Heart in Hiding (The Six Pearls of Baron Ridlington Book 6)

by Sahara Kelly

  James was welcoming everyone to his home and offering refreshment for after the talk. Then he touched on the topic and introduced Perry.

  Hecate saw a door open and close and then Finn was there, ready, just out of sight of anyone in the room. If he took a step forward, however, the person standing at the desk would be able to see him. The candles were on the other side of the library and the chandeliers at either end. So although it was well lit, the doorway was shadowed. If all the hall candles had been lit, then there would have been bright light everywhere.

  But not tonight. This particular night needed those shadows.

  Perry was winding up his introduction. “So thank you all for bringing your interest, your knowledge and your experience to this discussion, gentlemen. I’m sure it will be a stimulating evening for all of us.” He looked at his notes. “I think we should ask Lord Faversill to kick things off, don’t you? He’s a decorated Waterloo veteran, and is now building what might well become the best stud in the country. So I can’t think of anyone better qualified…Lord Faversill? If you would be so kind…”

  Hecate envisioned the man standing up with a chest like a pouter pigeon, striding to the desk and harrumphing. She could actually hear him clearing his throat.

  But before he could speak, Perry asked a question.

  “Waterloo, Lord Faversill. Could you start with a word or two about the battle? I’m sure we’d all appreciate your reminiscences…”

  “Oh…I…er well, all right.”

  Faversill’s voice was as bland as could be; he launched into a recital that sounded so smooth it didn’t take any of Hecate’s extra abilities to decide it had been carefully rehearsed.

  But then James stopped him and asked a question…and then another, touching upon the artillery and the response of their mounts to the sound.

  Faversill blustered a little on that one, floundering for generalities wherever possible.

  Yes, they’re rattling him.

  One of the other guests also asked about the artillery, unwittingly leading the conversation even further down the desired path.

  At last Max asked about the Prussians. “And you were right there, weren’t you? At least from what I heard, Lord Faversill, your men were fired upon by mistake. You must have been distraught, the guns, the noise, seeing your men falling around you…”

  “I…stop…no…I can’t…”

  The man was now beside himself, stuttering, unable to finish a sentence.

  “Shooting everywhere…so many dead around you, my Lord, and by the hands of your allies. Why you might just as well have shot your men yourself…” Perry delivered the final blow.

  Finn stepped forward, the buttons on his borrowed uniform gleaming dully in the low light, knowing that he was in the shadows and the only man who could see him was Faversill, standing behind the desk and in the perfect position to look out the door.

  Hecate picked up the little picture she’d held in her lap, looked once more at the young man’s face, and then stared at Finn, pulling on forces within her to affect a transformation so stunning…

  “No…no…no…Jesus Christ…”

  She held her focus in spite of the shrill scream from Faversill.

  “It can’t be you… You’re dead…”

  Hecate continued to maintain the illusion, knowing that instead of Finn, Faversill was seeing Johnny Marchville. Or perhaps he thought it was his ghost. She clenched her teeth, drawing on every ounce of energy she could summon.

  “You can’t be here, Marchville…I shot you, dammit. I saw you fall…I killed you.” Faversill cried out the words and they echoed throughout the hall.

  Hecate added a final touch—a bloom of blood on the front of the uniform. She hoped it would suffice because her vision was blurring now…

  “No, no, no, nooooo…” The scream rang through the house.

  There was a sudden sound—voices shouting—a massive crash...and then silence.

  Hecate slumped in her chair, releasing the vision, letting go of the illusion that had turned Finn Casey into Johnny Marchville’s likeness.

  It was done.

  *~~*~~*

  “Hecate, can you hear me?” Finn was beside himself with terror. “Hecate…”

  He’d felt the transformation, like thick jelly sliding all over his face. It was the strangest sensation, but thankfully he didn’t have to endure it for too long.

  As soon as it was over, he rushed to her side, but she was still, unmoving, sprawled awkwardly in the chair.

