The answer was so obvious that Elizabeth couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it sooner. “Take away the reward, and he will lose interest.” She sprang to her feet and wrapped her arms around her brother. “Oh, thank you, Charlie.”
He squirmed out of her embrace, but his high color told her he was secretly pleased.
Now all that remained was to convince Aunt Virginia.
Before dressing for the ball, Elizabeth approached her great-aunt. After frank discussion and a great deal of persuasion, Aunt Virginia agreed to her plan, though she would not sign over the inheritance until they learned how Mr. Finch reacted. Since Aunt now had business to address, she claimed a headache too severe to attend the evening’s festivities.
By the time the carriage arrived in front of the house, all had been set in place. Though the night was fair and overly warm, even with the persistent southeast breeze, Elizabeth donned her black silk mantle. The blue-gray ball gown would be too visible in the light of the full moon.
Father frowned when she walked into the foyer. “A wrap in this heat?”
“I wanted to wear something black out of respect for Mother.”
“Humph. At least you’re no longer using that as an excuse not to marry.”
He assisted her into the carriage but was less enthusiastic when she insisted Anabelle ride beside her rather than on the driver’s seat with Nathan. Anabelle’s presence forced Mr. Finch to sit across from Elizabeth, where she must endure his smug satisfaction but was free from his groping hands.
He also could not refrain from commenting on her mantle. “Do you expect a sudden chill? Surely the night air is not too cool.”
“One can never be too prepared. The winds might change.”
“Then allow me to carry it for you. I would not want you to feel the slightest discomfort.”
Elizabeth offered her thanks but demurred. She wanted every possible layer between them.
Anabelle kept her gaze averted, but Elizabeth couldn’t help wondering if the two men facing her saw the resemblance between them. If so, they said nothing. She breathed deeply. This course she had set in motion was the right one. Now all she needed was a moment alone with Mr. Finch.
The carriage slowed.
Father tapped his walking stick on the roof. “What’s the delay?”
Nathan leaned over and yelled down, “Line of carriages, sir.”
Father frowned. “I had hoped to make the announcement at once, before the orchestra strikes up and the dancing begins.”
“There will be time enough.” Elizabeth clutched her bag, feeling both Mother’s miniature and the gold brooch beneath the beaded silk. If all worked and she was able to leave with Rourke, that brooch could bring a handsome price to help them start wedded life. “Perhaps Mr. Finch might regale us with stories of growing up on a plantation. Cotton, was it?”
“Tobacco.”
“Ah, tobacco. Then you must partake of it?”
“Snuff, on occasion.”
That explained the foul odor when he had attempted to kiss her. Though her stomach churned, she must play the part of the eager fiancée. “Did your father always raise tobacco?”
Mr. Finch gave her a searching look. “Why all the questions?”
“Isn’t it common practice for a couple planning marriage to converse about their lives?” She had certainly talked to Rourke over the years. She knew he had three brothers and four sisters, all younger, and that his father had fished like his father before him. His mother not only kept the house but taught Bible stories to wee ones at their church. The stories of Rourke and his brothers taking the boat out at night to fish for sharks had thrilled her. His tales of diving wrecks terrified her. Within the past year his father had died. They shared similar loss.
Mr. Finch, however, had never mentioned his mother. She knew only that his father was a planter. Even now, he looked out the window rather than answer directly. “This is hardly the place, Elizabeth.”
“Agreed.” Father tapped his stick on the roof again. “I’m getting out. Maybe I can get those carriages ahead of us to move aside.”
Nathan hopped down from the driver’s seat and opened the door seconds before Father burst through it. Father was not a patient man, particularly when it came to small talk.
Elizabeth watched the door close, hardly able to believe her good fortune. The moment she needed had been handed to her by Father’s impatience. Now she must broach the matter in a way that seemed natural.
When Mr. Finch’s gaze returned to her, she offered a smile. “I’m glad for this moment alone.”
He glanced at Anabelle. “We are hardly alone.”
“My maid will always be with me. Did I tell you that Father has given me Anabelle as an engagement gift?” Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw Anabelle’s fingers twitch. “Isn’t that wonderful?”
Mr. Finch did not look pleased. “I’m only a legal clerk. My salary isn’t sufficient to support a houseful of servants.”