Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

F inn’s carriage pulled up in front of her father’s estate a few moments before ten. Esme let out a sigh as she looked up at the big, beautiful home. It looked the same, it looked so very different.

“I haven’t been here since the night I ran,” she whispered. “Not even to drive past. I was too afraid and it hurt too much.”

He lifted her hands to his chest. They were bound for the plan to follow, but loosely, with a knot she could easily slip. She felt the solid, comforting beat of his heart even through all the layers which separated them. “You aren’t alone. Just focus on the plan.”

She nodded as the door opened and a servant she didn’t recognize waited for her exit. She did so awkwardly and he glared at Finn as he followed her out.

“Chilton said you was to be alone,” the man grunted.

Finn straightened his shoulders and lifted her tied hands so the servant could see them. Suddenly Finn seemed bigger, the lines of him saying danger rather than propriety. “I have something Chilton wants. I’m going with her, so you might as well let me through.”

The servant rolled his eyes and waved them toward the stairs. The butler there wore her father’s livery, but again he wasn’t someone she recognized.

“Where is Swanson?” she asked as they reached the man.

“Long gone,” the new man answered, and gave Finn a similar glare to the one the footman had. “Wait here, I’ll tell him you’ve arrived…with a guest.”

“None of these are my father’s servants,” she said softly as soon as the man was out of earshot. “He replaced all of them, not just the ones Willowby spoke to.”

“Perhaps more of the old ones can be found,” Finn suggested. “They might know things. Assuming they’re well.”

“Oh, I hope they weren’t harmed,” Esme said, hating that fear multiplied in her. “They were always so kind.”

He placed a hand on the small of her back and it calmed her a fraction. A good thing because the butler returned and motioned them to follow. As they trailed through the halls, Esme allowed herself to look around. The house had been changed a great deal since she was last here.

“It’s garish,” she said with a shiver. “My father was so effortlessly stylish, he’s probably turning in his grave.”

“For a good many reasons,” Finn agreed.

They entered a parlor toward the back of the house and Esme breathed a sigh of relief. There were many windows in this room—it had been where she and her father always read together, letting the sunlight and the breeze stream through on fine days. She looked toward where his favorite chair had been as she entered and started. It was still there and Jane was bound to it, her mouth gagged and her eye blackened.

“Jane,” Esme burst out, and went to run to her. Finn grasped her shoulder harder to keep her at his side, both for the sake of the game they were trying to play and also because of what she hadn’t noticed right away. Her cousin was already in the room, leaning against the mantel. He had a gun trained on them.

“Did you forget how to read while you were out whoring on the street?” Francis said. “I said to come alone.”

She straightened her shoulders and forced herself to breathe as she raised her tied hands. “It wasn’t my choice. This one intercepted your note. Turns out he’s just as much as an arse as you are.”

Her cousin’s eyes narrowed and he looked at Finn. “Why would you do that? I thought you were fucking my pretty little cousin. Protecting her.”

“Of course to the first but the second? Hardly,” Finn snorted.

It was what they’d planned, but that word still stung. Rejection, sharp and harsh that she pushed away.

“I don’t know if I believe you. After all, you’ve been having her come and go from your house and then took her in. Is it possible she appealed to your desire to want to save the world, Delacourt?"

Finn shrugged. “It behooves a man to look like he gives a damn about his lessers. I think you would have learned that lesson fairly quickly as marquess. I was shocked when I found Charlotte in dire straits. I used it to my benefit to bed her. But, as you said, she’s little more than a common whore, isn’t she?”

Jane had been watching the exchange from her position on the chair and her eyes narrowed. She struggled a little against the ropes until they dug into her flesh. Esme wanted to tell her to stop, to relax, but didn’t want to reveal the ruse.

“A common whore you couldn’t wait to fuck,” she muttered, as if she were annoyed. “Goddamn it, Francis .” She drew out his name the way she knew he’d hated as a child. “It’s boiling in here. Open a window.”

Francis let out a growl, but he pivoted and opened the window. Esme let out a little sigh of relief. Somewhere out there, Willowby waited and this was the first step in having his full protection.

“And so you dragged Charlotte here as what? Your prisoner? She didn’t want to come to save her friend?”

Finn let out an ugly laugh. “No. You think you have leverage with the pretty blonde one? What’s her name again? Joan?”

“Jane,” Esme said with a shrug. “Why should I care? We share rent, not anything else. One whore is the same as another.”

