They sat in their private parlor, dining on a luncheon of ham, crusty bread, a bowl of fresh strawberries, and some excellent Yorkshire Wensleydale cheese. The rain maintained a steady patter against the windows. Though the weather cast a dreary pall, a cheery fire in the hearth brightened the room.
Or perhaps that brightness came from Ethan himself, Allie mused. Even on a rain-soaked day such as this, hours spent with him felt like basking in sunlight.
In many ways, theirs was similar to how her relationship had once been with Kendall—thoughts aligned and opinions flowing freely.
A soul twin, in truth.
But with the added benefit of maturity and euphoric attraction to a man who was most decidedlynother brother.
Ethan remained in shirtsleeves and a green waistcoat, his gray coat draped over the back of a nearby chair. The closer she sat to him, the more she noticed the scent of his cologne—sandalwood and something tantalizingly earthy, like a pine-laden forest. Most deliciously, despite the slight chill in the air, he had cuffed his sleeves, revealing a decadent six inches of muscled forearm.
Allie had spent years in the company of brigands, not to mention nearly a decade before that as a citizen of Venice with its abundance of Renaissance paintings and sculpture.
In short, she was no stranger to the male form in various states ofdishabille.
But those few inches of Ethan Penn-Leith’s skin, combined with the heady scent of his cologne, set her head to spinning. Every time his hand lifted to punctuate a point or reach for a slice of cheese, the tendons in his forearm stretched and rippled beneath his skin. Did wielding a pen sculpt such muscle?
“You said there are few you call a friend,” she said, forcibly dragging her eyes away from that hint of skin. “So, I wonder . . . who are your true friends?”
Raising an eyebrow, he paused to look at her. “Och, jealous already, are ye?”
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late.” Winking at her, he smoothed a hand down his waistcoat. “A braw Scotcanbe hard for the lasses tae resist.”
“Ethan.” Allie’s voice held a warning note, though she fought a laugh.
Uffa.
She could scarcely remember indulging in levity before Ethan Penn-Leith. It was as if her life before meeting him had been shrouded in gloom, a bleakness she hadn’t noticed until the bright light of Ethan’s cheerfulness had shined upon it.
This was the problem, she decided. That despite her misgivings and repeated self-chastisement, it was easy to succumb to the relentless pull of Ethan’s warmth.
Could she find the will to resist him? Or to be more precise—could she summon the motivation to care about resisting him?
Pushing back his lunch plate, Ethan’s expression turned more serious. “I wasn’t exaggerating when I said my circle of friends is rather wee. When all of London claims tae know yourself, ye choose those whom yewillcall friend carefully.”
“I’m flattered.”
“As well ye should be, lass,” he said with another small teasing glance. “I ken my brother and sister are my closest friends. Ye might even meet them, once we arrive at Muirford House.”
Allie experienced a jolt of surprise. “They live near Lord Hadley’s estate?”
“Aye. ’Tis why Kendall felt it logical for me tae accompany yourselves to Muirford House. I am merely returning home. Hadley has been the local lord and benefactor all my life.”
“And do you call Hadley friend?”
“After a sort. He is more of a fatherly figure than anything else.”
A fatherly figure? But what about Ethan’s real father?
Abruptly, Allie felt voracious to learn everything about Ethan. About the world that had formed him—the very first pen he set to paper, the lullabies his mother might have sung to him. Perhaps attending the house party wouldn’t be such a chore, after all. Not if it gave her a glimpse into Ethan’s life and family.
“Tell me about your brother and sister,” she said. “Tell me about your family.”
“Malcolm and Leah?” A different sort of grin touched Ethan’s lips. One she hadn’t seen before.Thissmile was a soft, tender affair.
She could see him looking down at his swaddled, newborn child with that precise expression.
