“What would it take to prove it?” Claire asked.
“A confession, probably. Anything else would be circumstantial. Only the late duchess knows what really happened. And the truth went to the grave along with her.”
“Is there anything he loves? Something you could hold over his head? His mother? A relative?”
God, he liked the way she thought. She was brilliant. But Finn had exhausted that avenue of thought. The earl had no one he cared about more than himself. “No.”
“What are his wants and desires?”
“Money, money, and money. And revenge against our family.”
“What does he have against you? What makes him covet what you have?”
“He’s a greedy man,” Finn murmured, more to himself than to her.
The waltz stopped finally, and Finn couldn’t think of any other reason to keep her with him. Not without ruining her with his attention. He delivered her back to her family, which waited on the skirts of the room. “Miss Thorne,” he said with a bow. “Thank you for the dance.” Then he turned and strode into the crowd.
It wasn’t until moments later that he realized she was dancing again. And she was in the arms of the Earl of Mayden.
Twenty
“Miss Thorne, your father should have warned the guests in his invitation that you are so beautiful. I find that you quite take my breath away,” the Earl of Mayden said. She looked into his eyes, and in them she saw… nothing. There was nothing inside this man. Claire was certain of it.
“You flatter me, my lord,” Claire said, looking over the earl’s shoulder. Finn stalked the edge of the room and suddenly took a lass’s hand and pulled her onto the dance floor. Claire lined up facing the earl for a reel, and Finn took a place three spaces down the line from Mayden.
The music began, and Claire and the earl circled one another, and then moved apart. Claire was glad when he moved to the next lady, because he made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She gave the next man a wide smile, and he stammered as he went around her. They separated again, and Finn wasn’t any closer to her. Suddenly, the man across from her yelped as Finn grabbed him by the collar and jerked him over to switch places.
“What the devil do you think you’re doing?” Finn hissed as he circled around her.
“Dancing, my lord.” She smiled at him. “Have we met?” she asked with what she knew was an impudent grin.
“Don’t play with that man, Claire,” he warned.
Claire had no intention of playing with the earl. She intended to expose him. To ease some of Finn’s burden, if she could. He deserved a life free of men who wanted to do him harm. She could want to do him harm all day long, but no one else could hurt him, blast it all.
The line moved again and Claire found herself across from the earl again. “You dance divinely, my lord,” she said. “I’m afraid I feel a bit like a bumpkin out here on the dance floor. We don’t have this dance where I’m from.”
“Where might that be?” the earl asked, his tone amiable. But the tone didn’t match his eyes.
“I’m sure you’ve never heard of it.”
“Fortune smiled on your father, that he was able to claim you at last.”
Claire tripped over her foot. She laughed lightly as she righted herself. “I’m sure you’re mistaken, my lord. My father has always claimed me. He just chose to let me rusticate in the country instead of in town. At my own behest, of course.”
The earl’s eyes narrowed. “Your father didn’t know you existed until a few months ago. Then he went away with your mother and came home with three children no one remembers her birthing.” He chuckled, but it wasn’t a mirthful sound. Not at all like Finn’s laugh.
“What do you want, Mayden?” Claire asked. Some-times it was best to take a direct route.
He lifted a brow at Claire. “I want everything the Duke of Robinsworth stole from me.”
“I would have thought you paid him back when you took his wife’s life.”
The hand that held hers tightened painfully. Tears came to Claire’s eyes, but she blinked them back and refused to let him know he’d hurt her. He squeezed harder. Claire stopped dancing and stepped closer to him. “It’s a pity that you haven’t earned back any of the things you lost, isn’t it?” she asked sweetly, like she spoke of the weather.
Mayden’s lips pulled back from his teeth. It was time to change partners again. Mayden stayed in place, however, and didn’t stop dancing. “Tell Finn I want Katherine back,” he grated out. “Or I might just have to take you up to the turrets and see if you can fly.”
