Chapter 35
Thirty-Five
“His lordship will see you in the drawing room.”
Finn had expected Brunswick’s icy disapproval and was relieved that he was admitting her.
She hadn’t been sure that Owen would see her; if her attempt failed, she’d planned to break into the gamekeeper’s cottage.
Given her new policy of avoiding criminal behavior as much as possible, this was the better outcome.
Tansy had come too; there had been nowhere else to leave her.
Brunswick, to his credit, had already steered her toward the kitchen with the promise of something to eat.
Now the butler ushered Finn into the drawing room, and her heart shot into her throat.
It wasn’t just Owen who was waiting for her but his entire family.
With roiling shame, she met the hard stares of the men, who hovered protectively by their ladies.
The women had softer expressions, but that only deepened her shame.
When she saw Xenia tucked under a blanket on a chaise longue, guilt clawed at her.
But the worst and best of it was seeing Owen again.
Standing by the hearth, he was unbearably handsome.
He also looked exhausted. The dark hollows beneath his eyes amplified the brewing storm in his grey gaze.
His face was tense with anger, his posture rigid.
He did not acknowledge her arrival with any courtesy, nor did he offer her a seat. She felt like a criminal in the dock.
Which was as she deserved.
Nerves thrumming, she said, “Th-thank you all for seeing me.”
“Why have you come?” Owen said curtly. “I believe I made my wishes clear that our previous meeting was to be our last. When I said I would summon the magistrate, it was no idle threat.”
Stay calm, Finn. Say what you came to say.
She twisted her fingers together. “I know there is no way to right the wrongs I have committed against you—against all of you. No apology can express how truly sorry I am. But I wanted to explain my actions.” She drew a breath and forced herself to be entirely forthright. “And to ask for your help.”
“I knew she wanted something,” Grantley muttered from the settee.
Gigi shushed him. “Let her speak, darling.”
“You have some nerve.” Owen strode toward Finn, his eyes blazing. “You deceive us, and now you have the gall to ask our assistance?”
It took all of Finn’s courage not to retreat. She hated asking for help and wasn’t good at it. Now to ask it of the man she’d wronged, and whom she so desperately loved, made her quake. But she stood her ground.
“I know it is a lot to ask. I lied to you. I cannot communicate with spirits—at least, I couldn’t until—”
“You are a fraud, that’s what you are,” Owen snapped. “You’re just a greedy swindler after the jewels. As part of your scheme, you used me and my family.”
“That’s not entirely true,” she said. “That is, I was trying to find the jewels, but not because of greed.”
“Let me guess: you intended to give it to charity—ouch.” The duke grumbled, rubbing his side. “Watch that elbow of yours, duchess, or I shall end up black and blue.”
“Why else, then?” Owen said coldly.
In the face of his hostility, Finn felt her resolve wavering.
He was a gentleman to the bone, and his behavior conveyed just how far she’d fallen in his esteem.
She hadn’t just lost his love, but his respect as well, and it made her feel smaller than an insect.
The insecurities of a lifetime swarmed her, leaving her with welts and stings.
You are nobody. Your own parents abandoned you. You’re worth as much as that rusted piece of tin around your neck. You couldn’t save Iris, and your gang left you. How could you expect this gentleman—who you deceived and manipulated—to listen to you? Why would he give a damn about you?
She was ready to cut her losses and walk away.
But a different voice spoke to her.
Understand your fear, Finn. Face it.
“Love,” she blurted.
Owen glowered at her. “I beg your pardon?”
“The reason I need the jewels is love.” She drew a breath. “I belong to a gang called the Hawks, which includes Nell and the others.”
“I knew they were no assistants,” Manderly muttered to Evie, who hushed him.
“Our leader is named Iris. We met in the orphanage, and she took me under her wing. If it weren’t for her, I would not have survived—”
“You’ve mentioned Iris.” Owen crossed his arms over his chest. “But you could be lying about her—the way you’ve lied about everything else.”
“Not everything.” Finn found the courage to correct him. “Iris is real, and her life is in danger. I told you she wasn’t well, and her illness…well, it has to do with a cutthroat named Alexander Carver.”
“Carver,” Xenia said sharply. “Those men last night said they were working for him.”
