Page 127 of Four Promises to Love

Finn felt a twinge of apprehension. If she was wrong⁠—

“I think I hit something,” Owen said.

He tapped his shovel a few feet beneath the sunken monument, and Finn heard it too: the clanging of metal on metal. He dug out what appeared to be a metal box.

He climbed out of the hole, saying with a smile, “The honor belongs to you.”

Everyone gathered with their lanterns. Owen held the box as Finn opened the lid with hands that shook. Her breath held as she saw the velvet bags nestled in flannel and oilcloth. Carefully, she opened the bag on top and removed the contents. She stared, awestruck, at the dazzling pair of emerald-and-diamond earbobs in her palm.

“Heavens,” Gigi breathed. “Those earbobs must be worth a fortune!”

“There’s more where that came from,” Finn said.

She emptied the pouches, revealing a necklace, brooch, bracelet, and diadem. The parure had to be worth a king’s ransom—or in this case, her gang’s. But what she found at the bottom of the box was equally priceless. Reverently, she lifted out the oilskin packet. The group exhaled as one when she pulled out a leather-bound journal.

She flipped open the worn cover and read the faded but clear words aloud:

I, Felix Pearce, attest that every word written in this journal is mine and the truth as I witnessed it, so help me God. When these facts come to light, I pray that Rosalinda and Thomas Mulligan will be granted the peace and justice they rightly deserve—and that Langdon Pearce, my brother and the true villain of this tale, will be judged for his nefarious actions.

With these words, I will break the bonds of silence and cowardice that have trapped me. May the truth set me free to fly toward my heavenly Father.

“We have proof,” Xenia said tearfully. “Of Rose’s innocence and Langdon’s villainy.”

“And we have the jewels,” Owen said. “To barter for the Hawks’ freedom.”

He opened his arms, and her eyes burning with relief, Finn walked into them.

Thirty-Seven

They brought Felix’s journal and the jewels back to Bottoms House. To Owen’s amusement, after Finn ascertained that Tansy was asleep in one of the guest bedchambers, she flew into action. The fact that it was the middle of the night didn’t prevent her from pacing in front of the drawing room fire, plotting the best way to stage the exchange with Carver.

“We Hawks know too much,” she told the group. “To Carver, we are liabilities. After he has the jewels, we’re more useful to him dead than alive.”

“Then how will we guarantee your gang’s safety?” Owen asked.

“I will use my advantage.”

He cocked a brow. “Which is?”

“Carver thinks I am alone, save for Tansy. He has Iris—and by now, likely Caleb, Nell, and Simon. Caleb would have told him that you and your family discovered my ruse and threw me out. Carver’s men will corroborate his story.”

“So you keep up the pretense,” Mama said, nodding. “Pretend you are friendless and alone.”

“Precisely. Carver will believe it because he knows us Hawks. As a rule, we do not trust easily. He couldn’t conceive of the notion that I might ask a bunch of bluebloods for help—um, no offense.”

“None taken,” Grantley said dryly.

“The lot of you will be my hidden hand.” Finn continued to pace with an energy that Owen could only marvel at. “Because Carver will think he has me cornered, he will let his guard down. He will agree to the location I set. He’ll bring men, of course, but not an army because how many brutes does he need to defeat poor, defenseless me?”

“A battalion, apparently.” Papa sounded amused. “I admire your strategy, Finn.”

She paused mid-stride, and her look of surprised gratitude hit Owen in the chest. It never ceased to amaze him how she could be so formidable yet vulnerable too. He knew she yearned for his family’s acceptance—and his parents’, in particular, after getting off on the wrong foot. He wanted to tell her she needn’t worry. Once Papa and Mama got to know her, they would love her cleverness and plucky spirit, the bone-deep loyalty that was part of her nature. Although she might not realize it, she fit right in.

She’s meant to be a part of my family. And I will make it happen—once we save hers.

The next topic was the best place to lay the trap. Several sites were considered and rejected.

“What about the Pearce manor?” Grantley suggested. “Its distance from the village will reassure Carver of privacy. The place has plenty of room for us to conceal ourselves, inside and out. Best of all, you needn’t worry about gaining the owner’s permission.”