Her posture seemed to relax slightly as she returned her attention to the trinkets. “Unfortunately, I like all of them. I have been trying to make up my mind.” She bit her lower lip.
“An impossible choice, to be sure.” I picked up a locket, opening the clasp to reveal a miniature seascape inside. Beside the lockets was a row of sea-themed writing sets, coral earrings, and miniature wood carved ships.
“For one of your sisters here in Brighton?” Miss Kellaway asked as she observed my scrutiny of the locket.
I met her gaze, noticing once again just how blue her eyes were. The freckles dotting her cheekbones were endearing, as was her curious expression. “No. I am shopping for the most special young woman in my life,” I said with a sideways smile. I knew the assumptions she would make, but for some reason I was eager to see her reaction. Teasing Miss Kellaway was nearly impossible to avoid. I couldn’t help myself.
Her gaze flickered away as she picked up a shell-covered snuff case. “Your wife, I suppose?”
I waited a few seconds, snapping the locket closed. “No. At present, I am without a wife.”
“Oh? Then who is this special young lady?” She opened the snuff case, avoiding my gaze with obvious determination.
I set down the locket, examining a few of the other items. “My sister Margaret, who was unable to accompany us toBrighton. I thought she might like a small gift from our travels. Unfortunately, I am at a loss. I can’t determine which of these items she would like most, if any at all.”
Miss Kellaway nodded in understanding, a thoughtful look entering her gaze. “A dilemma, indeed. Did you not bring something in from the stand outside?” She nodded toward the counter where the fan was wrapped and waiting for me. “It looked like a fan.”
“It was a fan, yes.” I gave a stiff nod. I could never tell her that I had only brought it inside to cover myself for being caught staring at her. “But I’m still not certain my sister will like it.”
Miss Kellaway glanced behind her shoulder at her mother before walking to my side of the display. As she stepped up beside me, I caught the scent of lavender with a hint of citrus. “I do not know Margaret, but perhaps I can help you. As a woman, I may offer some insight.” She smiled up at me, and I found myself agreeing instantly with a nod. As hesitant as I was to call any young, single woman genuine, I felt that Miss Kellaway was truly interested in helping me. And she seemed quite capable of the task.
“What does Margaret do in her spare time?”
The question caught me off guard. I would have to find suitable answers without revealing too much about my sister. “She enjoys art. She also enjoys books.”
“Does she wear jewelry?”
Hmm. I had never noticed before. Margaret didn’t have a reason to wear it, so I shook my head. “She doesn’t care for it.”
Miss Kellaway scoured the display, circling the entire thing before returning to my side. I couldn’t hide my amusement at her studious demeanor. She took her task seriously. As soon as her gaze met mine again, I corrected my expression to something stoic like hers.
“You could choose one of these small art pieces of the seascape, or one of the books about Brighton’s wildlife. However, I have a much better idea.” Her lips twisted upward. “The perfect gift would be something you make yourself.” She tucked a curl behind her ear as she tipped her head up to look at me. “Women appreciate thoughtfulness. If Margaret was, as you said, unable to accompany you to Brighton, then perhaps she won’t be satisfied with a painting from a stranger on a small square of canvas. A painting from you, no matter how novice, would mean far more to her.”
A slow grin tugged on my mouth. “Are you assuming I’m a novice?”
A hint of pink touched her cheeks, but she still smiled. “It is a safe assumption. Very few people of my acquaintance could be called anything else.”
I laughed. “Perhaps I can prove you wrong.”
She pressed her lips together, her eyes all skepticism and lacking a shred of mercy. “You may try.”
Before I had a chance to respond, she whirled around, picking up a blank diary with a tan leather cover inscribed withBrighton, 1819.“If the painting turns out unsightly, you might instead create a book of your own to give to Margaret. You could document all your experiences here, gather shells to glue to the cover, and collect flowers and herbs to press between the pages.”
I laughed under my breath and stepped closer. I plucked the diary out of her hand. “You have a talent for this, Miss Kellaway.”
She seemed to be suppressing a wider smile, but I wished she wouldn’t. She had a lovely smile. “I hope Margaret enjoys the gifts,” she said.
I lowered my voice and leaned closer. “Even if they are unsightly.”
“Which they are likely to be.” She nodded without hesitation. “But it is not the grandeur of a gift that truly matters. It is the intent. The effort.”
I groaned. “You will see, Miss Kellaway. This will be the most beautiful painting and book you have ever had the pleasure of looking upon in your entire life.”
She grinned. “If you say so.”
A laugh of disbelief escaped my chest. It was clear to me now that she was teasing. She was lighting a fire of determination inside me to give Margaret the best gift possible. And it was working. Not only did I want Margaret to be pleased, but Miss Kellaway as well. But only so she would be proven wrong—I wasn’t actually eager to impress her.No. That sort of thinking went against my character. I refused to be controlled by my own heart ever again. A desire to impress was the first sign of attraction, so I needed to do all I could to keep myself in check.
I studied her smiling face for too long, and I sensed my defenses prickling into place.
