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“On the contrary,” she interceded, finding herself charmed by his adorably chagrined expression. “I’m sure my sister will love them. To the best of my knowledge, she doesn’t have any. Decorative spoons, that is. Can you eat with them?”
Ezra removed the box from his pocket. Turned it over in his hand. “Do you know, I haven’t the faintest idea.”
“Regardless, it was thoughtful of you. To bring her a present.”
He looked down, and too late she saw that she was touching his forearm.
She snatched her hand away.
“Would you, um, care for a tour of Clarenmore Park?”
His eyes gleamed as they swept across her. “I’d love one.”
She showed him everyplace that there were other people, but dared not lead him anywhere they would be alone. Not because she didn’t trust him, but because she didn’t trust herself, and for good reason. She’d already shown–twice–that she was unable to exhibit self-control when it came to Ezra and she didn’t want to fail a third time, at a dinner party, of all places.
As they strolled from room to room, admiring the Christmas decorations, she was pleased to discover that he was an easy conversationalist. In quick order, they discussed a myriad of topics, from the weather, to the New Year, to recently finished Suez Canal.
Unfortunately, that particular subject matter made her think of James, and before she quite knew what she was doing, she’d told Ezra all about her brother even though she and her sisters had agreed not to share with anyone that James had, for all intents and purposes, disappeared.
“You’ve hired a detective?” Ezra helped himself to a shrimp from a passing tray and popped the appetizer into his mouth.
“Several,” she sighed. “None of them have come up with any leads. It’s like he just…vanished.”
“Or he doesn’t want to be found,” Ezra mused, chasing the shrimp with a swallow of champagne.
Her temple creased. “Why would you say that?”
“I’ve met your brother. I don’t remember where, but the when of it was a few years ago. There maybe have been brandy involved.” He slid her a roguish grin that made her heart do a slow, lazy spin inside her chest. “There’s usually brandy involved. James struck me as an intelligent, self-sufficient young man with a thirst for adventure, even then.”
“He’d never abandon us,” she said quickly. “James was–Jamesis–devoted to his family.”
“Then he’ll come back,” Ezra said matter-of-factly, and Annabel frowned.
“Just like that? How can you be so certain?”
“Because if I was separated from you,” he said, his gray eyes piercing straight through her natural defenses, “there is no amount of time or distance that would keep me away indefinitely. I would always find my way back to you, Annabel. Your brother will, too.”
Her mouth opened. Closed. No sound came out. Before she could form a reply, a bell rang, indicating that it was time for everyone to gather in the dining room.
Throughout the lengthy meal, she kept stealing glances at Ezra out of the corner of her eye. Every time she looked at him, she found that he was looking at her, until it became somewhat of a game that kept them entertained all the way through to dessert.
After dinner was dancing, and then the men departed to the terrace for cigars while the women gathered in the parlor for gossip. But instead of joining their respective genders, Ezra and Annabel found each other in the music room…and her breath caught in her throat when he quietly closed the door.
“Your sister liked the spoons,” he said, watching her like a wolf might watch its next meal.
“I told you that she would.” Needing something for her hands to do other than grab onto Ezra’s chest, she went to the pianoforte, sat down, and ran her fingers across the ivory keys in a simple melody that she had memorized by heart. “Lenora is strict, but not unfair. And she likes you.”
“Do you?” He came to her on silent feet and propped his elbow on the top of the pianoforte, a curl tumbling across his brow when he canted his head to the side. “Do you like me, Annabel?”
“I…I don’tdislikeyou,” she said cautiously.
One side of his mouth curved. “That’s a start. We haven’t known each other very long, you and I.”
“Hardly any time at all,” she agreed.
“I’m madly in love with you.”
Her index finger banged off the C-sharp. “You–you–you–”
