Chapter 20
Twenty
“Are you certain you are up to a séance?” Owen asked quietly.
“Yes.” Seated in the chair beside him, Finn replied, “This is what I do.”
Her smile looked forced. She seemed tense in general and far from the carefree lover she’d been mere hours ago.
The memory of her warmth and laughter—not to mention her wanton mouth—heated his blood.
He wanted more of that Finn. He wanted to explore the feelings between them, which should have terrified him but didn’t.
Finn unraveled him with her beauty and anchored him with her strength. When they were together, he felt free in his own skin. He wanted to play with her. To trade confidences with her. To debauch her until neither of them had the strength to move.
Yet he understood she had a job to do. Yesterday’s episode had erased his doubts about her talent, and even his brothers seemed less skeptical.
At present, his family sat in the circle of chairs arranged at Finn’s request. The curtains of the library had been drawn to block out the light.
Despite Finn’s lovely green dress, she was once again the somber and enigmatic medium.
“Yesterday, I experienced a parting of the veil here in this chamber,” she said. “The energy of the spiritual realm crackles even now. I can feel it—stirring my nape, causing my skin to tingle.”
Owen saw his brothers shift in their chairs. Grantley rubbed the back of his neck.
“The spirit of Rose is near,” Finn said. “She desires to communicate something to us. Something important that I will try to discover during today’s session.”
“Does she want to tell us how to end the curse?” Gigi breathed.
Looking far less enthused, Grantley put an arm around her.
Similarly, Ethan and James stayed close to their own wives.
Owen didn’t blame them; he felt the same urge to shield Finn—more so, since her gift placed her squarely in danger’s path.
His gut clenching, he recalled when another had looked at him through Finn’s eyes.
For those agonizing moments, she had been lost to him, and he’d been powerless to bring her back.
At the same time, he knew Finn would bridle at his interference.
She would also lecture him on discretion; he wondered how much longer she would insist upon keeping their relationship a secret.
Now that he was certain his attraction ran deeper than lust, he wanted to court her in the open.
Moreover, he didn’t think they were fooling anyone.
His family knew. Judging from Caleb’s daggered looks, Owen guessed her assistants suspected as well.
“I believe Rose has secrets to share,” Finn said. “Secrets she wants us to uncover.”
“We will do anything we can to help,” Gigi declared.
Grantley cleared his throat. “Perhaps not anything, duchess.”
“For nearly a century, Rose and Thomas’s love story has been tarnished by lies. We must help free their souls so that they can find their happy ending. Don’t you want them to be as blissful as we are?”
Just like that, Gigi reduced the cocky duke to putty in her hands.
He tenderly kissed her knuckles. “Of course I do, my love.”
Trading glances with his brothers, Owen knew they were all storing up ammunition for future battles with Grantley.
“On that note,” Xenia said. “I wanted to show you this, Finn.”
She held up a beechwood hairbrush.
“This brush belonged to Rose,” Xenia explained. “I thought it might serve a similar purpose to Gerald Elmwood’s handkerchief. Soon after I found it, I started experiencing Rose’s memories.”
“What was the nature of those memories, my lady?” Caleb spoke up.
When everyone looked at him, he added, “The details might help Madame Seraphina in her quest to connect beyond the veil.”
“In that case, I shall describe what I can remember.” Xenia drew a breath. “In some of the dreams, Rose was running from her abuser. She was scared and desperate and had nowhere to go.”
“You needn’t speak of this distressing business, pet,” Ethan cut in. “In your condition—”
“I’m fine.” She smiled at him. “I am safe because of you—just as Rose found safety with Thomas. I had dreams of her finding shelter here in the manor, then falling in love with its master. But then…then the enemy came. Hers and mine. And in my time of need, Rose took me to that secret room behind the fireplace. The same way she led you, Finn.”
“You don’t recall other details?” Caleb asked. “Such as the spirit hiding something?”
“The only thing I saw her hiding was herself.” Xenia frowned. “Why does that matter?”
“What my assistant means to say”—Finn shot Caleb a quelling look—“is that spirits become restless when they wish to retrieve something from their past life. Something valuable, for instance, to which they remain attached.”
“I know what it could be!” Gigi exclaimed.
Finn and Caleb swung their heads in her direction.
“What?” they asked as one—then glared at each other.
“In my visions, I also saw Rose being pursued by her enemy,” Gigi said. “She stopped to hide her most precious possession: the marriage license that proved she and Thomas married before he died.”
