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Ashley sighed and pushed back from the table. “She doesn’t quake in fear at the sight of me, if that’s what you’re wondering. In fact, she has told me on more than one occasion that she’s not afraid of me at all.”

“Well, there’s a fortunate turn of events. Mother was ready to find a comely, blind, deaf widow with whom you could while away your days.”

“Mother should mind her own matters.”

“But she has such a good time minding yours.” Finn cleared his throat loudly. “What are your intentions with Miss Thorne?”

“I intend to launch a full investigation into her character,” Ashley said without even cracking a grin. “If I’m to marry the chit, I’ll have to find out how many skeletons are in her closet. If she has more than one murder in her past, then she outdoes me, and I simply cannot have that.”

“You can be such an arse,” Finn said.

“I do try,” Ashley drawled. He hit the table gently with his open palm. “Deal the cards.”

Finn regarded him stoically. “Would you like for me to investigate her?”

“It’s not necessary,” Ashley began. The lady would probably never speak to him again once she spent some time at the Hall and heard all the stories about him from his mother’s guests. It would be no great loss either way. At that very moment, dinner was going on below stairs. He’d refused to attend. But Miss Thorne was probably there. And she was certainly being informed about his past.

“What kind of gift did you send her? Flowers?”

“A wind chime,” Ashley replied without even thinking. “The one from my garden.” At Finn’s perplexed look, he kept going. “She admired it greatly.”

“You allowed her into your garden, did you?” Finn said as he began to deal. “You don’t even let me into your garden.”

“I don’t allow problems in my private space. And you carry a lot of baggage.” He laughed. “Like Mother.” He pretended to mull over his cards, but he wouldn’t know twenty-one if it bit him on the arse, not now that the subject of Sophia Thorne had arisen. “She’s charming,” he said quickly. Then he waited for Finn’s response.

Nothing. Absolutely no response at all.

“Don’t you have a comment? An unsolicited suggestion? An unwanted barb?”

“An uncommon quiet. Take it for what it’s worth.”

“And what might that be?” Ashley hated it when people were cryptic about their feelings.

Finn laid his cards on the table. Literally. “I think you like the lady. And I, for one, am damned happy to see it. So, don’t go scaring her off with your scowls and dark looks.”

“I do not scowl.”

“You look as though you’ve sucked a lemon most days, Robin,” Finn said good-naturedly. “Or two.”

“You don’t know what it’s like…” Ashley began.

“No, I don’t. And I probably never will. But I know what it’s like to be lonely. And I think you’ve been lonely long enough.”

Ashley snorted. “Lovely. Now you’ve become some great philosopher.”

“You could think of a better name to call me.”

“They’re all rolling around in my head, waiting for an opportunity to bruise your pride.”

Finn said, “Pride… hide… As long as something is bruised, I know I’m alive.”

“One must hurt to be alive, is that it?” Ashley watched Finn’s face.

“Then you have been alive for a very long time, have you not?”

Ouch. Perhaps his brother would do him the honor of pulling the knife from his chest after that one.

“Apologies, Robin,” Finn said with a heavy sigh. “It’s nice to see you interested in someone. Something not involving your land, tenants, or business interests. Something recreational.”

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