Now she saw Jane’s shoulders relax. Her friend understood now, thank goodness, because Jane knew that Esme would never in the world say those things about her. That she did truly care. The ruse was recognized, perhaps she’d even try to play along.

“So you brought her here…” Francis said, his tone laced with confusion.

“As a gift, my lord,” Finn said. “When I intercepted the note for her, I realized you might believe I was playing a game with you. You’ve offered me an opportunity that I want to take, I don’t want to miss out on it for a bit of arse. If you want her, you can have her. And let’s discuss my investing in your operation.”

Francis kept the gun up, but he swung it more fully on Esme now. Terrifying and relieving all at once. This was working. “You wish to invest?”

“Yes. Not the banks. That’s too pedestrian. But I think you and I would match very well for the smuggling. My estate in Delacourt is along the sea, you know. The perfect place for boats to come ashore and items of value to be picked up for distribution.”

Her cousin’s eyes narrowed. “You just decided this? And it happened to coincide with my note demanding my cousin come here alone?”

“I’ve been thinking about it since our last meeting. I intended to come to you tomorrow, now that my sister’s wedding is completed. And then your note arrived and I realized I may have miscalculated by taking Charlotte off the street and enjoying a once-lady ride my cock.”

“Pig,” Esme spat, aiming it truly toward her cousin rather than Finn.

Francis nodded slowly. “I see. Well, if you truly don’t care about her or what happens, I suppose you won’t mind if I kill her.”

Jane began to rock against her bonds again and Esme tensed as terror struck through her like lightning in a summer storm. To Finn’s great credit, though, he didn’t even bat an eye. “I don’t care if you kill her. I’ve finished with her. Seems she might be a thorn in our side, I assume that’s why you wanted her here.”

“She always suspected me of killing her father,” Francis said with a smile for her.

There was the slightest flutter to Finn’s fingers, but that was the only way one could see that he was upset by that statement. “And did you? I’d be impressed if you managed it without getting the guard on your tail.”

Francis explored his face slowly, looking for any tell, she supposed. Finn showed none. “I thought you loved my uncle. Like your own father, thought him a man above all other men.”

“I did,” Finn said. “But I can care for him and also understand that his pedantic ways and desire to always do what was right might have gotten in the way of business. He was old, he’d lived a good life. If you took care of him as a problem, I can only respect that. It was harder when I took care of my own father.”

Esme pivoted on him. They hadn’t discussed him lying about the death of his father, something that she knew pained him after their difficult relationship. But he did it calmly and coolly and without showing an ounce of his emotion on his handsome face.

“Really,” Francis mused, and then he nodded. “Well, then you know what it’s like to always be waiting. To know you have to claim your place. To claim your future at any cost. I doubt she can prove what I did though, no matter how much she knows it to be true, but I couldn’t have her coming back into good Society, could I? When I realized she was the one in your bed, I had to snuff that out. Plus, I’ve always wished I’d taken care of her the same time I took care of my uncle. It would have been cleaner.”

Esme didn’t think, she didn’t plan, she just let out a primal scream that came from every pain she’d ever felt, every loss that had burned her soul, every horrible moment of sacrifice and surrender she’d been forced to participate in since she ran from this house in terror. She broke her loose bond easily and launched on Francis, swung out her foot and wrapped it around his ankle. As he staggered, she pressed both hands into his chest and shoved.

He was falling when the gun went off. She hardly felt the pain as the bullet hit her across the top of her shoulder, cutting open the skin as it skidded by. She landed on top of him and began to rain down punches, as hard as she could. He was bigger than she was, but she’d had too much practice. She locked her legs around his sides so he couldn’t buck her, and hit until he whimpered and squealed, until she felt hands grasping her and pulling her back, her legs wheeling out for kicks until she was out of range.

“Esme!” It was Finn’s voice bringing her back as the door to the parlor opened and Ripley, Ramsbury and Diana rushed in. Somehow, Willowby was already there, perhaps he’d climbed in the window as she attacked her cousin. He was binding Francis’s hands behind his back none too gently as blood poured from what appeared to be a badly broken nose.

Ripley rushed to untie Jane and knelt before her to look at her eye gently. “You little fool.” There was no heat to his tone. “Why didn’t you stay where you were?”

Jane didn’t answer but looked toward Esme. Ripley moved aside as she pulled from Finn’s arms and ran to her friend. They embraced.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed as the full weight of what had happened hit her. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, love, no,” Jane whispered as she hugged her until she almost couldn’t breathe. “You’re free now. And I’m fine. Just fine.”