“A piece of paper.” Caleb looked as if he’d bit into a lemon. “That is all you found, Your Grace?”
“Yes,” Gigi said. “Owen and I found it together, hidden in a tree by the stream.”
“There was nothing else in the hollow,” Owen added. “I looked.”
“This is indeed interesting,” Finn said. “And bears further exploration.”
“In the meantime, would you like this hairbrush?” Xenia held it out. “Perhaps it will aid your efforts to contact Rose today?”
“Indeed.” Finn’s smile was enigmatic. “Nell, please bring the brush to me.”
As Nell fetched the brush, Owen flashed to Finn, curled up and weeping, those glowing stranger’s eyes peering back at him.
His lungs burned as Nell placed the item on Finn’s lap.
Finn went stiff as a board, her eyelashes fanning rapidly.
He tensed and was about to snatch the object and toss it into the fire when Finn opened her eyes.
Those wide, unblinking orbs shone, and her voice rang with otherworldly authority.
“Join hands,” she said. “We must form a circle to summon Rose.”
As Finn felt Owen’s protective grip on her hand, self-revulsion churned her belly. Yet she had made her choice; for Iris’s sake, she had to move forward with her deception. It was unfortunate that the Harringtons hadn’t shared any useful information, but that would have been too easy.
She’d feigned her reaction to the hairbrush, unsurprised that it hadn’t triggered a vision. Her previous encounters with Rose hadn’t been precipitated by contact with a physical object. They had come seemingly out of nowhere, and right now, Finn didn’t feel the onset of anything other than guilt.
She could live with being a liar—to anyone but Owen.
Although she kept her gaze fixed and unblinking as if she were seeing something no one else could, she was aware he was watching her.
His tension flowed through their joined hands, as if he were ready to battle ghosts for her.
He’d already suffered because of a pointless war; now she was using his honorable nature against him—again.
It killed her.
Get on with it, Finn. Put on the mask of Rose. Play your part.
She’d come up with a sound stratagem—at least it was better than Caleb’s unsubtle probing.
In the guise of Rose, she would pretend she had lost something dear and ask the Harringtons to help her.
They would probably turn the estate inside out in their quest to bring her peace.
In doing so, they might uncover the jewels’ hiding place—and the Hawks could pounce.
Finn opened her mouth to force out the lie. Yet her throat went dry, her tongue like cotton in her mouth. She couldn’t make herself do it.
“Finn?” Owen’s voice was harsh with worry.
She concentrated on not blinking—on giving the appearance of being caught in a trance. But she found herself fighting a sudden urge to cry. Liquid heat pushed behind her eyes; she resolutely pushed it back.
“Madame Seraphina has opened herself up to the realm of spirits.” Caleb came to her aid. “She cannot hear you. You must remain calm, my lord, and let her work.”
“Do not tell me to be calm,” Owen growled. “Why hasn’t she spoken? This isn’t right. What if Rose takes over again—”
“The seer knows what she is doing. She will speak soon.”
Finn understood Caleb’s unspoken message to hurry up before the scheme fell to pieces.
I’m sorry, Owen. Her heart twisted in agony. You deserve better than me.
She parted her lips—
And another’s voice left her.
“I want to see the roses.”
Desire swept through her, a longing she’d suppressed for so long. Suddenly, there was nothing more important—nothing more urgent than seeing her lover’s gift again. The proof of their undying love.
She surged to her feet—and found herself anchored.
He gripped her hand. “Where are you going?”
“To our rose garden.” Looking into his eyes, she whispered, “Take me there, my love.”
Owen’s heart pounded as he led the entourage into the garden.
He and Finn were in the front, and her hand was secure in his…
although he wasn’t sure it was her hand he held.
At least she didn’t seem frightened like the last time.
There was a lightness to her step, and she was whistling…
some jaunty folk song he didn’t recognize.
He twisted his head around, catching the gaze of Finn’s nearest assistant.
“Does she usually whistle?” he asked in a low voice.
Eyes huge, Simon shook his head.
“Do hurry, darling.” Finn tugged on his hand. “I cannot wait to see them.”
Owen led the way through the gap in the hedge into the rose garden.
The blooms were lush and colorful, the air rich with their heady perfume, but Finn outshone them all.
He was captivated by her dreamy smile, the way she turned her face up to the sky, her hands clasped to her chest. She whirled around, and pins scattered, her hair tumbling wild and free.
She turned to him. “Where are they?”