Chapter Twenty-Six
‘We’ll be off first thing,” said Finn as he undressed that night in Hecate’s tower room.
She sighed. “It will be sad to say goodbye.” She folded her gown carefully, and tucked one or two more things into her valise for the journey.
“You’ll miss them.” It was a statement.
“Of course.” She nodded. “But that is offset by the pleasure I find in Doireann Vale. I miss that too. And Dal and Augusta and the others.”
He smiled as he slipped beneath the blankets. “You are lucky to have people to miss, Hecate. The ones I miss the most are gone forever.”
She looked at her nightgown, and then at what she could see of Finn’s shoulders, bare against the pillows. She tossed the garment into her case, then hurried to join him, tucking herself into his side. “You have me now.”
“I do indeed,” he pulled her into his arms. “But you know what I mean.”
“I do, Finn. I truly do.”
“I spent some time with Edmund this afternoon. I asked if he’d be kind enough to send a letter over to Ireland for me. The last remaining relatives I might have—and I’m not sure if I even have them anymore—are from the Casey side of the family. In Derrynane. I thought it only right to see if any were left.”
“You did the right thing,” approved Hecate. “I would be the first to encourage you to find out. After all, just look around you here at Ridlington. Family is so important.”
“Edmund has given us his blessing.”
She eased back a little and stared at Finn. “He has? When? He didn’t say anything to me…”
“It was a discussion between men, Hecate.”
“Involving my marrying you. I fail to see why I wasn’t included.” She sounded irate.
Visions of itches swam through Finn’s mind. “Did you really give your siblings rashes?”
She snuggled back into him. “Of course not. What a thing to say.” She was quiet for a moment or two. “Well, maybe not a rash, as such, just an itch here or there.” She chuckled. “I’d forgotten about that.”
“Your brother hasn’t,” observed Finn. “There was something else he didn’t forget either.” He reached out to his jacket which lay across the table by the bed. “Here.” He passed her the small box.
She pushed herself up a little, and moved the box into the light. “What’s this?”
“Open it and see.”
She did. And sucked in a breath of air that nearly choked her. “Finn…”
“It was your mother’s, Hecate. It was Moira’s.” He took it out of the box. “Rosaline found it a while ago and they’ve been holding on to it until you came back to visit. Edmund allowed me the honour of returning it to you.”
“Oh…I…” Tears filled her eyes.
“I think your brother senses how I feel about not being able to buy you a ring, love.” A thread of distress wove through his words. “I have nothing to offer you but myself. And for a man, that’s a damn hard thing to say.”
“But for a woman, it’s the best thing she could ever hear,” Hecate leaned into him. “Put the ring on my finger, Finn. Let my mother’s jewel bind us together. It makes her a part of this, a part of us, don’t you see? You knew her before I did. It’s just…right.”
Finn slid the ring onto Hecate’s left hand, where it rested as if it had been made for her.
She moved it, letting the light dance through the stone. “What kind of gem is it? I’ve never seen the like,” she whispered.
“Edmund believes it’s some kind of topaz. Apparently on one of his voyages he sailed to Russia and was briefly treated to a glimpse of some of those incredible jewels we hear about. He saw a tiara made from a similar stone and was told it was topaz. He had believed it to be sapphire, but was corrected. Quite rudely, he told me.”
Hecate chuckled. “Yes, I can’t see Edmund liking that sort of conversation at all. He doesn’t mind being wrong, but he would prefer to correct himself, not have someone do it for him.”
“Well, I am in his debt, so you can be sure I won’t be correcting him any time soon. About anything.” Finn sighed and leaned back down on the pillow. “We have his blessing, and now we have your ring. And a new memory of your mama that will be always with us.”
She sighed happily and snuggled in against his warmth. “So all that’s left is to take care of the Faversill matter, and then we’ll be on our way home.”
“Any ideas on that? I know you’ve been thinking about it a lot,” said Finn.
“A few.”
“Any you’d care to share?” He turned to look at her.
She looked back, then moved even closer, her arm sliding around his neck, her leg lifting to rest on his hip. “Later,” she murmured, her body moving languorously against his.
“All right,” he sighed. “Later…”
And after she had loved him with her hands, her mouth and her body, and then straddled him, taking him deep inside and riding him slowly to the point of madness, they collapsed next to each other, sated once more.
“Will it always be like this?” she panted.
“Yes,” he groaned. “Always. Perhaps even better…”
“Impossible.” Rolling to one side she tucked her buttocks into Finn, encouraging him to hold her, spooned into her favourite position for sleeping.
“Nothing’s impossible for us, love,” he mumbled into her neck.
She was silent until she heard his breathing deepen and knew he slept. “That’s what I’m counting on, my darling Finn.”
*~~*~~*
Saying their farewells was difficult for Hecate. She knew it had been a momentous visit, although a short one. Finn had been officially accepted, she had her mother’s ring on her finger, and any doubts she’d had about her family standing behind her decisions…well, those had faded into nothingness.
There was a catch in the breath she drew as the carriage rolled away from Ridlington Chase.
Finn heard it. “We’ll be back, love. Never doubt it.”
“I know,” she nodded. “And it’s time to look forward now. To London and what we must do.”
“You’re sure that your sister and her husband won’t mind us staying?”
Hecate snorted. “Finn, Max Seton-Mowbray could settle the nation’s debts in one fell swoop if he felt so inclined.”
Finn raised an eyebrow.
“All right, maybe not all the debts, but he is certainly comfortably situated. Mowbray House, I’m told, has almost as many rooms as Carlton House, so I don’t think there’s any fear of us all tripping over each other.”
“And then?” He looked out of the window, but she could tell his thoughts were not on the passing scenery. “What do we do then? Do we find Faversill and corner him? Tell him I saw what he did?”
“He’d laugh at you, wouldn’t he?” she said sadly. “He believes all the cards are in his hands now. He thinks he’s infallible.”
Finn’s hands clenched into fists. “He’s not.”
“No, he isn’t. But much as I know you’d like to corner him in some remote London alley, that’s not the way. Too many questions would be asked if a man of his stature and position in Society was murdered by unknown assassins. That’s the stuff of gossip and innuendo.” She touched his fist. “And the first people the authorities would question would be the Marchvilles, since the lad could still be next in line to inherit.”
“We should find that out,” said Finn. “That’s an excellent point. Even if we do manage to destroy him in some way—” he unclenched his fingers and turned his hand to grasp hers, “without violence, we have to make sure that the right family inherits their rightful title and estate.”
“Yes, we don’t want everything going to a distant DeWitt.”
Finn leaned back in the carriage. “You have an idea, don’t you?”
She turned and glanced at him. “What makes you say that?”
“Just a feeling.” He met her gaze with smiling eyes. “I get them quite a bit around you.”
“Really? You do?” she teased. “And what kind of feelings might those be, Mr. Casey?”
“These kind, Miss Ridlington.”
He moved close, and began whispering in her ear all the exciting things he wanted to do to and with her. By the time he’d finished, Hecate was aware that she had drops of sweat on her forehead, and other places were just as damp.
She swallowed. “Goodness. I…er….blindfold?”
He nodded. “But of course, I wouldn’t dream of actually doing any of these things with a woman who doesn’t trust me enough to share her innermost thoughts. And ideas…”
“You rogue,” chuckled Hecate. “I should turn you into a toad for that.”
Finn roared with delighted laughter. “That’s my witch.”
She waited for him to settle. “Well, now you come to mention it, there are no toads or brooms involved, but my plan for Faversill’s downfall may seem a bit out-of-the-ordinary…I’m going to need a portrait of Johnny Marchville…”
And she finally told him her idea.