by Platt, Meara
Finn ignored the question.
The expression on his face must have given him away, for Ronan’s eyes widened in surprise. “Let me know if I should return for a wedding.”
“There’s little chance of it. Belle still needs convincing.”
“Lay on the Brayden charm. She’ll be falling into your arms before you know it.”
Finn wished his brother well, reminded him to send word immediately if he sensed danger, then stepped down from the carriage once it drew up in front of his office. He had trouble concentrating on his work, his attention constantly diverted by the ticking clock on his mantel. He was impatient for two o’clock to approach.
Finally, at quarter to the hour, he set down his quill pen, told his clerks he’d return in a few hours, and walked off to meet Belle. Even if they made no further progress on The Book of Love, she still had to be seen with him if her father was to believe their courtship ruse when they reached Oxford.
He saw two golden-haired heads bobbing in the distance and breathed a sigh of relief. Belle had come. He wasn’t certain she would. “Good afternoon,” he said, escorting her and Honey into the Royal Academy building.
He noticed Belle did not have the book with her.
“I decided not to bring it. But thank you for returning it to me. Did you manage to read it in its entirety?”
He nodded.
“Was it helpful?”
“It was interesting. Yes, perhaps helpful. That remains to be seen. We don’t need it today.”
She arched an eyebrow in surprise. “We don’t?”
“No.” He stood beside her as her sister and maid walked in to take their seats in the lecture hall. “We don’t even have to talk. We can stay for the lecture if you wish.”
“But that would be a waste of two hours when we could be learning about love.”
“And learning more about each other.” He nodded in agreement. “But you have to be open to it, Belle. I’m not happy about what happened yesterday. I wanted to kiss you, but I went about it all wrong.”
She sighed. “I could have objected at any point but didn’t. I wanted to kiss you, too.”
He smiled at her. “Well, that’s progress.”
“I’m sorry I left the book at home.”
He placed her arm in his and escorted her outdoors to their usual bench. “The chapters on the five senses are not difficult once you understand that looking at someone, or hearing what that person is saying, and so on, needs to be done without a cloud of judgment.”
“Much like distilling a fragrance to its essence.”
“Yes, very much so. Strip away everything but its purest kernel.” He sank onto the bench beside her. “I’m an organized person. I’ve been known to make lists for business decisions. The pros and cons of an acquisition or a sale. I’ve never made lists on matters of love. But I think it will be helpful for us. Shall I start?”
“Very well, but will this be a general list or one specific to me?”
“Specific to you, Belle. You’re the reason I’m here. You’re the reason I stayed up all night reading that book. You’re the reason I look forward to our afternoon meetings. I’d find a thousand excuses not to be here if it were anyone else.”
Her eyes widened, for he’d surprised her again. “I’m flattered.”
Why was she always surprised when he complimented her? This disappointed him. She had to know he cared for her. “You don’t really believe me. What’s holding you back? Do I appear untrustworthy?”
“Not at all, Finn.” A rosy blush spread across her cheeks. “You know why I can’t…”
“Ah, those delicate lungs of yours. You still believe I can make a list running on two pages of all your positive attributes, but this one negative completely erases them all. What if I told you I have a bad heart? That I could very well be dead by the age of thirty.”
“Oh, Finn! Is it true?” She placed a hand on his arm in a natural gesture of comfort.
“Would it make a difference in how you felt about me?”
“Only in how quickly I’d move matters along. Knowing there’s limited time, every moment has to be precious.”
“But if you loved me, you wouldn’t turn me down because of it if I proposed to you?”
“No, I—”
“Then why won’t you believe I feel the same about you?”
“It’s different.” She gave a stubborn shake of her head.
“Not different. It’s exactly the same thing. Despite what the damn book says, I’m not looking to marry a body part. But I’m not here to argue with you, Belle. Tell me more about yourself.”
“What do you wish to know?”
He shrugged. “Whatever you wish to tell me. What were you like as a little girl? What are your hopes and dreams? What do you enjoy doing? What irritates you? What intrigues you? You can even tell me how today’s visit was with Lady Wycke. Pick any topic.”
“And you’ll listen?”
He cast her a soft smile. “With my ears and my heart.”
Chapter Seven
Belle hated when Finn said nice things to her. Well, she didn’t really, but it only pointed out how perfect he was, and how could he possibly like her as much as he did?
Violet had mentioned the Brayden men were honorable, not the sort to fawn over women or spout poetry because this was expected in the game of conquest.
No, these Braydens were straightforward and no-nonsense, in a heartwarming, sweep-you-off-your-feet way.
She saw this in Finn, and it frightened her.
He sighed, regaining her attention. “Start talking, Miss Farthingale. The lecture will be over before we’ve accomplished anything.”
She even liked the gentle, teasing way he nudged her. This was one of the many things she adored about him. He had an intimidating frown and a severe manner about him, but he was never that way with her, only playful and coaxing. “I don’t know what to say about myself.”
