Little by little, she relaxed, letting her shoulder remain tucked under his arm, and finally allowing her body to soften so her head made contact with the side of his chest.
He squeezed her shoulder gently, and a second later, she felt his chin touch the top of her head, resting there. This was not helping her determine what to tell William. This was muddling her brain and causing her pulse to race.
If anyone she knew saw her, alone, being embraced by this stranger and apparently being unfaithful to her fiancé! Dear God, the recriminations, the ostracism from her social group, and the disappointment of her family as she brought shame upon the Malloy name.
Rose sighed. This was precisely the type of mess Reed was referring to at the party — the type that would give him more gray hair.
“I’m sorry,” Finn said, his voice a gentle murmur. “I know I’ve put you in a bad situation.”
To put it mildly. Yet she didn’t bother to voice her thought.
“I had better go,” she said straightening. She ought to sit alone in her room and examine her feelings. She ought to think about the best way to tell William. She ought to—
“Did you come by carriage?” he asked.
When she nodded, he said, “I’ll walk you to it.”
She hesitated. If they were seen ... On the other hand, it was still early on Sunday, most people yet in church or at home, as she should be.
“All right,” she agreed and felt his arm slip from her shoulders as she stood. She shivered, still sensing where his touch had been. Stepping away from the bench, she watched him rise to his feet, a head taller than most men she’d ever met. He turned toward her and took a slow step and then another.
“Finn?” she queried.
He shrugged. “I’m fine.”
Yet he wasn’t. He had a pronounced limp, like Miss Farmer at the cooking school, though he walked steadily enough. Rose fell into step beside him. She had discovered that the school’s assistant principal had had a stroke at a young age. What had caused Finn’s injury?
Unfortunately, so estranged from the man beside her and so shocked at his living, breathing presence, she could not find the words to ask him. It would feel like prying into a stranger’s life.
“I can scarcely believe I’m walking along the dock with you,” he said, stating the very thought that had flitted across her brain.
In silence, she went over their brief conversation. Finn hadn’t made any declaration that he still wanted her or that he had come back to claim her — even though he had crossed the ocean only after discovering her engagement.
On the other hand, she knew precisely where she was with William.
“Where are you residing?” she asked as they neared her carriage. Would he disappear again, leaving her to think this was all an incredulous dream?
“I’m staying above The Restaurant Parisien on Winter Place. Do you know it?”
Of course she knew it! It was right across the Common from her home, and being aptly named, it served delicious French cuisine, which Rose had sampled in the second floor dining room that allowed women. She’d even told her teacher, Miss Sweeney, that she wanted to learn how to makecoq au vinin a similar fashion to Chef Ober’s.
“So you know where to find me,” he said, as if he imagined she would start dropping in at his room the way she had done as a foolish girl of eighteen.
Her horse stamped its foot and whinnied, and she patted its glossy neck. How would she and Finn part? With a handshake?
“You’ll be fine getting home?” he asked.
“Perfectly fine.” Yesterday — and for all the yesterdays she could remember — Finn had let her think him dead. Now, he was worrying whether she could make it safely from East Boston to Beacon Hill? “How will ... that is, will I see you again?”
“I didn’t come all this way to talk to you once on a bench.” He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. He’d never been the type of man to kiss a woman’s knuckles like a dandy. Instead, bowing his head, Finn turned her hand over and held her palm against his mouth, pressing her fingers to his cheek. Briefly, he closed his eyes.
Rose could feel his warm breath through her thin summer glove. That he breathed at all was a miracle to her still.
For a long moment, he remained that way while her heart beat a wild tattoo in her chest.
Then he lifted his gaze to hers. “Somehow, I knew you would come here today.”
She nodded. It had been inevitable.
