Page 59 of Four Promises to Love

Seventeen

“Are you certain there is nothing else I can get for you?” Xenia asked.

“Yes. You have done enough already.” Realizing she sounded ungrateful, Finn added hastily, “I am already intruding upon your hospitality. I was fine to return to Pell House. If that physician hadn’t⁠—”

“You fainted, my dear. Even if Dr. Poole hadn’t insisted you stay the night, I would have.”

Finn was discovering that beneath her hostess’s sweet nature lay a core of steel. After the strange episode this afternoon—everyone insisted she had fainted, but she had no recollection of doing so—Xenia had taken charge. She’d sent the Hawks home, and Owen had carried Finn—which was both unnecessary and embarrassing—to a guest bedchamber. He’d hovered until Gigi and Evie shooed him away. Then the ladies proceeded to fuss over Finn, feeding her a light supper of consommé and toast before changing her into one of Xenia’s nightgowns. Finally, they’d tucked her into bed and promised to return in the morning.

Finn didn’t know what to make of all this kindness. It was overwhelming. Except for Iris, no one had looked after her before. What made it worse was that her benefactors were her marks. She felt like the Trojan horse being rolled into the heart of the manor. The unintentional ruse didn’t make her feel clever or triumphant.

Instead, she felt the rusty prick of her conscience.

“Are the pillows sufficient?” Xenia lingered. “I could have more brought up⁠—”

“There are more than enough.” Finn eyed the mound of feathery pillows behind her. “Truly.”

“I want you to be comfortable. And, well, I also wish to apologize.”

“For what?”

To Finn’s surprise, Xenia perched next to her on the bed, the way Iris or Nell might have done.

“I should have told you about the room behind the fireplace,” Xenia said. “About how I discovered it through my visions of Rose.”

When Finn had come to, she’d found herself lying on the sofa in the library, Owen by her side. His family had hovered like anxious butterflies, and even the Hawks had seemed apprehensive, uncertain whether swooning had been part of her plan.

It wasn’t. I had a vision—a real one.

She could no longer stave off the truth. Somehow her scheme had turned into reality: she was channeling spirits—channeling Rose. The realization stunned and terrified her. What had triggered her sudden ability? Did she have any control over it? Why was Rose contacting her, of all people? She wasn’t a helpful, caring, kindhearted female like Xenia, Gigi, and Evie. She didn’t care about ending the curse: she was a sharpster who was using false pretenses to find a treasure.

Shame entered the fray of her emotions as she registered Xenia’s penitent expression. Crikey, the lady had nothing to apologize for. In fact, Finn wanted to tell her that she was wise to keep secrets from a stranger.

Instead, Finn asked, “Why didn’t you? Tell me, I mean.”

“Evie, Gigi, and I promised our husbands that we would keep certain details to ourselves.” Xenia sighed. “The men said that the only way they could be convinced of your ability was if you were to uncover facts about Rose on your own. They said we shouldn’t tip you off—that charlatans would use such information to fool unsuspecting people.”

“That is sound advice—” Finn caught herself. “It is important not to distort the medium’s vision with preconceived notions.”

“Evie, Gigi, and I wouldn’t wish to prejudice you.” Xenia’s smile was relieved. “At any rate, we were confident that your ability would shine through, and it did. We were wondering, however…”

“Yes?”

“In your vision, did you see who you were running from?”

Upon reviving, Finn had shared what she remembered of the dream: the terror and urgent need to hide from whoever was chasing her.

“No. But whoever he was, he was a monster.”

She couldn’t quell a shudder.

“My poor dear. I don’t mean to distress you⁠—”

“No, it’s good to talk about it. To know that…that others have shared my experience.”

She’d once believed that the ladies’ visions of Rose had been due to their impressionable natures. Now she was humbled by her arrogance and desperately glad to realize that she was in good company and not going mad.

“If it helps, my vision was similar to yours,” Xenia said. “It came to me during a time of distress. Unbeknownst to Ethan and me, a gang called the Corrigans had been using the manor to stash stolen goods. A female cutthroat came to find the trove and tried to capture me to discover its location. When she was nearly upon me, Rose guided me to the room behind the fireplace. There, I found a safe place to hide—and the jewels as well.”