Chapter Twenty-Seven
Arriving at Mowbray House, Finn admitted to himself that yes, he was impressed.
It felt like a country estate, a beautiful mansion surrounded by trees, lawns and impeccable gardens. And yet it was less than half an hour or so from London’s busiest streets.
Elegant and stately though it was, their welcome was anything but.
“Hecate,” shrieked an attractive woman, running out of the front door to the carriage. It had to be Kitty, since she had the feminine equivalent of Richard Ridlington’s handsome features.
She was followed by a tall gentleman, who would have been impeccably dressed but for the lack of a jacket and the colourful towel over his shoulder. Apparently he’d forgotten it was there.
“Kitty,” exclaimed Hecate, scrambling to get out of the carriage. She nearly tripped in her haste, but both Kitty and Max were there to catch her.
“Careful,” muttered Finn, a bit intimidated by the surroundings and the assurance of Kitty and her husband. The aura of the Ton lingered around them.
Finn was not of the Ton.
“Come inside. Please…” Kitty let Max give Hecate his arm, and held her hand out to Finn. “We’ve been dying for you to arrive so that we could meet you. Richard’s spoken of you so I feel as if/ I know you already.” She linked her arm through his as he dismounted from the carriage, and smiled up at him with such friendliness that any lingering nerves he felt immediately dissipated.
“Did you have a good journey? Were the roads all right? We’ve had some snow, but not much yet. Our nanny says it’s going to be a bad winter, because there are a lot of caterpillars on the ground. Did you ever hear such a thing?”
“Kitty, my love.” Max stood at the door waiting for them to enter. “Give the man a chance to catch his breath?”
Finn smiled. “It’s a fine welcome, and I thank you both for allowing me to stay.”
Hecate rolled her eyes. “Of course they’re allowing us to stay.” She shook her head. “Kitty, Max, this is Finn Casey. My fiancé. And now we’re all formally introduced, I’d like to see my niece?”
Kitty’s mouth had opened in surprise, but she turned it into a grin. “Well, you’ve gone and shocked me to my slippers. But I am so very happy for you…” She flew at Hecate, hugging her fiercely.
Then it was Finn’s turn to be ruthlessly crushed in her embrace.
“Married. By God. Max, did you hear? My baby sister is going to marry this fine man.”
“I heard,” he grinned, rolling his eyes. “So did everyone else in the surrounding acres.” He turned to Finn and Hecate. “You’d better settle in or we’ll be spending your entire visit here in the hall.”
Fortunately, the Seton-Mowbrays weren’t a family that held to a strict timetable, so it was early afternoon when they finally had a chance to sit down together for a late lunch.
Finn knew that Hecate had spent the appropriate amount of time cuddling baby Margaret, but had surrendered her to her Nanny, so that she could nap. Reluctantly, said Hecate, she had done as she was told. But not before a final kiss on the soft skin and a stroke of the hair that looked as if it was going to be as dark as her father’s.
The conversation around the table was general, with Kitty offering the latest London news, and Hecate filling her sister in on Richard and Cressida’s wait for the babies, and the most recent goings-on at Ridlington.
“I haven’t seen Letitia, yet,” she mentioned as they finished their meal. “Are she and James here in town?”
“Yes indeed, and they will be joining us for dinner,” announced Kitty. “As soon as she heard you were coming up, she demanded we get together. Since driving in to London and their townhouse can be a bit challenging this late in the year, we thought it would be nice if they came out here. They’ll stay the night so we have plenty of time to talk.”
“How wonderful,” Hecate clapped her hands. “I so look forward to seeing them again.”
Finn, who had remained silent during most of the meal, wondered how it must feel to have such a large family and to be assured of a welcome at any of their homes.
“All right then, Hecate.” Max leaned back in his chair. “Tell us why you’re here.”
She looked at Finn, then at Max. “I’m not sure if there was any mention of it in the Ridlington messages, Max, and I don’t want to repeat what you already know.” She paused.
Max shook his head. “Very little. Just that you had an urgent reason to come to London and could we put you up.”
“We should, of course, tell you the entire story. But since it’s powerful and distressing, perhaps we should wait until James and Letitia get here? I think both Finn and I would rather tell it only once.”
Finn nodded at Hecate’s suggestion. “I agree. This is a complex situation and we’ll welcome all your suggestions. The lass here has an idea about how to resolve it.” He sighed. “And the less said about that, the better.”
The “lass” narrowed her eyes and shot her fiancé a stern look. “Don’t you suddenly become a bossy Irishman. We discussed this in the carriage, Finn. And you yourself acknowledged the logic of it…”
“I did,” he nodded. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it. And we don’t even know for sure it will work.”
Hecate’s chin rose. “It will work. I know it. So that’s that.”
