by Sahara Kelly
“I think you’ve been accepted, Finn. But you might want to just rest there a little bit. Let him get used to you being there.”
“Hmm.” Finn tentatively reached out and let Bub sniff his hand, then risked a light stroke around the ears. It was accepted, and the two of them silently enjoyed a moment of companionable petting.
“Perhaps he’s going to not mind me in your bed after all,” Finn observed.
“No, it’s more likely you’ll mind when he sleeps on your feet. As you mentioned, he’s one solid lad.” Hecate grinned.
“If I’m beside you…I shall not worry about Bub.”
She looked at him, his eyes so blue, staring at her with an expression even she could not read. “Good morning, Finn.” She leaned over, obeying an impulse, and kissed him.
Finn’s free hand lifted to her chin and held her in place while he kissed her back most thoroughly. “Good morning to you, Hecate.”
She wanted to stay, to linger over his body, discover all the bits she’d missed last night in the dark. But a glance at the clock showed her that any time soon Winnie would arrive with tea and her day would begin. She sighed.
“Finn…”
“I know.” He sighed too. “Until we have worked everything out, I must leave you.” He gently moved Bub and slipped from the bed, treating Hecate to the sight of a perfect pair of firm male buttocks.
“Oh Finn,” she breathed.
“What?” He recovered his night garments.
“You have the most beautiful bottom.”
To her amazement, he blushed furiously. “Hecate, you…er…I don’t think…”
She chuckled. “My God, you’re embarrassed.”
He shook his head. “I’m about to tiptoe down the hallway to my own room. I hope to do so while avoiding unwanted attention, which will require some level of focus. You have just ripped that completely away. Now all I’ll be doing is thinking of you looking at my arse.”
“Don’t trip. There’s a tear in the carpet fourteen paces away from this door.”
He rolled his eyes, leaned over, kissed her hard and cautiously made his way from the bedchamber.
Hecate rolled onto her back and stretched languorously, ignoring the twinges and aches that she assumed were quite normal in a woman who had finally surrendered her virginity. Bub settled in beside her, curling himself into his preferred circle, and resting his head on his paws, watching his mistress as she yawned and stretched once again.
“Well, Bub. It’s done.” She turned to him, meeting his green-gold gaze. “It’s too late to worry over whether I’ve made a mistake or not. This time my heart was sure, and it led me, not my doubts or my worries.” She sighed. “I’ll tell you a secret, Bub. It was everything I hoped it would be.”
Bub signified his lack of interest by closing his eyes and going to sleep.
“I’ll take that as an endorsement,” she whispered, leaning over and dropping a kiss between his ears. His whiskers twitched, but other than that he didn’t move, obviously accepting the affectionate caress as nothing more than his due.
His presence was a comfort, and she was quite composed by the time Winnie arrived with a cup of tea. Within the hour Hecate was dressed and ready to head down for breakfast.
Lady Augusta, looking relaxed and cheerful, met her as they reached the top of the stairs. She stopped, tilted her head, and stared intensely at Hecate.
“Good morning, Augusta…is everything all right?”
The older woman’s face began to crease into a huge smile. “I think I should be asking you that.”
Hecate, despite her resolution to be quite normally herself this morning, blushed.
“I am so happy for you,” Augusta gave her a huge hug. “Anyone with eyes could see what was happening between you. And, for what it’s worth, I think Finn is just darling, and the perfect man for you.”
“I…er…” Hecate stuttered, trying to say something and failing dismally.
“Not another word, my dear. I do not judge or care for society’s strictures. I do care that the friends I have are happy. And I can see such happiness on your face this morning. You are glowing. However, I shall say no more, since I’m sure you’d prefer to keep your personal matters to yourself.” She hugged her once more. “Just know that I am here, for as long as you will allow me the honour, and I’m always happy to talk. Woman to woman.”
Rather overwhelmed, Hecate mumbled her thanks and let Augusta take her arm as they walked down the stairs.
