Page 16 of Summer Storms

Christine blinked, feeling tears in her eyes. “I have enjoyed being here, Abby. I miss you all when I am away. Far more than I expected to.”

“Zek seems to appreciate your company as well,” Abby said, with a searching gaze. “I am so glad you have made up with him.”

“So am I,” she admitted, even as part of questioned whether she actually had. She glanced across the room and saw Izzy glaring at her. “However, I’m not sure his sister feels the same.”

Abby followed her gaze and frowned. “I will speak to her.”

“No, please don’t. I’ll take care of that. I’m just trying to decide what to say.”

Abby hesitated a moment, then nodded. “All right.” She stifled a yawn. “Sorry. I get so tired, even with the nursemaid Reeve has employed. But I do like to do everything myself, despite him scolding me.” She smiled, so the scolding obviously wasn’t too serious.

“You should go to bed,” Christine whispered, leaning closer. “No one will mind. We have all seen you now.”

Abby gathered her shawl about her. “You are a sensible girl, Christine. When we were younger, I thought you were such a dreamer. Your head was always in the clouds, or at least treading the boards. But you’re not like that at all.”

“I don’t think a dreamer would have made it this far in the theatre,” said Christine. “Only the ones who understand the work involved and are prepared to do it last very long.”

Abby retiring was seen as a signal for the others to start saying their goodbyes.

That was when, to her surprise, Zek sought her out. “Can I have a word?”

“Of course. What is it?”

He nodded toward one of the sitting rooms. “In private. It won’t take long.”

She reluctantly followed him, only closing the door halfway. Was this when he told her he loved her in the hopes of getting her to admit she felt the same so that he could laugh in her face? Like one of the villains in a play she had been in?

He came close, looking down at her, watching her face with those dark brown eyes of his. She wondered what he saw? Fear? Anxiety? Or perhaps a deep sense of disappointment in him?

“I thought I should prepare you,” Zek began, which sounded very ominous. But then he said, “My mother is planning a lavish dinner party and dance at the Lady’s House. Invitations are going out tomorrow.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t expected that. She tried to gather her thoughts, which had scattered wildly. “I should think it would be something I will love to go to!” she said at last.

“Good.” He took her hand in his and held it. “I am glad. It will make my mother’s evening if you come. And mine,” he added.

Christine was confused, wondering whether or not to believe him. He seemed so genuine. Surely he meant what he was saying? Or perhaps he was a better actor than she was an actress?

“She is new to this sort of thing, and desperate for it to be a success,” he went on, sounding a bit worried. “People can be very unkind, Christine.”

Like her? “Is there anything I can do?” she asked.

He pressed her hand. “I only ask that you come and enjoy yourself,” he said quietly. “If you are there, there is no way the evening will be a failure in Mother’s eyes.”

His dark eyes were full of emotion and promises, and she found it difficult to look away from them. They might have stood there all night had Izzy not pushed the door open, demanding to know whether her brother was taking her home or not. Zek hastily followed her out to the front door, where Will and Molly were also waiting.

“There you are!” Molly said, looking between Zek and Christine. “We wondered where you had gotten to.”

“Miss Starling was making a fool of herself in front of Zek again,” Izzy announced, marching out of the door.

Christine’s mouth hung open in astonishment.

“Izzy!” Zek said in a reprimanding manner as he followed his sister.

Soon they had all set off, leaving Ansford Keep behind them. Christine hoped her brother and sister-in-law would not ask her any prying questions. She needed some quiet time to herself, just to think. Fortunately, they read her averted face correctly, but once they arrived back at Starling Hall, Will asked if she had a moment to talk.

Resigned, she followed him into the parlour. Not the one reserved for guests, but what she and her siblings had always called the comfortable parlour. Untidy, filled with well-worn furniture and pleasant family memories.

They sat together on the shabby sofa and Will said, “Zek Nash has become quite the gentleman, don’t you think?” He watched her closely and must have seen her unease at the question, though she tried to hide it.