He grinned. “Yes, you do. You just don’t like to talk about yourself. May I add, this is an admirable trait. Most people are more than happy to chatter on and on about themselves, boring others to tears. It is often the ones you want to hear from who keep silent, such as you. Please, Belle. Tell me whatever you wish about yourself. It can be something frivolous, but I hope you’ll tell me something important. Something you feel is significant to you.”
“Will you do the same?”
He nodded. “Yes, I promise.”
She nibbled her lip, finding it hard to talk about herself. But it was important for Finn to learn all about her. Then he’d understand why he had to forget her and move on. “Very well. I shall start at the very beginning. I was born before my time. I mean, physically speaking. I wasn’t due to be born for at least another month. I arrived early. My parents were not sure I would survive.”
Finn cast her a smile that shot straight to her heart. “But you did. You were a little fighter.”
She rolled her eyes. Why did he always do this? Turn a fault into a compliment? “I was a sickly child. My family wasn’t certain I would survive beyond my childhood.”
“And yet, here you are.”
She frowned at him. “They had to change their lives because of me, moving closer to Oxford because I seemed to be sensitive to everything in the countryside. Hay, grass, flowers, cattle.”
“And had they not done this, they might never have discovered your talent for fragrances, and might not now be running the most successful—”
“Gad! Why are you so chirpy? You look like a Viking warrior, someone more comfortable carrying a battle axe to crack heads open if anyone dares speak to you before you’ve had your breakfast. Yet, here you are, twisting everything I say into something rosy and cheerful. Do you spring out of bed, humming a sprightly tune every morning? Or fall asleep every night with the drapes open, so the sunshine hits your face as it rises to mark the start of a new day?”
He stretched his arm across the back of the bench and eased closer. �
�No one has ever called me chirpy before. I am not chirpy. I sleep with the drapes closed. I bite off people’s heads if they chatter at me before I’ve read my morning newspaper. Have you ever considered that you’re the one twisting my words? If I said you are beautiful, how would you respond?”
She swallowed hard. Her instinct was to say no, I’m not. Even though he was regarding her sternly, she could see the tenderness in his gaze. She tried not to smile but couldn’t help it. “I’d say, of course I am beautiful. I’m so amazingly beautiful, I outshine the sun. Indeed, the sun weeps before me, for it pales in comparison to my dazzling magnificence. I’m so beautiful, tulips pour from my lips whenever I speak, and roses spout from my arse whenever I—”
“Belle!” He burst out laughing. “Well done. Go on, tell me more.”
“Isn’t this enough?” She felt the heat rising in her cheeks, for she’d never spoken so boldly to a man in her entire existence.
He shook his head. “Not nearly enough. Tell me about your eyes.”
“My vision is good. I don’t wear spectacles.”
He leaned back and groaned. “Were you always this contrary as a child? No, say something poetically nice about your eyes.”
“Isn’t that your job? To flatter innocent debutantes and make them swoon at your feet. You want me to spout drivel? Besides, I don’t look at my eyes. I don’t know what other people see in them.”
He drew close once again, his gaze hot enough to melt the bench where they were seated. “Very well then, let me describe your eyes. They sparkle like blue diamonds. But they aren’t cold like those gems. They’re warm and inviting. I see kindness and compassion in them. I see intelligence and impudence. Most of all, I see a vulnerable beauty.”
She sighed. “Let’s move on to your hopes and dreams. What do you wish for in life, Finn?”
He arched an eyebrow. “We’re still on you. How about you answer the question you posed. What do you want most in life?”
She clasped her hands together as they rested on her lap and stared down at them. “To be happy. Isn’t this what most people wish for.”
He teased a curl at her ear. “Yes, I would think so. And what will make you happy? Truth, Belle. This is what your Book of Love is all about, sharing yourself with the person you wish to make your partner for life. I read it cover to cover last night. This is important to us.”
“Us?” She cleared her throat.
“Yes, us. You can pretend this isn’t real. But don’t expect me to play along.”
“You aren’t one for playing games, are you?”
His lips curled upward in the hint of a smile. “No.”
“Um, will you repeat the question?”
He chuckled. “You’re stalling, but very well. This isn’t a test…well, perhaps it is in a way. But there is no right or wrong answer. Nor does it have to be a deep or meaningful answer. It can be something in the moment, a whim or fancy. Don’t think too hard about it. Answer with your heart, that’s all you need to do. What will make you happy, Belle?”
She was still staring down at her lap. “Kissing you, I should think.”
His breath caught, for he hadn’t expected this answer. Yet, it pleased him beyond anything else she could have said. “That’s an amazing coincidence. I was thinking the same thing about you.”
She looked up, startled. Ever so slowly, her expression began to relax until she was smiling at him. He wanted to take her in his arms then and there and plant a scorching kiss on her beautiful lips. But he noticed Honey approaching. “Timing is everything,” he muttered and eased away.
“Oh, Finn. What were we thinking? We couldn’t have done anything about it here anyway.” Belle was as disappointed as he was, but she pasted a too-bright smile on her face as her sister approached.
“We’ll take this up tonight at Lord Goring’s musicale,” he said, glancing beyond her shoulder. “Your sister is overset. I wonder what’s happened.”