“And here’s Dal waiting for us,” laughed Augusta. “I would say that makes us very fortunate ladies, wouldn’t you? Such a handsome sight first thing in the morning.”
Hecate noticed two things. The first was that she hadn’t even thought about her cane, but had come downstairs with only the arm of Lady Augusta to hold her steady.
The second was that Dal’s eyes weren’t on her as she descended.
They were on Lady Augusta.
*~~*~~*
Finn hid a chuckle. It would seem the appreciation of bottoms was rampant at Doireann Vale today.
Winnie had brought up a dish of fresh scones and was now standing next to Frank Worsnop at the sideboard. There was little but casual conversation, as befits servants waiting on the family. But Finn didn’t miss the sight of Frank’s hand sliding down the back of Winnie’s dress and pausing to squeeze what was probably also a very fine bottom.
Hecate and Augusta didn’t notice Winnie’s heightened colour as she left the room, passing them with a shy smile meant for the tall lad.
In fact, Finn barely noticed either, since Hecate had entered. He stood, of course, but his gaze remained on that luminous face smiling at him as if he was the most important thing in the world to her. If Augusta and Frank hadn’t been in the room?
She’d have been flat on her back next to the eggs and bacon, with her skirts up around her waist. He would be eating breakfast. Hecate on toast.
Fighting to control the inevitable result of that mental image, he sat down as they joined him, pulling his napkin over the bulge in his breeches. “Good morning, ladies.”
They nodded, and an appropriate conversation ensued, none of which Finn would have remembered if questioned later.
“Mr. Finn, I knows yer likes the paper. One o’ the lads gave me this last night, at the Inn.” He produced a bit of a tattered copy, bearing the insignia of the Times, and dated only two days before.
“Excellent, Frank. Thank you. Miss Hecate likes to keep as up to date as she can, as do I. This is most welcome.”
Hecate nodded over her teacup. “Thank you, Frank. And please thank your friend. It was very kind of him to think of us.”
Finn picked up the paper, and glanced at the ladies. “If I may?”
“Please do,” said Hecate. “If you’re not worried about finding anything shocking, of course. And you absorb information better than I do.” She turned to Augusta. “I tend to skim the news. Which does result in my missing important things now and again.”
Augusta shrugged. “There was a point in my life when the day began with the Times. I’d read it cover to cover, just to find out who was doing what, with whom, to whom…all things that I find I no longer care about.”
Dal came in, bowing politely and pouring himself tea. Finn suddenly realised that at some point he’d begun to share more meals with them all than usual and his dark eyes drifted to Augusta as she watched the tall Indian approach the table.
So that was the way the wind blew. He hid a grin of amusement.
“I tend to agree, Augusta,” Hecate nodded. “Society news is merely gossip dressed up in literary terms. I do like to keep abreast of politics, but even that is a sad waste of time at the moment. Everyone is talking about how badly the country has suffered this year, but nobody has any solid ideas of how to help.”
Dal pulled out a chair and put his cup on the table, seating himself with a slight smile. “You know what Aesop said, Miss Hecate. After all is said and done, more is sa
id than done. Or something like that.”
“Very astute,” agreed Augusta.
The conversation continued, an easy interaction between friends. Until he read a short paragraph that elicited a loud and explosive oath.
Hecate leaned over and touched his sleeve. “Finn, what on earth is it this time…?”
He put the newspaper down in front of him, and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Damn Lord Aubrey Faversill to the Devil and back.”
“Again? What’s he been up to now? Bought more winning horses at Newmarket?” Hecate tipped her head to one side as she asked the casual question.
“No,” said Finn, anger thickening his voice. “There’s a legal notice posted here. It caught my eye since it’s about the Faversill estate which has…wait, let me read it.” He picked up the offending sheet. “Here it is. Messrs. Halliwell and Stitchbury are pleased to confirm that the Faversill estate matter has reached a conclusion in favour of the current holder of the title. Lord Aubrey Faversill is now granted free and clear access to all Faversill assets. The suit brought by a Mrs. Sylvia Marchville on behalf of her young son Steven, has been ruled as invalid due to the lack of documentation verifying his position within the entitlement, and the boy’s tender age.”
