leaping to her feet with an exultant shout at the thought that Mr. Finch desired her. Not her money or position or all the other mercenary motives of the past, but because she made him happy.
“…the lady in question makes him happier than he thought possible and gives him reasons to smile when the world wishes him to weep…” Those scant words were worth more than the volumes of verse that spoke of love.
And it was as she reveled in this newfound joy that Felicity realized what Mr. Finch was truly saying. Yet again, her fortune was standing in the way of her finding matrimonial bliss, but this time it was her apparent lack of one.
Felicity’s eyes slid closed, and she shook her head, leaning forward to rub her forehead as the weight of her lie pressed down on her. Good heavens, what had she done? Even as she tried to think her way through this mess of a situation, Aunt Imogene’s voice taunted her, saying this was all of her own making, which was true but exceptionally unhelpful at present.
There was no way to maintain her dignity and keep Mr. Finch, and though her heart shuddered against admitting the truth, if it was between her pride and love, there was no contest. And though habit warned her to keep silent on the matter, Felicity couldn’t—not with his tender and earnest declaration warming her heart.
“Mr. Finch, I feel like a fool,” she whispered, straightening and turning in her seat to look at him. “As much as I wish I had not made such a mess of things, the truth is that I did, and the only way to remedy the situation is to speak the truth.”
The gentleman watched her with a puzzled look, and Felicity sucked in a deep breath, letting it and a rush of words out in one gust. “I am not a companion to Aunt Imogene and do not need to earn my living. My uncle left me a sizeable inheritance.”
Mr. Finch stilled, his expression slackening as he stared at her.
Taking another fortifying breath, Felicity continued, “I came to Bristow to escape the attentions of fortune hunters, and when I met you, I didn’t expect us to become friends…” She lingered on that word, for it did not do justice to their relationship, yet it was the only word she could think of to describe it. “I wanted to avoid all that bother about money and inheritances, so I lied about my situation. I am so terribly sorry, Mr. Finch—”
“You are not a companion?” Neither his tone nor his expression gave any hint as to his feelings on the subject.
“I am not,” she said. “I do hope you can forgive me—”
*
Finch was on his feet before he realized what was happening, and Miss Barrows followed, babbling things he couldn’t follow as his disheveled wits attempted to make sense of this development. Mina stumbled over her notes, and though it was usually she who blushed, Finch felt a flush coloring his cheeks as he and Miss Barrows drew the attention of the others.
“Have I ever told you the history of this painting?” asked Lady Lovell, motioning towards a dramatic depiction of a man astride a horse. With Simon’s assistance, she rose to her feet and ushered him and his wife to that side of the drawing room, which was as far from Finch and Miss Barrows as they could manage. With overly loud words, the older lady began a recitation of the history of the Lovell family while gesturing at the painting.
And Finch was left to stand there like the mute fool he was.
He’d spent far too many years with an intimate knowledge of the fickleness of fate to trust a sudden show of good fortune; Finch had long ago learned that the proverbial horse was more likely to trample than bestow gifts. And such a revelation certainly counted as providential.
“You are not a companion?” he echoed the question, and though the lady smiled and gave him all sorts of reassurances, Finch struggled to realign his previous worldview with the reality that lay before him.
Miss Barrows was an heiress.
Marrying for money held no appeal for Finch. Though he may have entertained mercenary fantasies as a very young man, they’d faded and vanished in quick succession. Of course, they were helped along by the fact that he had no enticements to secure an heiress, but the thought of approaching matrimony like a business venture sickened him.
And so, marriage had