  “Up here, Finn. Bring her upstairs.” Letitia shouted down over the bannister.

  He did as he was bid, picking her up and carrying her to Letitia who showed him into a guest room. “On the bed with her.”

  “She’s alive. I can feel her breathing,” he stuttered, “she’s alive, Letitia.”

  “I know, dear. Just put her down and we’ll see what’s going on.”

  The practicality in her tone eased Finn’s mind a little and he obeyed, staying close as Letitia made her sister comfortable.

  “Not that I know much about these things, but her pulse is strong, so I would guess she’d just flat out drained herself.”

  “I was afraid of this,” whispered Finn, stroking Hecate’s hair. “So afraid.”

  There was a bustle at the door and Kitty ran in, followed by James and Max.

  “How is she?” Kitty hurried to the bed and stood beside Finn.

  “She’s unconscious right now,” said Letitia. “But she has a good pulse, and colour in her cheeks. We won’t know much more until she wakes up.”

  “Hecate love. Please. You saved me. Don’t leave me now.” Finn leaned over and dropped a kiss on her lips.

  Kitty sniffed, and Letitia turned away, not wishing to intrude on such an intimate moment.

  “Don’t fuss, Finn.”

  The faint sound of Hecate’s voice made them all jump.

  Which was followed by whispers, shouts, screams and a well-hidden tear or two.

  “I was rather tired,” said Hecate, trying to struggle up against the pillows.

  Finn was there, helping her, his hands on her shoulders, her arms, her face. “You’re alive. Oh sweet Jesus Christ, Mother Mary and Saint Polycarp…thank you all.”

  Max opened his mouth, but a look from Kitty shut it again.

  “James,” said Hecate, accepting a glass of water from Letitia. “What happened?”

  “Please tell us,” begged Kitty. “We were busy with Hecate here. We did hear a crash though…”

  James gave a little shudder, which Finn realised was genuine.

  “I have to say that was the strangest experience,” he began. “You all heard Faversill begin his lecture, and how we turned the conversation to Waterloo?”

  “We did,” nodded Letitia. “That was really well done of you.”

  “Thank you,” said a voice from the doorway. “I shall take credit for that idea.” Perry strolled in. “How’s our miracle worker?”

  “She’s fine now,” beamed Finn. “Tired herself out though, she did.”

  “I can imagine. I want that conversation with you even more now, Hecate.”

  She smiled. “You shall have it, sir. And not just as repayment for this evening, although I can see where that might be necessary. But please…can you finish the story?”

  Perry nodded. “He was wound up quite tightly by the time our late lamented Johnny made his appearance.” He glanced at Finn. “I could only see you from the side, but the transformation was quite astounding, even from that vantage point.”

  “It worked, sir. That was the crucial test. Faversill believed it was Johnny.”

  “Indeed he did,” continued Perry. “It was more than enough to push him into making some very unwise statements, none of which were taken well by our other guests. The crime that man committed was inexcusable to any man with military service in his past. I could feel the horror and disgust rise in the room as Faversill admitted what he’d done.”

  �
�So what will happen to him now?” Letitia looked up.

  “Nothing we need worry about,” answered James. “The shock of seeing Marchville sent him reeling. Literally. He couldn’t run through the door because you were there, so he ran for the window. Actually he ran through the window.”

  “He didn’t know the house at all,” added Max. “Which was quite a shame.”

  It was left to Perry to deliver the final details.

  “He smashed through the glass onto the snow covered slabs of the balcony and his momentum had him skidding right into the parapet. Unfortunately, he couldn’t stop himself. Over he went.” He paused dramatically. “He didn’t know there was a terrace underneath.”

  “Oh dear,” said Kitty. “That must have left rather a mess, wouldn’t you think?”

  Max nodded. “I’m sure it did. But I still have one question.”

  Everyone looked at him.

  “Who the blazes is Saint Polycarp?”

  Chapter Thirty

  After all the excitement had died down, and Hecate had recovered enough to make her way downstairs on Finn’s arm, it was decided they’d gather in Letitia’s parlour.