He took a shaky breath as he raised his head and looked at Hecate, Augusta and Dal. “Do you realise what this means?”
Silence greeted his question.
“It means that Johnny Marchville was the true heir to the Faversill estate. That’s why Aubrey DeWitt shot a brave lad in the back during the battle of Waterloo.” His lips twisted into a moue of disgust. “It was all about the damned money. Johnny lost his life for a bloody title.”
“Dear God,” muttered Augusta. “Sometimes people still have the power to disgust me.”
“Shameful. Just shameful,” murmured Dal.
Hecate folded her napkin and placed it on the table. “So, Finn, what are we going to do about it?”
He looked at her. “What do you mean?”
She raised her eyebrows. “This man, this usurper, has killed, and now apparently defrauded a young man—a child perhaps—of his rightful title. That is not right and must not be allowed. So I ask again. What are we going to do about it?”
He blinked. “I don’t know.”
“Well then,” she continued, “let’s think of something.”
Chapter Twenty
Later that morning, Finn, still fighting his anger, apologised to everyone but refused to come to lunch. He needed to think, to breathe and to work off the fury that had swamped him as the truth of the Marchville business pretty much boxed his ears.
Hecate nodded, her eyes worried, but understanding his emotional state. “Go. Walk. Perhaps some ideas might come to you.”
“Thank you,” he answered, from the bottom of his heart. To know he wasn’t going to be questioned, or patted on the shoulder, or told everything was going to be all right…well, it mattered that others understood. It mattered that she understood.
Just one more thing on his list of reasons why Hecate is perfect for me.
Wrapping himself in his cloak, he left Doireann Vale, striding down the drive and onto the lane that led north—to the sea.
It was grey and brisk, but neither raining nor snowing at the moment so, grateful for that at least, Finn set out at a good pace, walking between hedgerows of dry bushes and past trees whose bare branches made stark patterns against the sky.
Before too long, the harsh cries of seagulls could be heard, and the country lad inside him knew that a storm at sea was likely. Gulls could tell before anyone else, except the odd sailor or two, and flew inland further than usual if bad weather was imminent.
Sure enough, within half an hour, Finn reached the clifftop and looked out onto a sea that could best be described as ugly.
The clouds were low, blurring the horizon, and waves tumbled and crashed in clouds of grey and white spume against the rocks and the scant beach below. The ocean heaved, throwing up waves that looked large to Finn, but must have looked like small mountains from the shoreline. Plumes of spray blew from their tops, adding to the fury that boiled beneath his gaze.
A shudder hit him, and he moved to the bench set by some large stones. Sitting, he put his head in his hands and closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the water lashing the rocks below.
Somewhere out there, across the turbulence, lay his homeland.
Ireland.
He knew now the devastation that famine and disease had caused, and once more the realisation of how much he’d lost shook him. The return of his memories brought more than just the facts about his life and his escape from the prison ship. It had brought back the moment he’d learned his mother had died…that there was barely anything left now in Ahane, or anywhere else in Ireland for that matter. He had no idea what had happened to his father’s family in Derrynane, and made a mental note to himself to at least write and let them know he was still alive.
Yet although sorrow slid through his body like a slow and mournful river, at the back of his mind lurked Hecate’s words. “You have a new family here at Doireann Vale.”
He wanted desperately to believe her. To know that Dal and Augusta and Hecate herself, not to mention Bub, viewed themselves as his family and would always welcome him.
There was one way to ensure it, of course.
He could do what he had thought about, dreamed about and yearned to do. He could go down on one knee and ask Hecate to marry him.
But…as always happened when that thought crossed his mind, he came up short against the wall that bore the words Nothing To Offer Her.