*~~*~~*
Overjoyed to see Letitia and James again, Hecate did her best to hug them both at once, tears in her eyes as she realised how precious her family was.
They’d come to her rescue when she was close to death and here they were, once again gathering at her side. This time, she had Finn beside her, and as they sat around the dinner table that night, she couldn’t help being proud to be a Ridlington.
The realisation hit her like a mental brick.
Never before had she looked at her family in quite that fashion. She’d always felt a bit of an outsider, and her gifts had fostered that emotion. Although they’d been kind, patient and affectionate in their own way, she knew she was a puzzle to them, no matter how much they accepted her strange talents.
Was it because she had found a love of her own? Had that changed her perspective on life, family and her mystical abilities?
It was true that she used them less, now, since being with Finn produced a very satisfactory magic of its own. And in addition, she’d laid her cane aside. Perhaps Finn’s loving was helping her body heal as well. Whatever the reason, she was walking unaided. Still cautious, she wasn’t about to leap on a horse, or attempt a rousing waltz around the Mowbray House ballroom, but she was nevertheless able to move much better than over the last year or so.
“Will you be requiring anything else, sir? Tea and brandy await you in the parlour.” The impressive butler bowed formally to Max.
“I don’t think so. Thank you, Deery.”
Hecate bit her lip against a grin as the man made his stately way from the room. Then finally, she could hold it no longer. “Dearie? Isn’t that a somewhat overly affectionate way to address your butler?”
Letitia let out a sharp bark of laughter, and James’s gurgle was right on top of it.
Max merely smiled. “It’s his real name. I find it quite enchanting myself, and I tell him so from time to time, which annoys him enormously. One can’t ever get cross with him, can one?”
Kitty pushed her chair back and rose. “Right. Time to adjourn. No brandy and cigars for the gentlemen. We will all indulge ourselves together. I want to hear Finn’s tale.”
“Me too,” added James. “I confess myself very curious about all this, so please don’t keep us on tenterhooks any longer?
Within fifteen minutes, they were all disposed comfortably in the parlour, the fire burning and the flames reflecting prettily off the cut glass decanter.
Sadly, the teapot wasn’t getting much use, since everyone had elected to go straight to the brandy.
“Right then. Where do we start?” Letitia snuggled into the corner of the couch and sipped her liquor.
“At the beginning,” said Hecate. “Finn? If you would…”
He put his glass down on the table, leaned forward, and rested his elbows on his knees. “It began on June the eighteenth, last year. Far away from here, in a battle we’ll always know simply as Waterloo…”
He spoke quietly, his words simple but fluent, painting a vivid picture of what it had been like to fight that day, to be part of the battle lines, to watch men cut down beside him, in front of him…
Those gathered around sat spellbound, neither moving nor speaking until he had finished his tale.
Waiting for a few moments, Hecate picked up the story, relating how DeWitt had cleverly managed to assume the Faversill title, even though the Marchville family had taken him to court.
Finally, James leaned back with a disgusted snort. “I would wager the judge who ruled on that case was in Faversill’s pocket,” he said.
“I wouldn’t take your bet,” nodded Max. “A gross miscarriage of justice.”
“Well, personally, I think hanging, drawing and quartering is too good for that man. He’s…he’s…ahhh, words escape me,” Letitia stormed.
“Good thing you’re not engaged in anything to do with ‘em then, sweetheart. Words, that is,” remarked James with a grin.
His wife shot him what Hecate could only describe as a withering look. She couldn’t resist smiling at the two of them. “I agree, Letitia, but sadly the Crown frowns on that sort of thing these days. We’d have to go back to the Tudors, I think.” She sighed. “I have some odd skills, but when it comes to travelling through time…well that’s beyond even my capabilities.”
“So what are our other options?” Max rose and refilled brandy glasses.
“Face him with it?” Kitty sipped appreciatively.
“We did consider that. It’s the most logical course of action,” exhaled Hecate. “But as you surely understand, it would be only Finn’s word against Faversill’s.”
“And whatever legal personage he could buy for the occasion, I’ll warrant,” added Max, his lip curling in disgust.
The conversation ranged over a variety of suggestions, from the “let’s kidnap him and force him to confess” from Kitty the Bloodthirsty, to the “let’s try to get a few peers on our side to pressure him into doing something for the Marchville’s” idea, which appealed to Max and James.
As the hour drew late, Hecate rose—a little unsteadily since she was holding her third brandy. “Well my dears. My family. I do have a very solid option to propose.” She put the glass down on the table. “Finn is not entranced by the notion, but I firmly believe it will work.”
She looked around at the faces who were so dear to her. Nobody appeared sceptical; they awaited her words with rapt attention.
God, how she loved them all.
Aware the brandy was making her a little too relaxed, she gathered her slowly dissipating wits.
“All right then. Here’s my plan…”