Chapter 29
Twenty-Nine
“You can let go of me,” Finn said.
“Not a chance.”
Owen kept her securely in his arms as he surveyed the wreckage of Pell House.
Someone—the cutthroats, most likely—had ransacked the place.
In the parlor, they’d slashed the sofa, exposing its guts.
They’d broken chairs and mirrors, overturned tables.
Perhaps most disturbingly, they’d mutilated Henry Pell’s stuffed animals and littered the house with the parts.
Seeing the ravaged beasts scattered on the ground awakened the memories of battlefields.
Gut churning, Owen shut out the ghosts. His priority was to take care of Finn and her family.
Standing next to him, Keane said, “Sick bastards.”
“I wonder what they were after?”
This came from Duffield, who held Tansy’s hand. The girl had clung to him on the walk back to the house. Nell and Simon had returned as well, their faces pale and grim.
“Destruction,” Owen said flatly. “If their intent was burglary, then they would have taken things of value like that candelabra.”
Instead, they’d used its prongs to claw gouges into the wallpaper and left it mangled on the floor.
Duffield’s brow creased. “Do you think this was a random act?”
“I don’t know. Unless…”
Owen looked at Finn and felt a flicker of unease when she averted her gaze.
“Do you know these men?” he asked.
“I’ve never met them before tonight. Now put me down.”
She pushed at his shoulders with enough force to reassure him that she’d recovered fully from her swoon. He set her on her feet with care. When he tried to steady her, she swatted his hands away.
“I’m perfectly fine,” she said.
Owen didn’t think she was. He saw the lines bracketing her mouth and the worry darkening her eyes. She pulled her shoulders back as she surveyed the wreckage.
“Those ruffians probably drank too much and entertained themselves by creating havoc,” she said in a brittle voice. “Fairs can draw unsavory types. Now that they have gone, they are unlikely to return.”
“Even so, all of you will stay at Bottoms House tonight,” he said.
“There’s no need—”
“Hell’s teeth, the house is a shambles.” Owen braced his hands on his hips. “Even if it were safe to stay here, the place will need to be cleaned from top to bottom. Which we are not doing at this time of night. Right now, what everyone needs is rest.”
He looked pointedly at Tansy, who’d drifted off in Duffield’s arms. Finn looked at the girl too, and he saw her flinch of guilt. He went over and spoke the words she needed to hear.
“There’s nothing you could have done to prevent this,” he said.
Finn’s eyes filled. “Tansy could have been hurt. If you hadn’t been there—”
“She is safe, and you protected her too. As did Keane and Duffield. As will my family—once we get everyone safely to Bottoms House.”
She drew a shaky breath—and nodded.
Before Owen could savor the small victory, Caleb stumbled into the parlor. His flushed face and glazed eyes betrayed that he’d been in his cups. His jaw slackened as he took in the ruins of the room.
“What in blazes happened here?” he slurred.
“Tansy was abducted by strangers,” Finn said crisply. “Luckily, Lord Owen and Misters Keane and Duffield were able to foil the brutes, who left with their tails between their legs. The damage you see before you was likely a part of their random, destructive spree.”
Caleb cursed. “You know bloody well that this was—”
“A horrid, random incident,” Nell cut in hastily. “Poor Tansy is quite distraught.”
Tansy chose that moment to wake and let out a wail.
Caleb quieted at the girl’s noisy weeping.
“There, there, princess.” Duffield offered another handkerchief from his apparently inexhaustible supply. “You’re safe now. No one can hurt you.”
Tansy bawled louder.
“You’ve upset Tansy,” Finn said to Caleb. “A word in private, if you please.”
She swept out of the room. Caleb glowered at her retreating back but stumbled after her.
A few minutes later, Finn returned alone.
“Caleb has made up his mind to stay,” she said. “But the rest of us will go to Bottoms House.”
Later that night, Owen lay in his cot at the cottage, his hands pillowing his head.
He was watching the shadows on the ceiling, unable to fall asleep.