Oh, she could fly. And sting. And do all sorts of things he couldn’t even imagine. “Tell him yourself,” Claire bit out. “After you catch your breath.”
“Beg your pardon?” he asked.
“I think you’ll suddenly find yourself unable to breathe, my lord.” She rested one hand on each of his shoulders, stepped up on tiptoe, and whispered in his ear. “Right now,” she said, just as she raised her knee between his legs and hit him directly in the groin.
Mayden doubled over and fell to the floor. The quartet stopped playing. The dancers stopped dancing. Finn rushed forward. Claire stepped on Mayden’s hand as she walked past him, grinding her heel into his fingers as he lay there on the parquet floor. He squealed like a scalded baby.
“Beg your pardon,” Claire said. “I’m so clumsy.” She leaned down next to him and said softly so only he could hear. “Don’t ever threaten me again, or I’ll feed your stones to you on a silver spoon.” She motioned at two of the footmen, who stood in shock at the edge of the room. “The earl needs some help getting off the dance floor. I think he must have eaten some bad prawns. He had a most horrible stomach cramp.”
Claire bustled away from Mayden as the footmen hefted him to his feet.
***
Finn watched the entire tableau and wanted to grin like a fool when Claire kneed Mayden in the groin. But what she did was risky, and he didn’t like her putting herself in a situation like that. She should have cut a wide berth around Mayden. He wouldn’t take kindly to this slight, not now that his pride was wounded. He would retaliate. And he would do so with vicious glee.
Finn took Claire’s hand and laid it upon his arm. She winced as he did so, however, and fear leaped directly to his heart. “What’s wrong with your hand?”
“The good earl has a viselike grip, for one so scrawny,” Claire said. Her hand must hurt like the devil, because she had tears shimmering in her eyes.
“Would you care for a turn in the garden, Miss Thorne?” Finn asked.
“That would be delightful.” He walked her toward the double doors at the back of the room, but stopped at the buffet and broke a piece off the ice sculpture in the center of the table.
He wrapped it in his handkerchief and held it tightly in one hand as he tried to walk casually toward the dark path he knew he’d find in the garden. He needed to be sure Claire’s hand wasn’t broken. And he needed to hold her, to assure himself she was all right.
If there had been any doubt in Finn’s mind that he loved this lady, he’d dispensed with it the moment she’d been in danger. He would have killed for her. He might still kill for her. He would kill Mayden without blinking if the earl dared to lay a hand on her again.
Finally, the cool night air embraced them and Finn relaxed a little. He pulled her down the path until he found a bench and motioned for her to sit. He took her hand in his, wincing when she did at the pain of his touch. He placed the ice-filled handkerchief in her palm. “Can you close your fist?” he asked, flexing his own to show her what he wanted to confirm.
She opened and closed it slowly. Her hand wasn’t broken, but it was already bruising, and for that, Finn wanted to rip Mayden’s head off his shoulders and shove it up his arse. “What the devil were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t,”
Claire admitted. “He asked me to dance, and the rules of this world state that if I decline him, I have to decline everyone for the rest of the night.” She stuck out her bottom lip a little. Was she pouting? “I wanted to get to dance with you again, at least once.”
“So, you weren’t trying to get information out of Mayden?” His heart slowed a bit.
“Well, that was an unexpected benefit.” She grimaced as he poked at her hand and maneuvered her fingers. She pushed the ice back at him. “It’s cold,” she complained.
“Use it,” he ordered.
She arched a brow at him and smiled. “I think I like you when you’re being all masterful.”
She hadn’t seen masterful. He’d spank her bare bottom if she dared to ever go near Mayden again.
Her good hand stroked down the side of his cheek. “You can stop worrying. I’m fine.”
“What did Mayden say to you?” Finn looked at her there in the dark. Good God, she was pretty. She took his breath away.
“He told me he wants Katherine back. And made some threats.” She winced as she laid her hurt hand in her lap. He ached for her and would have taken her pain inside himself if he were able.