She looked over Esme’s shoulder toward Finn and Esme moved to do the same. He was watching her, expression wrought with the terror he hadn’t allowed himself to show during the whole exchange with her cousin.

“Good work, my lord,” Jane said. “I can see why she likes you.”

There was a flutter of a smile on his lips even though he was pale. He gave a quick half bow before he turned to Diana to speak quietly, Esme assumed to find out what would happen next with Francis, who was almost insensible as he was dragged from the room to whatever fate awaited him.

And as she hugged Jane close again, she had to wonder what her own fate would be after this night was over and she was forced to decide her next step.

T here hadn’t been much to do after Willowby took the Marquess of Chilton away in irons, his bloody face one small consolation for the hell he’d caused. Finn had spoken to Diana, spoken to Sebastian, arranged for one of his carriages to take Jane and Ripley to the boxing instructor’s home once it was clear she was uninjured.

Diana had bandaged Esme’s injury—a flesh wound, nothing more—then brought in a few more agents. They were interviewing the few servants who hadn’t run when they saw their master’s games were up. Certainly there would be more to do to clean up the mess, but now Finn sat in his carriage, Esme tucked against his side, her bruised hands on her lap, and they rode silently back to his home.

“What did Diana say about Francis?” she asked at last.

He was actually glad she’d spoken. Her silence had worried him, left him wondering how scarred she was by tonight. He smoothed her hair gently and said, “They’ll lock him up in Newgate for now. She thinks the treason will see him hang.”

“Good,” Esme said softly. “He deserves to suffer and fear and ultimately die for what he did to my father. To me.” She let out a shaky sigh and rested a hand on his chest. “You did well.”

“It was horrible,” he said, and shivered as he was flooded with memories. Perhaps she wasn’t the only one scarred. “We knew he might put the gun on you, I tried to prepare myself, but when he did…when you attacked and it fired, I thought I’d die myself. Does your shoulder hurt?”

“It’s a mere sting,” she promised, and leaned up to kiss him. “I’m sure it will hurt more tomorrow, but it isn’t serious.”

“I’ve never before seen a woman I love hit by someone’s bullet. I think it was very serious.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

They were silent as the carriage turned into the drive. He helped her out, waved off assistance and they went together up to his chamber once again and through the antechamber to his bedroom.

She leaned against the door, watching as he went to the basin of water at his dressing table and wetted a cloth. “Come here,” he said. “Let me help you out of that dress and clean up your hands and shoulder.”

“I ruined Marianne’s gown,” she said with a shaky sigh as she did as she was told and turned her back so he could unbutton her. He’d done this so many times now, but this time he was more tender. He’d thought he could lose her. He would never again take this for granted.

“Marianne has plenty of dresses,” he reassured her, sucking in a breath as he peeled the bloody gown sleeve away and saw the hastily but expertly stitched wound. “The Duchess of Willowby is a revelation.”

“She confessed she’s a healer as she was stitching me, while you were talking to Sebastian.” Esme smiled. “She’s fascinating and also very kind. I’m so glad to know her.”

He nodded and gently wiped away the dried blood from around the wound wrapping, then did the same to her bloody and bruised knuckles. “Do your hands hurt?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “I’ve been in over a dozen fights since I became the Hellion and I’ve never hit someone so hard as I did Francis.”

“Well, he deserved it.” He glanced up at her. “Did it help?”

“To hit him? To give him a fraction of the pain that he caused me?” She sighed. “Somewhat. But in the end, my father is still dead. Everything that happened to me still happened. I’m still as lost about my future as I was before.”

He set the cloth aside and knelt before her. His dark eyes were filled with emotion. “I’d like to talk about that, if you’re up for it.”

He held his breath as he waited for her response. He could see her struggling with it. “I know we need to discuss it,” she said at last. “I know it weighs heavily on us both.”

“I want to repeat that I love you. I want to reiterate that I want my life to be with you.”

She nodded. “I know those things are true, not said in haste. And I still can’t deny that I feel the same. But…”

The but. He’d known she’d say it, but it still felt like he was the one being shot now, but through the heart, not across the shoulder. “But you don’t believe a future is possible. At least not with how things stand now.”

“To marry you, to be at your side in an official way, it would mean coming back to the public. There will already be vicious gossip once my cousin’s crimes are made public. There won’t be any avoiding it. If I return at the same time, on your arm, after all these years? It will put a spotlight on us that could burn us both to the ground. I’ve survived that before, but I love you too much to let it happen to you.”

