Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

E sme had never been one to avoid a problem. It hadn’t been a luxury she could have for many years. If she didn’t face things head on, she could be put in a dangerous position. And yet, two days after her last conversation with Finn, she still hadn’t been able to make herself think too hard about his offer to help her.

His offer to reopen a wound she’d tried to let heal on its own, despite the pain.

She shook her head and stood up from the settee where she had been trying to read and went into her room down the hall. She crouched down and pulled a small box from beneath the bed, then sat down on the rug, her back against the bedpost and sighed as she stared at it. It was a plain thing, something she’d bought for a few shillings on a whim. She opened it and stared at the items inside.

There was a swatch of cloth, rich and green that matched her eyes. It was from the gown she’d been wearing the night she’d fled her home, feeling the danger of her cousin’s intent at her heels with every uncertain step. It had been torn and dirtied, eventually repaired. Then made over again and again until it was so worn out that there was no use trying to fix it anymore. She had enough other gowns by then, paid for by her own labor. And yet she’d kept one swatch of the worn fabric.

She removed it and fingered what was left of the fine silk. It made her think of Finn’s dressing gown when she’d last seen him. Made her think of silk moving across flesh in the dark.

She swallowed and carefully unfolded the material to find the real treasures she kept safely within. There was a miniature of her father and an old enamel pendant that had belonged to her mother. The pearls that outlined the simple blue circle were worth something, but she’d never sold them even in her darkest hour as she tried to cling to what little she had left.

She picked up the miniature of her father and stared at it. It had been painted when she was very young, when her mother was still alive. His hair had still been dark, a little too long, curling around his forehead. His long nose had a little crookedness to it and she smiled at the imperfection he had always hated but she had loved for its uniqueness. His green eyes were the same as hers and were bright as he stared out at the artist with a warmth to his expression that was usually reserved for his family. Had he been looking at her mother at that moment? Or her, held in the arms of some friend or family member?

She gasped as a tear splashed onto her hand. When she reached up she felt dampness on both cheeks.

“Oh, dearest.”

She glanced up to find Jane in her doorway. Her friend came across the room and promptly sat down on the floor beside her to put her arm around her. They sat like that for a moment, both staring at her father’s small portrait.

“He was a handsome devil,” Jane said at last.

Esme laughed. “He was. Lordy, but I miss him. It’s so silly, I’m not the first woman to lose a father and I certainly won’t be the last but?—”

“You needn’t minimize the pain,” Jane said. “I didn’t know my father at all and am probably better for it. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t mourn yours out of penance.”

“I suppose.” Esme turned her father’s portrait over in her lap so she wouldn’t have to look at his face for a moment. She drew a few breaths. “I’ve been thinking about what to do regarding Finn’s offer.”

Jane nodded slowly. Esme had told her friend all about everything the moment she got home. Jane had, surprisingly, not offered much advice. And now Esme needed it.

“What do you think I should do?”

“You know how I feel about your endangering yourself when it comes to that bastard cousin of yours. But…” Jane took a long, unsteady breath. “I think you ought to let the earl investigate.”

Esme jerked her face toward her friend. “What? Why?”

“Because I’ve watched you rolling this over in your head for two days and you had the same lost expression you did when I found you. Because you’ve never gotten justice and if there’s a chance of it in this world, you shouldn’t walk away from it.” Jane reached down and turned the portrait of Esme’s father over again. “You should because maybe you could go home.”

“This is my home,” Esme said. “I already told you that no one in Society would ever accept me back.”

“Perhaps not, but I would wager if this is resolved, if your horrible cousin is hung or transported and the next in line takes over, that you’ll get at least a settlement. Even if it’s just to cover up what was found. You could be set for life. You wouldn’t have to do…” Jane waved a hand around the small room. “ This . Or get black eyes for a living. Or lie on your back for it.”

Esme rested her head back against the post and stared out at nothing as those words worked through her. “I suppose there is some part of me that wouldn’t mind more stability. Though I don’t hate this little home we share, even though the front window leaks air. I certainly don’t hate what I do. I’m good at it. It’s satisfying to know I can fight my way, quite literally, to freedom.”

“But I like your face, Esme,” Jane said with a laugh that faded quickly. “And we both know that what you do now will take it away at some point. That everything we do to survive chips away at our bodies and our souls.”

Esme nodded slowly. “I suppose if that happened and I went to live the life of an eccentric with a dozen adorable cats in the countryside, you could come with me.”

Jane laughed. “I’ve always liked cats.”

“That’s because you are a cat.” Esme nudged her gently and Jane’s laughter increased.