“What kind of threats?” His heart started to flutter wildly again. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Ever.
“Something about tossing me from the turrets at the Hall to see if I can fly.” She giggled. “Little does he know that I really can.”
“I’ll kill him,” Finn grunted as he jumped to his feet and started toward the door.
“Don’t leave me,” Claire cried.
“What is it? Your hand?”
“No, I just need you.”
If anyone had told him that love would hurt so much, he’d never have believed it. But Finn felt as if his soul had been laid bare to her. He sat down beside her on the bench again.
***
Claire had never seen him so handsome as with thoughts of her reflected in his eyes. In a different time and a different place, she could love him. She could love him with all her heart.
“Is your hand any better?”
She tested her grip. “A little, I think.” If she were in the land of the fae, she would take advantage of the healing waters there. But she would have to deal with the pain, since the waters couldn’t travel from one world to another.
“I should kill him for that alone,” Finn growled.
“I can think of so many more reasons to kill him.” Claire tried not to laugh, but suddenly, she found the situation hilarious.
“Are you all right?” Finn asked. “You’re not delirious, are you?”
If she was, it was because of him, not because of the Earl of Mayden. “I’m perfectly fine, aside from a little bit of pain in my hand. Stop fretting.”
Just then, a bug buzzed by her ear. She swatted at it. It bounced off her hand and then landed on the bodice of her dress. “Finn,” she warned.
“What?”
She pointed toward the bug, which was as big as Finn’s watch fob. “There’s a bug on me.”
Finn’s eyes met hers, and they were full of amusement. “It’s just a little, tiny bug,” he chided. “It won’t eat much.”
“Finn,” she warned. Claire had a healthy respect for bugs, but bugs did not like faeries. They resided with mutual respect most days, but this one was crossing the line by actually landing on her person.
“Hold on, I’ll get it.” Finn took aim with his fingers the way one might with a billiard cue, preparing to thump it away. But right when Finn flicked it, it jumped. Claire heaved a sigh of relief. At least it was gone.
Then buzzing began in her hair. “Claire,” Finn warned, reaching for her hair. “Be still,” he warned. But Claire was already flipping over, trying to shake the beast out of her curls. “Claire, stop,” he cajoled. “If you’ll be still, I’ll get it.”
But Claire couldn’t be still. A creature with at least six legs was burrowing in her hair, and it wasn’t happy at all with its location, if the amount of noise it was making was any indication.
Pins from Claire’s hair flew in every direction as she tried to dislodge the beast. Finally, Finn riffled through her hair long enough to get his fingers on it. “I have it,” he said. “Now be still so I can untangle it.” He chuckled. “Who would have thought you could knock the Earl of Mayden to his knees but an insect could get you this worked up.” He began to untangle the bug, strand by strand of hair.
Finally, he said, “I got it. It’s free.”
But then something hard and heavy as a coin hit her breast. “See, it’s out of your hair,” he said. But now it was in her décolletage. It slipped and slithered and writhed its way between her breasts, looking for shelter. Claire screamed. She couldn’t help it. She screamed.
“Would you be quiet, Claire?” Finn hissed. “Someone will call the watch.”
Claire jumped up and down, hoping she could shake the bug from the top of her dress, but she could actually see its body moving beneath her clothing. “Get it, Finn,” she cried.
Finn reached a hand into her bodice. “Pardon me, I’m not trying to cup your breast,” he grunted as his fingers did just that. He lifted her left breast with one hand while the other grabbed for the bug. He growled and tugged at her gown, pulling it lower so he could get his hand farther inside.
“Finn, please,” she urged. The bug was going lower and lower, and it would be in her drawers if it traveled much farther.
“I got it,” he finally said. He held it up in one hand and gloated, while his other hand was still stuffed inside her bodice, cupping her breast. “See, Claire, I got it. Nothing to worry about.”
