Page 11 of Four Promises to Love

His apology snapped her attention in place. A gent in the true sense, as she suspected. She would leverage his propriety to her advantage.

“None taken.” She inclined her head graciously. “Doubt is a common barrier to enlightenment.”

“I wasn’t aware enlightenment was amongst the services you offered.”

His sardonic expression conveyed that he wasn’t convinced by her act. Regardless of whether he recognized her, he did not trust her.

He has more brains than I gave him credit for.

“I offer clarity to the curious,” she said. “For those whose hearts are open, such knowledge may bring resolution and peace. I do not, however, possess the ability or inclination to prove my talents to those of an inflexible temperament.”

He narrowed his eyes. Before he could reply, his sister nudged him in the ribs. The casual gesture spoke of familial ease and affection. Finn recognized it not from her family by birth—as an orphan, she had no memory of her parents—but from her family by choice. She and her gang, the self-dubbed “Hawks,” enjoyed ruffling one another’s feathers. They would also, without hesitation, lay down their lives for one another.

“You will find us an open-minded bunch, Madame Seraphina,” Lady Gigi said brightly. “However, the males in the family tend to be overprotective.”

The duchess’s charm was irresistible. Lord Owen glowered at his sister, and she responded by looking at Finn with lifted brows, as if to say, See what I mean?

Finn had to firm her lips to stop herself from laughing.

“We were hoping to arrange a consultation,” Xenia Harrington said. “Might I persuade you to pay a visit to my home, Bottoms House?”

Triumph rushed through Finn. The fact that these pigeons were inviting her into their roost meant she’d done her job and done it well. Before she could make a show of graciously granting their request, Lord Owen spoke.

“Over my dead body,” he said succinctly.

The ladies gasped.

Finn curled her fingers. That can be arranged.

“Owen, why are you—” Xenia Harrington began.

“We do not involve strangers in family affairs.” His tone was firm. “Your husbands will back me on this.”

The women traded uneasy looks, obviously trying to decide if they should consult their spouses. They did not seem like meek, biddable women. Yet some men, Finn thought grimly, had a way of manipulating and bending even the fiercest woman to their will. She thought of Iris, the strongest woman she knew. Iris was the Hawks’ leader and filled the roles of mother, sister, and best friend to Finn. Finn’s heart clenched at the memory of their last meeting. Once a vibrant beauty, Iris had looked at her with blank eyes ringed by dark circles. Her lustrous, copper-colored tresses had been reduced to greasy strands that hung limply around her gaunt face.

“Please do whatever Carver says. I won’t survive without him. And he…he’ll hurt me if you don’t get him what he wants.”

“I think Manderly would agree that this avenue is worth exploring.”

Evie Harrington’s words returned Finn’s focus. She judged the blonde countess to be an intellectual sort—rather like Nell. Finn would appeal to her sense of logic.

“Ethan would as well,” Xenia Harrington said.

The redhead had a warmth of character—empathy that could be exploited.

“Grantley might disagree,” Lady Gigi said.

She lifted her shoulders as if disagreement with her duke was neither unusual nor an impediment to proceeding as she wished.

If Lady Gigi wasn’t a pigeon—and a duchess—I could be friends with her.

“His Grace lets you get away with anything,” the countess teased. “That’s settled, then.”

“Nothing is settled.” Lord Owen aimed a smoldering look at the women. “In this family, I may not have the same authority as my brothers. While I cannot blame you for doubting my judgment—God knows you have reason to—I must insist that you heed me now. No good will come of allowing this medium to meddle in our affairs.”

He said “medium” as if it were an epithet.

I’ve been called worse, Finn thought philosophically.