Page 66 of Four Promises to Love

He smothered her giggles with another kiss.

Nineteen

Finn awoke to a golden glow. It took her a moment to recognize the guest bedchamber at Bottoms House. Turning her head, she saw the indentation on the pillow next to hers and smiled dreamily as memories of last night washed through her.

She and Owen had been insatiable. After she’d given him the naughtiest of kisses, he’d carried her to bed and feasted on her until she was boneless from pleasure. Only then did he come again, thrusting his cock between her breasts and flooding that valley with his hot seed.

Sated and safe in his arms, she’d fallen into a deep slumber, and he must have left without waking her. Rolling over, she buried her nose in the pillow and inhaled his scent. He stirred her like no one else—and it wasn’t just passion.

It was more. Thrillingly, terrifyingly more.

She felt the tender press of his lips against the ugly marks of her past.

If I were to fall in love with any woman, it would be you.

She flopped onto her back, heart pounding at the bind she’d placed herself in. How could she have feelings for the man she knew she would ultimately betray? And not just any man. A decent, honorable fellow who’d already endured more than his share of pain, yet who treated her with care and respect. Which she did not deserve.

If I told him the truth, would he help me? Or would I be signing Iris’s death warrant?

The fact that she was contemplating compromising the mission for her own happiness twisted her insides with shame. But maybe, just maybe, there was a way to accomplish both objectives. Could Finn find a way to save Iris—and be worthy of Owen?

At the knock on the door, she bolted upright.

“Yes?” she called.

A maid came in, a garment draped over her arm. Pretty and giggly, she bore a close resemblance to two of the other maids, and Finn couldn’t remember her name.

“Hello…Mary?” she ventured.

“It’s Millie, ma’am.” The maid bobbed a curtsy. “The mistress says to inform you that your assistants have arrived and await you in the drawing room.”

Finn dreaded explaining her vision to her gang.

Will they believe me? Or will they think I’m a candidate for Bedlam?

“I can assist with your ablutions,” Millie offered. “Milady also sent one of her gowns as yours was soiled yesterday.”

The maid held up the dress: constructed of apple-green satin and trimmed with ivory lace, it was the prettiest gown Finn had ever seen, let alone worn. Temptation warred with pragmatism. Dare she abandon the black seer’s dress, which served as part of her disguise? What would the Hawks think? On the other hand, how would Owen react to seeing her in a fashionable frock for once?

She chewed on her lip.

“If this one doesn’t suit, you may have your pick,” Millie said. “The master is a generous husband, and milady has many gowns. She says you’re welcome to any of them.”

Xenia’s kindness made Finn feel smaller than an ant.

“This one will do,” she said.

She got out of bed and prepared to meet with her gang.

Entering the drawing room, Finn saw Owen making idle chatter with the Hawks. Despite her pressing concerns, she marveled at his handsomeness. The morning sun brought out glints of bronze in his wild brown hair. His olive frock coat and tobacco-brown trousers suited his coloring and lean, rangy build. When he spotted her, he crossed over in that long-legged stride that made her heart flutter.

“Good morning.” He kissed her hand. “How are you feeling?”

Aware of the Hawks’ scrutiny, she spoke tentatively. “Very well, thank you.”

“You look well.” He lowered his voice. “I didn’t think you could be any more beautiful, Finn. But there you go, proving me wrong again.”

“It’s the dress.” Blushing, she ran her hands over the satiny skirts. “Xenia lent it to me.”