Page 21 of The Gods Time Forgot
Twenty-One
The following Friday, Finn slipped out of the Harrington household before he could lay eyes on Rua. He hadn’t seen Annette since the opening night of the opera and thought it best not to arrive to her birthday party in the same transport as Rua and potentially instigate a situation in which Annette felt it necessary to expose the trick she and Lily had played on her.
Things were going well, and he wanted to keep it that way.
But deep down he knew that wasn’t the only reason he wanted to travel without her. A part of him clung to the version of himself that could still have everything this city had to offer, if he would only propose to Annette. He could do a world of good in this city with the Fitzgeralds’ connections and a strong reputation. It was hard to let go of that dream, one he had chased for so long.
But as he thought about life without Rua, he couldn’t imagine it. Christ, he had even paid a member of the Whyos to take the blame for a murder she committed, such was the depth of his desires.
“Donore.” Richard raised a brow, greeting him inside the entryway. “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.” His way of saying he’d noticed Finn’s distance as of late.
Annette was standing next to her father. “Happy birthday, Miss Fitzgerald. You are looking splendid, as always.”
By all standards, Annette was very pretty—ideal, even. She looked every bit the part of an aristocratic wife. Perhaps it was the illumination under the sparkling candlelit chandeliers, but now he saw her for who she truly was: a vapid brat.
“I am so pleased you could join us, my lord,” Annette gushed.
“I would be honored to request a dance,” Finn said, more out of duty than of want. “But first, might I have a word?”
She looked excitedly toward her mother and father, who nodded their approval.
They were a few paces away from the parlor room. Dozens of eyes were peeking over decorated fans; mothers were whispering in their daughters’ ears. They were at dinner, and he was the main course.
He brought her to a quiet corner away from prying eyes.
“I was so worried you wouldn’t come,” Annette started. “I haven’t seen you in quite some time.” Because he was spending his free time with Rua.
Getting right to it, he said, “I need your word that you will not mention the prank you and Miss Stevens played on Emma Harrington to anyone.”
“Why?” Her eyes narrowed.
“Because it is the decent thing to do,” he warned.
Annette raised a brow, and it was then he realized he had misjudged the way this conversation was going to go.
“My lord, did my father tell you about the visitor we had earlier in the week?”
Finn didn’t like the sharpness in her tone. “Of course he did not tell me, Miss Fitzgerald.”
“Well, it was a reporter from the Daily News .” Finn’s stomach tightened as he remembered the columnist they had mentioned in regard to their prank. “He thought my father might be interested in what he learned.”
Bloody hell. He knew what she was going to say before she said it.
“Apparently, there was a murder on Greene Street some weeks back,” Annette said, feigning surprise. “Now, the reporter did not witness the murder, but”—she grinned, looking up at him—“it just so happens to be the same address we sent darling Emma Harrington. I daresay the conjecture alone would be enough for an arrest.”
“Make your point,” he growled, glancing around the room at the guests laughing and drinking, wondering how he could have ever wanted any part in it. They were despicable, every last one of them.
“You have embarrassed me long enough. Declare your intentions, announce our engagement, and this remains our little secret.”
Finn scoffed. The chit was blackmailing a proposal out of him.
“Do we have an understanding, my lord?” Annette asked, impervious to his anger.
He could not speak, so ready was his rage to spill over. To think he had ever thought them worthy of his time. Richard was behind this, he was sure of it. He scanned the room, searching for the bastard.
“I’ll need an answer, my lord.” Annette’s voice faltered. “I believe the reporter will be covering the party tonight.”
Finn looked back at her, showering her with contempt. Cornered into a marriage. He couldn’t believe it. “It will be an engagement in name only,” he said darkly.
Annette flinched but nodded. She’d gotten what she wanted.
“I’m warning you,” he said, “not a word of this gets out. Do you swear it?”
“Why do you care what happens to her?” she dared ask him.
His eyes grew wild. He knew his reasons, and they were none of Annette’s concern.
“I need you to swear it,” he said, hardly able to look at his betrothed, the hateful young woman who’d forced his hand, who’d torn him away from the one he truly wanted.
The realization hit him hard. He’d wasted so much time avoiding his feelings, and now it was too late.
“Yes, I swear it!” she screeched, too immature to hide her glee. Too self-absorbed to understand the depths of his disdain. “One more thing, my lord.”
He was at his limit with her petulant demands. Distraught for the life he could never have with Rua. A life he hadn’t even known he wanted until it was ripped away. Losing even the possibility of her was gut wrenching, and he’d never forgive the Fitzgeralds for taking it from him.
