Hecate spared a moment to wonder if or when her turn might come. She had avoided even considering the notion for most of her life, since she was haunted by the loneliness of her own childhood, and the fear she would not know how to be a mother. Then she found Finn, and he looked up with a smile that made her heart dance. She didn’t have to worry about being a parent—because she wouldn’t be handling such matters on her own.
*~~*~~*
Later that afternoon, Edmund and Finn found themselves alone in one of Ridlington’s many rooms, this one containing a rather manly set of leather chairs, a chessboard, and plenty of books that might well amuse a gentleman seeking to enjoy some solitary time.
“Edmund.” Finn looked at the other man. “It has occurred to me that I have been remiss in one duty that I should have performed as soon as we got here.”
Edmund watched him carefully. “Oh?”
“Shall we sit?”
“All right.”
Finn cleared his throat. “As head of the Ridlington family, it is only correct that I apply to you for permission to wed Hecate. My circumstances are limited at best, and I will freely admit I don’t have the resources to support her at this time. But I have a brain in my head and I can work. I will devote my life to keeping her happy and comfortable. I’m not sure how yet, since I’ve been a soldier as long as I can remember. But I’ll do anything in the world for that woman.” He paused. “So there it is. That’s why I’m asking your permission, sir.”
There was dead silence for a few moments, which Finn found a bit disconcerting.
Then he saw Edmund’s mouth begin to curve upward, and moments later the Baron was curled up in his chair almost howling with laughter.
“What?” asked Finn, frowning. “What on earth did I say that was so funny? You expected this, Edmund. You told me yourself that it looked as though I was going to be family…”
Edmund laughed even more.
Finn sighed, stood and ambled over to the side of the room where a small rolling stand held what looked like a snifter of whiskey. He poured two healthy glasses and returned to Edmund, who was down to a low chuckle and a hiccup.
“Drink this.” He held out one of the glasses.
Edmund accepted it, they clinked in a toast and both men took a hefty swallow.
Finn coughed. “By God, that’s strong stuff.” He stared at the glass, realising it was some kind of rum instead of the whiskey he'd been expecting.
“You’ll need it if you’re planning on marrying Hecate,” smirked Edmund, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankles. "And yes, it's real rum. The sort real sailors drink."
Finn sat. “So does this mean you grant your permission? Do we have your blessing?”
“Good lord, man. Do you haveanyidea what Hecate would have done to me if I’d refused?” He shook his head and chuckled. “That’s what made me laugh. She might not have turned me into a toad, but I wouldn’t even bet against that.” He took another drink. “D’you know, when she was very young, she discovered she could make us all itch?”
“What?” Finn gaped at the other man. “Itch?”
Edmund nodded. “I believe she was barely four years old, but if she was upset or irritated, all of a sudden we were the sufferers, punished for whatever we’d done that had made her angry.” He shrugged. “And yes, we did tease her. She was the youngest.”
“But…itch?”
“The nurse spent hours trying to understand why five of her charges had suddenly been afflicted with rashes. Ones that disappeared early in the evening. Which was, of course, when Hecate went to bed.”
“I had no idea…” said Finn.
“That’s why I laughed. Firstly, at the thought of what revenge she would exact on me—it would be unbearable so of course you have my blessings, and secondly at the memory of our nurse’s face when she saw our matching rashes.”
“She is quite something, isn’t she?” Finn allowed himself a grin.
Edmund nodded and put his glass aside. “She is unique. One of a kind. She used to be an innocent but that bastard ripped her that away from her. She suffered too, more than any of us could imagine. But to our surprise, she emerged from that experience not changed…just more mature.”
“No more itches?”
The Baron grinned. “No more itches. But the gifts are still there, Finn. You’re going to marry a woman the likes of which you’ll not find anywhere else, or possibly even in this lifetime. Do you understand that?”
“I do, Edmund. I could not love Hecate the way I do if I didn’t accept that unusual part of who she is. I may never fully comprehend it, but I am not afraid of it. She saved my life with it. Did she tell you that?”