Even knowing that Finn and the children were safely tucked away in the manor did not ease his restlessness.
The tussle with the cutthroats had stirred his demons.
When sleep claimed him, he knew he would dream of the past—which was probably why he was resisting it.
He’d returned to the cottage so that no one would hear him in the throes of a nightmare.
Seeing Finn throw herself headlong into danger had smashed his equilibrium.
While he admired her courage and loyalty, her lack of care for her own safety terrified him.
He didn’t know what he would do if he lost her… wasn’t sure he could bear it.
Doubts gnawed as he contemplated how happy they’d been at the fair.
Being together had felt so blissfully normal.
He had felt normal—like any gentleman courting the woman who held his heart.
Yet within moments, delight had morphed into disaster, and the feeling of being powerless in the face of chaos felt all too familiar.
Am I a harbinger of disaster? Am I cursed to bring pain and destruction to those around me? Why does devastation follow wherever I go?
He stared at the shadows creeping over the beams and wondered if his love would prove to be a burden rather than the gift he’d intended it to be.
Was being with him in Finn’s best interest?
Would she be better off with a man without his past?
A fellow who wasn’t damaged, who could offer her love that was untainted and safe—
The knock made him start. His heart thudded as he dragged on a nightshirt and went to open the door. Sure enough, it was Finn, clad in a voluminous flannel wrapper. Her hair streamed over her shoulders, and her eyes were luminous in the light of the lamp she carried.
“I hope you weren’t asleep—”
Before she finished her sentence, he pulled her inside. He set down her lamp and took her into his arms. He kissed her, and as her taste and warmth washed through him, he realized how badly he’d needed this. This reassurance that his love was safe and whole.
He buried his face in her hair, breathing her in.
“I guess you don’t mind my late-night visit.”
He lifted his head, looking into her smiling eyes.
“I always want to be with you,” he said. “I am glad you are here.”
“I was missing you.” She fiddled with his collar. “Why didn’t you stay in the manor?”
He hesitated. “I wasn’t certain I was fit for company.”
She studied him. “Why not?”
“On the occasions when I dream, I can be…loud.” Having given that much, he shrugged and gave her the rest. “I didn’t wish to disturb anyone if I dreamt tonight. Especially Tansy, who’s been through too much.”
“Tansy is fine,” Finn said softly. “Nell is with her, and it was kind of the Misters Duffield and Keane to escort us here.”
“They are fine chaps.”
“I owe them a great deal.” Finn touched his jaw. “And I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me anything.” He caught her hand, pressing his lips against her palm.
“I don’t deserve you,” she said, her voice hitching. “You risked your life for me and for Tansy—”
“I know how much your family means to you. Since I would do anything for you, it follows I’d do the same for them.”
“Truly?” she asked tremulously.
“Truly, love.”
He kissed her again, and her lips clung so sweetly that he wanted to kiss her forever.
She was the one to pull away. But her slow tease of a smile set fire to his loins and brought his cock to stiff attention against his nightshirt.
“You would do anything for me?” she asked coyly.
“If it is within my power to accomplish the task, consider it done.”
“I think you can manage my request.”
She removed her wrapper, letting it pool at her feet.
The firelight rendered the simple shift she wore translucent.
His heart stuttered at her alluring silhouette: the fullness of her breasts, the gentle dip of her waist, and the sleek line of her legs.
Her eyes glowed with desire…yet he saw lingering shadows as well.
Despite her brave front, tonight’s events had shaken her.
Of course they had. While she held herself together with admirable strength, he wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to conceal her vulnerabilities from him.
As much as he adored her take-charge attitude, he also wanted her to feel safe enough to relinquish control. To unburden herself with him.
Their trust was a gift. He would use it this eve to give her respite—and to pleasure them both.
When she pulled the shift over her head, tossing it aside with a flirty grin, words left him. He was consumed by a fever of lust and love. She dropped her gaze to his rampant arousal and wetted her lips; his stones swelled, and a wet spot appeared in the linen.
“What I want is you, Owen,” she said. “Take me to your bed and make love to me.”