In her turmoil over her original reasons for assisting Eoin, Hannah had utterly forgotten that she no longer had a reasonto stay in his residence. Since she had discovered nothing about his aunts and uncles beyond their knowledge of Eoin’s mother, she should have been scrambling for excuses to stay. The fact that she hadn’t thought of strategizing was almost a relief. She evidently was not entirely mercenary. Unfortunately, her lack of foresight awoke a new sense of guilt. Was she abandoning her family’s pain to help heal Eoin’s?
His wounds were fresh, and although her father and uncle bore scars—both literal and figurative—the rawness had healed over. However, was even this rationale a sign of disloyalty to her family?
Ugh! It was a frightful mess.
“I suppose from your silence you do not wish…” Eoin’s nervousness was palpable, and his anxiousness broke Hannah out of her stupor.
“Oh no! That is not it at all. I was only trying to determine how long I can be away from the coffeehouse. I do not want to shift too much of the burden onto my cousins.” The excuse flew from Hannah’s mouth before she thought about its implications.
“Then you do wish to stay on for a bit more!” Eoin wrapped his large form around hers, enfolding her into his jubilation.
Bloody hell. She should leave for his sake. But she hated destroying his joy. Besides, she wanted to remain with Eoin, and not because of her investigation.
“Although I didn’t let on to Mother and Lizzie, I am not completely sanguine about facing the gossip when the ton realizes that I am the son of Championess Quick. Still, with you by my side, I’ll weather the rumors better. You’re always so practical, and I know you have no care for what the nobles say.”
Eoin was chattering—actually chattering—with excitement. Even his body vibrated with enthusiasm. Could Hannahrenege now? She needn’t stay for long—no more than a week or so. It would be best if she gave Eoin time to adjust to his new circumstances before she revealed the whole truth.
“It won’t be much of a strain on Sophia and Charlotte if I remain here a few days. We didn’t anticipate that we’d find your mother and sister so quickly.” Hannah paused, debating if she should say the next words. But then she made the fatal mistake of shifting in Eoin’s arms and meeting his gaze. The expectant hope in his sea-blue eyes undid her. “And I want to spend more time with you, Eoin, just as we are right now.”
Chapter Seventeen
Eoin had never experienced such joy. His mother and his sister had both openly embraced him. They hadn’t asked him to change. Instead, they were the ones willing to uproot their lives. And that… that helped heal hurts that Eoin had long since stopped recognizing.
Now Hannah was staying longer at his home, for no other reason than the fact that she wished to spend more time with him. The glory of that news blazed through Eoin, setting every inch of him ablaze with sweet fire.
Caught in the wonder of bliss, Eoin dipped his head to capture Hannah’s mouth with his. But just as his lips touched her soft ones, a terrible hissing arose from the ground.
“Ouch! Ouch!” Hannah pulled back and began to rub furiously at her ankles.
“What happened?” Eoin asked in bewildered concern. He glanced around the shadows, trying to locate what had caused Hannah’s distress. Then he heard it. The familiar chirping.
The gosling had found them.
Peering down, he saw an angry shadow darting around Hannah’s feet. Reaching for it, he captured the enraged fluff. He could feel some of the rougher juvenile feathers poking out from the down as its stubby wings beat against his knuckles.
“How did you get into the garden?” Eoin asked and then felt ridiculous.
At the sound of his voice, the bird settled and began to chirp happily. Eoin supposed he should be grateful that the creature wasn’t honking yet.
“Most likely, the gosling was bothering one of your aunts or uncles,” Hannah surmised. “I don’t think your servants would have tossed your pet into the wild.”
Eoin grunted. “The fowl is not my pet, and this garden is hardly wild.”
“Regardless of how you view it, the goose has most definitely adopted you as its mama.” Hannah nudged Eoin’s shoulder, which the baby bird did not appreciate in the least. The fluff extended its still relatively stubby neck, its useless wings bouncing furiously.
Eoin shot Hannah a withering look, which was probably lost in the darkness. Still, the expression made him feel better. “I am not the fowl’s mother.”
“I do believe that it is past time to name your baby. You cannot keep calling itthe fowl,” Hannah teased. “Isn’t that right, Little Bubbles?”
“I am not naming the bird Bubbles. That would be absurd.”
“Ah. But you will be giving it an appropriate appellation, then?”
“You hoodwinked me into that, didn’t you?” Eoin accused in exasperation.
Hannah laughed merrily. “Perhaps. But more importantly, what shall you choose?”
“Gosling? Goose?”
