How to Charm a Lady – The Finnegan Way

Even though it is safe to say that Wentworth is the comic relief of this series, it is oftentimes the things that Aiden says that have me laughing the most. He’s just so uncaring and thoughtless in his speech, and most of his disdain is directed at women, leading me to wonder how it is he manages to find himself in the good graces of any of them.

But then, perhaps his attitude is his charm, so I gathered up a bunch of his words of wooing, but I don’t advise anyone to tuck them away as pickup lines. Someone might call the police.

“Do not mistake favoritism for friendship,” he snarled, tightening his grip, “you mean one thing to me.”

He scoffed, crossing his arms and leaning up against the wall. “You? I thought only I could make you tremble in fear.”

“I won’t save you. Should Xander choose to kill you, I will find another with your talents.”

“Are you ill, Miss?”

Luke nodded and Aiden let out a disgusted grunt. “Brilliant start to a new life as a delicate lady, don’t you think?”

Snapping her head up and forcing back a cry of pain, she glowered at him. “I have never been on a boat before,” she said testily.

“It’s a ship,” he corrected blandly.

“It will be easier to be rid of your fleas.”

“Curiosity is healthy.” She was gripping the edge of the ship now, leaning backwards, her heels the only things keeping her vertical. She really was a child.

“It kills cats, I hear,” he replied, with little emotion.

    “I have never considered myself a gentleman, Miss Avery.”

“I’ve half a mind to let you stay there,” he replied, checking his timepiece, “but fortunately for you, I am not permitted to leave you in dirty barns.”

    Luke grabbed the back of Aiden’s jacket and tugged hard, letting out a low hiss. “Are you on good terms with anyone?”

His reply was short and simple. “No.”

Aiden nodded, but dismissed her father quickly. “I wasn’t aware that you were literate.”

Offended, Luke’s eyebrows knit together as she frowned and spun around, giving him her back. “That is very rude,” she said, dipping the nib fiercely into the blotter.

“I am rarely polite,” he said offhandedly.

“People don’t marry for love, Miss Avery,” he said coldly, staring up at her

    “You trust me.”

She nodded and he lit another cigarette.

“Then I will be your undoing, Miss Avery.”

“Arrogance is in my blood,” he told her, “it’s the Finnegan way, you see.”

“You’d never be able to learn,” he said, moving to stand behind her. Without much thought, he leaned over, stretching his arms over her shoulders, and placing his large, weathered hands over her own petite ones, “Your hands are too small.”

Aiden noticed her discomfort and smiled. “Come now, Miss Avery. Do not tell me you’ve never been victim to a proper flogging.”

“Did you shoot your father?”

With one hand on the small of her back, he nudged her forward. He had no more use for this room.

“No, I poisoned him.”

“I had no brothers,” he replied, a flat fact. “and if you even so much as think to to hold me accountable for my sister’s death, I will splatter your insides down these stairs.”

Ah, what a ladies man.


About Frenchie Leigh

I am an avid writer of the romantically tragic, the fashionably brooding, and foolishly believing. Though my plot lines come to me through music, my writing style is most greatly influenced by my personal favourite authoresses: Julia Quinn and Eloisa James. View all posts by Frenchie Leigh

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