They had been looking for his sister for almost ten minutes, since there had been a question about the location of an extra case of wine she’d had set aside for the gathering. She never shared these little details with Finn and no one else on staff seemed to know what arrangements she’d made.
“You’re looking for your sister?” one of the partygoers asked from his elbow.
He turned and found it was an old school chum, Inglewood. “You’ve seen her?”
“I think she followed Ramsbury onto the terrace a bit ago. He was acting very strangely.”
Finn pursed his lips at that statement, but didn’t respond. Instead he weaved his way through the ballroom, Bentley on his heels, and peeked out onto the terrace. He didn’t see Marianne or Ramsbury anywhere.
“Perhaps she went into one of the parlors off the other side of the terrace, my lord,” Bentley suggested.
“Yes.” Finn shook his head, for he was beginning to get a very odd feeling. “Let’s go down the hall and check them.”
They left the ballroom together and moved up the hallway together. Finn opened each door as they did so, but found themall empty until the fourth chamber. There he stepped inside and froze.
Ramsbury lay across the settee before the fire, a lady pinned beneath him. But it wasn’t some widow from the shire who had come to the ball, it wasn’t a stranger he’d smuggled into the house for an assignation. It was Marianne. They were kissing passionately, her clothing half down, his trousers unfastened and so low on his waist that it was obvious what was happening.
They noticed him then and both gasped. Marianne turned her face into his shoulder, Ramsbury blocked her as if he could protect her. Protect her when he was ruining her.
“Marianne?” Finn watched as her fingers gripped harder against Ramsbury’s arm even if she refused to lift her face.
“Delacourt, please…” Ramsbury began.
But Finn didn’t let him continue. Incandescent rage washed over him as he crossed the room to the man he’d called friend. The man he’d only ever asked one thing of, and that was not to trifle with his sister. He’d always known Marianne had tender feelings for his friend, he hadn’t wanted her to be hurt. But now she would be. He cocked his fist back and swung, landing the punch across his friend’s cheek and knocking him off the settee onto his arse on the floor.
Marianne let out a screech as she lifted her gown up to cover her chemise and held it there.
Ramsbury stared up at him as he worked his jaw back and forth. “That was the best punch you’ve thrown in years.”
Finn shook his head. “Don’t try to joke your way out of this.” Without looking over his shoulder he said, “Bentley, get out. Say nothing of this, do you understand?”
“Yes, my lord,” Bentley said, his voice shaking as he exited the room and shut it behind him. At least Finn trusted his servants wouldn’t betray him.
“Finn,” Marianne began, her pale lips trembling.
Finn shook his head. There were tears in her eyes. Pain he hadn’t prevented and it would surely only get worse now. “Don’t say a word until you’ve fully dressed.” He wanted to make his tone gentle for her, but he couldn’t in his shock and horror. So he turned toward Ramsbury, who was still on the floor. “Get up, you foul fuck, and turn your back so my sister may have some privacy.”
Slowly, Ramsbury did as he’d been told and then reached down to fix his trousers. Finn growled out his anger and then turned his back on them both. He tried to draw breath, tried to calm his racing heart and mind.
“I need help buttoning,” Marianne said softly. “Sebastian, will you?”
Finn pivoted and stepped toward her. “There is no way in hell that Ramsbury is going to button your dress, Marianne.”
If he expected his sister to crumble, she surprised him. She met his gaze without hesitation and lifted her chin with a strength he hadn’t fully given her credit for. “Then we’re at an impasse. You have ordered me to dress. I cannot do it by myself. I doubt you want to go calling for servants to come in and have even more of them see what you’ve witnessed. And I have no interest inyoubuttoning my clothing, Phineas. I assume you don’t either. It seems a bit too intimate for siblings, does it not?”
He flinched at the idea. She had him there. And since he had no argument, he threw up his hands. “Fine, bloody hell, let him button you.” He pivoted on Ramsbury. “But I swear on everything that is holy, Ramsbury, if you go too far?—”
“I think we can all agree it’s a bit late for that. I have no intention of doing anything untoward to Marianne with you glaring daggers into my soul.”
Finn turned his back again because watching his friend dress his sister seemed like something he shouldn’t see.
“Do everyone a favor, Delacourt, and light some lamps or set the fire,” Ramsbury said softly. “I doubt you want to have whatever conversation is coming next in the dark.”
“No, we only soil things in the dark, don’t we?” Finn snapped. “You only sneak around in the dark ruining my sister.”
“Finn, light the fire, for heaven’s sake,” Marianne said, and now her voicewastrembling.
Finn drew another long breath and moved to the low fire. He threw in a log and stirred the flames with the poker. Behind him he heard Marianne and Ramsbury talking in low tones. He pursed his lips in frustration. “Stop whispering, you two.”