“Despite the fact that I would burn to the ground for you every day?”

She cupped his cheeks. “Because of that fact, Finn.” He bent his head, but she continued before he could. “And I was thinking that I could be your mistress. There would be no shame to me in having a life with you without sharing your name.”

“Do you suppose I’d marry someone else eventually?” he said, incredulity dripping from his tone.

“To further your line.” She took a shuttering breath. “You must.”

“So you would have our children be bastards and watch me marry someone else? Not acceptable. I would never do that to you, to us. Nor to any other woman. That would make me my father and I won’t do that, even for you.”

There was a flutter of a smile on her face. “Then we’re at an impasse. Back to the beginning. There is no way. You’ve saved me, but that doesn’t mean we can be together. It would probably be best if I left London, moved to the country. Once Francis hangs and my other cousin takes over the estate, I can petition for a living or a settlement. If he agrees, that plus the money I saved as the Hellion will probably be enough for a simple life. And I won’t ever regret you, I could…” Her voice broke. “I could never, ever regret you.”

He let her finish, even though every word was like poison. Then he leaned in closer, up higher on his knees so their faces would be even.

“That won’t be enough,” he whispered. “And you’ve forgotten one other option.”

She shook her head. “What other option?”

“I could abdicate my title. It would take time and a legal process, but eventually it would be resolved. I’d go with you to this simple life in the country. I’d marry you, perhaps take up a trade. Raise our children and be happy with you until the day I take my dying breath.”

She let out a little cry and stood. “You would give up everything? I’d never ask you!”

“Well, I’d prefer to have a life with you here, close to my family, to our friends. I’d prefer to live without fear of might have been and should be,” he said, and followed her to her feet, even though he didn’t pursue her. He wanted to with all his might, but he couldn’t. She had to make this decision on her own. To be convinced, not coerced, into giving herself a chance at the future he saw so clearly.

“Oh, Finn,” she whispered, almost whimpered.

“I want to face all the dragons that may come with you at my side,” he said. “To show you that I don’t give a damn what anyone says about you or me. So what if we are shunned either for a short time or forever? We’ll have each other.”

She pursed her lips and he wasn’t certain it was her trying not to waver or becoming annoyed that he was still fighting. “Could you really do without the admiration of those around you? Without the reputation you’ve created over the years?”

“If I can wake with you beside me? Reputation is nothing.” He stepped toward her. “Everything you say could be true. My life could become smaller as far as the circle I keep. However, I think you aren’t as friendless as you believe. The Duchess of Willowby is very influential and she very obviously thinks the world of your strength. Because she has impeccable taste, I might add.”

There was a slight smile that turned up Esme’s lips and he clung to that as he continued, “And my sister is the new Countess of Ramsbury. She will have weight, as does Sebastian. It might take time, but even the worst scandals are muted after time. Winds change.” He touched her hand. “But I’d never force you to do something that would hurt you. I’ll walk away if it’s what you need to be comfortable.”

She stared at him. “You would do that for me?”

He nodded. “I would do anything for you, Esme. Anything and everything for the rest of our days.”

She ran a hand over her face. The hesitation was beautiful, because he knew he was breaking through. He stepped closer. “What if we agreed to this: we run off and get married first off. Elope to Gretna Green as soon as we can because I cannot wait to call you wife. Then we see how it plays out for a few months. Let the scandal rise and fall the rest of the Season. And if you still don’t see a path as the Countess of Delacourt, then we try living in the countryside and…I don’t know…clamming for a living.”

“Do you know how to clam?” she asked.

He smiled. “I did it once, on a holiday with some friends.”

She sighed as a response, her levity gone again. “Do you think you could ever be happy like that?”

He shrugged. “I’ve never tried it, so I don’t know. But I know with all my heart that I could never be happy without you . So I choose you. Only you. Forever you. Please, please marry me.”

Her eyes were filled with tears and they began to fall as she crossed the room to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’ve made it impossible to say no to you. Almost from the very start. If you think the risk is worth it, I’d rather spend a lifetime with you than a lifetime without. And I’ll marry you, Finn. I’ll marry you.”

He tugged her closer, his mouth finding hers with only joy and pleasure and hope for a future that seemed to glow out before him like a never-ending beacon. And as that kiss deepened into a physical celebration of the love they had found, he knew the only thing that would definitely happen was that they would live happily ever after. He’d have it no other way.