chair close to the fire and hung her shawl over it, and she realised he was warming it.
“My Gran did this years ago when my Grandad hurt his back. I do remember thinking what a good idea it was and sometimes she’d warm a bit of cloth for me too, just so I could be like Grandad.”
He smiled as he told her the story and she smiled back. Given all the bad memories he’d been hit with, at least this was a good one.
Within moments he was beside the bed. “Turn over. Lie on your stomach, Hecate. This will help you feel better.”
Carefully, she did as she was told.
Then screeched as he pulled up her nightgown on one side and bared one entire leg and half her backside to his gaze.
“Finn…”
*~~*~~*
“Hush,” said Finn, placing the hot wool on her leg and buttock. Her very lovely, curvaceous, white buttock. The one he’d like to sink his teeth into, and one of a matched set he could almost feel filling his hands as he sank himself into the heat between her legs.
He gulped. This might not have been a good idea. He wanted to help, but it might well be at the cost of his control.
“Finn…” Hecate groaned. “That feels sooo good.”
All right then. It’s eased her pain. I can die a happy man—a victim of unfulfilled lust.
Her body relaxed, visibly, and he could see the lingering remnants of criss crossing scars down the outside of her thigh. Gently he brushed his fingertip over them. “It was bad, wasn’t it?”
She took a breath. “Yes, yes it was.”
“A carriage accident, I believe you said?” He continued to stroke the soft marred skin.
“Yes.” Her body moved a little and she turned her head toward him on the pillow. He couldn’t meet her gaze, but her eyes were open.
“I’m sorry.” What else was there to say?
“It was my fault.” She swallowed. “I was a fool to believe a man whose words were lies. I’d plead youth and naïveté, and those played a role, but of all people, I should have known better.”
“Your instincts failed you?”
“I never asked them,” she replied, a dry note in her voice. “I persuaded myself I was in love. That all his whispered promises and endearments were true. I wanted to believe it…I wanted to have the same things my family were finding at last. The right person, the right mate. A love for life.”
Finn eased his hip down on the bed beside her, liking that she wriggled a little and made room for him. It was so natural, so easy to talk with her. This time it was her turn to talk, and his to listen.
“Can you tell me what happened, Hecate?” It wasn’t just curiosity on his part, although a good measure of it was lurking in his brain. Finn genuinely wanted to know how she’d been so badly hurt. And how she’d survived.
“It was at a ball,” she began. “London affairs are somewhat complex and chaotic, as you know, especially if it’s a crush. This one was. He…he asked me to marry him under the stars in the garden, as romantic a site as you could imagine.”
She laughed, a harsh sound of self-loathing. “And I believed him. Believed all of it. He said his overwhelming love for me could not be contained; he hadn’t even bought a ring yet, but seeing me there, in the moonlight, just precipitated his emotional declaration.”
“It must have been quite an experience for you.” Finn kept his voice noncommittal.
“It was,” she nodded. “Of course I was swept away. He had a carriage at his disposal, he said. And before I knew it, we were away on the road North.” She made an odd sound, between a grunt and a groan. “How could I have been so stupid?”
“Stop, sweetheart.” The endearment slipped out without Finn realising it. “Stop. The past is over. Gone. If telling it is bringing it back, then don’t go on. Let’s speak of other things.”
“No, it’s all right.” She sighed. “And you’re correct. The past is indeed gone. Truly, there is little more to tell. Our carriage wasn’t as reliable as he’d thought. In fact, it had been sabotaged, on the orders of the very man who sat next to me. Just another example of his utter stupidity. So when the horses picked up speed, we rattled around an awful lot. He was angry because he had just begun to kiss me.”
She shivered.
Finn clenched his teeth.
“I didn’t like that. Nor did I like the way he thrust his hands beneath my skirts. At that point I could smell the brandy on his breath, and the realisation set in that I was in trouble.” She paused. “A bit late, I’ll grant you, but at least I came to my senses. And then lost them when the wheel hit a rock, shattered, and the carriage ended up God knows where. I don’t remember anything else.”
“And the man? Killed, I believe?”
“Yes.”
The room fell silent other than a few cracks and pops from the log on the fire.
“It’s funny,” said Hecate after a moment or two. “I can barely remember his face. And I do feel sorry for him, because his death was mostly the result of his own greed. And his lust for me.”
“Lusting for a beautiful woman should never lead to one’s death, love,” soothed Finn. “If it did, you’d be walking over corpses every time you took a stroll down Bond Street.”
She laughed, a genuine and warm chuckle that made him smile. “You’re quite right.”
“And now you’re walking here and there sometimes without your cane. Have you noticed?” Finn went back to stroking her leg, this time rubbing her calf from her ankle to her knee.
“I didn’t at first,” she admitted. “It wasn’t until I realised that I had moved without bringing my cane with me, that it dawned on me. So much has been happening…I suppose my focus had been shifted to other matters, and I simply forgot. It turned out to be a good thing.”
“All your visitors disturbing your tranquillity…” He allowed his hand to slide a little higher on the inside of her thigh.
“Yes,” she gulped. “Um…Finn?”
“Yes?”
“Can I tell you something?”
“Of course, love.”
“I like what you’re doing.”