When she became serious again, she said, “Or perhaps you’ll become an earl’s wife. A countess, isn’t it? I could carry your trains while I don’t make eye contact with Lady High and Mighty.”

Her friend meant it as a joke, but Esme tensed at the idea. Not so long ago, it would have been an attainable dream. To be Finn’s, in his arms and life and bed forever. But now she had no business considering that. Not that she wanted it. Finn was temporary.

“You are terrible,” she teased with difficulty and lightly slapped her friend’s arm.

Jane became serious. “Truly, though. Let him help if he offers it. At the very least, you might get peace of mind.”

Esme nodded slowly. Peace of mind sounded lovely. To turn the page fully on the death of her father, knowing she’d done all she could to avenge him.

“Very well. I’ll reach out to Finn. I’ll meet with him and discuss whatever it is he thinks he can do for me.”

Jane lifted her eyebrows. “Yes. Whatever it is.”

They both got up and Jane left the room first, giggling over her quip. But Esme couldn’t. She was about to enter the most treacherous waters she’d ever encountered. She’d have to be careful not to drown.

F inn had known his sister for twenty-six years and Sebastian for almost as long, and yet the silence in his parlor as they sat together was as awkward as if they had all just met. He shifted in his chair and forced a smile at the pair on the settee. It was only relieved when a servant stepped in with the tea and placed it on the sideboard before quickly bowing out.

“Let me play hostess,” Marianne said as she got to her feet and hurried to the sideboard.

“I’ll help,” Sebastian said, at her heels immediately.

Finn remained silent as he watched the two interact. He’d been skeptical of their sudden union, as well as the delicate position he’d found them in together at the country party. Ramsbury was attentive now, his eyes bright as he helped her. But Finn still feared for her. If she ended up married to him and had to chase him for his affections like their mother had…

Finn’s stomach turned. That was why he still maintained distance from his friend, despite the upcoming nuptials.

And yet as Finn watched, he did feel the connection between them. He saw it in the way Sebastian smiled down at Marianne when she wasn’t looking at him. He saw it in the way she blushed when their hands met as she passed over a cup to him. Or the way she said her intended’s name, something gentle and intimate and so filled with love that it seemed rude to listen to them.

Ramsbury returned to Finn, handing over a cup prepared just as he liked it. The two of them settled back into their places and Marianne smiled. “The first reading of the banns seemed to go well, as well as the announcements in all the papers. Thank you for doing that, Finn.”

He inclined his head. “Of course. I would do nothing less than publicly celebrate your union. From the comments I’ve received, it seems that on the whole, most are seeing this as a fetching love story.”

“Good,” Ramsbury said, and took Marianne’s hand. “Because that’s what it is.”

Finn wrinkled his brow. He’d told Esme that he couldn’t recognize love, but that wasn’t true. When he forced himself to see beyond his own fears, there it was, right in front of him. And while he was happy for his sister and his friend that they had found it, he still felt an empty ache in his chest.

“I’m surprised Aunt Beulah didn’t join us,” Finn said, searching for small talk.

Marianne laughed and sent Ramsbury a side look that indicated some private little joke. “She is obsessed with my wedding trousseau and could not be dragged from stitching me handkerchiefs with what will be my new initials, so she stayed behind in our little home.”

Finn wrinkled his brow. Their spinster aunt had lived with Marianne in the years when she had taken her own small home in London. He hadn’t thought about what would happen after she was wed. Why hadn’t he thought of that? It was his duty to do just that.

“Actually, we wished to speak to you about her,” Marianne said, and patted Ramsbury’s knee gently.

He smiled at her and then said, “We would like for her to join us in our home in London after the wedding. She’s been a good companion to your sister all this time.”

“And she adores Sebastian,” Marianne said with a smile.

Finn nodded. “Y-Yes, of course. If she would be happy with that change, I’d support it fully. I can sell your small home after everything is settled and distribute the money as additional dowry if you’d like.”

“Settle it on her,” Marianne suggested. “As an extra allowance. You know how she wagers at cards with her friends—she could always use a little extra.”

Sebastian nodded. “That’s a fine idea. Marianne certainly will want for nothing.”

Finn stared at his teacup for a moment. Everything was being taken care of without his input. The time for him to be his sister and his aunt’s protector was over, it seemed. And just when Esme might need him. Was she correct that he would simply transfer his need to protect to her?

No. Wanting to save Esme, help her, had nothing to do with his basic instincts and everything to do with the way her eyes lit up when she looked at him.

