Finn raised an eyebrow. “And you know this how?”
“I read it in a book,” she chuckled.
“Do you want children, Hecate?” Finn tilted his head to one side.
She stayed silent for a minute or two, thinking over his question. Finally, she nodded. “Yes, I believe I would like a child, Finn.” She bit her lip. “But I have to be realistic. My injuries after the accident were serious. Edmund once referred to them as severe. My hope is that only my bones were involved. But there’s always a chance that I cannot bear a child because of it. I don’t know.”
“You cannot see what lies ahead for yourself?”
“In this instance, no.” She sighed.
“And yet you knew that you and I would…be together…” He smiled that wicked smile she adored.
She couldn’t help but smile back. “Yes, I knew that.”
“But you cannot see the future…for just yourself?”
Hecate shrugged. “Finn, it’s so hard for me to explain any of it, especially when it comes to looking ahead. I feel things. I see things. I sense something is coming or about to happen. My gifts have magnified everything that you or others might call intuition. And some of my other skills have nothing to do with any of that. I still don’t know the full scope of what I can do.” She gazed at him, willing him to understand the inexplicable.
“I have a scrying bowl that shows me glimpses of what may lie ahead. Sometimes my dreams foretell events, and sometimes it’s as simple as touching something andknowing, just like that.”
“Simple is not a word I’d use in connection with your gifts, as you call them, sweetheart. They saved my life.”
“Do they bother you, Finn? Are you not worried at the thought of having a wife that others might well call a witch?”
He grinned, and reached down, lifting her leg up onto the seat beside him. One hand slid to her calf, and he massaged it. “Not at all. You’remywitch.” His hand slid a little higher. “I like having my personal and private witch near me. Letting me touch her and touching me in her turn. I like it very much indeed…”
His hand slipped even higher, and Hecate sighed. “So do I.”
*~~*~~*
They reached Ridlington Chase just as the snow began, late in the afternoon. There seemed to be lights everywhere as the carriage made its way up the drive to the front door, and Hecate hung from the window, ignoring the fat snowflakes, eager to see the Chase once again.
Finn couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, even though his mouth was dry and his palms damp at the prospect of facing the Baron—head of the Ridlington family.
The front door opened just as the horses drew to a halt and a stately figure walked out onto the top step.
“Chidwell,” shrieked Hecate. “OhChidwell…” She scrambled out, ignoring Finn’s attempt to help her, and walked quickly up the steps to administer a huge hug on the awe-inspiring gentleman standing there.
“There now, Miss Hecate. Some decorum if you please.”
Finn observed his face, however, which had warmed into a smile, and was followed by a quick hug as he disentangled himself from Hecate’s warm embrace.
“Put the butler down, youngster,” came a voice from behind Chidwell.
“Edmund,” she said, “Edmund.”
More hugs followed, and Finn observed the tall gentleman with the most imposing set of eyebrows he’d yet to encounter.
“My turn. Let go, Edmund. It’s my turn…” A beautiful woman sailed up to the happy group, managing to hug Hecate. “Welcome, lovey. I am so glad to see you here. We’ve missed you…” She looked up. “And this must be Mr. Casey.” She released Hecate. “Won’t you both come inside? It’s just begun to snow, so your arrival is most timely…”
She smiled at Finn. “I’m Rosaline. And I’d hazard a guess that you’ll be family before too long, so Rosaline is how you will address me.”
Finn bowed. “As you wish, Ma’am.”
She raised an eyebrow. While not as impressive as her husband’s, it got the point across.
“Er…Rosaline.”