Belle jumped to her feet and rushed toward Honey. “What’s wrong?”
“Father’s been hurt. Only a sprained ankle and some bruises. Uncle Rupert happened to be in Oxford and heard about it. He couldn’t stay long with Father because he had meetings in Carlisle and had to leave that very day, but he wrote to Uncle John to convey his alarm. Now, Uncle John has sent Abner Mayhew with the carriage to bring us home right away. He must suspect there is something more than an accidental trip and fall going on.” She glanced at Finn. “I don’t know what to do. Shall we cancel our house party?”
“No. It seems more important than ever to have my brother and me join you. Obviously, there is something seriously amiss. But let’s hear what your uncle has to say first.” He walked Belle and Honey to the Farthingale carriage, the three of them silent as they were lost in their thoughts. He was the first to speak. “May I ride with you? I want to hear what your uncle has to say.”
Belle nodded. “Yes, we brought you into this and don’t want to keep anything important from you.”
Their maid had been following a few steps behind them and must have been listening. She hopped up beside the driver, smiling at Finn as he helped her up. He then assisted Honey into the carriage but held Belle back a moment before lifting her up. “If things are as bad as we all fear, I think you both should stay in London with your aunt and uncle. Joshua and I will go to Oxford on our own to investigate.”
Belle stared at him, looking ready to kick him in the shin. “Are you mad? We’re not staying here when Father needs us.”
He placed a restraining hand on her shoulder. “Your father needs you to be safe. I need you to be safe.”
“Why? Because you’re courting me?”
“Yes, and I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“Honey and I will be careful. Now that the family is aware of the danger, my father will have to tell us what is going on.”
Finn hid his irritation. In truth, his heart was in his throat at the thought of Belle returning to her home. Anything could happen to her. Nor did he like her ability to dismiss him as though he meant nothing to her. “I’m going to marry you,” he blurted.
“What?”
At least then, he could share her bed in order to protect her day and night from whatever danger lurked in Oxford. “I’m going to marry you.”
She shook her head and laughed. “Now? At a time like this? No, you’re not.”
“I’m going to marry you whether you like it or not.”
“Gad, was that a proposal? Because it sounded more like a threat than a declaration of love.”
“Damn it, Belle. You’re twisting my words again.” He sighed. “I didn’t mean it to come out that way. I’m worried about you. Not knowing what danger is lurking out there is gnawing at my gut. Let me protect you.”
“Because I’m weak and cannot take care of myself?”
“No, because I’m in love with you and will go mad if I can’t keep you safe.” He understood she was overset about her father’s injury. She was also unhappy about his own desire to marry her, but he knew his mind and was not going to deny his feelings for her.
Yes, he was arrogant and perhaps overbearing, but he loved her and did not like that she was dismissing him. She had just told him that kissing him would make her happy. A girl like Belle would not admit such a thing unless she returned his love.
Indeed, getting her to admit her feelings was like wrenching a sore tooth out of her mouth. Lots of pain, lots of resistance. “I will ask you to marry me again. I will ask you every day until you accept.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Do you hear yourself? Are you serious?”
“Every day, Belle. Every single day.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that last remark. Utter it again, and I shall discharge you from your assignment.”
“You can’t discharge me. You’re not paying me to help. I’m offering it, and I’m damn well not letting you or your sister walk into the hands of these villains. Wherever you go, I follow. And before you shout at
me and call me a possessive oaf, let me point out that I doubt Sophie or John will allow you to leave their home. If you somehow convince them to let you return to Oxford, they will insist on proper protection.”
She frowned at him, no doubt peeved he was right.
“Joshua and I will provide it. And if you continue to protest…” He glanced up at the heavens. “Lord help me, I’ll bring my mother along. She’s Attila the Hun and Queen Boudica all rolled into one. She’ll set Oxford in flames and chop off the heads of anyone who dares get near you.”
Honey cast him a smile, for she’d been quietly listening to his and Belle’s exchange. “Lady Miranda sounds lovely.”
Finn ran a hand through his hair and gave a raspy laugh. “Actually, she is. You just don’t want to get in her way when she’s angry.” He turned to Belle. “This is serious business. If you go home, I’m going with you. And I want to do it as your husband.”
Belle climbed into the carriage and settled beside Honey with a huff.
Finn climbed in after her and sank his large frame onto the seat across from theirs. The Farthingale carriage had well-padded, black leather benches. It was a large and comfortable conveyance, able to accommodate a horde of Farthingales. “Marry me, Belle.”
“I will not dignify that comment with an answer.”
Honey cleared her throat. “Um, you might try that proposal as a question rather than a demand. I know you Braydens are military, and perhaps you’ve mistaken your intended wife for a soldier under your command, but…” She sighed and stopped talking since he and Belle were too busy frowning at each other to pay her any attention.
They hurried inside John and Sophie’s home the moment the carriage rolled up to the front gate. The Farthingale butler, Pruitt, had been standing by the open door, obviously awaiting Belle and her sister. “Mr. Farthingale is in his study,” he said, motioning to a solid mahogany door that was slightly ajar.