She slipped out to the carriage that was waiting for her there and briefly gave her direction to the driver who held the door for her. She gave one last glance to Finn, watching her from the doorway, and then got in. The carriage began to move and only then did she flop back against the seat and draw a deep, full breath at last. The man seemed to keep her from doing that when she spent any time around him.
He had unmasked her in every way now. She had allowed it. But instead of offering censure, he offered protection. He offered assistance. She would have a great deal to consider now, a great many decisions to make.
And not all of them were about the investigation of her father’s death. Because when she thought of Finn, it wasn’t just of his offer to investigate her cousin. He made her think of passionate kisses, warm arms, pleasure and…and a future she had surrendered long ago. One she couldn’t allow to comecreeping into her thoughts and ruin the life she had now. It wasn’t real.
Somehow she had to recall that.
CHAPTER 11
Esme had never been one to avoid a problem. It hadn’t been a luxury she could have for many years. If she didn’t face things head on, she could be put in a dangerous position. And yet, two days after her last conversation with Finn, she still hadn’t been able to make herself think too hard about his offer to help her.
His offer to reopen a wound she’d tried to let heal on its own, despite the pain.
She shook her head and stood up from the settee where she had been trying to read and went into her room down the hall. She crouched down and pulled a small box from beneath the bed, then sat down on the rug, her back against the bedpost and sighed as she stared at it. It was a plain thing, something she’d bought for a few shillings on a whim. She opened it and stared at the items inside.
There was a swatch of cloth, rich and green that matched her eyes. It was from the gown she’d been wearing the night she’d fled her home, feeling the danger of her cousin’s intent at her heels with every uncertain step. It had been torn and dirtied, eventually repaired. Then made over again and again until it was so worn out that there was no use trying to fix it anymore. Shehad enough other gowns by then, paid for by her own labor. And yet she’d kept one swatch of the worn fabric.
She removed it and fingered what was left of the fine silk. It made her think of Finn’s dressing gown when she’d last seen him. Made her think of silk moving across flesh in the dark.
She swallowed and carefully unfolded the material to find the real treasures she kept safely within. There was a miniature of her father and an old enamel pendant that had belonged to her mother. The pearls that outlined the simple blue circle were worth something, but she’d never sold them even in her darkest hour as she tried to cling to what little she had left.
She picked up the miniature of her father and stared at it. It had been painted when she was very young, when her mother was still alive. His hair had still been dark, a little too long, curling around his forehead. His long nose had a little crookedness to it and she smiled at the imperfection he had always hated but she had loved for its uniqueness. His green eyes were the same as hers and were bright as he stared out at the artist with a warmth to his expression that was usually reserved for his family. Had he been looking at her mother at that moment? Or her, held in the arms of some friend or family member?
She gasped as a tear splashed onto her hand. When she reached up she felt dampness on both cheeks.
“Oh, dearest.”
She glanced up to find Jane in her doorway. Her friend came across the room and promptly sat down on the floor beside her to put her arm around her. They sat like that for a moment, both staring at her father’s small portrait.
“He was a handsome devil,” Jane said at last.
Esme laughed. “He was. Lordy, but I miss him. It’s so silly, I’m not the first woman to lose a father and I certainly won’t be the last but?—”
“You needn’t minimize the pain,” Jane said. “I didn’t know my father at all and am probably better for it. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t mourn yours out of penance.”
“I suppose.” Esme turned her father’s portrait over in her lap so she wouldn’t have to look at his face for a moment. She drew a few breaths. “I’ve been thinking about what to do regarding Finn’s offer.”
Jane nodded slowly. Esme had told her friend all about everything the moment she got home. Jane had, surprisingly, not offered much advice. And now Esme needed it.
“What do you think I should do?”
“You know how I feel about your endangering yourself when it comes to that bastard cousin of yours. But…” Jane took a long, unsteady breath. “I think you ought to let the earl investigate.”
Esme jerked her face toward her friend. “What? Why?”
“Because I’ve watched you rolling this over in your head for two days and you had the same lost expression you did when I found you. Because you’ve never gotten justice and if there’s a chance of it in this world, you shouldn’t walk away from it.” Jane reached down and turned the portrait of Esme’s father over again. “You should because maybe you could go home.”
“This is my home,” Esme said. “I already told you that no one in Society would ever accept me back.”
“Perhaps not, but I would wager if this is resolved, if your horrible cousin is hung or transported and the next in line takes over, that you’ll get at least a settlement. Even if it’s just to cover up what was found. You could be set for life. You wouldn’t have to do…” Jane waved a hand around the small room. “This. Or get black eyes for a living. Or lie on your back for it.”
Esme rested her head back against the post and stared out at nothing as those words worked through her. “I suppose there is some part of me that wouldn’t mind more stability. Though I don’t hate this little home we share, even though the frontwindow leaks air. I certainly don’t hate what I do. I’m good at it. It’s satisfying to know I can fight my way, quite literally, to freedom.”
“But I like your face, Esme,” Jane said with a laugh that faded quickly. “And we both know that what you do now will take it away at some point. Thateverythingwe do to survive chips away at our bodies and our souls.”
Esme nodded slowly. “I suppose if that happened and I went to live the life of an eccentric with a dozen adorable cats in the countryside, you could come with me.”
Jane laughed. “I’ve always liked cats.”
