Page 45 of Miss Ashbury and the Anatomy of Mending a Heart

“I think our journey to London only intensified her love. Fed the flames, so to speak.”

Suddenly, Stephen’s knee bumped viciously into the bottom of the table, rattling the china.

He pointed. “Benjamin, remove him from the table at once.”

The boy’s chin jutted. “It’s Vera’s birthday; she’d want him at her party.”

Vera blinked. Trundling down the center of the table, amidst the low bowls of draping flowers, was Sheldon. The hedgehog paused to sniff a leaf of ivy, then turned up his little nose as if finding the selection lacking.

Vera rolled her lips between her teeth to keep from laughing. Her thoughts were on the scream she’d heard only that morning—and the deep satisfaction she’d had when she realized it was Stephen squealing. It was the best birthday present she’d received in years.

“Our guests—the ladies—certainly don’t want him on the table.” Stephen’s narrowed eyes were still focused on his little brother.

“Oh, Sheldon, you darling!” Candace gushed. “Have you come to celebrate Vera, too?”

Vera couldn’t help it—she laughed. She doubted Candace had meant to contradict Stephen so directly—it was far more likely she hadn’t heard him. When she glanced to her left, she was surprised to find Stephen staring at her, the expression on his face unreadable.

Though he didn’t look precisely angry, she frowned at him. She’d done nothing wrong; he could turn that mysterious gaze upon someone else.

Jacqueline stood from the head of the table and rescued Sheldon. The hedgehog had been heading in Adelaide’s direction, and Percy had a murderous glint in his eye. Percy had always been the protective sort, but it seemed having a little one on the way had stoked his instincts.

“Come along, Sheldon,” Jacqueline crooned. “Let’s get you back to your nest.”

Hamish stood. “Allow me to accompany you.”

Vera saw Percy’s eyebrows rise, saw his mouth open—to say something smart, no doubt—but Adelaide applied her elbow to his midsection sharply. He pursed his lips in her direction, his expression a strange mixture of peevishness and devotion.

“Lord Winthrop,” the Duke of Canterbury said. “How many creatures does your mother have now?”

“I’m not altogether certain, to be honest.” He gave a rueful smile. “Her collection has grown tremendously in my absence, and I’m somewhat frightened to ask.”

Chuckles around the table.

“The fox is his favorite,” Vera found herself saying. “He absolutely squeals for it.”

Vera felt, more than saw, Stephen turn his head toward her. She deprived him of her eyes and stared straight ahead.

“Is that so?” Adelaide said. “Is it quite tame?”

“So tame that it shares a bed with him,” Vera said quickly.

“And how would you know that?” Candace murmured, only loud enough for Vera to hear.

Vera turned to her friend, shocked, but Candace’s eyes twinkled in merriment. She waggled her eyebrows and Vera felt a reflexive blush heat her cheeks, though there was absolutely nothing of the sort going on between her and the baron.

“He more often sleeps with me,” Benjamin said, recovered in an instant from having Sheldon taken from the room.

“Does he?” Percy asked. “Does he hog the bedcovers like some people?”

Adelaide jabbed him once more, and everyone else pretended not to see it.

The man must have a constant bruise, Vera thought.

“No, he’s polite. Keeps to his own pillow.”

“That’s good, then,” Percy said, his eyes sliding toward his wife. Adelaide’s cheeks were ever-so-slightly flushed. “Some bedfellows snore and roll themselves into the covers so a gent can’t find the end of the blankets. Or so I’ve heard.”

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