The Magic of I Do (Faerie 2)

“Fine, according to the physician.” She placed a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. “You should have seen Finn’s face. He tried to convince me it was my menses. He was so sensible about the whole thing.”

“How long did that last?”

Claire’s mother interjected. “Until she confessed. Then he looked like he’d been knocked over the head with an anvil.”

“He was rather surprised.” Claire heaved a sigh. “I just hope he doesn’t hate me.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” her mother said. “I went to talk to him about it last night. I wasn’t leaving until I knew he was calm and reasonable.” She ate the edge off a biscuit. “And he was already calm and reasonable. And giddy.”

Sophia looked at her again, a sly grin crossing her lips. “So, what were you doing when the bleeding started?”

Heat crept up Claire’s cheeks again. “What do you think we were doing?”

“I take it Lord Phineas knows his way around the bedchamber,” Sophia asked.

“Lord Phineas knows his way around everything,” Claire confessed.

Their mother wiped a tear from her cheek again.

“Are you all right?” Claire and Sophia both asked at the same time.

“Ignore me. I’m just happy to get to be here at this point in your lives.” She waved a dismissive hand in the air. “That’s all.”

“So, what scares Lord Phineas the most? He honestly sounded like he feared for your safety. Something about Mayden?”

“The earl?” their mother asked.

“The murderer. He killed Ashley’s first wife.” Sophia shook her head sadly. “She wasn’t a very good person, but Mayden had convinced her that she loved him. And then Mayden threw her from the turret of the castle when things didn’t go his way. Ashley has always felt responsible for it.”

“And last week he killed the modiste, who he just happened to believe was me. So Finn is worried for my safety.” She told them that story, and they listened intently. The three of them lived for these kinds of things. At least they had that in common. Once a mission faerie, always a mission faerie.

Twenty-Nine

Finn arrived home so late that Claire was dozing in the bed. He walked quietly over to the bed and looked down at her. Her strawberry blond hair was plaited over her shoulder, and her nightrail was open at her throat. He had a sudden and nearly overwhelming desire to place his lips there.

Finn bent over to tug off his boots, and then divested himself of his coat and waistcoat, but she stirred when he put his watch down because it made a soft noise.

She stretched tall, her arms over her head. Then she smiled at him. “Did you just get home?”

“Sorry I woke you,” he said softly.

Damn, but she was beautiful. She was sleepy eyed and looked soft as cotton. He wanted to grab her and never let her go.

“I’m not,” she said with a smile as she sat up. “Where have you been?”

He pointed to a trunk he’d placed on the floor by the bed. “Your father sent you a present.”

“My father knows where I am?” She looked frantic. And scared.

“Your father thinks you are spending time with Sophia and Robin this week.”

She relaxed perceptibly. “Thank goodness.”

He sat down on the side of the bed and looked down at her as he pulled off his cravat. “Are you worried about what your father will think?”

She shrugged, but he could tell she was bothered by it. “A little,” she finally admitted.

“It can’t be changed now,” he said drolly.