open it on Christmas morning. What happened, Innes? Why did you never visit our home again?”
He ran a hand roughly through his hair. “My family. Petty jealousies. You know I was sent away.”
“But you could have come back to us once you were older and independent. Oh, I know you remained in the Royal Navy and were often on assignment at sea. But not always. Why did you never stop by to see us?”
He was surprised by the sadness in her voice. “Too many years had passed by the time I was able, Hyacinth. I was no longer that young, hopeful boy.”
“We would have welcomed you even if you appeared bedraggled on our doorstep twenty years from now.”
“I know.” He poured her a cup of tea and set a slice of ginger cake on a plate for her. “My dropping out of sight had nothing to do with your family. I wasn’t good company then. I’m not very good company now.”
She took a sip of her tea and set the cup back down while peering at him with determination. “We shall have to change that.”
He arched an eyebrow and grinned. “Aren’t you being a bit presumptuous?”
“Yes.” She gave a melodic laugh. “You forget, my mother was a Farthingale. So, I am part well-intentioned, meddlesome pest, and the Brayden part of me is bold and determined.”
“Ah, an unbeatable combination,” he replied with good humor. “You get away with it because you are pretty, and no man would be so cruel as to toss you out on your ear.”
She took another sip of her tea. “You haven’t asked me about the gift.”
“Right. What’s in the box?” He held out his hand for it, but she suddenly drew it behind her back.
“You know, I think I will keep you guessing. When you come to supper tomorrow evening, I shall give it to you, and we shall open it together.”
Odd, he hadn’t cracked a smile in years. Within minutes, Hyacinth had him doing nothing but that. Smiling. Grinning. Laughing. “I could simply grab it from you now and be done with it.”
She wasn’t in the least daunted. “I could still box your ears.”
He laughed again. “Finish your ginger cake, you impertinent girl. I’ll escort you home. And that’s another thing, what are you doing here on your own?”
She blushed. “It was wicked of me. My parents think I am out shopping with a friend. Well, I was. But my friend dropped me off in front of your home.”
“And then left you stranded here?” He frowned, genuinely concerned. “What if I weren’t at home? Or refused to let you in?”
“I wasn’t traipsing around London on my own. And I hardly think Belgravia is a den of iniquity. Lady Withnall resides around the corner from you. I would have gone to her and asked if her driver could take me home.”
“Blessed saints, is that little snoop still alive? How old is she now, one hundred and fifty?”
“At least that,” she said merrily, “and still wreaking havoc on everyone with secrets to hide. Do you have any secrets to hide, Innes?”
He shrugged. “One would have to care what others thought in order to have them be proper secrets.”
She nodded. “I suppose.”
“Have you got secrets, Hyacinth?”
She was brightening the room once again with her smile. “Ugh! No. Unless you count this visit, which I suppose could ruin me if anyone found out I’d been sitting here alone with you.”
“Your secret is safe with me. I have no wish to be descended upon by either the Brayden men or the Farthingale ladies and hauled before a minister. Have you finished your tea? I’ll take you home now.”
“Yes, thank you.” She rose and watched him as he crossed to the bell-pull to summon Holmes. “It is nice to see you again, Innes,” she said softly, sending a surge of regret through his bones. “You look very well.”
“So do you. I suppose everyone tells you that you resemble your mother. You have her dark hair and striking violet eyes.”
“Yes, I’m told that quite often. However, I inherited my father’s singing voice, which means I sing like a bullfrog. My mother still has the voice of an angel.”
He nodded. “I remember the first time I heard her sing. It was at an important charity event held at the Royal Society. She truly has the voice of an angel. That night, she ended the recital with a hauntingly beautiful song of the sea. Something about a sailor in love with a selkie. One