“I’ll just go through the first floor one last time, only because I’ll sleep better knowing I’ve done all I can to find her. Not for any other reason.”
“All right, then.”
“Perhaps I’d better search the terrace and garden again, too. I’ve been out there once, but there are a great many places to hide in a garden, especially one of that size.”
Derrick straightened from his slouch against the wall and sauntered toward Finn. “I’ll search the first floor, if you like. I’m going down in any case, for another game of chess with Lady Honora. The search will go more quickly if I help, and I know you’re anxious to conclude this business with Miss Somerset.”
“I am, only…” Only he hadn’t the faintest idea anymore whether concluding the business meant leaving Miss Somerset to her fate, or dragging her off to his bedchamber and kissing her senseless until she agreed to marry him.
“Only?” Derrick gave him a look of polite inquiry.
Finn dragged both hands down his face without replying, because when it came to Miss Somerset, he hadn’t the faintest idea how he felt, much less what to say. Christ, how had things gone so awry in just a few short days? It should have been a simple enough matter to persuade her to marry him, so how did he come to be chasing all over Hadley House, his stomach in knots over a woman he’d dismissed easily enough when he was betrothed to her?
“You know, Huntington, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if, despite her fair hair, blue eyes, jasmine scent, and air of general menace, you should find yourself fond of Miss Somerset, after all. If that should prove to be the case, allow me to offer you a few words of advice.”
Finn blew out a breath. “Very well. What is it?”
“Tell her you’re fond of her, instead of making her feel as if you’re marrying her only because it’s the honorable thing to do, as if you have no choice. Women are odd creatures, you see, Huntington. They like to think their betrothed has some affection for them. Rather foolish, but there it is.” Derrick thumped him on the back, then brushed past on his way down the stairs.
Finn watched him go until Derrick melted into the shadows on the first floor, then he followed after him, taking the stairs two at a time and muttering to himself the entire way.
But when he emerged onto the terrace he found nothing but silent darkness, and the anxiety that had started as a pinch in his chest deepened to dread. His boots rang against the stones beneath his feet, the sound fading to a faint crunch when he reached the loose pebbles on the main garden pathway.
But the garden was as silent as the terrace, the only sound his gasping breaths as he turned this way and that, searching for someone who wasn’t there.
Who wasn’t…anywhere.
“She’s in the library, Lord Huntington.”
Finn whirled around to find Lady Tallant standing on the terrace behind him, her red gown fluttering in the breeze, and behind her, a flickering light, just visible through the glass door that led from the terrace to the library. He hadn’t noticed it before.
“Miss Somerset, that is,” Lady Tallant added. “I assume you’re looking for her?”
“I—yes. Thank you.” Finn came down the pathway and mounted the stairs to the terrace door. He’d checked the library earlier in the evening and found it empty, but the light was indeed coming from there.
It was her. It had to be.
Finn bowed to Lady Tallant and started for the door, anxious not to waste any more time, but she stopped him with a touch to his arm.
“Miss Somerset is your betrothed, I believe, Lord Huntington? At least, I understand you intend to marry her?”
Finn frowned. He wasn’t sure why it should matter to Lady Tallant what his intentions were in regards to Miss Somerset, but for the sake of getting away, he inclined his head politely. “I’ve offered for her, yes.”
Twice.
“I see. It may interest you to know I found her alone in the garden with Lord Wrexley earlier this evening. Perhaps you should keep a closer eye on her, Lord Huntington.”
The moment she mentioned Wrexley’s name Finn’s eyebrows lowered in a scowl, but Lady Tallant didn’t stay to hear his reply. She simply gave him a cryptic half-smile, and retreated into the house, leaving him alone on the terrace.
He didn’t pause to make sense of this odd exchange but moved to the door that led into the library. He took care to enter quietly, but he needn’t have bothered, because whatever Miss Somerset was doing, she was so absorbed with it she didn’t notice him, not even when he closed the door behind him and crossed the room.
Not even when he was so close he could have reached out and touched her.
She was sitting at a long table with a book open before her and her back to him, with the feeble light from her lamp picking up the golden strands in her hair.
Finn drew closer still, his breath catching as the urge to touch her, to run his fingertips over her silky curls nearly sent him reeling. He had the strangest notion that if he did touch her, if she felt his hands in her hair, she’d tilt her head back until it touched his chest, and she’d smile up at him, her eyes darkening to deep cobalt as his mouth descended to her arched neck. It was so real, that image in his head, he reached out as if in daze, and let his fingers settle on her shoulder.
That was the moment his dream disintegrated into painful, ear-splitting reality.
