Page 62 of The Lady Needs a Rogue
“She decided we should dress as a pirate and his wench. Other than the bandana and the sword at my hip, I looked as I do every night at this place.” He glanced down at his black trousers and shirt. “And I forced myself to mutter the words ‘Avast ye mateys’ a few times. But Amelia played the wench with the flair of a natural-born actress. Bloody hell, she was lovely.” Logan grinned at the memory. “I suspect that was the night our babe—” With a shake of his head, he broke off the statement before he said too much.
“I doubt the ball will prove as memorable for me,” Finn spoke the truth. “But for different reasons. With any luck, the night will prove a bore.”
“I’d say that’s unlikely given the company ye’re keeping.”
“I suspect ye’re right. But I’m not here for advice. I need information,” Finn said. “If ye’ve got it.”
Logan’s brow furrowed. “What do ye need?”
“This afternoon, a stranger approached Macie outside of Bennington Manor. He gave the name Hiram Neville and claimed to have known her grandfather.”
“Hiram Neville? I’ve heard the name.” Logan leaned back in his leather wing chair. “But not in this place.”
Seated across from Logan, Finn reached for his mug and took a drink. “What do ye know about him?”
“Amelia was having a tea last week with some of her library patrons. One of the women is an active supporter of one of the museums. I recall hearing the name. An upstanding citizen, or so the lady said. Evidently, he’s one of the museum’s most generous donors. What business do ye have with him?”
“That doesn’t sound like the same bloke who took it upon himself to threaten Macie this afternoon. But if it is, I’ll be paying him a visit if he shows his face to her again.”
Logan’s brow furrowed. “What in blazes did the man do?”
“He wants to get his hands on her grandfather’s library and possibly the house.” Finn stretched out his legs, letting out a low breath. “He’ll have to go through me first.”
Logan took a drink, regarding him with a cryptic look. Finally, he said, “Ye’re taking the role of protector seriously, aren’t ye, my friend?”
“I gave Jon my word I’d watch over her.”
“Ye’ll honor yer word. Ye always do.” Logan nodded his understanding. “Ye care about her, don’t ye?”
“Ye could say that,” Finn said coolly. “She’s a lady and deserves to be treated like one.”
“The lass is clever. Full of spirit.” Logan regarded him for a long moment, as if he’d seen the truth behind Finn’s bland words. “She could challenge a man like ye.”
“A woman like Macie could challenge any man. She’s a bloody original.”
“She’s a diamond. Ye know that, don’t ye?”
Finn stared down at the ale in his stein, stalling for time. Logan’s question had caught him off guard. “That she is. There’s no denying it. And that’s where I come in—it’s my job to discourage the heiress hunters who treat her like a prize to be won.”
“Ah, the noble nobs.” Logan smiled. “Amelia was quite amused by Macie’s description of the fortune hunters intent on courting her.”
“She’s held them off all this time.” Finn stared down at his drink. “A man would have to be a blasted fool to fall for Macie Mason.”
“Does that include ye, cousin?”
Finn shot him a scowl. “Ye’ve better odds of seeing the queen dance the can-can at Covent Garden than of seeing me lose my head over a woman. Not that it would make a blasted bit of difference if I did. The lass wants a diversion, nothing more. I’m a decoy she can use to run off the money-hungry blokes desperate enough to put up a chase.”
Logan leaned back in his chair and scratched his chin, as he often did when he was pondering a matter. “Ye’re sure of that?”
“Macie and I are like fire and ice. We’re too bloody different.”
“That’s where ye’re wrong.” Logan slowly shook his head. “From what I’ve seen of Miss Mason, yer natures are very much alike.”
“What in blazes do ye mean by that?”
Logan shrugged. “Ye’ll see. In due time. But that’s not why ye came here tonight. Ye want me find out what I can about Neville. I’ll see what Amelia can gather from her friends while we keep alert for any talk of the man around the bar.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Finn said, toying with one of the chess pieces on Logan’s desk. The knight. Fitting indeed, given the way he felt like he was clanking around in rusty armor, all too eager to play defender to his queen.