“Yes. Carver is a ruthless bastard, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get what he wants. A few months ago, he secured a letter from someone who ran with a gang called the Corrigans—”
“A Corrigan is involved,” Lord Ethan said darkly. “Why am I not surprised?”
“This is the letter.”
Finn took it from her satchel, offering it to Owen. She held her breath until he finally reached for it. After scanning the letter, he passed it around the room.
His expression remained stoic. “All this letter proves is that you knew F. P. was Felix Pearce all along. And you knew about the jewels.”
“Yes,” she admitted. “Carver had become obsessed with the treasure, but he couldn’t figure out the riddle. His lackeys fared no better. Then he met Iris, and he figured he could use us Hawks to attain his prize. In London, my gang had garnered a reputation for, um, our schemes and ingenuity—”
“You ran swindles,” Owen said flatly.
She nodded. “Carver realized we could help him and tried to persuade us to join his gang. We knew how dangerous and violent he was and wanted no part of it. He pretended to accept our decision, then began courting Iris. Unfortunately, he can be as charming and manipulative as he is merciless, and Iris succumbed to his wiles.”
“Poor Iris,” Evie murmured.
“That was just the start. It wasn’t enough for him to hold her heart captive—he wanted to control her body as well.
He began giving her opium and before long, Iris turned into a different person.
” Finn fought to control the tremor in her voice.
“She was no longer the sister I once knew and the Hawks’ fearless leader.
She submitted to Carver and told us to follow his orders.
I was afraid that he would hurt her if we didn’t, and stupidly, I figured out the first part of the clue for him: that the place that can sink no lower than its name referred to Bottoms House.
“Rather than helping Iris, I made matters worse for her. Carver took her prisoner, withholding the drug to torment her. He made us witness her suffering.” Finn shut out the image of Iris, wasted to skin and bones, her eyes sunken and lifeless as she lay in her own filth.
“He told us the only way we could get her back was to give him the treasure. So the Hawks and I surveilled Chuddums and learned about the curse of Bloody Thom. I created Madame Seraphina so that we could infiltrate the village and search for the treasure.”
“Your reputation for ingenuity is certainly well earned,” Lady Blackwood said.
To Finn’s surprise, the marchioness’s tone didn’t seem entirely condemning.
She forced herself to continue. “After my dishonesty, I know my word means nothing. But I give it to you anyway: what I am telling you now is the truth. I was after the treasure not out of avarice but love. For Iris, my sister and friend, the woman to whom I owe my life.”
Owen’s stare was piercing. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? I told you I loved you, Finn, and would do anything for you and your family.”
The punch of regret shortened her breath.
“I should have told you,” she said haltingly. “I wanted to. So many times, I came close…”
Seeing his gaze shutter, she knew he thought close was not enough. And he was right. He’d given her his love and deserved far better in return. He deserved the deepest truth, which she had never spoken aloud.
“I was afraid you would reject me,” she whispered.
“Bloody hell, Finn, do you think so little of me?” He glared at her.
“Not of you—of me,” she cried. “I am nobody, Owen. My parents didn’t want me, and before I met Iris, no one cared if I lived or died!
I wasn’t worth anything to anyone. So I learned to fend for myself and perhaps I learned too well.
Then I met you”—she gestured at him—“and you’re everything someone like me does not get to have. ”
“That’s absurd,” he shot back. “I told you I don’t care about our differences in station.”
“I’m not talking about your wealth and title.
” She’d worked herself into a fine lather and couldn’t stop.
“I’m referring to the fact that you’re good and decent and have a family who loves you.
And you aren’t some pampered toff—you survived the worst of circumstances to become the strong, kind, and honorable gentleman you are.
To top it off, you are ridiculously handsome—even your blooming hair is attractive!
Meanwhile, what am I? A bastard sharpster who runs swindles to survive. And I can’t even say I’m sorry for it.”
She glowered at him, her chest heaving. The room went so silent that a dropping pin would have deafened them all. But she lost track of everyone else when the mask of hostility slipped from Owen, and she saw a flash of his old warmth.
“You think my hair is attractive?”
She was too terrified to hope. “It’s the way it falls over your eyes.”
“Finn, you could have trusted me. You could have told me this—all of it—before.”