What a strange world we’ve built, Finn thought. Elliot is an artist and I’m a soldier. He can’t pursue his art because his family needs him. I can’t fight, because everyone thinks I’m too bloodthirsty, calling me a murderer based on a lie.
The unfairness of it ate away at him. Finn hated the way people looked at him, the way voices dropped when he approached. He hated that he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. And then a woman like Miss Fielding thought she’d have a little fun by dallying with a dangerous man, just so she could tell her friends she did it. Damn all society.
The song ended, and Finn realized Elliot was looking at him. “Oh. Don’t mind me,” Finn said. “I just heard you playing and stopped to listen in for a bit. Am I bothering you?”
Elliot shook his head. “Why play if no one hears? I hope she likes it.”
“Miss Fitzgerald, you mean?” Hortense was a little flighty, but she seemed genuinely good-hearted.
“Indeed,” Elliot confirmed. “She is a really lovely girl, isn’t she? Sort of like a friend you forgot you knew.” There was an odd, distant look in his eye.
“A friend?” Finn echoed.
“Of course! She was so kind. Both her and that Miss Swift. Many ladies aren’t kind at all.” Elliot frowned. He often missed the subtleties of the insults sent his way, but he knew when people were making fun of him. Finn had been listening a lot more closely to their earlier conversation than he’d let on. Miss Swift hadn’t lobbed even the softest volley against Elliot, despite ample opportunities to do so. He marveled at her restraint.
Then he thought of Elliot’s phrase. Like a friend you forgot you knew. Elliot was talking about Hortense Fitzgerald, but to Finn, the sentiment seemed tailored to fit Camellia Swift.
“I think she is a fine sort of woman,” Elliot concluded. “And pretty. You know I’m not so good at talking to ladies.” He gnawed at his lower lip thoughtfully. “I wonder what sort of present Miss Fitzgerald would like for Christmas.”
“Well, let us see what the next few days bring,” Finn cautioned. “Don’t pin your hopes too quickly. I’ll see what I can discover about her situation. Your father would expect as much.” Finn had a nasty feeling that he was about to get in way over his head. Agreeing to shepherd Elliot through the Season might be deadly…for Finn.
Chapter 6
That evening at dinner, Camellia was nonplussed to find she was seated next to Mr Ryder. In acknowledgment of the social hierarchy, Elliot was seated much closer to the middle of the table, by the host, which made sense. He was to be cultivated, if only for his title. But then she remembered Mrs Bloomfield’s advice to pry details of Elliot’s preferences from his friend. The evening would not be lost.
“Good evening, Miss Swift,” Ryder greeted her. He held her chair out, and Camellia seated herself. She again tried to shake off the idea that his presence was familiar.
“Good evening,” she said after he sat down beside her. “I trust you have acquainted yourself with the castle by now.”
He took a little while to answer. “Reacquainted, actually. I’ve been here before.”
“Oh, indeed?” Camellia asked. She looked over at him, and suddenly realized that his eyes were actually a very deep blue. Afraid of being caught staring, she looked back at her plate. “You were here before? When was that?”
“When I was much younger. About ten years old, if I recall correctly. My family actually has a few connections to the Fitzgeralds, though distant and over the generations.”
She offered, “I always find I need a day or two to settle in here.”
It was easy to settle into the dinner table, considering the parade of delicacies placed in front of the guests. From tenderly braised lamb to roast beef to hothouse greens, there was a dish to tempt anyone. Lia dropped a spoonful of mint jelly on her plate, her mouth already watering in anticipation of the first bite of lamb.
“So you’ve been here more than once? Did you ever find the secret room?” he asked after a moment. “I heard there was one.”
“Never, though Hortense and I used to look when we were younger.”
“I looked for it again this afternoon,” he confessed, in a more conspiratorial tone. “I assume it must be in the tower, but the door was locked.”
“Which tower do you mean? There are many towers.”
“No,” he said firmly. “There is only one that matters. It’s the one you can’t look away from as you approach the castle.”
“It does have a certain aura,” Camellia agreed, knowing exactly which one he meant. She snuck another glance at him. Phineas Ryder also has a certain aura, she thought, and then wished she hadn’t thought it. He was not the sort of man she should consider for a husband. And she had already decided on Elliot.
“How long have you known Mr Townsend?” she asked, continuing her thoughts out loud.
Finn said shortly, “Since we were boys.” He paused, then added in a lower voice, “I want to thank you, by the way.”
“Thank me? For what?” She looked over again, and was caught by the earnestness of his expression.
“For listening to Elliot earlier today. And for not…” He trailed off, shrugging slightly.
