Chapter Twenty-Four
“I’m not sure confronting him is the best way, Finn.” Edmund stroked his chin in thought as he leaned away from the table.
Hecate and Finn had waited until everyone had finished dinner before relating the story of Lord Faversill, Johnny Marchville and the Prussian army’s mistake.
Outrage rippled through the room, Edmund’s jaw firming with disgust, Simon sharing that anger, and the women, Rosaline and Tabitha, looking distraught at the horrid tale.
“How could anyone do such a thing?” said Tabby, shaking her head. “And to go on and be rewarded for it with a title…I thought I’d seen a lot of things over the years, but a cold-blooded murder of this nature—it’s just so far beyond the pale, I cannot comprehend it.”
“I concur,” nodded Simon at his most clerical. “There cannot be any excuse—or salvation—for that man’s actions.”
Hecate smiled at her brother. “I had a feeling you’d say that. There isn’t any way God could forgive such a thing, is there? I know I’m supposed to look for a way to forgive, but this…just no.”
“Did I add I’d cheerfully strangle the man if he were here right now?” Simon grinned. “I’d explain it to the Lord afterward.”
“Bless you, Vicar,” added Finn. “I wish you’d been in front of my church when I was growing up.”
Simon chuckled. “I suppose I am a bit progressive in my thinking.”
“None of us are complaining,” said Edmund. “But I’m still not sure about the best way to bring the man to justice.”
Rosaline nodded. “It’s still going to be his word against Finn’s. And—without meaning to offend, Finn—when it comes to the word of a Lord against that of a Colour Sergeant…”
Hecate echoed her sister-in-law’s concern. “I am forced to agree.”
For some reason, that brought silence to the room. It was as if everyone awaited the next sentence from Hecate.
She looked around at her family. “I have some thoughts about how to proceed.” She bit her bottom lip as she chose her words. “An idea came to me a little while ago, but I have yet to work out the details. I hope you will forgive me for not going any further at this point?”
All eyes were upon her, and she felt both the love from her family and the weight of the task she intended to undertake. “I need to think it through before I can tell you about it.” She looked at Finn. “Even you, Finn. Bear with me. I think it will work, but I must refine the plan.”
He reached out and took the hand she extended to him. “You have my trust, love. Now and always. Tell me when you’re ready, though, promise?”
“Of course. You are a very important part of it, so I’ll have to tell you.”
He grinned. “Oh dear. You’re going to turn me into a frog and put me into Faversill’s boots so I can scare him into heart failure.”
There was a general laugh at this outrageous but not implausible proposal.
“I wouldn’t do that to a frog, let alone you,” smiled Hecate. “But…” she held up her forefinger to make her point, “we do have to go to London. And I need someone with enough presence to bring Lord Faversill into their home or at least get him somewhere where there are other people. Finn has to be there, and in a place where I can see him.”
Various ideas on that theme were bandied around, but the consensus ended up with Kitty and Max.
“James has a plethora of acquaintances throughout the Ton,” said Tabitha, thoughtfully. “But he’s been less prominent since he married Letitia. They go out now and again, but have most likely been dropped from the most influential guest lists.”
“Something James is quite happy about, as a matter of fact. They’ll be coming down here for the Christmas season very soon, and I’m not sure when they’ll leave.” Simon smiled at the notion of his sister’s new life.
Hecate smiled. “I’m very pleased to hear they’re doing so well together.”
“Now Max, on the other hand,” said Rosaline, “he’s still out and about in town, although not so much since little Margaret arrived. But if you want stellar connections, then he’s your man. And I know Kitty will be overjoyed to show off her daughter.”
Hecate took a breath. “I still can’t believe I’m sitting here with you talking of children. It seems only a moment ago we were children ourselves.”
“I’m not sure we ever were, Hecate.” Simon spoke quietly. “Not in the sense that Hugh and Helen are children. We were never allowed free rein to play all over the house, to leave toys wherever we wanted…”
“Or to be loved,” finished Edmund. He looked around, his gaze coming to rest on his wife. “Thankfully, we did learn that after all. Just a lot later than most people.”