He was penniless, homeless, and the only skill he knew was soldiering. What kind of man asked a woman like Hecate, a magic-filled mystery who was also the daughter of a baron, to marry him?
He would have to live off her money. Many men would have been happy to do just that, but Finn wasn’t one of them.
It couldn’t possibly work. And that was the conclusion that depressed him most of all.
He fought his way past it, and turned to consider the issue of the new Lord Faversill. The unconscionable act of shooting a fellow officer, in the back no less, reduced his Lordship to little better than the mud beneath his boots. Finn wished he knew how to gnash his teeth, because this was certainly a moment when gnashing would have come in handy.
Restless, he rose from the bench, took a last look at the sea, and turned for home.
Home. Doireann Vale.
So far away from the hell that had been Waterloo, and yet still suffering the after-effects. Unlike Aubrey DeWitt, who was enjoying the spoils of war. The ones he’d made certain would be his.
What could they do about it? For it was wrong. Terribly wrong. And wrongs, in Finn’s book, should be righted if at all possible. But being tucked away in a tiny Devon estate, lovely though it was, offered little hope that any righting of wrongs could be accomplished from here.
One would have to be where Lord Faversill was, at least. Even then it would be Finn’s word against his Lordship’s. But if he were to show up in London…to let Faversill see him…
His step quickened as he headed back to the house, ideas pushing each other around inside his mind. One thread ran through all of them, and as he tossed his cloak on a chair in the hall and hurried into the small parlour, he saw three faces turn toward him.
“We have to go to…”
“London.” Hecate finished his sentence with a grin. “Yes. Yes, we do.”
“How…” his jaw dropped and his mind blanked, leaving him speechless.
“Never mind that,” she waved it away. “First we have to visit Richard, and then Ridlington Chase. After that, it’s on to London, where we shall put an end to that imposter’s claim to the Faversill estate.”
“Uh…” Bereft of words, Finn simply stared at Hecate, wondering if he could ever love her more than he did that minute.
*~~*~~*
As soon as the decision was made, the Doireann Va
le household leapt into action.
Well, some of the residents leapt into action, others scratched their heads and wondered if their mistress had completely lost her mind.
“It’s not a good time of the year to travel, Miss Hecate,” said Dal sombrely. “The roads, it’s already snowed…you have no idea what kind of weather you’ll drive into…”
“I know that, Dal. Truly.” Hecate’s response was placid. She had determined on the way forward, and all her senses were approving it. She was doing the right thing. However, she remained quiet for a moment and watched her friend as he paced around the room.
Opening her mind, she allowed herself to see his emotions, swirling around him in shades of greens and blues. Indecision. Confusion. Uncertainty. Good God. He didn’t want to leave.
It hit her so clearly she almost gasped. Why hadn’t she seen it before? That question was simple to answer. She was so wrapped up in Finn that she’d failed to see what else was happening around her. Within moments she had formed a stratagem she hoped would help ease his mind.
“Dal, I do need to ask a favour of you. And I hope you’ll agree…” She framed her next words carefully. “You know how much I love Doireann Vale. This house has come to mean so much to me. A home of my very own, with friends and acquaintances, like a garden that is just beginning to flower.”
He nodded. “I do indeed. It has become home to me also.”
“I’m glad,” she smiled. “This trip I must make with Finn…and please believe me, I must make it, Dal—since everything I trust is telling me it’s right—this trip will leave Doireann Vale without a protector.” She took a breath. “Unless you would be kind enough to stay and look after it for me.” Dal’s quick glance at her did not go unnoticed. “Of course, I hope that Lady Augusta will remain here as well, since I believe she is not interested in returning to the Metropolis. I haven’t discussed it with her yet, but should the two of you be here in my absence…well, I cannot begin to tell you how much worry that would lift from my shoulders.”
He was silent for long moments.
Then he met her gaze. “You would travel without me at your side?”