“You cannot tell her about the conditions of our arrangement,” she said, smugly.
He bent his head down so that his eyes were level with hers. “And how the hell would you know if I did?”
Tears welled in her eyes. He didn’t care.
She hadn’t cared when she’d allowed her jealousy to alter the entire course of his life. If she wanted to play with the adults, then she’d better learn fast.
Leaving a whimpering Annette in the corner, Finn swiped a drink off the refreshment table and headed toward the veranda. How the hell had this all gone to shit? He took a sip of his drink. Had his affection for Rua been so obvious that he’d allowed himself to be cajoled into a marriage? He shook his head and leaned against the banister.
And where was she now, his harbinger of turmoil? He faced the ballroom, hoping for a glimpse, but stopped himself. He would have to move on. There was no other choice. Everyone would be better for it.
He took another sip of his drink, dreading the thought of returning indoors, but return he did. After all, there was an engagement to announce.
By now, most of the guests had arrived and were trickling into the ballroom. In no mood for pleasantries, he disregarded all who greeted him as he made his way back inside the foyer.
He spotted Annette by the front door with her mother. Through the angry haze, he reminded himself that a union to Annette was what he had wanted. He had to be practical—he used to be practical. This was the union that would open this city’s doors to him and bring him the success he sought.
And yet here he was, the world at his feet, and he was watching the door with unbridled anticipation. Waiting for the one woman who had not arrived and could offer him nothing but scandal. A woman who had been lost to him the moment he laid eyes on her.
He tore his eyes away.
Finn thought back to the dream he’d had last night after leaving Rua.
The three women gathered below him, bloodied and jovial after wreaking their havoc. He remained unseen upon the cliff above the hellmouth.
The raven-haired monster, the one who’d come to him earlier, was washing the blood from her face. The cruelest of the three. He wondered what she’d destroy next.
Hate burned in his veins. They were the enemy to end all enemies.
The second sister, a brown-haired woman, sat upon a rock, braiding her hair.
He glanced up at the sky. The moon was almost at its peak.
He’d lost sight of the third, redheaded monster. Perhaps the cursed water they were so keen on bathing in had finally devoured her, doing his job for him.
Finn refocused his attentions on the people in the room around him, so far removed from the thoughts rattling around in his head. It was impossible to reconcile those memories with the life he had now.
The similarities between Rua and the redheaded monster from his dreams were chilling. Once again, he thought of the laborer’s warning about the cursed waters and the first man Rua was supposed to have killed. It had happened near a hell cave. He almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.
A collective gasp filled the room, followed by a rush of murmurs. He didn’t need to turn his head to know that Rua had arrived.
Somehow, he could feel her presence. Like the pull of a tether, he was drawn to her. And deep in the very fibers of his soul, he knew she had laid claim to him long ago.
As he turned to look at her, he found there were no words appropriate to describe her. Larger than life, she was an ethereal goddess. A vision cut from ancient Italian stone.
Her gown was a subtle shade of green satin that matched her eyes perfectly. The bodice appeared as though it were sewn onto her body. The neckline, sinfully low, exposed the curve of her breasts, which were instrumental in supporting the colossal diamond necklace that dangled from her neck.
The sight of her made his chest tighten, knowing they were over before they ever began. To think they’d spent every morning since the opera in a state of wide-eyed indulgence, enjoying breakfast and each other’s company. Even Flossie had laid off a bit. He’d given in, set down his walls, allowing himself to believe it could work.
He didn’t know how to tell her that it was over, that he was leaving her to pick up the pieces.
He wished to whisk her away to another world and show her all the ways he might adore her.
“Shall we move to the ballroom?” Mrs. Fitzgerald addressed the room, ripping Finn from his reverie, reminding him of what he had lost.
Annette moved through the crowd and grabbed hold of his arm. With no other choice, he escorted her to the ballroom.
“Try not to look so terrifying, my lord. People might think you are opposed to this match,” Annette whispered with a smile as they crossed through the foyer.
“But I am opposed to this match,” he said, devoid of all emotion. He looked down at her, seeing that she was altogether too plain for his tastes. He didn’t know how he had ever thought otherwise. No matter how hard she might try, she didn’t have Rua’s natural albeit fiery charm.
When they had all gathered in the ballroom, Richard stood atop a dais to address the room. “It is time we let the birthday girl and her charming suitor share the first dance.” Finn wanted nothing more than to pummel him.