They drank tea for a while, discussing the wedding and friends and whatever other topic came to mind. Finn tried to stay focused, but he found his mind wandering more than once. Over and over again Esme, to everything they’d discussed and done two nights before. He hadn’t heard from her and he wanted to. Needed to.

“Do you still have Mama’s emerald leaf necklace?” Marianne asked, drawing Finn from his musings.

He cleared his throat. “Yes, of course. It’s with the rest of her things in the old wing. Why?”

“If you don’t object I’d…” Marianne’s voice cracked a little. “I’d like to wear it on my wedding day. I would return it, of course, afterward. It was meant for the countess and I’m certain you’d like to save it for whoever she ends up being.”

Finn swallowed hard. It was too easy to imagine Esme in that necklace that would match her eyes so perfectly. His voice was rough as he said, “I would love for you to wear it. Do you want to fetch it now?”

Marianne nodded. “Oh yes, I do. Tomorrow we have my next fitting for my wedding gown and I wanted to try it so that my seamstress may lay the bodice correctly to display it to its best advantage.”

Sebastian stood as she did, his face bright with a smile. “I cannot wait to see your gown.”

“But you must,” Marianne said with a laugh as she moved to the door. “It’s bad luck otherwise. I’ll have Bentley help me find it. Entertain yourselves, gentlemen.”

Sebastian looked down at Finn when she was gone and shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you fail to rise when a lady exited a room. Certainly not Marianne.”

Finn jolted. Was he not standing? God, he wasn’t. He did now and smoothed his waistcoat. “How abominably rude of me. I cannot believe I didn’t. I shall apologize to her later.”

Ramsbury moved to the sideboard where the tea remained and bent to open one of the lower cupboards. He brought out a fine bottle of scotch and poured them each one.

“She doesn’t care and you know it. Her only concern would be the one I share, which is that you are out of sorts. And you have been, even before our trip out to the country and all that transpired there. Still, I must ask, is your poor mood only related to that fact that you are still displeased with me about everything?”

There was true concern in his friend’s tone as he handed over the scotch. Finn swirled it in the glass, staring as the amber liquid rolled around the edges without sloshing over. “On the contrary, when I see my sister light up as she does whenever you’re near her, how can I be anything but pleased, despite the unfortunate details of your beginning?”

Ramsbury smiled and there was something so gentle about it. Something that changed his rake of a friend into an infatuated lover. Finn didn’t think the other would ever return. He both mourned and cheered that fact.

“I truly do love her, Delacourt,” he said softly. “You should not fear otherwise.”

“I don’t. I can see you love her. It’s written all over your face.” Finn forced a smile, but turned away to slug half his drink in one burning gulp.

“Then what’s wrong?” Sebastian asked.

Finn crossed to the window and looked out at the garden below, but he didn’t truly see any of the cool, green beauty. Not except to compare it to Esme’s eyes. The garden seemed faded in comparison.

“It’s nothing,” he lied. “Just a silly distraction that I will get over soon enough.”

“I see.” Ramsbury was quiet a moment. “And what is her name?” Finn pivoted away from the window to stare at his friend and found Sebastian with his arms folded and a little smirk on his face. “I’m a very recently reformed rake, Phineas. I can still see the signs of a man taken in by a lover, or a potential lover.”

Finn pursed his lips. Sebastian wasn’t wrong, of course. Esme was nothing more than a lover, no matter how many of her secrets he had uncovered, or how many offers of help she took or didn’t take. And yet that term felt dismissive. It wasn’t enough to encompass the connection they had.

But he wasn’t about to tell Sebastian that. Instead he shrugged. “She isn’t anyone you’d know. Just a…it’s just a lark.”

That felt even worse to say.

Sebastian’s smile faltered and his brows lowered. “No, it doesn’t seem like a lark. You’d hardly be so troubled by a bit of fun like that. Or left so bleary eyed by one.”

Finn rubbed a hand over those very eyes. “Perhaps it’s more then. It’s a conundrum, for certain, of most frustrating proportions.”

“That sounds serious.” Sebastian took a step forward. “What can I do to help?”

Finn stared at him. Even with the tension that had developed between them in the past few months, under any other circumstances he would have turned to Sebastian. Very few people in the world knew him better, or would have better advice. But if Finn revealed the truth of his problems, he would also be revealing Esme. “I promised the lady in question that I’d reveal nothing of her circumstances. I must keep that vow.”

Sebastian nodded slowly, but his expression was intense. Like he could see something in Finn, something he didn’t want to acknowledge, even if only to himself. So he turned away.

