“Such as?”
“He’s involved in illegal activities and your father was aware, refusing to invest or make any inheritance available before his death, and threatening to reveal Francis to authorities, the scandal be damned.”
Her lips parted. “I-I had no idea. He never said a word to me.”
“I suppose he didn’t want you to worry,” Finn said. “But that is certainly a motive for murder. Not only would Francis have access to at least some of the funds he so desperately desired, but there would no longer be the threat of transportation or even hanging.”
“His crimes are so bad?”
“Fraudulent behavior and treason, plus the murder if he did commit it.” He shook his head.
She wrinkled her brow at his troubled expression. “You look upset about this, beyond your concern for me. Why?”
He smiled at her slightly. “Leave it to you to see that.” He sighed. “Francis also let it slip that your father was warning friends off of investing with him. Telling them he was a bad bet. But he…he never told me that. I wonder why. Did he think I wouldn’t care about your cousin’s bad deeds, that I might be open to them?”
She stared at him, and in that moment all her feelings for him, all the reasons she had tried to keep herself separate, became so perfectly clear. Finn was wonderful, he was good and decent, he was everything she’d ever dreamed of when she still dreamed of marrying and living happily ever after like some princess in a fairytale.
And she was in love with him. Deeply and powerfully and passionately, despite all the reasons why they could never be together.
She cupped his face in both her hands, tilting it up toward her as he continued to kneel at her feet. “If my father didn’t tell you, it’s because he knew you to be an excellent judge of character all on your own. He knew you would see Francis for what he is the moment he tried to recruit you, just as you did. Because you are too good a man to ever trade your scruples for money or power.”
His eyes widened at that passionate defense of him, then he lifted up on his knees slightly, bringing his face equal with her own. “Esme,” he said softly. At that moment, the carriage slowed and he glanced at the door behind them with a sigh. “We’ve arrived. I made special arrangements for us to be taken into a back entrance and the vehicle brought to a door so we can enter my home directly without being seen.”
“To keep me safe,” she said.
He nodded. “I’ll also arrange for a few guards for the property who will be certain no one tries to enter, and my servants will be very clear on that score, even for my sister’s wedding. Only those who were invited.”
She flinched. There were details to be worked out, of course. She couldn’t stay holed up with Finn forever, no matter how lovely that idea sounded. But for now, the idea of letting him protect her, even for a while, was so powerful. Just as her feelings were powerful, overwhelming, heartbreaking and life changing all at once.
“I’ll do as you like,” she said.
He looked surprised that she would agree, but when the door was opened, he pushed back, exited the carriage first and after looking around, handed her out and almost immediately through a door into the back part of his house.
His servants waiting there looked utterly confused and he held up a finger to them as if to say, “One moment,” before he took her arm and led her to a parlor toward the back of thehouse. Away from the front windows by the street, of course. Because she wasn’t safe there.
The reality of that sank in as he kissed her hand. “I’ve some explaining to do and other preparations to start. But please, have a drink or I’ll have them send tea in.”
“A drink is fine,” she said past a suddenly dry throat.
He nodded and then slipped from the room and closed the door behind himself. Leaving her alone with feelings, confusion and fears that now began to grip her with an icy fist she couldn’t dodge, no matter how good a fighter she’d trained herself to be.
CHAPTER 20
It took far too long for everything Finn needed to arrange to be begun. He’d had explanations to make, even if they weren’t the complete truth, and protection to arrange. He’d asked for the countess chamber, which was empty and attached to his own, to be prepared for Esme. He didn’t want to assume she would want to sleep in his bed every night, but he needed her close. Needed to be able to crack open her door and hear her breathing.
When it was all done, it had been nearly an hour since their arrival home. He made his way back toward the parlor where he’d left her, but as he reached it, he heard grunting inside, and thumping. His heart leapt with fear as he threw the door open.
Only to find Esme on the settee, raining punches down on one of the cushions of the couch. She glanced up when he came in, her cheeks flaming red and tears streaming down them.
“Finn,” she said.
He crossed to her in a few long steps and sat down next to her, dragging her into his arms. She was trembling, the hard exterior she’d developed to protect herself cracked by the reality of her situation.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered against her hair. “I shouldn’t have left you alone so long, not after everything I told you.”
She was breathing heavily, but she managed to gasp out, “I needed to be alone. I needed to—to feel it.”
He held her closer, marveling at her strength, which never seemed to cease. “What can I do?”
