Page 112 of Four Promises to Love

As everyone remained frozen in silence, Owen cleared his throat.

“Good morning,” he said. “Mama and Papa, I would like to introduce my fiancée, Miss Seraphina Kidd.”

“As we are to be family, Miss Kidd, do tell us more about yourself,” the Marchioness of Blackwood said pleasantly.

Finn looked up from the dizzying array of silverware, from which she’d been trying to pick the correct fork. To celebrate the arrival of the Harrington patriarch and matriarch, Xenia had arranged a formal luncheon. The Hawks would love the food, but they were enjoying it elsewhere—the lucky bastards.

As for Finn, she had barely eaten a bite. Her stomach was in knots. She didn’t know how she’d ended up in this impossible situation—well, actually, she did.

She narrowed her eyes at Owen, who was seated across the table from her. He was partially hidden by an epergne filled with flowers and fruit, but he caught her look. He raised his brows and gave a slight shrug—as if his high-handed declaration of their betrothal had been a perfectly natural thing to do. He’d said as much during their brief exchange after being caught in flagrante by his esteemed parents.

“What else would you have me do, Finn?” he’d asked as he’d yanked on his trousers.

“I don’t know, but not that,” she’d cried.

“Your reputation and my honor are at stake. It is the right thing to do.”

Before she could argue, he’d pulled her close.

“More importantly, it is what I want to do,” he said steadily. “I love you, Finn, and you told me you love me. We made love. When you gave me the gift of your virginity last night, I told you I would be your first and last lover. What did you think I meant by that, if not marriage?”

Her heart had thumped with desperate longing. “You cannot marry me⁠—”

“I can and I will. I know you are concerned about my parents, but I assure you they are ecstatic that I am following in the family tradition of marrying for love. Once they get to know you, they will adore you.” He’d kissed her hand. “But let us not tempt fate by making them wait.”

Realizing that Lady Blackwood was awaiting a reply now, Finn said hastily, “There is not much to say, my lady. I am no one of import.”

“As you are the lady to whom my son has pledged his future, I must disagree. I would like to get to know you better, my dear. Where does your family hail from?”

Although the marchioness’s manner was gracious, Finn sensed the underlying steel. The lady was the height of sophistication in her lilac gown dripping with lace, but she was no society nitwit. Her violet eyes were sharper than the knife the butler was using to carve a joint on the sideboard. Finn’s instincts told her that Owen’s mama would sniff out a lie, and the best tactic was to stick as close to the truth as possible.

“I have no family. I am an orphan.”

She lifted her chin; let these bluebloods judge her.

“You know nothing of your family, then?”

“Nothing. All I have of them is this pendant.” Refusing to be embarrassed, Finn brushed her fingertips over her talisman. “It was in the basket with me when I was left at the orphanage.”

She braced herself for condescension—or worse yet, pity.

“Then that pendant must be special indeed.”

Oddly, Finn sensed no mockery in Lady Blackwood’s smile.

“As you are, my dear, for surviving such difficult beginnings,” the lady went on. “I understand more than you realize. Now tell me, when did you realize you could communicate with spirits?”

“Mama,” Owen said in a warning tone. “Pray do not subject my betrothed to an inquisition.”

“Nonsense, dear boy. Finn and I are merely getting acquainted, aren’t we?”

Finn considered her responses and picked the safest one. “Yes, my lady.”

“Finn has exceptional talents,” Gigi chimed in from across the table. “Due to her efforts, we are closer than ever to breaking the curse.”

Finn sent silent thanks to Gigi for diverting the flow of conversation. As the latter apprised her parents of the latest developments, Finn was struck by the closeness of the Harrington clan. She’d always thought of aristocrats as aloof, superior, and ruled by civility. Yet this family related to one another with casual affection, teasing, and humor. With a flash of understanding, she recognized that Owen’s siblings hadn’t found their happy marriages by accident: they were following in the footsteps of their parents.

Lord Blackwood was a stoic fellow with a military bearing. Yet his love for his lady was obvious, as was the pride in his steel-blue eyes as he regarded his family. When his gaze crossed with Finn’s, he did not look away. Whereas the marchioness’s gleaming social polish made her more difficult to read, the marquess made no effort to conceal his opinion.