“If anything changes, you know where I am,” Sebastian said softly.

“Sneaking into my sister’s house at night, no doubt,” Finn said with false glare toward his friend.

Sebastian tilted his head back to laugh but didn’t deny the charge. As he did, Marianne returned to the room and her face lit up to see them laughing together. “Oh, a joke! What is it?”

Finn snorted. “I’m sure Ramsbury will tell you later.”

She wrinkled her brow but didn’t press. “I admit, I’m happy to see you two at such ease with each other. I know our engagement, the circumstances that created it in the country, they strained your friendship. It has been the only mar on an otherwise joyful time.”

Finn pushed aside everything else he felt and moved toward his sister, catching her hands in his. He looked down into her face and saw her joy and also her love for him. “Marianne, I free you from any worry about me when it comes to your union. No, I wasn’t happy with…er…discovering you two in such a delicate situation at the country estate.”

Marianne blushed and ducked her head, so Finn hastened to continue. “But I can see your happiness and that of my dearest friend. And as I was speaking to him a moment ago, I had this realization that your union will make Sebastian, a man I’ve always seen as a brother, into my brother in truth. When added to your own joy, how could I ever be anything but elated at that future?”

Marianne’s eyes misted with tears. “Oh, Finn!” she gasped, and then tugged him in for a tight hug. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Oh, thank you for saying that.”

He squeezed her back. It had always been just the two of them. They were each other’s only true family. He never wanted to risk that, to harm that. And being able to finally fully accept the union, to celebrate it, it lifted a weight he’d been carrying.

It also put into stark contrast Esme’s situation. She, too, had only had one person in her life. And with her father’s death, she’d lost everything. He grieved that on her behalf.

Marianne stepped away and then moved toward Sebastian. The earl had been watching the siblings interact quietly, but he smiled broadly as he wrapped an arm around Marianne and tucked her to his side.

“If you two are quite finished with this highly emotional display,” Sebastian teased. “I think I must whisk the future countess away, for we have a dozen errands to run when it comes to wedding plans today.”

Finn motioned toward the door and followed the couple into the foyer where the carriage was rung for. “You are assisting with the wedding plans, then? That is progressive thinking for a groom.”

“There would be very few ladies I could plan with,” Marianne said with a sad expression. Finn frowned. She had lost her closest friend a little over a month prior. He hadn’t thought of how that must affect her joy as much as his previous attitude had.

Sebastian took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “And I like being involved. Watching Marianne’s face light up when she finds the perfect fabric or some exquisite bauble for a table is my current greatest pleasure.”

Marianne smiled up at him. “You tease.”

“I do not,” he said as the carriage arrived.

She said her goodbyes to Finn and Sebastian handed her up into the vehicle. She slid to the other side and began to look through her reticule for something. He was about to join her when a messenger rode up the drive. The young man swung down and looked between the two earls.

“Delacourt?” he asked.

“That would be me,” Finn said, and held out a hand for the missive. It was in a very pretty hand, his full title written carefully above his address. He hadn’t ever seen Esme’s writing, but he knew it was hers and his heart began to pound into his throat.

Sebastian arched a brow and spoke quietly, so Marianne wouldn’t hear him. “From the way your expression just lit up, I would wager your conundrum isn’t always frustrating.”

Finn glanced up. “No. She is not.”

“Well, happy hunting, my friend.” He stepped up into the carriage and leaned out. “I’m always here.”

With that he shut the door and the carriage pulled away, leaving Finn still staring at the letter in his hand. He returned to the house and back into the parlor where his tea was going cold on the sideboard next to the scotch Sebastian had poured. He took a long sip of the second before he broke the wax seal on the back of the pages.

I’d like to see you to discuss your offer. I’m certain you must have had your driver pay attention to where I was delivered. You’re too clever not to do so. Send me word as to when and where is convenient. Esme.

Finn read the three sentences over and over, marking every shiver in the handwriting, every swirl of each letter. It was direct, with nothing flowery to it, but he could almost hear it being read in Esme’s throaty voice. Whispered like a caress against his skin. He would see her again. As soon as he wished to do so, and however privately he wanted to make it. That was the thrill, even more than knowing she might allow him to help her uncover the truth about her father’s death.

And that was dangerous. If he was intelligent, he’d turn this entirely toward his old friend. He owed Chilton this, he owed him more than panting after his wayward daughter, certainly.

And yet he knew, as he walked to his study to reply to her message, that the moment he saw Esme, he wouldn’t be able to resist the electric current that bound them together. It was just too powerful.