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“Definitely not,” Cora agreed with a laugh. “Hence, my desire for the naughty older brother who was my partner in crime. Did you ever do stuff like that for your sister? Like save the day and get in fights for her and all that?”
An odd expression ghosted across Finn’s face. He took another drink, then set the glass back on the table. “Something like that.”
“Well, I think it’s wonderful that she’s going to be a lawyer,” Cora said. “You must’ve been a good influence if you inspired her to follow in your footsteps.”
Finn’s expression shuttered. “I think it was our similar upbringing, more than anything else.”
Cora wanted to ask what he meant, but she didn’t want to pry because he looked slightly uncomfortable. She quickly changed the subject. “I was surprised to see you at the police station on Monday. I didn’t realize you did pro-bono work.”
“It was part of my agreement when I signed on with Johnston & Knight. I keep a certain percentage of my time reserved for those cases.”
Cora lifted her brows in surprise. That was commendable of him. The more she learned about Finn, the more convinced she was that he was a genuinely good man. Suzette had once said Finn reminded her of Clark Kent, a superhero in disguise. A smile tugged at the corners of Cora’s mouth.
“What?” Finn asked.
“Nothing. It’s just really good of you to do that. What made you decide to take on pro-bono work?”
He stared down at the table for a few moments, like he was trying to gather his thoughts. Or maybe he was deciding whether or not to divulge personal information. Either way, Cora was intrigued.
“When I was eighteen, my father was wrongfully convicted of a crime,” Finn said quietly. “He got involved with some bad people and ended up becoming their scapegoat. He was innocent and needed a good lawyer, but my mother was a preschool teacher and my father worked in construction. We didn’t have the money to afford good representation. My dad got a court-appointed lawyer who meant well, but he was new to the job and already swamped with more cases than he could handle. It didn’t work out in my dad’s favor, and he was sent to prison for a crime he didn’t commit.”
Cora stared at Finn in shock. “That’s terrible. What happened afterward?”
“Nothing good.” Finn was wearing the cool, emotionless expression he reserved for the courtroom. There was a stark contrast between this mask and the warm, kindhearted person Cora knew him to be. “He died in prison. In his case, justice was never served.”
“Oh, my God. Finn, I’m so sorry.”
“It happens more often than we think,” he said in an offhand manner that didn’t fool Cora for one second. She could see that he felt deeply about the injustice, and she suspected it was the foundation for his chosen profession. “I decided after that I was going to study law and someday advocate for people who couldn’t afford to help themselves.”
“That’s amazing,” Cora said. “Truly. I can’t think of a better or more noble cause. Not everyone could experience a tragedy like that and still find a way to embrace the system and help others.”
Finn’s cheeks flushed, and he took a quick drink. “Well, it was either study law or become a masked vigilante on a quest for vengeance.” He gave her a self-deprecating smile. “I couldn’t afford rent on a decent bat cave, so it wasn’t a hard decision.”
Deep admiration bloomed inside her as she studied the man across the table. He was quiet and unassuming, and she was suddenly overcome with the realization that she’d known him for years and never bothered to find out what made him tick. But now the more she learned, the more she admired. There was no subterfuge with a man like Finn—at least not from what she could tell. He was as he appeared. Honest, with nothing to hide. And he was moral and steadfast in his quest for justice. No wonder her father liked him. Suzette had said Finn wasn’t the type of guy to sweep a girl off her feet. Maybe she was right, but deep down Cora had a feeling that someday, Finley Walsh was going to meet his perfect girl, and they were going to be very, very happy.
11
At noon on Saturday Liam leaned against a faux barrel of ale outside a colorful tent with the wordsYEOLDECOSTUMERENTALS. He watched Cora and Suzette disappear into the shop, pointing to the brightly colored skirts and scarves dangling from hooks along the ceiling. Coming to the Annual Summer Renaissance Faire had been Suzette’s crackpot idea of letting loose and having fun, and Cora had embraced the idea with enthusiasm.
Liam was still on the fence about the whole thing. While he appreciated the overall frivolity of the fairgoers and the exaggerated gaiety of the place, the anachronistic portrayal of centuries past made him feel like a hapless actor on a stage. It mirrored his actual situation a little too closely for comfort.
He scratched his head, turning in a circle as he took in the merchant stalls and costumed revelers. It was like standing in the middle of a Technicolored dream in which fantasy and modern entertainment were tossed into a bubbling cauldron of wildly inaccurate interpretations of the past. Here was a medieval princess in sunglasses clinging to a man in a wizard cape and blue jeans. There was a knight crusader wearing a baseball cap and eating a hot dog. A wood nymph in a fluorescent green bikini with tennis shoes wove through the crowd, trailing plastic vines and flowers in her wake. It was going to take Liam some time to ignore the glaring reminder that, like these actors and costumed revelers, he was just a player in this life, stumbling around on a stage not meant for him.
“Come, come, good sir!” A rotund man at the mouth of the costume tent boomed, beckoning to Liam. He wore poufy pantaloons over a striped doublet, a baggy velvet hat with a feather in it and a digital sport watch on his thick wrist. “Clothe thyself in our fine garb and catch a fair maiden’s eye!”
Liam shot him a dubious look. The outfits were eye-catching, to be sure. The Day-Glo colors and gaudy, spangled ensembles were enough to stab anyone in the eye. Whether or not the costumes were appealing to the finer sex remained to be seen.
“Liam,” Suzette called. “Get in here. We found something perfect for you.”
Cora waved a white pirate blouse with billowy sleeves, laughing at Liam’s expression. “Don’t be a spoilsport. You promised to embrace the spirit of fun, remember?”
Frowning, he ducked under the hanging scarves and approached his doom. This day was not turning out as he’d expected. When Suzette said they were going to go wild and enjoy a day free of worry, he’d pictured trips to the beach or nightclubs or roller coaster theme parks. What he hadn’t expected was to be immersed in a farcical reminder that he didn’t belong in this century. Worse still, his attempt to include Finn had failed in the most spectacular way. Finn had declined Cora’s invitation because he was flying to New York City with his sister for the weekend. Something about viewing potential apartment listings. When Cora announced he wasn’t able to make it, Suzette chimed up with even worse news. She’d invited Magnus Blackwell. Liam grimaced. The day was set up for disaster, but he was determined to find a way to knock Magnus down a peg or two. He just had to make sure Cora witnessed it.
“Liam, we’re typecasting you,” Suzette announced, shoving a pirate costume at him.
He reflexively caught the wide-cuffed overcoat as Cora placed a leather hat with dreadlocks on his head. “You look like Captain Jack Sparrow.”
“It’s only fitting,” Suzette explained as she ushered him toward the striped curtain concealing a small dressing room. “It was either this, or that Henry the Eighth-looking thing, and I just can’t see you in tights and a codpiece.” Neither could he, thank God for small mercies.
