Finley Embraces Heart and Home (Love Austen 4)

How much of it is relief?

I shrug in response to Ford, and he lets out a soft, curious “huh,” then adds a small laugh. “I get it. You and Bennet aren’t together, but you want to be.”

I don’t tell him he’s wrong. I tune him out and tune in to Tom’s conversation instead.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” Bennet says.

“You’re welcome here whenever you like. Do you know what Finley’s plans are? Do you think he’ll move to Wellington?”

Bennet looks over at me, brow wavering in confusion. “I’m not sure what his plans are. He hasn’t talked to you about them?”

Tom’s eyes meet mine and there’s something sad in their depths. “Not so much. He still hasn’t taken up my offer to look over his job applications.”

I bow my head to my poached eggs on toast and cut into them. The yolk spills out of the egg and it might as well be my heart. How can he love me and hate me at the same time? Pick one and stick with it!

Like I’ve stuck with hating him.

The thought is jarring and I can’t bring myself to eat.

Have I been as cold to him as he is when it comes to me and Ethan? Is part of our broken relationship my stubbornness about accepting him?

I scooch my chair back and quietly leave the chattering around the table.

Cress bumps into me in the foyer. Her phone is in her hand and she’s smiling. I’m certain she’s just finished a call with Ethan. Maybe going over party plans for tonight.

She frowns. “You okay, Fin?”

“Fine.”

She hesitates. “Ethan is on his way.”

“Really, I’m fine.”

“Oh. Um . . . want to see what Ford and I were up to last night?” She grabs my wrist and leads me through the house. Her room tastes like perfume, intensified by the sun streaming in. Spread out on the desk, in the only corner of shade, are hundreds of coloured feathers and mirrored tiles and fake jewels.

“We made, like, a dozen masks. I’m wearing the peacock one there on the corner.”

“Looks beautiful.”

“Do you have one yet?”

I’d searched my rooms high and low for the Venetian mask I’d worn that day . . . Lost. “Not yet.”

“Then you have to have one of these. Any one you like.”

I hesitate. Wearing one of Cress and Ford’s? It feels . . . wrong. Like accepting them, their importance. Like I’m stepping away from the fork and onto this . . . path.

“This one with the gold would look stunning with your complexion.”

She urges me to try it on.

It sits heavily on my nose, and I readjust the straps. The mirror tosses my reflection back at me; simple, but stunning.

Cress claps her hands. “That looks incredible on you. You have to wear it.”

“Um, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Ford made that one specifically with you in mind.”

“He did?”

“He didn’t stop talking about you the whole night. I think he was disappointed you had plans with Bennet and couldn’t join us.” She wraps an arm around me and squeezes. “He’ll be flattered when he sees you wearing this.”

I look at her smile in the mirror. She comes across so nice and thoughtful, but I haven’t forgotten. “Flattered?”

“Of course. He likes you, Fin.” She sounds serious, sincere.

“Uh huh.”

“I mean it.”

I run upstairs to drop off the mask and stall, one step into my room. Ethan is there, scribbling a note at my desk.

“Fin,” he says and sets down the pen. “Ford said you ran out, he thought you’d gone for a walk. I wasn’t sure I’d see you before tonight. I only came by to pick up Cress and to give you this.”

My Venetian mask, the one I thought I’d lost. “Somehow I took both when I left.” I cross over and touch it, relief flowing through me. “I thought you might like it for tonight.” He eyes the golden mask dangling in my other hand. “But it looks like you’ve found something else.”

He sets the mask on my desk and stands quickly. He angles his cap over the disappointment crossing his face.

“Wait,” I say softly. “I’ve been searching for that.” I’ve felt sick not finding it.

“It’s here.”

I lift the new mask and it twists on the ribbon. “Cress gave me this one. She and Ford were making masks yesterday.”

He lifts his gaze to mine. Hope twinkles there for a moment, then passes. “Guess you’d better wear that one then. Don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.”

“I wish you’d found me ten minutes ago. I’d have told her I didn’t need one.”

Ethan smiles. His words feel poignant. “You’re probably right to wear something new. Not cling on to things of the past.”

My stomach twists.

Yet he’s here, bringing me my mask, a twin to his. He had to be hoping I’d wear it.

He looks ready to flee. I don’t want him to.