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Abram enjoyed his days with Orris. Now that he was on the mend, he’d returned to the Dove, for fear he would not be able to resist the call to Orris’s bedside.

Though his days were full as he arranged the transport of Rowan’s and Dahl’s bodies, and received care for the wounded hand he had thought would never be useful again—a matter he had been wrong about, thankfully, based on what his physician shared—he could scarcely keep his mind off her. Even while he slept, his mind painted pictures of her, from her smile to the curve of her breasts. It was maddening. And what he missed most was holding her in his arms.

They shared snatches of intimacy, when others weren’t looking and the briefest of moments when no one was in the room with them, but he wanted more. He wanted it all. He understood keenly the reason for societal rules against unchaperoned visits, because his love and longing urged him to take her, to have her in every possible way.

He arrived at Gray Manor in time to catch Samuel, who was already dressed in his finest evening attire. They had grown to become friends over those last few days, and Abram had begun to look at him as the brother he should have had.

“Samuel, you are looking well, my friend,” he said, walking through the wrought-iron gate to greet him.

Samuel turned around, his smile light and happy. “I am but a mere urchin in comparison to you. I see my tailor has made himself useful.” He held out a hand to shake.

Abram did feel rather sharp in the green waistcoat, his plaid sash cutting a swath through the fleur-de-lis embroidery of his jacket. Abram grasped his hand and pulled him into a half hug. “What are you doing out here?” Abram asked.

Samuel winced, pointing up at the arrangements hanging from the edges of the porches. “My duties are never done. I am ensuring that the flowers are even. Mama had Dorchester out all morning overseeing their installation, but now he and all the servants are working on the interior. She sent me out once more to just be sure,” he said, affecting a persuasive mimicking of her voice.

Abram chuckled then stared up at the arrangements. “They look fine to me.”

“Perfect. I shall tell her the family’s artist agrees with the placement,” Samuel said, charging up the stairs.

“Do not dare. If she hates it, she shall blame me,” he said, chasing his soon-to-be brother-in-law into the house.

“It is too late. I have your word.”

Samuel had been right. The manor had been transformed into the Midnight Summer Garden theme Mama Seraphine desired. There were two fountains spilling water from cherubs into a waiting pool. The floral arrangements were in the deepest purples of lilacs, wisteria, and hydrangea. Ivy lined the walls as if it had been grown there, then on up the winding staircase.

“Do close your mouth, Abram. You should not want a fly to land in it, would you?” Mama Seraphine’s voice cut through his bewilderment.

“There she is. The most beautiful mama in all of London,” he said.

Samuel chortled. “You artists are all a menace.”

“Excuse me, Viscount. You do not have the eye for beauty that our Abram has,” she scolded before returning her attention to Abram. “Did you see the floral arrangements on the porch?”

“Well—” Abram started, only to be cut off by Samuel.

“Yes, and he has agreed they are perfect,” he said.

Abram shifted on his feet, “I said—”

“You said they looked fine. A glowing appraisal, if I say so myself.”

“I think you just did,” Abram said, clapping the man on his shoulder.

“Oh, never you mind,” said Mama Seraphine, waving them away. “I am off to see the ballroom. I am concerned that someone may have placed mums in the centerpieces. I told Mr. Daniels, the florist, under no circumstances should I see mums. Please, you two stay out of the gin and do not smoke too many cigars. The house will smell like those gambling dens you two are so fond of.” She spun off in her silver-and-emerald gown.

“Did we just get chastised?” Abram pressed his hand over his chest.

“I should think so. Come. I have whiskey. She did not warn us off that, now did she?”

The pair of them spent the last hour before the start of the ball playing billiards in the game room and lamenting over the chores of being the only two men in the house. Lately, the ladies had them handling all sorts of things, and Abram was sure it’d been to get the men out of their hair.

But Abram did find time to provide one more gift to his new family.

“Samuel, before the guests arrive, I have something to unveil. I shall have Boris bring it inside. He has been helping me prepare for our trip to Ireland and I had him bring it over.”

“Well, it had better not be anything to get me any drunker. Mama Seraphine will have my head in a mount,” Samuel said, getting himself up from the leather chairs they had been lounging on and dusting off his coat.

“Come now. We are her favorites, clearly. I should not want to ruin that before I am even accepted into the family.”