“My thoughts exactly,” Edmund murmured in her ear, “but he wouldn’t be swayed.”
She appeared dumbfounded, unable to think what to say.
“Did we do well, Edmund?” Ethan asked.
“I believe the ladies were pleased with your purchase,” his brother responded.
“His?” Flo asked.
“The same. This is the gentleman entitled to your time and attention, Lady Flora, but he will most likely not take the opportunity to dance at this evening's ball. I think you best have your meal and conversation some place warm.”
“Yes, and quickly please. We have bespoken a private parlor at Farley’s hotel,” his father added, smiling kindly. “Your brother will come to accompany you home to change for the ball in two hours, and this young man—” he glanced pointedly at Ethan “—will go home where he belongs.”
As Edmund helped her up, he said, “You might encourage my brother to wrap back up before his lungs take a relapse,” he said. He handed the basket he bought up to Ethan.
To Ethan’s pleased surprise, his father rose and stepped down to stand by his older son. “Well, Edmund, do you suppose there are still more of these lovely baskets to be had? Shall we go check?”
Flora’s gaze flitted between the men’s departing backs and the carriage, noticing Martha’s familiar face peering shyly back over a warm cloak and shawl for the first time. She shot Ethan a frown. “An open carriage and my maid for propriety? The Alcott gentlemen have arranged everything neatly among themselves. With my brother’s help, I suspect.” She took a place on the forward-facing seat next to Ethan, taking the basket and handing it to Martha.
He grinned shamelessly, feeling smug. “We did—rather well I think.”
The carriage lunged forward. “And I can see I have no excuse not to let you take me where you will,” she sighed, coloring adorably.
When Ethan continued to grin like a fool, she pursed her lips primly. “Your scarf,” she said, indicating the garment in question with a graceful gesture.
He obligingly covered his mouth. His “Thank you for obliging me,” came muffled through the cashmere.
“Apparently, you are my mystery purchaser. I’m obliged, am I not?”
Obliged.It wasn’t at all what he wanted. His heart sank. “I won’t hold you to this part of the bargain if you prefer to return to your friends.”
“No, I—” she tossed about for something to say, and blurted out, “How could you manage the outrageous sum you paid us?”
The smile he couldn’t quite shake deepened when the roses in Flora’s cheeks intensified at her own boldness.
“I’m not a poor man, Lady Flora,” he told her.Far from it.“Though given how you found me, you are justified in thinking so.”
“Flo.”
His brows shot up, unable to respond.
“Nothing about this entire afternoon has been decorous—not much in our entire acquaintance come that. You may as well call me Flo, Ethan.” She held his gaze, chin high, daring him to nay-say her.
“Flora, I think.”My Flora.“It suits you better. Flo doesn’t convey your beautiful essence.”
Her rigid posture relaxed, and the tenderness in her eyes drove his growing attraction to the edge of his control. He fought the urge to take her in his arms in the midst of the Frost Fair, watching maid and onlookers be damned. He wrapped his good hand tightly around his other elbow, while their eyes held, the sounds and smells of the fair receded, and the landau continued toward the edge of the ice so slowly it almost felt like no movement at all, reinforcing his sense of a moment out of time.
The noise of hawking vendors penetrated when they turned a corner, bringing him back to his senses, and he relaxed his arms.
“I’m not a poor man, Flora,” he repeated. “My brother has been banking and investing my funds during the years I was gone. The tidy sum is a pleasant surprise. It may enable me to begin that business you set me to.”
“What business?”
“Thinking about the other men. Doing the good I can do, rather than worrying about the things I can’t fix.”
Her luscious lips widened into a broad smile.
“You brought me back, Flora. Not just from the streets. Your words brought me home.”
