I took the stairs with grace, noting the oddity of being awake in a house that was still fast asleep. No sounds of Ginny’s harp or Tabs’s stomping foot and frustrated groaning.
I found Graham on the sofa, one arm loosely stretched along the back, his other hand grasping the armrest. His ankles crossed, legs hanging open comfortably as he sat in thought and waited for me. He’d brushed back his hair and wore a pressed brown jacket with tan breeches.
I’d stopped in the doorway. “Good morning.”
He startled, straightening. “There you are.” He rubbed his face with a hand, then smiled. “You look lovely.”
My heart flew into my throat. “Thank you,” I said, lifting a hand to brace myself against the doorframe.
We watched each other for a moment, then he stood, and stretched. “Are we ready?”
I nodded. “No chaperone?”
He took a few steps closer to me, clasping his hands behind his back. “If you’re agreeable. I am your host until your father returns, so a chaperone is not necessary. But if you are unsure, we could bring your maid ...”
“No, no. I am comfortable.”
He smiled, then motioned for me to lead the way.
The carriage awaited us, steps set at the ready for me toclimb. He gave me his hand, and I squeezed his fingers as I ascended. He followed, sitting opposite me.
A moment passed. Me, situating my skirts, while he tried out several different positions for his hands.
“The weather is fine,” he said at last, and I readily agreed.
“Hardly a cloud in the sky,” I added.
“Did you sleep well? ... After.” He squinted one eye, and I grinned at the silly look on his face.
“I did,” I said. “And you?”
“Well, I awoke with Tabitha’s arm choking my neck and the rest of her splayed out like a starfish in my bed, but there were no more visits from the dark monster of the sea, so ...” He shrugged.
“Thank heavens for that.” I leaned back and crossed my arms as the carriage swayed to and fro.
“You did not break your fast this morning.”
It was a statement, but I still heard the question beneath the words. “Mariah brought me a tray. I had some writing to do this morning.” I looked up at him through my lashes. Innocent, but provoking him nonetheless.
He squinted. “What sort of writing?”
I shrugged. “Just a few pages in my notebook.”
“Ah.” He looked out his window, his lips quirked in a near smile.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
I raised a curious brow. “What, Graham?”
His eyes flicked to mine, testing. “I would not ask about that notebook if you begged me. Not if you offered me a hundred pounds or the body of the dark monster of the sea.”
I looked heavenward, and he laughed. “No business, Anna. Not today.”
Did he think me daft? “Today is entirely about business. We have but one day left to—”
He cut in. “On the contrary. Today is about promenading and falling in love—”
