“A lady was with you. I don’t think she was a doxy, there was something in the way she moved that felt familiar. Well heeled.” Finn’s world was spinning now but he managed to stay in place and keep his expression as calm as he could. “So if you think you’re better than me, I might remind you that you also have some secrets, don’t you now?”
“An interesting road to take if you want my help and friendship,” he drawled. “Attempting to blackmail me over a one-night lover.”
“But she isn’t just for one night, is she? I’ve seen the same lady coming and going to your house ever since. In an unmarked carriage that I believe is fromyourstable.”
“You’re spying on me,” Finn asked and he couldn’t quite control his tone anymore.
“A man has many ways to make allies, or force them.” Francis leaned back in his chair. “But only if he must. Perhaps you need to think about your options when it comes to what I’ve suggested we partner in, yes? We can speak again after your sister’s wedding.”
Finn rose to his full height and glared down at Francis. “It seems I have a great deal to think about. Good day, sir.”
He didn’t shake hands or wait for a response. He simply pivoted on his heel and exited the room, signaling for his horse as he came out of the house and down the steps. He had trouble seating the animal as he thundered from the drive. All he could think about was the fact that Francis was spying. He’d seen Esme, even if he didn’t fully realize who she was.
To protect her, Finn had to go to her as soon as possible and inform her of this turn of events. And he had a very good idea of where she might be. He just didn’t know how she would respond to where he’d gone, what he’d done and what he now knew about a man who was looking more and more like a killer.
CHAPTER 19
Esme’s head snapped back as her sparring partner, a young fighter named Rose, landed a punch square across her jaw. She staggered and was only not deposited on her arse because they were fighting at fifty percent strength.
“Good punch, Rosie!” Campbell Ripley called from the side where he was coaching the session. “And oy, Esme, put your damned hands up. This is why you don’t fight with your mind somewhere else, girlie.”
Esme lifted her hands higher and just barely kept herself from glaring at Ripley. “Just been doing this for years,” she muttered to herself. “Not like I know what I’m doing.”
Her opponent’s eyes went wide, but Rose said nothing, and they just went back to circling. Esme forced herself by sheer will not to let her mind wander and the rest of the session didn’t produce any further unexpected result.
When it was over, she patted the other woman on the shoulder. “You’ve a good cross, Rose, and even your half-strength is powerful. If you want it, I think you have a future.”
Rose’s eyes widened. “Thank you, Hellion. That means a lot comin’ from you.”
Esme forced a smile and ducked out the ring, unrolling her hand wraps as she reached up to touch her tender jaw. She would likely have a bruise there by tomorrow. Bollocks it all.
She felt Ripley approach behind her and chose to ignore him. He was going to have things to say and she wasn’t certain she had the energy to have that particular conversation.
“I’ll stand here all day, Es,” he said after a moment had passed. “I’m not so easily put off.”
She faced him and looked up into his harsh, yet handsome face. “What are you on about?”
He arched a brow, the one with the stripe of a scar across it. “I’m also not a fool, Hellion.”
She sighed. “What do you think you know, Ripley? I don’t like games.”
“Who is he?” he said, and folded his arms across his broad chest.
She stopped fussing with her things and pursed her lips. “Who is who?”
“Whoever is making you blush when I ask the question. Whoever is making you forget yourself in the ring and just about everywhere else right now.”
She shook her head. The fact that her distraction was so obvious to Ripley didn’t bode well. She shrugged and hoped she could put him off, but before she could answer the door to the fighting area opened and Finn stepped into the room. She stared at him, watching him before he saw her. She had no idea why he was here during this time that Ripley usually had his club closed to gentlemen. She couldn’t imagine it was a good reason.
But despite her fears, she drank in the sight of him. He was so beautiful. So perfectly handsome in every way. She knew that body, that mouth, those hands and all they could do. Not just offer pleasure, but comfort. Support. They could make her want things she’d given up on having a long time ago.
“What the hell, Esme?” Ripley growled, his tone lower now as he caught her arm and forced her to look back up at him. “The Earl of Delacourt?”
She blinked. “What?”
“I have eyes.” He shook his head. “I can see you looking at him across the room, a room he very much shouldn’t be in, and you look like you just saw your favorite dessert.”
“Bugger off,” she muttered, and shook her arm free from his gentle grip. “You don’t know a fucking thing.”
