Finch let him speak, giving Dunn a moment to crow over his victory: it would make his defeat all the sweeter for it.
“I gather you are a fellow gentleman of great desires and limited means,” said Dunn. “So, you understand this is nothing personal, but I do have a prior claim on her. What will it take for you to clear the field? I will make certain you get it once Miss Barrows and I are wed.”
Giving a tight smile, Finch finally spoke. “The lady wishes you gone. As you refuse to honor that, I am here to force the issue.”
The fellow let out a bellowing laugh, and Finch held onto his tight smile, meeting Dunn’s smug look with narrowed eyes.
“You have some gall, Mr. Finch,” said Dunn with a shake of his head. “Threats? You hardly look like the sort to grapple in the inn yard.”
“I assure you my time in the army taught me more than enough. And I will admit that I am quite tempted to follow George Barrows’ example and simply hire a few strong lads to assist me with a more direct means of persuasion. A few weeks in your sickbed might give you time to reassess this foolhardy course of action.”
A frisson of pleasure ran down Finch’s spine as Dunn’s complexion paled. The fellow made a good show of remaining unaltered, but there was no ignoring the flash of panic in his eyes. No doubt, he was thinking about George Barrows’ efforts on his niece’s behalf, and Finch gave Dunn a moment to recall each agonizing detail.
Fiddling with the cup before him, Finch gave Dunn a genuine smile, for there was nothing feigned about the joy he felt about his brilliance.
“But as much as I admire that fellow’s thoroughness,” said Finch, lingering on that word and all the pain it entailed, “I decided on a different approach.”
Finch shifted forward, leaning his elbow on the table as he held Dunn’s gaze. “You see, I possess knowledge and experience George Barrows did not. I am like you in that I am a younger son who is struggling to make his way in a costly world with little income. Though I never borrow a farthing, I know many of our kind do, and I am familiar with the moneylenders they frequent.”
Straightening, Finch gave Dunn a false look of confusion. “Imagine my surprise when I wrote to some of my colleagues in London and discovered just how many debts you’ve amassed during your hunt for a well-dowered wife.”
With a shake of his head, he leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “Mr. Bartlet seemed especially keen to speak with you. I must say it’s quite bold of you to seduce the daughter of your moneylender.”
Dunn stilled, his eyes widening. “So you mean to tell them where I am if I do not leave Miss Barrows alone?”
Finch’s smile widened, his laugh echoing Dunn’s earlier one. “I did not come here to threaten you. I came to warn you. By my calculations, the earliest they could’ve arrived was this morning, and as you are still intact, you have an important decision to make: cut all ties with Miss Barrows and run or suffer at their hands. And you can be certain I told them of your fondness for Plymouth, so do not think to follow her home.”
Dunn sat in stunned silence for only a moment before he leapt from his seat and ran to his room, calling to the innkeeper for a horse.
With a wide smile, Finch leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. A shadow of disappointment flitted across his contentment at the realization that his plan had worked without any need for fists. For Miss Barrows’ sake, it was better this way, and the abject panic in Dunn’s eyes filled Finch with warm satisfaction, but he had to admit that George Barrows’ more violent approach to punishing cads had its appeal. Miss Barrows deserved retribution.
His friend.
That was such an interesting word. Friend. A truth and a lie all wrapped in one, for Miss Barrows was one of his truest and dearest friends, though his feelings expanded far past such a small word. It made him long for and loathe London. As much as Miss Barrows seemed to believe they could maintain a friendship even after they parted ways, Finch didn’t think it likely. And he couldn’t help but wish for the distance, for being with her was a beautiful agony that brought him both joy and pain.