Richard responded to Finn’s glare with a wink.
Finn extended his arm to Annette, hating that Richard was pulling strings behind his back. Any chance for an amicable arrangement had gone out the window the moment they threatened Rua.
Annette was oblivious to his thoughts as they ambled toward the dance floor. She cared only that everyone saw her with the Lord of Donore.
His mind went to Rua and what she might be thinking. He pushed down the rising lump. It could no longer be his concern.
Not a word was uttered during the dance. Annette would rue the day she set her sights on him. From this day forward, he would offer her nothing but cold indifference.
He looked around the room at the other dancers, at the crowd watching them, forcing himself not to search for Rua. All the faces he met were smiling, no doubt discussing what a lovely pair they’d make. His stomach turned at the thought.
At the conclusion of their dance, Finn returned Annette to her mother. Gloria offered him a smile, which he did not reciprocate. He wondered how much she knew. Had Annette had the chance to fill her in and let her know their coercion had gone swimmingly? That they had deduced the lord’s affections for Rua correctly and now had him up against a wall?
“Might you fetch me some lemonade?” Annette asked sweetly as one of her friends approached. She flashed him a warning look.
“Of course,” he said, already tired of the charade.
He leaned idly against the table, forgetting about Annette’s drink as he scanned the ballroom for Rua. How did he even begin to tell her the predicament they were now in?
“Looking for me, Finn?”
He turned around, pulse hammering.
“Hardly,” he lied, because he was always looking for her. In every room, at every party, and all the places in between.
She was gloriously exquisite and fast approaching. He could not keep his eyes from appreciating every bit of her.
“I couldn’t help but notice you looking forlorn,” she said, wetting the corner of her lips with a flick of her tongue.
His eyes captured the movement.
She moved closer, her gloved arm reaching toward him. His heart beat faster as he imagined sliding the fabric off her hand, one delicate finger at a time. And the way her body might shiver if his mouth left slow, purposeful kisses from the tips of those fingers to the nape of her neck.
He’d never wanted someone more. Her scent alone was driving him mad. If she took one more step toward him, their bodies would touch and there’d be no saving them then. There’d be no time for decorum. He’d abandon it all just to taste her lips one last time.
He was balancing on the edge of madness and exultation. One wrong move and he would slip.
But then Rua slid past him, taking with her a glass of champagne and the last of his pride. He could not mask his own foolish deflation. She’d bloody baited him, and he’d fallen for it.
“Don’t look so disappointed, my lord.” She turned back with a smirk. “Apparently, I’m not your type after all.”
She was talking about his dance with Annette. His heart ached as he thought of how much had changed in the space of an hour.
Unaware of their impending destruction, Rua pulled at his restraint as she tipped her head back to take a sip of champagne. All he could do was wonder what sound she would make if his mouth kissed the space where her jaw met her ear.
He adjusted his waistcoat, wondering when he would be free to breathe again.
She smiled at him, placing the empty flute on a passing server’s tray. “You know, my lord, I think this was one of the best conversations we’ve ever had. You were quite amenable.” She winked and walked away.
He gripped the edge of the table, trying to comprehend what he’d just endured. Never in his life had he been so handily stripped of the ability to speak.
“I thought we had this squared away?”
Finn turned to find Richard watching from the other side of the table.
“You’re a foul bastard,” Finn said, stepping up to Richard.
“Mind yourself, Donore. If you want to keep your pet safe, you’ll keep that temper of yours in check.”
He knew nothing of Finn’s temper. Before he could respond, Ned approached.
“I hope my daughter’s not troubling you too much, my lord,” Ned said.
Troubling wasn’t the word he’d use.
“The new contracts have arrived,” Ned said to both him and Richard, but Finn didn’t know what contracts he was referring to.
“Very good,” Richard said, grabbing Ned’s shoulders, “very good. You’ve done the right thing. Let’s discuss this in my study.”
Ned nodded, looking grave.
Richard turned to Finn. “Why don’t you go and give my daughter her lemonade, hmm?” he said with a dismissive nod. “Come join us after.”
“I should think my involvement necessary if you’re discussing contracts,” Finn snapped.
“I assure you, Donore, it’s not.” Richard didn’t wait for a response and guided Ned out of the ballroom.
Finn was fuming, but what was he going to do about it other than exactly what Richard said to do? It wasn’t enough for him to force the marriage; he had to let Finn know he could still destroy Rua if he wanted to.