“Not necessary,” Jasmine chirped. “I remember the way.”
She walked through the door and stepped into a haven of blooms. Bouquets of hyacinths, white roses, and blue violets abounded in every corner. Light from every open window illuminated sky-blue painted walls and high ceilings. Warm and welcoming, far from the coolness of her father’s mansion.
As she approached, laughter spilled from the breakfast room. Heart beating a nervous rhythm, she stepped closer. As she turned the corner, a brown-haired little girl wearing a pink dress ran from the room with a high-pitched series of giggles.
At her heels was Matthew. In two strides, he scooped her in his arms and said, “Not so fast, you little rascal.”
Dressed casually, he had gone without his top jacket. His rolled shirtsleeves gave her a generous view of his arms. His muscles flexed as he tossed the girl high in the air, then brought her down to rub his nose against hers.
And deep within Jasmine, a primallongingcried out for something she didn’t have a name for. This was the Matthew she remembered.Carefree and unguarded, his trademark grin tilted high on the right side of his face, showing brilliant white teeth. Not noticing her, he continued to tickle the girl, digging his fingers into her sides until the child burst with laughter. With her wild curls and grin, she looked just like him.
Wait.
She wasn’this—was she?
Oh, goodness! She hadn’t stopped to consider that he might bemarried, that he might have moved on! Even though Cassandra had seldom written about Matthew, she would have mentioned if he had achild…wouldn’t she?
“Who is that?”
The girl hid her face in Matthew’s shoulder, and his eyes shifted to meet Jasmine’s. Their gazes locked, and a thousand expressions crossed his face before he gave her a sweet, lazy smile. The longing sensation only sank deeper.
Was this what she could have had?
“Dear-one, this is Lady Jasmine. We’ve talked about her, remember? From the portrait?” Leaning his head against the girl’s, he asked, “Will you say hello?”
The girl peeked her head over Matthew’s shoulder to study Jasmine suspiciously before hiding her face again. “No!”
Matthew smiled apologetically and gave Jasmine a one-shoulder shrug. “She’s not normally shy. She’s tired.”
Jasmine paused, searching for the words before she blurted out, “Is she yours?”
Matthew smirked and kissed the top of the child’s head. “Her mother is just inside.”
Shewasintruding! Her face burned. If she had any sense at all, she would turn around, march right back where she came from and—
“Brother,” a feminine voice called from the breakfast room. “InviteJasmine inside.” Cassandra appeared at the door. “And give me my child.”
She was hisniece!
Of course! She wasRose, Cassandra’s daughter! Inexplicable relief flooded her at the thought, then pure exhilaration at seeing the woman in the doorway.
Jasmine launched herself into Cassandra’s open arms, pulling her in for a firm hug. Cassandra smelled of lavender and carried a domestic grace that Jasmine could never hope to emulate. Her curly brown hair broke free of her pins, but the rest of her was neat and well-manicured. In a powder-blue morning gown, shelookedmaternal. She was petite and slight like Caroline, but her face appeared rounder than Jasmine remembered.
“Oh, I’vemissedyou.” Cassandra started sniffling. “I thought I lost you forever.”
“I’m home, Cassandra.” Jasmine’s eyes misted, and she squeezed her tightly. “Be prepared to tire of me, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“Don’t squeeze too hard.” A man with black hair and vibrant blue eyes came forward. Seth Reeves, Cassandra’s husband. Dressed similarly to Matthew, his rolled sleeves showed aggressive scarring on his arms. An unfashionable—but impressive—beard covered his face.
“Don’t worry about Cassandra, she’s not so fragile.” Jasmine wiped her eyes. With a wink, she said, “I’ve toppled her to the ground before.”
“Don’t do it today, she’s fragile enough.” Seth took Rose from Matthew and placed her on the floor behind him. Arms free, he gave Jasmine a side-hug. “Welcome home. How was Spain?”
“She’s not telling anyone about Spain without me in the room!” Caroline appeared in the doorway. Her hair still had pearl powder in it from the night before. “Everyone can stop talking in the hallway andcome inside!”
Caroline grabbed Jasmine’s arm and hauled her into the dining room. The aroma of an English breakfast wafted from overflowing plates of eggs, ham, and sausage. Muffins and half-eaten scones covered in jam and cream smothered an oversized table. Wispy steam rose from the plethora of teacups and teapots.
“What about me?” A teenage boy with a mop of brown hair threw his arms around her. Jasmine grinned and returned the hug.
