Page 70 of Four Promises to Love

“On that note,” Xenia said. “I wanted to show you this, Finn.”

She held up a beechwood hairbrush.

“This brush belonged to Rose,” Xenia explained. “I thought it might serve a similar purpose to Gerald Elmwood’s handkerchief. Soon after I found it, I started experiencing Rose’s memories.”

“What was the nature of those memories, my lady?” Caleb spoke up.

When everyone looked at him, he added, “The details might help Madame Seraphina in her quest to connect beyond the veil.”

“In that case, I shall describe what I can remember.” Xenia drew a breath. “In some of the dreams, Rose was running from her abuser. She was scared and desperate and had nowhere to go.”

“You needn’t speak of this distressing business, pet,” Ethan cut in. “In your condition⁠—”

“I’m fine.” She smiled at him. “I am safe because of you—just as Rose found safety with Thomas. I had dreams of her finding shelter here in the manor, then falling in love with its master. But then…then the enemy came. Hers and mine. And in my time of need, Rose took me to that secret room behind the fireplace. The same way she led you, Finn.”

“You don’t recall other details?” Caleb asked. “Such as the spirit hiding something?”

“The only thing I saw her hiding was herself.” Xenia frowned. “Why does that matter?”

“What my assistant means to say”—Finn shot Caleb a quelling look—“is that spirits become restless when they wish to retrieve something from their past life. Something valuable, for instance, to which they remain attached.”

“I know what it could be!” Gigi exclaimed.

Finn and Caleb swung their heads in her direction.

“What?” they asked as one—then glared at each other.

“In my visions, I also saw Rose being pursued by her enemy,” Gigi said. “She stopped to hide her most precious possession: the marriage license that proved she and Thomas married before he died.”

“A piece of paper.” Caleb looked as if he’d bit into a lemon. “That is all you found, Your Grace?”

“Yes,” Gigi said. “Owen and I found it together, hidden in a tree by the stream.”

“There was nothing else in the hollow,” Owen added. “I looked.”

“This is indeed interesting,” Finn said. “And bears further exploration.”

“In the meantime, would you like this hairbrush?” Xenia held it out. “Perhaps it will aid your efforts to contact Rose today?”

“Indeed.” Finn’s smile was enigmatic. “Nell, please bring the brush to me.”

As Nell fetched the brush, Owen flashed to Finn, curled up and weeping, those glowing stranger’s eyes peering back at him. His lungs burned as Nell placed the item on Finn’s lap. Finn went stiff as a board, her eyelashes fanning rapidly. He tensed and was about to snatch the object and toss it into the fire when Finn opened her eyes. Those wide, unblinking orbs shone, and her voice rang with otherworldly authority.

“Join hands,” she said. “We must form a circle to summon Rose.”

As Finn felt Owen’s protective grip on her hand, self-revulsion churned her belly. Yet she had made her choice; for Iris’s sake, she had to move forward with her deception. It was unfortunate that the Harringtons hadn’t shared any useful information, but that would have been too easy.

She’d feigned her reaction to the hairbrush, unsurprised that it hadn’t triggered a vision. Her previous encounters with Rose hadn’t been precipitated by contact with a physical object. They had come seemingly out of nowhere, and right now, Finn didn’t feel the onset of anything other than guilt.

She could live with being a liar—to anyone but Owen. Although she kept her gaze fixed and unblinking as if she were seeing something no one else could, she was aware he was watching her. His tension flowed through their joined hands, as if he were ready to battle ghosts for her. He’d already suffered because of a pointless war; now she was using his honorable nature against him—again.

It killed her.

Get on with it, Finn. Put on the mask of Rose. Play your part.

She’d come up with a sound stratagem—at least it was better than Caleb’s unsubtle probing. In the guise of Rose, she would pretend she had lost something dear and ask the Harringtons to help her. They would probably turn the estate inside out in their quest to bring her peace. In doing so, they might uncover the jewels’ hiding place—and the Hawks could pounce.

Finn opened her mouth to force out the lie. Yet her throat went dry, her tongue like cotton in her mouth. She couldn’t make herself do it.