“I think that calls for a toast.” Finn picked up his almost empty wine glass and stood, raising it aloft. “To the Ridlingtons, a family that has conquered their past and ensured the very best of futures, not only for themselves but for their descendants.”
Chairs scraped on the floor and other glasses were raised.
“To family.”
*~~*~~*
Later that night, after brandy and tea had been consumed, and conversations had finally ended, Hecate led Finn up several sets of stairs to her very own private space.
She walked in—then smiled broadly, seeing that it had been kept clean and tidy, but untouched since she’d left it several months ago.
“This is it, Finn,” she turned to him. “This is where I grew up.”
He looked around, noting the paintings on the wall, the thick curtains covering not only the windows but some of the surrounding stone, and the assortment of rocks and other bric-a-brac that cluttered the tops of several chests of drawers.
There was one small mirror, and a fair sized bed, covered in the thickest and largest sheepskin he’d ever seen. “I’ll bet that creature provided mutton for half a village,” he observed, running his hand over the soft fronds.
“I don’t know. I inherited it from some long ago Ridlington Chase resident.” She walked to her bookshelf. “I must remember to pack some of these for taking back to Doireann Vale. My favourite stories.” She looked up. “My friends, if you will. I lost myself in these books when I was young. They were my way out.”
He pushed the sheepskin aside and sat on the bed. “You really were a magical princess in a tower, weren’t you?”
She chuckled, running her fingers over familiar surfaces. “I suppose I was, in a way. But I never saw myself as a princess. I read about them, imagined their adventures, but for some reason I never put myself in their place.” She walked slowly to stand in front of him. “I never dreamed of a handsome prince rescuing me. My future was one of those things that I couldn’t quite see as clearly back then…”
She put one hand on his shoulder and with the other she raised his chin. “And I never, ever, could have dreamed of anyone like you, Finn Casey.”
Slowly leaning forward, she kissed him, a sweet touch of the lips that rapidly turned into the fire that she knew would always burn between them.
His arms came up and seized her, lifting her off her feet and swinging her up onto the bed at his side.
“Your prince is staying the night, my Lady,” he whispered as he found her laces and pulled them loose. “I’ve obeyed the proprieties long enough.”
“Indeed you have,” she wriggled as he pulled her dress away from her shoulders and she tried to unfasten his breeches.
His chuckle was rough. “This is fun but frustrating.” He put his feet onto the floor and pulled her up. “Turn around, let’s do this properly.”
Obeying him, she felt that little shimmer of excitement elicited by the touch of his hands on her skin. She was down to her chemise in no time at all, with her dress tossed casually over a chair. Spinning around, she dodged his arms and reached for his clothes. “My turn.”
His jacket joined her dress, his shirt landed on the floor and she had to stop there for a moment, just to run her palms over his chest. He’d filled out so well. This wasn’t the thin, sick Finn Casey she’d brought back to Doireann Vale.
This was the true Finn Casey. Warm skin, muscles showing beneath, lovely copper nipples she had to admire with her fingers for a moment while enjoying his tiny moan of pleasure.
“Finn,” she whispered, letting the urge to taste him take over. Following her instincts, she moved close and ran her tongue over the tiny buds, loving his gasp and the way they hardened even more.
“Siren,” he muttered, pulling off his breeches. “You’ll drive me mad.”
Her hands dropped low and she found him hard, ready for her hands to curve and stroke the silk velvet.
He groaned. “Hecate…”
“I know.” She released him, stepped back and unfastened the ties of her chemise. “I’m here. I’m yours, Finn. Always.”
At that point she knew she had given him the power, and he took it, sweeping her off her feet and into bed in the best tradition of all Handsome Princes.
And continuing in that tradition, he made love to her wildly, joyfully and thoroughly, satisfying them both until they were limp and sated bodies slumped against each other.
“There’s something about this chamber,” he panted, “or maybe it’s the sheepskin…”
“Mmm. So it would seem,” she purred.
“We should see about building one at Doireann Vale.”
Hecate giggled. “I’m not sure about that. We might never come out of it.”
He hugged her close. “I know. Isn’t that a wonderful thought?”