Just then, a bug buzzed by her ear. She swatted at it. It bounced off her hand and then landed on the bodice of her dress. “Finn,” she warned.
“What?”
She pointed toward the bug, which was as big as Finn’s watch fob. “There’s a bug on me.”
Finn’s eyes met hers, and they were full of amusement. “It’s just a little, tiny bug,” he chided. “It won’t eat much.”
“Finn,” she warned. Claire had a healthy respect for bugs, but bugs did not like faeries. They resided with mutual respect most days, but this one was crossing the line by actually landing on her person.
“Hold on, I’ll get it.” Finn took aim with his fingers the way one might with a billiard cue, preparing to thump it away. But right when Finn flicked it, it jumped. Claire heaved a sigh of relief. At least it was gone.
Then buzzing began in her hair. “Claire,” Finn warned, reaching for her hair. “Be still,” he warned. But Claire was already flipping over, trying to shake the beast out of her curls. “Claire, stop,” he cajoled. “If you’ll be still, I’ll get it.”
But Claire couldn’t be still. A creature with at least six legs was burrowing in her hair, and it wasn’t happy at all with its location, if the amount of noise it was making was any indication.
Pins from Claire’s hair flew in every direction as she tried to dislodge the beast. Finally, Finn riffled through her hair long enough to get his fingers on it. “I have it,” he said. “Now be still so I can untangle it.” He chuckled. “Who would have thought you could knock the Earl of Mayden to his knees but an insect could get you this worked up.” He began to untangle the bug, strand by strand of hair.
Finally, he said, “I got it. It’s free.”
But then something hard and heavy as a coin hit her breast. “See, it’s out of your hair,” he said. But now it was in her décolletage. It slipped and slithered and writhed its way between her breasts, looking for shelter. Claire screamed. She couldn’t help it. She screamed.
“Would you be quiet, Claire?” Finn hissed. “Someone will call the watch.”
Claire jumped up and down, hoping she could shake the bug from the top of her dress, but she could actually see its body moving beneath her clothing. “Get it, Finn,” she cried.
Finn reached a hand into her bodice. “Pardon me, I’m not trying to cup your breast,” he grunted as his fingers did just that. He lifted her left breast with one hand while the other grabbed for the bug. He growled and tugged at her gown, pulling it lower so he could get his hand farther inside.
“Finn, please,” she urged. The bug was going lower and lower, and it would be in her drawers if it traveled much farther.
“I got it,” he finally said. He held it up in one hand and gloated, while his other hand was still stuffed inside her bodice, cupping her breast. “See, Claire, I got it. Nothing to worry about.”
A gasp rang out behind them on the garden path. Finn closed his eyes tightly and turned her so that her body was shielded by his. “Tell me that’s not your father,” he moaned.
Claire looked over his shoulder. “It’s my father,” she whispered. “And the duke. And Marcus.” She thumped the bug from his outstretched fingers. The creature could go burn in hell for all she cared, their unspoken treaty be damned.
“What’s going on out here?” Claire’s father asked. “Claire, are you all right?”
“Lord Phineas was just helping me retrieve a bug that was bound to do me harm.”
***
If Claire could have seen what she looked like in that moment, she would have been mortified. She looked like she’d been well and truly tumbled. Her hair was a riot of curls, and her pins lay scattered on the path around them. Her cheeks were rosy as a newborn baby.
And his hand was still cupping her breast. “Bloody hell,” he grunted. “This isn’t what it looks like, my lord,” Finn called over his shoulder. “She had a bug down her dress, and I helped to fish it out.”
“I’ll have a word with you in my study, Lord Phineas,” Claire’s father said.
Finn looked down at his hand, which still held Claire’s breast. He let it go and jerked her bodice back up. Her mother and sister came forward and shooed her down the opposite end of the garden path.
Finn fell into step behind Lord Ramsdale. He should be damn happy no one had punched him yet. But there was still time. Finn ran back to Claire and kissed her forehead quickly. “I’ll take care of everything,” he assured her. He would. But would she be happy with the way he did it?
***
Robin accompanied them to Lord Ramsdale’s study, and for that Finn was grateful. Both Marcus and his lordship looked like they were just waiting to get him to a quiet place so they could beat him to a bloody pulp.
When the door was finally shut, Lord Ramsdale glared at him.
Finn steeled his jaw. “Did you want to hit me, Lord Ramsdale?” he asked. “I deserve it.”