Page 95 of Four Promises to Love

Finn took the seat at the opposite end, smiling gratefully when Nell brought her a steaming cup. She took a long drink before speaking.

“We are not stealing the bloody ring.”

“I knew you would side with the toffs,” Caleb shot back. “They have more blunt than they know what to do with. The ring means nothing to them. Meanwhile, Carver is going to kill Iris if we don’t give him what he wants.”

“Giving Carver the ring is like pouring blood into shark-infested waters,” Finn said. “It does not appease the shark and makes it more vicious. It isn’t the ring Carver wants—it is the entire parure. The sight of that emerald ring will make him more rabid, not less. He will put more pressure on us to find the rest, and he’ll do so by hurting Iris.”

Nell cleared her throat. “Are you certain? You are not saying this because, um, you’ve grown fond of the Harringtons?”

Et tu, Nell?

Yet Finn couldn’t blame Nell for saying what the others were thinking.

“I do like them,” she acknowledged. “How could I not? They’ve been kind and welcoming—and they’re decent folk. They care about the village and want to fix old injustices.”

“And they serve good food,” Tansy said, chewing on her toast.

“You haven’t mentioned Lord Greenfingers,” Caleb said mockingly. “I think his interest in you goes beyond the bloody curse.”

“It’s true that he and I have an attraction.” There was no point in denying it. “However, Iris comes first. I would not sacrifice her well-being for anyone—for any reason.”

“We should just take your word for it?” Caleb inquired. “People in love are known to be fools. Take my ma. Fell for a rich bloke and when he didn’t want anything to do with her bastard, she discarded me like an old shoe. Fat lot of good that did her. Tired of her, didn’t he, and left her with nothing. Aye, that’s how she ended up being a pathetic, used-up old whore.”

Despite Caleb’s harshness, Finn felt a twinge of empathy. She knew his story and the reason for the chip on his shoulder. She remembered when Iris had brought him into the gang—how prickly and distrustful he’d been. It was a scary thought, but he’d come a long way.

“You could end up that way too, Finn Kidd,” he said with a sneer. “Unless you’re wiser than my ma and use your brains instead of spreading your thighs like a trollop.”

Her compassion fizzled.

“I am not your mother,” she bit out. “I am your leader, and you will heed my decision. All of you will. Under no circumstances is Carver to learn about the emerald ring. I will send him a note today telling him about the progress we’ve made with the clues. That should buy us more time. When we have the full set of jewels, then and only then can we safely barter for Iris’s return. Do you understand?”

Everyone around the table nodded except Caleb.

“Do you wish to challenge me?” she asked coolly.

“What is the point?” He shoved his chair back, glaring at everyone around the table. “We’re not Hawks, we’re bloody sheep. Everyone does as you say. So be it: Iris’s blood is on your hands, Finn. You better not be leading her to slaughter. You better know what you’re doing.”

He stormed off.

Finn gripped her teacup. The surface rippled, and she realized her hands were trembling.

I hope I know what I am doing too.

Twenty-Seven

Later that morning, Finn reconvened at Bottoms House with Xenia, Lord Ethan, and the Grantleys. They resumed dissecting the clue. What lies might Felix be referring to? Xenia jotted down a list of possibilities. The most obvious one was about Rose murdering Thomas. Related to that was the false claim that Rose and Thomas were enemies when they were lovers—and eventually man and wife. Also, the villagers had wrongly accused her of being a witch.

The group scrutinized the falsehoods from various angles but failed to make headway.

“Perhaps we ought to be focusing on this F. P.,” Gigi suggested. “If we knew more about him, then it might be easier to decipher his riddle.”

Finn squirmed because she knew F. P. was Felix Pearce. Yet she couldn’t tell the others about Carver’s letter…but maybe she could pretend to have a vision and give them Felix’s name? The trouble was she knew little about Felix, and they needed more information to solve his riddle.

“Good thinking, duchess,” Grantley said. “However, James and Evie have found no Pearces whose first name started with F in the parish records. While they’re giving it another go, I think their chances for success are slim.”

“That is why we need to consult a different source.”

The duke lifted his brows. “What source?”