*~~*~~*
Finn watched Hecate as she drifted into a place where he knew he could not follow. She was still there, sitting at the table, with the remains of their meal scattered over the surface.
Everything was as it should be for him, but Hecate’s face was locked into expressionless perfection. A statue of some fantastical queen, or Helen of Troy, Venus, Aphrodite…her visage would have outclassed all the classic beauties, leaving them wanting.
Her eyes were still that same strangely alluring mix of teal and blue, but he knew they were unfocussed, seeing things only she could see. He wondered at her gift yet again, knowing that no matter how long he was in her presence he would never really know her on that particular level.
She had come to his rescue and pulled him back from the doorway into the beyond. A feat he still had difficulty understanding.
But he owed her his life. That was without question. And every day he gave thanks to the Fates for ensuring their paths would cross.
He was also coming to the realisation that every day she stole a little piece more of his heart. Something that was both wonderful and frightening. Wonderful because she was who she was…a woman of such charm, beauty and sweetness that no man could ever wish for more than to receive her affections in return.
And frightening because he had no true idea of who he was, or what he had to offer her. He was certain he was no titled gentleman, and did not have lands or a fortune to lay at her feet.
All he had was his heart and he didn’t know if that would be enough.
But as he watched her blink her way back into the room with her guests, he knew as sure as the sun would rise on the morrow, that he would never view another woman the same way. He was over halfway to being in love with her.
What he was going to do about it…well, that remained to be seen. For now, he’d just enjoy the knowledge and try not to press her into anything she wasn’t ready or willing to explore. And that thought made him clench his teeth. He had a feeling that patience wasn’t his strong point.
“You are well, Miss Hecate?” Dal touched her shoulder gently.
She nodded. “Thank you, Dal. Yes. A bit of a vision…” She glanced around her, seeing the twins sitting wide-eyed across from her, and Lady Augusta looking worried.
“One of my little burdens to bear,” she chuckled. “Every now and again I find something that speaks to me. Quite loudly.”
“I saw a man who did that,” nodded Phoebe. “Only he was in the circus. Charged a sixpence, and said he could find things you’d lost.”
“You wasted sixpence to try and find Percy Standish,” snorted her sister. “Turns out he’d married two weeks ago.”
“Well the man told us where he was,” said Phoebe defensively. “We didn’t know. So I’m thinking he earned his sixpence.”
“It was in the paper the day before, silly,” sighed Hestia. “I found it on a table when we got home.”
Phoebe rolled her eyes.
“Anyway,” said Lady Augusta, cutting off any further bickering, “what can you tell us, Miss Hecate? About the miniature, that is?”
“I think I may have a sixpence, somewhere,” grinned Finn, happy to see a smile warm her eyes.
“You don’t. Believe me, I checked,” she grinned back. “Very well, then. If you must know, I saw a gentleman’s face, and he had eyes just like mine.” She held up her hand, forestalling the questions. “I do not know my Irish relatives, so it might well be one of them. But I also saw an older woman. In a cap of sorts. A servant perhaps? I really cannot say.”
“Hmm,” said Finn, thinking over her words. “Not a lot of help, but more than we had before. A place to start, I say.” He looked around. “What say you?”
A chorus of “aye’s” greeted his question, with the exception of an “indeed” from Dal.
“We could ask Digby and Harvey if they’d allow us to go with them into the village,” said Phoebe.
“That’s right. They’re going to see about more wood tomorrow. I’ll wager someone knows who used to live hereabouts. Or could point us in the right direction at least,” added Hestia.
“You plan on returning to the farm?” Lady Augusta’s eyebrows rose. “I am surprised you find it entertaining…”
“They’re ever so nice, my Lady. Really. You should see how hard they’re working on the building.”
Phoebe nodded in agreement. “They want to finish as much as they can before winter sets in. So we…” she nodded at Hestia, “sort of said we’d help with painting and the like. And…” she hesitated a little before lowering her voice “Hestia can sew.”
It came out as a whisper, as if those listening might be shocked into apoplexy.
