Miss Bradshaw's Bought Betrothal. Virginia Heath

towards the hill. Whilst he admired her tenacity, her lofty plan was flawed. ‘It could take many weeks, months even, to find a house and complete the sale. Your aunt cannot stay all that time in an inn.’

      ‘My great-aunt is made of stern stuff, Lord Finnegan. We will do well enough whilst we wait. Besides, I would not send her back to Hyacinth. That woman is a nasty bully.’

      A nasty bully? The way she said it suggested she had been on the receiving end of such harsh treatment. A new knot of guilt was forming in Finn’s gut.

      ‘There is no need to send your aunt back to Hyacinth Whoever-She-Is.’ Good heavens, what was he saying? ‘And there is no need for either of you to go to the inn. Under the circumstances...’ Stop, man—before you say something that you know you will regret! ‘...and as we are to be brother and sister, I would prefer it if you stayed at Matlock House while you search for a new home.’

      Finn stared at the sky and cursed his parents for bringing him up to have good manners.

      She stopped walking and turned to face him. ‘I do not wish to inconvenience you, Lord Finnegan.’ But there was hope sparkling in those golden-flecked eyes again and he did not want to be the one to dash it.

      ‘It is not an inconvenience, madam. Just do not expect me to be a good-humoured host.’

      When she rushed at him and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek in gratitude, Finn had the overwhelming urge to respond in kind. Except it was not her cheek he wanted to kiss. Instead, he stood stiffly and hoped that the sale would go through more swiftly than any sale had ever gone through before. ‘I suppose we should head back.’ His voice sounded gruff and she disentangled her lush body from his. Instantly, he had the overwhelming desire to pull her back, but resisted.

      They set off up the hill and his brother’s fiancée could not stop smiling. And perhaps smiling was contagious because Finn felt the urge to smile back at her. Clearly doing good deeds warmed the heart and his cold, shrivelled heart felt inordinately pleased with itself.

      ‘Now that you are no longer a doormat, what will you do with your days?’

      ‘I intend to do whatever takes my particular fancy rather than Hyacinth’s. I am tired of being dragged around town while she makes endless calls on people who are always glad to see the back of us. I hate balls and parties and sitting with the wallflowers. So you see, Lord Finnegan, by contrast this place is paradise. I shall paint outdoors, sing folk songs loudly, wear unsuitable gowns...’

      ‘The one you are wearing is quite unsuitable enough. It does not fit and it is ugly.’

      ‘You are a very rude man, Lord Finnegan.’ But she was smiling as she said it.

      ‘Perhaps. Would you prefer me to lie to you with idle flattery? I assumed that the new and empowered Miss Bradshaw would have the gumption to insist on complete honesty.’

      ‘I do not have the right figure for gowns to fit properly.’

      ‘Any decent dressmaker could make you a gown that fits properly. That abomination is shapeless and far too capacious.’

      She stiffened in outrage but the faint blush that stained her cheeks was actually very becoming and certainly something that she should do more often. ‘More fabric is flattering to someone with a more generous figure!’

      Knowing full well what lay under all of those acres of stiff fabric, Finn was inclined to disagree. ‘Is that one of your awful stepmother’s pearls of wisdom?’

      She paused thoughtfully before answering. ‘Yes, it is! And as I am no longer a doormat, I should probably ignore all of her advice going forward. I shall find a new dressmaker as well as a new house.’

      ‘That’s the spirit.’ Her good mood was infectious. ‘Perhaps you should find a new fiancé while you are about it?’

      She simply grinned at that and chatted about everything and nothing all of the way home while she idly picked wild flowers that he wanted to weave into her hair.