her and then remained hovering uncertainly in the doorway.
Innes quickly realized the reason for his hesitation. Hyacinth was a young lady, perhaps eighteen or nineteen years of age by now, and he was an unmarried man.
She smiled at his butler, handing him her coat, muff, and scarf. “No need to send in a maid to chaperone. I won’t be staying long.” She turned to Innes to show him a box in her hands. “I only came to give you these.”
“Have a seat, Miss Brayden. Do stay and share some tea and cakes with me. You must be cold. Your hair still has a light dusting of snow on it.”
He did not know what possessed him to reach out and lightly run his knuckles over her hair, the little of it that peeked out from under the hat she had not bothered to take off. Too bad, for he was curious to see more of her dark, vibrant curls. “I’ll escort you home in my carriage afterward. Do your parents still reside on Chipping Way?”
“Yes, still at Number One,” she said, her smile easily brightening the room. “Uncle John and Aunt Sophie are still at Number Three. Even Lady Dayne is still at Number Five. She’s quite infirm now, but as lovely and kind as ever. You ought to come by some time. My parents would be delighted to see you.”
He felt bad about not staying in closer contact with Romulus and Violet. In truth, Romulus Brayden had been like a second father to him. Violet had certainly been more of a mother to him than the manipulative witch his father had married. “Perhaps I will.”
Hyacinth frowned. “No, don’t put us off. There is no perhaps about it. Come to supper tomorrow evening.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “Is that a direct order? You always were a bossy bit of goods.”
She took his teasing with good nature. “Chide me as you wish, but we shall all be quite shattered if you do not accept.”
“Do you speak for your parents as well? Perhaps you ought to seek their permission before you make plans for them.”
“Perhaps you ought to stop telling me what to do.” She cast him an impertinent smile, reminding him how saucy she’d been even as a little girl. “My lord, I do not remember you ever being quite this stodgy. Indeed, you are far too young to be behaving like an old goat. My parents have always adored you. Why would you doubt they would love to see you?”
He felt a momentary pang of regret. “I haven’t kept in touch with them.”
“And you believe they are offended?” She rolled her eyes, another impertinent gesture that ought to have irritated him, but her eyes were too beautiful, and so was she. “Did you learn nothing about them in the years you were with us?”
He threw his hands up and laughingly shook his head. “Fine, I am properly admonished. And call me Innes. After all, I used to give you rides on my back around your house. You took exceptional delight in tugging on my hair.”
“Then you must call me Hyacinth. I used to pull on your ears, not your hair. Don’t you recall? A tug to the right ear to steer you to the right, or a tug on your left ear to steer you left. Sometimes I would tug on both at the same time just to confound you.”
Her smile left him breathless. “Very well, Hyacinth. Have a seat, and I shall pour you some tea.”
“You haven’t asked me what’s in the box I brought you.”
He waited for her to sit on one of the plump chairs beside the hearth, and then he took the one beside her. “What’s in the box, Hyacinth?” he asked, casually resting an arm on his thigh as he leaned toward her.
“It requires a bit of an explanation. Do you remember the Christmas when I was five years old? You must have been about fourteen or fifteen at the time.”
“I remember. We had decorated your house with mistletoe, boughs of holly, and cheerful red ribbons on Christmas eve. But I was unexpectedly summoned away and had to miss Christmas day.”
She nodded. “You never got your presents. We never saw you after that. I cried for days when I learned you’d been taken away from us. Well, that’s all in the past. We are in the present now. This is the gift I had wanted to give you back then. You were meant to