She laughed lightly. “No. Perhaps they won’t ask for details.”
The hansom came to a stop. Finn handed some coins up through an opening in the roof. The doors swung open. He leaped out, then reached back for her. Placing her hand in his, as always appreciating the strength she found there, she alighted.
And there was the brick building he’d talked to her about so many times with its wooden sign hanging over the doorway, swinging in the slight wind, proclaiming the establishment as the Mermaid and Unicorn. Someone had painted a mermaid in the top corner and a unicorn in the opposite bottom corner. Light spilled out through the windows, casting a warm glow over the brick walkway and illuminating the people inside. Voices, laughter, and a din of sounds she couldn’t identify wafted out into the night, and she wondered how anyone could walk past and not want to stop in for a few moments to be part of such revelry.
Taking her hand, Finn escorted her to the door, opened it, and ushered her inside, where it was even more marvelous and unlike any place she’d ever before visited. She was accustomed to people speaking in hushed tones at gatherings, but here it was as though everyone was shouting to be heard over someone else. People didn’t walk sedately. They rushed about carrying tankards and glasses. The two women doing the most rushing had plump breasts, the upper mounds nearly spilling out of their clothing. The energy and excitement of the place was overwhelming.
Turning to say something to Finn, she came up short, suddenly realizing that it had been two years since she’d seen him in anything other than lantern light. She’d forgotten how very brown his eyes were. His hair, though fair, also had dark shades throughout, creating a mixture of blond, as though the sun had reached down to touch some of it, but not all of it. He appeared much older than his twenty-three years, certainly much older than the young man who’d come to haul Sophie away. His features contained a ruggedness they hadn’t possessed then, a toughness that caused her stomach to do an insane sort of quivering that made her very much aware she was of an age where she was leaving childhood behind. He’d taken as much care preparing for their outing as she. His jacket wasn’t the one of coarse material he usually wore, but was made of finer fabric, obsidian in color. His white neck cloth was pristine and stylishly knotted. His black brocade waistcoat must have cost him a fortune. For some reason, staring at him made it difficult to swallow, to breathe, to think.
It was always his company that had drawn her to him, but now, seeing him in gaslight, he offered her more than that. He was definitely a man now, incredibly pleasing to the eye. Being with him made her realize how much she herself had matured as well.
Placing his hand on the small of her back, Finn guided her between some tables, possessively protecting her from two rather bulky men who were laughing uproariously and seemed to be on the verge of tipping off their chairs and onto the floor. When they reached a lengthy wooden gleaming counter, he pushed a couple of gents aside, creating an empty pocket that he urged her to step into, then his chest was against her back, his arms coming around her protectively, shielding her in a way that warmed her heart to its core.
“Gillie!” he shouted.
The tallest woman she’d ever seen, one nearly as tall as Finn, who towered over many a man, turned from her task of filling a tankard from a tapped cast, glanced over at him, nodded, and returned to her chore. She had red hair, cut just below her ears. Lavinia knew no woman who wore her hair in such a manner. Leaning over the counter, she got a better look at her. Her clothing was rather simple: a shirt and a skirt. Unlike the serving girls, she apparently had no wish to flash her attributes. She finished filling the tankard, set it on the counter, and walked over to them. “Finn.”
“Gillie, this is Vivi.”
“Hello,” she said politely, but Lavinia could sense his sister was taking her measure, and she had an awful feeling she was going to be found lacking.
“Finn has told me so much about you,” Lavinia assured her.
Arching a brow, Gillie shifted her attention to her brother. “Has he now?”
“I didn’t even know a lady could own a business. How independent you are.”
“I like independence. What can I pour you?”
“Oh, uh.” She’d grown up with first her nanny, then her governess, then a footman simply providing her with a drink at meals and she sipped whatever she was given. On occasion she might ask for tea to be brought to her, but she didn’t think this place served tea. She certainly didn’t want to insult Finn’s sister by asking for something she didn’t have on hand. “Have you a... red wine?”
Gillie grinned. “I have. And you, Finn. Your regular?”
“Aye.”
“I’ll return in a flash.”
After she walked away, Finn leaned in. She could feel his breath tickling the side of her neck, in a delicious and wicked way. “Don’t you drink alcohol?”
“Only wine during dinner.”
“Maybe you’ll try some other things tonight.”
“You’ll have to guide me.”
“I accept the challenge and will guide you in any manner you want.” His voice had dropped a notch, gone deep and provocative, and she wasn’t certain they were still discussing spirits.
His sister returned with their drinks. “Sorry I can’t stay to visit, but we’re really busy tonight.”
“We can see to ourselves.” He picked up both drinks. “Hang on to my jacket.”
Knotting her fingers around his jacket sleeve, she followed him through the crowd, aware of gentlemen’s gazes washing over her, but no one reached out to touch her. She had the sense that being with Finn marked her as his, under his care, not to be trifled with. She became somewhat giddy with the thought that at such a young age he wielded so much power. Who knew where he might end up? In Parliament perhaps. Maybe as prime minister, himself. Although either of those achievements were years away, and she’d be long married by then. It saddened her to contemplate how their paths would soon be diverging.
Stopping at a table where two gents were sitting, both coming to their feet, he didn’t ask if they objected to his joining them, but merely set his tankard and her glass down. Sliding his arm around her waist, he brought her in against his side. “Vivi, my brothers Aiden and Beast.”
She could see some resemblance between Finn and Aiden—in the eyes, the jaw, the chin—but none at all when it came to Beast, whose height and the breadth of his chest made him quite intimidating. Although it might have been difficult to tell if they favored each other because his long, dark hair fell forward, obscuring a portion of his face. “It’s a pleasure. I’ve heard so much about you.” Which was a bit of a falsehood. She knew about Aiden’s gambling den, but nothing at all regarding Beast’s occupation.
“My brother hasn’t been quite so revealing about you,” Aiden said.
