Twenty-Six
Claire didn’t begin to shake until they were a good way from Lord Gelson’s house. The hack had given up and left them, which wasn’t a bad thing since the officials would have detained a carriage if they saw it leaving the scene of the crime. But Finn was shrewd. He led her through the garden and around the house, then back out to the street so that no one noticed they were leaving.
Claire’s teeth chattered and she hugged her arms around herself. “Finn,” she began softly.
“What?” He glanced left and right, constantly checking to be sure no one was following them. He was distracted by his vigilance.
“That was meant for me, wasn’t it?” she asked. He looked down at her briefly, his eyes skittering across her face.
“Probably,” he replied. He took her upper arm in his grip and hurried her along. “Let’s get a hack,” Finn suggested.
It was late at night, but there at the street corner sat a shabby carriage pulled by an old bay mare. Finn handed Claire in and gave the driver an address.
As Claire got into the coach, she settled against the squabs and tightened her arms about herself even more. She’d never seen a dead body before. At least not one that was meant to be her. Her teeth chattered so loudly that her jaw hurt with the rhythm.
Finn shrugged out of his coat and dropped it around her shoulders, pulling it closed as he pulled her into his lap and held her tightly. “Shhh,” he crooned. Claire settled her face into the crook of his neck and breathed in his scent. “It’s going to be all right,” he soothed, his hand rubbing up and down her back.
She nodded into his neck, but her body wouldn’t comply with her wishes that it stop shivering. “I don’t usually get like this in stressful situations.”
“I know,” he agreed. “You’re as stalwart as the day is long. It’s all right. I promise.”
“She looked surprised,” Claire murmured past her chattering teeth.
“Yes, she did,” Finn agreed. “Though I suppose that could be any number of emotions, and we’ll assume the worst since we already know she was murdered.”
Claire took his face in her hands and made him look at her. “He killed her because he thought she was me.”
“Yes.” Finn took her hands in his and chafed them gently between his own. She wasn’t terribly cold. She just couldn’t stop the blasted shaking. “He killed her because he thought she was you. He wanted you. He wanted to hurt you, because you are mine.”
She was his, and she’d never really appreciated that fact, had she? But she had his complete attention in that moment.
He went on to say forcefully, “But you are safe. You’re in the carriage with me, and Mayden is nowhere nearby.”
“Where are we going?”
“My house.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to be sure you’re all right.”
“I’m fine,” she said, but she still trembled.
“You’re not fine.”
“You can take me back to Ramsdale House.”
“No.”
His tone brooked no argument. None whatsoever.
The hackney stopped and the driver hopped down to open the door. Finn stepped out and swept Claire up in his arms when she would have stepped out on shaky legs. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tightly.
His footman opened the door and stepped quickly to the side when Finn nearly barreled him over. “Good evening, my lord,” the man said.
“Bring a hot bath up to my chambers,” Finn barked.
“Yes, my lord,” the man said as he scuttled away.