A gasp rang out behind them on the garden path. Finn closed his eyes tightly and turned her so that her body was shielded by his. “Tell me that’s not your father,” he moaned.
Claire looked over his shoulder. “It’s my father,” she whispered. “And the duke. And Marcus.” She thumped the bug from his outstretched fingers. The creature could go burn in hell for all she cared, their unspoken treaty be damned.
“What’s going on out here?” Claire’s father asked. “Claire, are you all right?”
“Lord Phineas was just helping me retrieve a bug that was bound to do me harm.”
***
If Claire could have seen what she looked like in that moment, she would have been mortified. She looked like she’d been well and truly tumbled. Her hair was a riot of curls, and her pins lay scattered on the path around them. Her cheeks were rosy as a newborn baby.
And his hand was still cupping her breast. “Bloody hell,” he grunted. “This isn’t what it looks like, my lord,” Finn called over his shoulder. “She had a bug down her dress, and I helped to fish it out.”
“I’ll have a word with you in my study, Lord Phineas,” Claire’s father said.
Finn looked down at his hand, which still held Claire’s breast. He let it go and jerked her bodice back up. Her mother and sister came forward and shooed her down the opposite end of the garden path.
Finn fell into step behind Lord Ramsdale. He should be damn happy no one had punched him yet. But there was still time. Finn ran back to Claire and kissed her forehead quickly. “I’ll take care of everything,” he assured her. He would. But would she be happy with the way he did it?
***
Robin accompanied them to Lord Ramsdale’s study, and for that Finn was grateful. Both Marcus and his lordship looked like they were just waiting to get him to a quiet place so they could beat him to a bloody pulp.
When the door was finally shut, Lord Ramsdale glared at him.
Finn steeled his jaw. “Did you want to hit me, Lord Ramsdale?” he asked. “I deserve it.”
But Ramsdale just dropped down behind his desk and scrubbed his face with his hands. “What is it with you Trimbles? I just got my daughters back, and now you w
ant to take them from me.”
“I want to marry her,” Finn blurted out.
“Of course, you do,” Lord Ramsdale affirmed with a nod. “But you know that she won’t do it.” He heaved a sigh. “So, now I have a deflowered daughter in the eyes of the ton.”
She’d been deflowered all right, but it was months ago.
“Truly, I was just getting the bug.”
“Do you want the readings of the banns or a special license?” Ramsdale asked with a heavy sigh. The man looked defeated.
“Do you think she’ll marry me?”
Ramsdale snorted. “I don’t think she’ll have a choice. Banns or special license?”
“Banns,” Finn said quickly. His heart was beating so quickly in his chest that he feared it might jump from between his ribs and land in the middle of the rug.
“Banns, it is.” Ramsdale pointed a finger at Finn. “You’ll stay away from my daughter for the three weeks prior to the wedding.”
“But—” Finn started.
But Ramsdale talked over him. “Three weeks. That’s all I ask. Let me have her for three weeks and then you can have her for a lifetime.” The man’s voice was guttural with emotion, and Finn’s heart hurt for him.
“Yes, Lord Ramsdale,” he said. “Three weeks.”
“You already love her, don’t you?” Ramsdale asked.
Finn tripped over his own tongue. His answer came out more as a croak. So, he cleared his throat. “With all my heart,” he finally admitted.
“Good. They can be stubborn, the fae. Stick with it. It’ll be worth it in the end.”
Stick with it. Finn would stick with it. He would stick with her. But would she hate him for putting her in this mess? It was too late to worry about that now, wasn’t it?
Twenty-One
Claire ambled through the garden at Ramsdale House, where she’d been sent following the ball debacle, and picked a flower from the side of the path. She tucked it behind her ear and kept walking.
“Your mother used to do the same thing, you know?” a voice called. Claire looked up to find her father strolling toward her. “You look a lot like her, but I think you got more of the blond from me, rather than the strawberry from her.”