  The door to the library was closed tightly and even now, a couple of footmen were inside nailing boards over the shattered window. The distant banging was a reminder of the events of this night. Nobody wanted to look out onto the terrace.

  The authorities had been summoned, informed of the accident that had sadly taken the life of Lord Aubrey Faversill, and had removed his mortal remains.

  It had taken almost two hours to reach this point, and everyone was feeling the after-effects of their experiences.

  “What now, d’you think?” asked Kitty, leaning against Max.

  Perry took a healthy swallow of his favourite Scotch whiskey. “If I’m any judge of people, and I like to think that I am, this story will be all over town by this time tomorrow. Not the death of Faversill, but the confession he made beforehand.”

  “Agreed,” nodded James. “Our guests have seen death before, in many guises. But the notion that a commanding officer could shoot one of his men in the back…well, that is untenable. And we didn’t even have to suggest a reason for it. They were immediately aware of why he’d done it. Apparently he’d made a lot of fuss about his accession to the title.” Perry sighed. “He really was the most appalling man, wasn’t he?”

  “I can’t help feeling I drove him to his death,” murmured Hecate. “I swore never to use my gifts for anything other than good. Truly. And yet tonight…what have I done?” She reached for Finn’s hand, knowing his warmth would comfort her.

  “You did not drive him to his death, Miss Hecate.” Perry gave her a stern gaze. “You helped show him evidence of his wrongdoing. It was his conscience that drove him to his death.” He frowned. “Well, that and the large amount of port he must have consumed to develop such a paunch.”

  Max’s lips twitched. “So we blame liquor and gravity?”

  “I prefer to blame the weather,” said James thoughtfully. “After all, the snow did make the balcony rather slippery…”

  “And when someone with a more than a passing resemblance to a cannonball hit that slick stone…”

  “Oh stop, gentlemen, please.” Kitty held her hands over her ears, trying desperately not to laugh. “This is terribly unseemly.”

  “You’re absolutely right, darling.” James nodded.

  “Quite so, Letitia.” Max agreed.

  “Absolutely, my dear.” Perry swallowed.

  “Well I think it’s bloody terrific,” grinned Finn.

  And everyone burst into inappropriate but genuine laughter.

  It was a release, thought Hecate as she joined them. They’d been strung so tightly, unsure if her plan would work, and even if it did, what might it lead to… Now it was all done, tied up with an effective, if rather unpleasant, bow.

  All that remained was for the authorities to make sure the Faversill estate reverted to the Marchville family, as it had been intended all along, and that would be out of their hands.

  *~~*~~*

  Hecate and Finn decided to take advantage of James’s offer of a ride down to Ridlington. He and Letitia were heading to FitzArden House for a month or two, where they could relax, spend time with the family and if they were lucky, get a visit from Paul and Harriet.

  Hecate was pleased to learn that they were also doing well, even though Paul chafed a little at his new title of Viscount Purlieu.

  It seemed as though the entire family had successfully turned a very large corner after the old Baron’s death. They were all now headed onto a road that led to happiness, fulfilment and many of the other things that indicated a life well-lived.

  Passing time in the carriage with James and Letitia was no problem at all, since James and Finn shared a liking for very bad jests, long, drawn-stories that were completely fictitious and outdoing each other at their knowledge of useless bits of information.

  The ladies rolled their eyes, but laughed anyway, and Hecate was almost sad to see Ridlington Chase, since she’d laughed so hard she’d given herself a stitch.

  Once indoors, they had to recount the adventure once again for Edmund and Rosaline, and then for a final time when Tabby and Simon joined them for dinner.

  It was a joyous interlude, and when Hecate and Finn finally retired for the night, closing themselves away in the tower chamber, they were still smiling.

  She groaned as she leaned over to unfasten her shoes.

  “Let me, sweetheart.” Finn was there, fingers adroitly taking care of the annoying buttons.

  “You spoil me, Finn.”

