Page 17 of Four Promises to Love

Owen’s playfulness vanished, replaced by chilly premonition.

She couldn’t know about the dreams that Xenia, Gigi, and Evie had…could she?

“What sort of dreams?” he asked warily.

“I am not entirely certain how to describe them.”

Her eyes were wide, seeming to glow with mystical light. They were the sort of eyes, he thought as his pulse quickened, that could see through a man…and straight into his soul.

“They are akin to memories,” she said slowly. “I believe that I have been reliving the experiences of a woman named Rosalinda.”

I have him. He’s taken the bait.

Heady with success, Finn fought not to let her triumph show. Owen’s look of astonishment was priceless—and she had Nell to thank for it. Prior to their arrival in Chuddums, Nell had spent time at the Leaning House, the village tea shop and hub of gossip. She’d gone in various disguises and eavesdropped on conversations, including those of the Harrington ladies.

It was amazing what women shared over tea (and when they didn’t realize they were being surveilled). Nell had learned about Thomas Mulligan and his lover Rosalinda. Most importantly, she’d overheard the ladies saying that they believed they were having visions from Rose’s past. They’d discussed how these “memories” might help them break the curse.

Nell had picked up other tidbits, too. As a result, Finn knew far too much about the sensual prowess of the Harrington brothers. Suffice it to say, the ability to satisfy a bedpartner apparently ran in the blood. Yet she couldn’t let herself get distracted by Owen’s hot-blooded heritage. Right now, she had to focus on convincing him that she was a medium who offered exactly what his family needed.

He cleared his throat. “Rosalinda, you say?”

“Yes.”

She furrowed her brow, as if she was concentrating very hard. Which she was. It was taking all her restraint not to laugh at how uneasy he looked.

“But she has another name as well,” she went on. “In the visions when she is with her lover, he often calls her Rose.”

“Confound it,” he said under his breath. “Go on. What else have you, er, seen?”

“The visions are difficult to fully grasp. When one is given a glimpse of the world beyond the veil, one is left with impressions only. I remember her name and that she had a lover—a man named Thomas. She is searching for him, yearning for him. I think that night when I saw you, I felt his presence, and it was somehow…somehow connected to yours.”

I have you now, Owen Harrington.

He was pale enough to pass for one of the ghosts she could supposedly channel.

“I was drawn to you the way Rose was drawn to her Thomas,” Finn said in a lulling, hypnotic cadence. “Her spirit guided me to you that night.”

He drew his brows together. “What did she want from me?”

“That is not knowledge I possess. I wanted to ask you about Thomas, but then things became…overpowering.” This time, her blush was appropriate. “Realizing that I had put myself in a compromising situation, I knew the only solution was to flee. But the spirits had more planned. For I felt myself compelled to come to Chuddums…and here we meet again. It feels like the hand of destiny, does it not?”

“It feels like someone’s hand at work,” he said.

Blooming hell. Just when I thought I had him.

She feigned innocence. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“What you shared may not be common knowledge,” he allowed. “However, the doomed affair between Rose and Thomas has been fodder for village gossip for months.”

“I am newly arrived. What would I know of village gossip?”

“I think you know a lot, Seraphina.” He looked her in the eye. “You are the sort of woman a man underestimates at his own peril.”

She liked that more than she should have.

Time to switch tactics.

“You are cynical, my lord.” She gazed up at him through her eyelashes. “Even if you question my explanation, do you doubt your own feelings?”