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I was sitting on the bed, zipping up my boots, when she returned. The scarf she held out to me was black and gray with flecks of gold thread running throughout. She draped it expertly around my neck and spun me to face my reflection in the mirror.
“Lovely,” she said.
“But what will I do with my hair?”
“Allow me, dear. I’m a bit of an expert at making something of our hair.” I sat on a low bench near the end of the bed and let her deft and nimble fingers braid and twist my thick, glossy dark locks. When I turned back to the mirror, I sucked in a breath. She’d created the effect of a crown with a French braid that skimmed my hairline and swept back into an elegant twist at the nape of my neck.
“Auntie, you’re amazing,” I said, patting at my hair and not quite believing what I was seeing in the mirror.
“Well, all those faculty dinners gave me plenty of practice.” She patted her own short pixie cut. “Until I couldn’t take it anymore and chopped it all off into something more sensible for a woman my age.”
“Oh, Auntie.” I kissed her cheek. “Daddy may have got the height in the family, but you got all the beauty.”
She chuckled. “Good thing, too,” she said. “The last thing we needed was for your father to be tall, brilliant,andbeautiful.”
“You’re brilliant, too, Auntie. You just chose a different path.”
“Yes.” The smile fell from her face. “As you must choose yours, dear.”
The doorbell rang, and she smiled at me. “Ready?”
I nodded. Aunt Vivian gave my hands a squeeze and slipped out of my room. I grabbed my coat but left my hat and mittens behind. I’d suffer a bit from the cold, but I didn’t want to be reminded of Liam tonight. Then I shut off the light and followed Aunt Vivian down the hall to the top of the stairs. I could already hear Uncle Oscar’s voice in the foyer below, welcoming Nigel. I peeked over the railing and caught a glimpse of Nigel’s dark hair and breathed a sigh of relief when I noticed he’d traded his wool trousers for black jeans.
I crept down the stairs. Nigel looked up at me as I stepped onto the landing. He grinned, and I returned his smile.
“Ah, there you are, Evelyn,” my uncle said.
“Hello,” I said.
Nigel scrambled up the first few steps and offered me his hand to lead me down to the foyer. “You look lovely,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said. “So do you.” I lifted my jacket off the hook near the door and slid my arms into the sleeves.
“Well,” my uncle said, draping an arm around Aunt Vivian’s shoulders. “Your aunt and I have quite a bit of work to do. You two enjoy your evening.”
“Yes,” my aunt said. “Enjoy your evening.” She slipped her hand around my uncle’s waist and led him down the hall.
“Your aunt and uncle are rather nice.”
“Yes, I like them.”
“And their house is magnificent.” He looked around.
“I used to be so frightened of this house when I was a child. Everything seemed so big and scary.”
“Well, it is rather intimidating. It’s hard to believe they can live here, among all this history.”
“Oh, my uncle lives for the history.”
“Yes, he mentioned that. He’s a professor, then?”
I nodded.
“Well,” he said, “shall we?” He offered me his arm, and I hooked my hand around it.
We’d just shut the door behind us and stepped out into the entrance when the roar of an engine and a single headlight coming down the drive caught my attention. My heart raced. Liam. I bit my lip. Nigel hadn’t registered this as anything to be alarmed about, and he continued to escort me to his sleek black sports car.
Liam pulled up and stopped next to the car just as we’d reached the passenger door. He lifted his visor and looked from me to Nigel and back again.
