Miss Davis’s mouth dropped open, but Ezekiel was far too amused to let the comment pass.“We can’t have that, can we?Maybe a prayer to help us along is in order?”
By the choked, incoherent sputter from Miss Davis, he probably should have stayed silent.Music, not charm, was the way to win her.
The elder woman’s attention swung away.She called out a name as she waved a hand, then begged Ezekiel’s pardon as she rushed off.
“What do you say, Miss Davis?We do make a delightful harmony.If we serenaded the world together on more than just Sundays, then perhaps the world would become as beautiful as you.”
She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth farthest from him tilted upward.
They reached the last pew, and her suppressed smile dropped.Her head swiveled to keep the pew in sight.All color fled from her face, and her breath came in fast bursts.He stepped closer and lifted an arm behind her back to catch her should she faint.If he thought she’d allow him, he’d have wrapped an arm around her for support.
What, or was it who, had spooked her?She’d mentioned Adler earlier, but Ezekiel had seen the man off from the hotel with the restof the opera company.Adler’s talk of restaurants in Chicago had eased Ezekiel’s mind that he still planned to leave Cincinnati.But that didn’t mean hehad.
Keeping Miss Davis in his periphery, he surveyed the back pew.The only occupant was a woman dressed in full mourning, thick veil and all.
Ezekiel dipped his head to whisper in Miss Davis’s ear.“Do you see the man whose presence shook you so?”
She snapped toward him, and their noses were so close any outsider might believe the illusion of a stolen intimate moment.“Who says I was shaken?”
He pulled back far enough to save her from gossip but still keep their conversation private.“Your trembling hand did.Now you look about to faint.”
A fighting spirit brought color to her cheeks and rigidity to her spine.Without giving the woman another glance, she marched into the noisy foyer.
Ezekiel dropped his arm but stayed close.Something was wrong, but obviously she didn’t trust him enough to voice the problem.
“What you saw was my imagination running away with my logic.”Her quiet admission startled him.“The man reminded me of someone I saw in a nightmare.”
“It must have been some nightmare to haunt you so violently during the day.”
“You have no idea.”She drew a deep breath, then swiftly changed the subject.Not that he could blame her.“When you told me you couldn’t sing Ottavio’s aria, I thought it was because you sang like a frog, but the problem is, you are a bass and not a tenor.”
“It is my one serious flaw in life.”He winked so she knew he joked.
“I don’t think it a flaw, though you do have plenty of others.”She didn’t say it, but he could see the accusation of Don Giovanni flitting through her mind.“I should have guessed you were a bass singer.Your speaking voice is low enough.”She cast him a sidelong glanceand seemed to debate her words.“I confess, I tend to prefer a bass voice.Its timbre is so rich and powerful.”
“Are you finally saying you prefer me, Miss Davis?”
“Finally?It’s been a mere five days since our introduction.”
“Maybe our formal introduction, but it’s been four months in my eyes.Am I to take your avoidance of a direct answer as confirmation?”
She strode toward the vestibule’s doors and harrumphed.“You’re incorrigible.”
“And yet your answer is—”
“Nora!Mr.Beaumont, wait for us!”Miss Pelton raced toward them, then slid her arm through Miss Davis’s.“Abraham and his family have invited you both for lunch.That gives him the chance to get to know you”—she looked at Ezekiel—“and me the chance to gather ideas for my next romance novel.”
“Lydia!”Miss Davis actually scowled at her friend.“Neither Mr.Beaumont nor I should be your inspiration for anything so ridiculous as a dime novel.”
“I’m not opposed to it.”Being the hero of a novel sounded intriguing, especially if Miss Davis was to be the heroine.“I like the idea of testing ideas for winning my Donna Anna.”
Miss Davis threw her arms up.“You’rebothincorrigible.”She stalked outside, her face clearly expressing her aggravation despite her lips not moving.
“I believe that is the longest I’ve seen Miss Davis without that expressionless mask she dons so often.”
Lydia clapped her hands.“That means she’s growing more comfortable with you, whether she’ll admit it or not.”
“Thank you.I needed that encouragement.”He watched Miss Davis’s retreating back.If he didn’t follow, she’d slip away and likely not to Detective Hall’s.He started down the steps.
