A mother with her babe sat at a table. The birdlike peep sounded like Noah, how he greeted me early in the morning when I returned from a commission.
My heart whimpered.
I’d hug the murderous Moomoo if the calf made sounds like that boy . . . my boy.
Noah was with Patience, and I knew my sister would be loving to him. He probably didn’t miss me.
Knowing he was well cared for, that should keep me cheered, but I had to fan my eyes.
Helena would be happy that her sisters were together again. Even with all the doubts I had about me and mothering, I knew I didn’t want to lose Noah or the bond we shared.
I’d promised to raise my nephew, but Patience had a house and a loving husband. Well, I sort of had those too, but I chose to abandon them.
Felton’s London residence wouldn’t be lonely if I had Enna and my boy.
Watson approached. His mantle was unbuttoned. His shoulders sagged. He looked very tired. “Ma’am. Lord Gantry wishes you to dine with him in the private room upstairs.”
“Private?” I loved the sound of that, but I smelled like the baby cow.
All the noises around me boomed in a slowed dance.Boom—banging pots.Boom—crying and shrieking.Boom—mooing.Boom boom—voices talking. Talk. Talk. Talk.
Grasping his arm, I leaned into him. “Where’s Lord Gantry?”
“Ma’am, it will be alright. He’s up the stairs on the left. Have a pleasant meal while I finish arrangements for the lodgings. We slowed our carriage to follow the stage. His lordship wanted to be assured that it wouldn’t tip over and fall by the wayside.” He offered one of those it-will-be-better smiles with a little serves-you-right-stubborn-woman tossed in, then pointed again to the steps, bowed, and went outside.
To sit in quiet, without a cow eating my coat, over a nice dinner with a respectful man sounded like heaven.
The stairs creaked as I took them by twos. After a quick knock, I let myself inside.
The scent of seasoned beefsteak with garlic filled the air. My mouth pooled with drool.
Brows lifting, Felton waved me to a seat. “I hope you haven’t come to tell me you’re opposed to eating together too? I thought we agreed on dinner.” He waved his fork with a cut of the juicy beef. “That would be a shame.”
Oh, the scent of the thick brown gravy had my stomach dancing, but my ears rejoiced at the calm. One could barely hear the crowd below. “A truce can be had if you can forgive me for smelling like a barn.”
Nose wriggling, he came to me and pulled out the chair. “Your perfume is special tonight. Not the smell of lavender or tea roses. And goodness, your poor coat, the color . . . what were those purple flowers?”
“Jacaranda. It sort of smells like it now, thanks to my cow.”
“You own a cow? Another secret venture.”
Shoving my hands through the holes, I wriggled my fingers. “Payment for a new coat.”
“Enterprising.” He slid the ruined velvet from my shoulders. “This is a shame. I remember—”
My fingers went to his lips. “Can we sit and not say a word for a few? My ears ring from the chatter.”
With a kiss to my thumb, he folded my coat, crisp on the seams like he did all his clothes, and laid it over a chair.
His hair was loose and flipped to the side as he tilted his head. The next I knew, he’d embraced me and gentled my back.
Tired, I didn’t resist and collapsed against him. His fingers where at the base of my neck, pressing and easing the tense muscles.
To be honest, if he laid me out on this table and kept me warm and away from noise and Moomoo, I’d be his.
“Cecilia, are you alright?”
“Mmm.” My arms wound about his waist and I held him so tight I couldn’t see the light, just his onyx waistcoat.
