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folded them behind his back, a picture of innocence. Finch’s gaze lingered on him for a long
moment, a glimmer of something sparkling behind his professional facade, then cleared his
throat and proceeded to tell Hugh all about the job listings he’d posted on some ‘Attendant
network’ in search of the right men and women for the job. Hugh didn’t hear much of it. He
didn’t really care. As long as Finch had the help he needed, that was all that mattered. What
interested Hugh was the way Finch kept subconsciously brushing his pocket, like he was taking
pleasure from feeling the coins within it. That thought kept Hugh up well into the night and
ultimately drove him into his hoard, where he lay on sheets woven with threads of gold and
came again and again imagining that a pretty Disgrace who looked alarmingly like Finch was
there in bed with him.
Hugh
“Finch,” Hugh said out of the blue over lunch several weeks later. “You’ve been under my
employ for, what, five years?”
Finch lowered his forkful of quiche. “Thirteen, sir.”
“Thirteen! Thirteen whole years.” Hugh crossed his arms on the table and leaned over his
untouched meal. “It makes it even more bizarre that I know so little about you. All this time
you’ve been so focused on me that you’ve never shared much about you, and I find that sad.
Will you share your story with me?”
Finch was, by nature, pale, but when Hugh put forth the question he turned nearly transparent.
“My story, sir?”
“Your history,” Hugh clarified. “Where you come from, what experiences you’ve had, and what
makes you the man you are. I know small things about you—like that you enjoy the company
of two chocolate-chip loving ladies, and that you’re originally from England—but there must be
more. What was your childhood like? What are your hobbies? If you were given the choice
between a vacation to the mountains or to the beach, which would you choose and why?”
“Sir… are you fishing for information so you can send me on vacation?”
Hugh shrugged, but he also smiled. “Would you go if I was?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Not even after the ball?”
Finch said nothing for a long while as the joy in his eyes deteriorated. It was alarming. But right