  “I certainly hope so.” He grinned up at her.

  “Come here.” She kicked the offending shoes away and pulled him close, collapsing backward and tugging him down on top of her. “Mmm,” she murmured. “This is how I like us.”

  “Me too,” he said, leaning forward and kissing her quickly. “But with less clothing.”

  “That can be arranged,” she answered, helping him out of his jacket. “See?”

  “Hmm.” He lifted himself up on one arm and shoved her dress down over her shoulder with his free hand.

  “It fastens in front darling,” she cooed, pointing out the buttons at either side of the band beneath her breasts.

  “Well, fancy that,” he grinned. The buttons were undone in a trice, and her breasts bared seconds later.

  “Shirt,” she ordered.

  He obeyed, sliding back on top of her, abrading her sensitive nipples with his skin. “God, that’s the most amazing sensation, love,”

  Choking back a gasp of pleasure, Hecate nodded. Then swallowed and closed her eyes. “Breeches, Finn. Now.”

  “If you insist.” He had to get off her for that, so he took the opportunity to rid himself of every item of clothing and then tug her dress and stockings off at the same time. Her chemise vanished promptly and she was left bared to his gaze.

  “Finn,” she whispered. “I’m afraid.”

  “Of what, sweetheart?” He slipped back on top of her, and this time, with his cock already hard and tucked into the notch at the top of her thighs, they fit perfectly.

  She took a breath, which had the side effect of giving her breasts some additional attention. “I’m afraid of what we have between us. It’s so powerful. What if it’s only temporary? What if it dies out and you don’t want me anymore?”

  “Impossible.” He shifted, moving down, his tongue finding her nipples and teasing them, making her moan.

  “I’ll never tire of you, Hecate. Ever.”

  He continued to lave attention on her breasts, then moved lower, teasing her navel, and nipping his way even further south.

  When he found her with his mouth, sucking, nuzzling, teasing, seeking her pleasure centres with his talented tongue, she cried out, writhed, bucked beneath him until he pushed her up and over the top.

  He returned to his previous spot, above her, watching her face as she returned to earth.
Then he kissed her, hard, his tongue in her mouth, his hands anywhere he could find.

  She tasted herself, blended with him, a kiss that was so erotic she felt the heat billowing again. Parting her thighs in mute invitation, she rubbed her wet sex against his rock hard arousal.

  “In me, now, Finn, now…”

  He raised himself, found her opening—and thrust.

  They both cried out at the fire that ignited within them, she fighting him for every inch, he pushing into her so deep he swore he left his soul inside her.

  Their pace accelerated, their bodies slapped together; a sound that orchestrated the rising tide of ecstasy and desire that fuelled them.

  “God, Finn…” She clutched at his buttocks, trying to pull him even closer, despite the fact that she could feel his balls slapping against her with every thrust.

  “Yes, oh Hecate, yesss…”

  A final shattering collision of bodies and the world exploded around them. Hecate hung on to Finn for dear life, her legs wrapped around him, her fingers clawing at his shoulders.

  The hot jets of his seed filled her even as her own body milked him dry.

  It was wondrous, monumental…and for Hecate it was an explosion of colours and stars so brilliant she could barely see for a few moments. An unusual sensation tickled at her, somewhere deep within her body and for a few moments her emotions rose up in her throat and almost choked her.

  She finally got her breath back. “You are mine for always, Finn,” she murmured as they slid apart.

  “As you are mine.” He breathed the words on a soft kiss.

  It wasn’t long before they were both tucked up in bed, snuggled together in Hecate’s favourite spooning position.

  Finn slept; the rhythmic breathing told her he was tired, and she wasn’t surprised he’d fallen asleep so quickly.

  It took longer for her, since she still had much to think about, and her senses seemed to be extra alert after the experiences of the evening.

  Would they head home immediately, or perhaps wait for Max and Kitty? How was everything going at Doireann Vale? Had Cressida given birth to her twins yet?

  So many questions ran willy-nilly through her mind.