Page 23 of Four Promises to Love

“I shall be happy to explain.” Evie peered at the offering Mrs. Pettigrew set on the table with a flourish. “But perhaps we ought to try this delectable pudding first?”

Mrs. Pettigrew served her creation, drizzling it with a deep red sauce from the pitcher. Under the proprietress’s perusal, Finn sampled a forkful—and nearly moaned with pleasure. The sweet dough was soft and custardy on the inside, with a crisp and caramelized exterior. The textures and flavors were as comforting as a warm blanket in a cold orphanage. The cherry sauce—tart, sweet, and enriched with butter and brandy—elevated the dish from tasty to sublime.

“Do you find it to your liking, Madame Seraphina?” Mrs. Pettigrew asked.

Finn had to restrain herself from gobbling up the rest of her pudding. In her present role, she had to maintain an air of mysticism, as if she were above earthly needs.

“Yes.” She inclined her head graciously. “Your great-grandmama would have been most proud that you resurrected her recipe.”

Mrs. Pettigrew gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Do you sense that? Is she…is Great-Grandmama Esther here?”

In for a penny.

“Without the proper preparation and equipment, I cannot say for certain. However”—Finn pressed her fingertips to her temple—“I do sense a feeling of…pride from beyond. A spiritual satisfaction in knowing that her legacy has been passed on to another who shares her talent and love for cookery.”

“My mama, God rest her soul, always said that I took after Great-Grandmama Esther.” Mrs. Pettigrew’s eyes grew moist behind her spectacles. “Now I know it is true. Thank you, Madame Seraphina. My thanks to all of you for making this possible.”

“Your delectable pudding is ample reward,” Xenia said warmly.

“I have an idea,” Gigi announced.

This was unsurprising. The duchess struck Finn as a woman who was full of ideas.

“You must enter your dish in the pudding contest at the fair next month,” Gigi said. “You’ll be sure to claim first prize.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Mrs. Pettigrew twisted her fingers in her apron. “My pudding is a treat, to be sure, but bakers will be coming from the surrounding parishes. Their entries will be more refined⁠—”

“But not more delicious,” Xenia said. “What a splendid idea, Gigi.”

“Our husbands will be adjudicating the contest,” Gigi said. “And we shall be sure to cheer you on, Mrs. Pettigrew. Won’t we, Seraphina?”

Realizing that Gigi was addressing her, Finn blinked.

Why are these ladies so friendly?

Finn was not used to being welcomed. In the orphanage, she’d been shunned and alone until Iris showed up, and with the exception of the Hawks, she’d never felt a sense of belonging. The natural way these females included her made her feel…uneasy.

“If I am available,” she said vaguely. “A seer must go where she is called.”

After Mrs. Pettigrew departed, Gigi said, “I do hope you intend to stay awhile, Seraphina. You are just what Chuddums needs.”

“I am?”

“You said it yourself. You were summoned here.” Xenia lowered her voice. “I think it was Rose who called to you. I think she wants you to uncover a final secret at Bottoms House.”

My scheme is back on track.

Finn nodded sagely. “A séance at the manor might reveal the secrets Rose wishes to share.”

“And those secrets might lead to the breaking of the curse,” Gigi declared. “That must be why Rose led you to Chuddums—to us.”

“As the spirits instruct, so we should follow.” Finn smiled. “Shall I pay a visit to Bottoms House tomorrow?”

“Oh. Um.” Xenia bit her lip, exchanging looks with the others. “I may need to make some arrangements first⁠—”

“What Xenia is trying to delicately convey is that we must first deal with my brother Owen.” Gigi sighed. “As you may have noticed, he is skeptical of spiritualism.”

Drat you, Owen Harrington, for foiling me again.