Another nod from his brother as though he’d suspected her name wasn’t as simple as the one by which Finn had introduced her. “Enjoy what remains of your evening.”
Finn waited until he could no longer hear the tread of his brother’s big feet before looking at Vivi. “I’m sorry you had to learn that about me the way you did. Mick has always taken the circumstances of his birth personally.”
She placed her warm hand over his balled fist resting beside his tankard, and he wondered when she’d removed her gloves. “I spoke true, Finn. I don’t care.”
Relaxing his hand, turning his palm up, he unfurled his fingers and threaded them through hers. “I should have told you.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I thought you might want nothing more to do with me.”
“Silly Finn.” Lifting their joined hands, she pressed a kiss to his knuckles. Whenever she went away for the winter, she always returned changed, but this time the differences in her seemed more pronounced, as though she’d shed the cloak of youth.
There was still an innocence to her, but not a childishness. Her purity was a product of her life, her upbringing. She was sheltered and protected; he found no fault with that. He didn’t want her to have to experience the harshness of his world.
“Tell me everything,” she said softly. “How you came to have your family.”
“Not here.” The din wasn’t made for sharing something so private and personal. If he was honest, he wasn’t certain he wanted to look into her eyes as he told her, didn’t want to see the sorrow or the shock or the disgust. The darkness would better suit the telling. “Do you like the wine?”
She laughed lightly. Her laughter always managed to reach into his soul, tickle it, warm it. “I haven’t even tried it.”
He watched as she lifted her glass, sipped, and the delicate muscles of her throat worked. Then her tongue gathered up the lingering drops from her lips as he longed to do. “It’s quite tasty.”
“Would you like to try beer?”
With a nod, she pressed her teeth into her bottom lip and her eyes twinkled as though he’d asked her to do something truly naughty. He wished he had. He scooted the tankard toward her, again mesmerized by the delicate way in which she drank. Then chuckled low as her face scrunched up, an expression that would have looked ghastly on any other woman but was endearing on her. It made him want to lean over and kiss those puckered lips.
“It’s so bitter,” she exclaimed.
“I suppose you have to develop a taste for it. Perhaps we’ll try the brandy later.”
She glanced around. “Do you spend a lot of time here?”
“Most evenings. Not much else to do otherwise.”
“I can’t imagine it. My evenings are filled with readings, and recitals, and theater. Then this year, of course, there will be balls and dinners. I fear I might not be able to meet you every Tuesday.”
“I’ll be waiting all the same.”
“I hate for you to waste your time. We could have a signal—drapes drawn aside or a candle in the window.”
“We don’t need a signal, Vivi. Waiting for you brings me pleasure. If you don’t come, I missed out on a pint. Where’s the harm in that?”
“Oh, Finn.” Her fingers tightened around his. “Things are changing between us.”
He nodded, acknowledging the changes might be more than she realized. “If you don’t want them to, then tell me not to wait for you ever again.”
“It just about kills me not to see you when we’re at the estate. I think I would die if I didn’t see you when I was in London.”
He knew with certainty that he would if he couldn’t see her, but he feared frightening her away if she knew the depths of his feelings, so he grinned cockily. “Then see me you shall.”
“I’m ever so glad you brought me here. Now on the nights when I’m not with you, I can envision you within these walls, arguing with your brothers. Laughing with your sister.” Her brow furrowed. “Where’s your other sister?”
“Fancy? Probably abed. She’s just a child.” She was only nine, having come late into their mum’s life. She was the only one to whom Ettie Trewlove had given birth, the result of a man taking advantage. While he and his brothers had been only fourteen when she was born, they’d made a vow to protect her, their mum, and any other woman who was treated unfairly by unscrupulous men.
“I do want to know how your family came to be.”
It wasn’t an uplifting tale, but he owed her the story.
