Page 36 of To Love a Beast

"Everett!" She glanced down at his empty hands. "No Allan Quatermain this afternoon?" He'd finished reading King Solomon's Mines on Saturday and had started the second book in the series on Monday.

He held out his hands as if just realizing that he'd forgotten the book, then gave a shrug. "I thought we might do something different today."

"Oh?"

He came alongside her and offered his arm.

She gave him a quizzical look. "Something that requires an escort?" She tossed a sideways glance to the decorative clock that sat amid the shelves. "It's not yet five o'clock. I still have another hour of work to complete."

Something mischievous twinkled in his eye. "Not tonight. You have a party to attend, instead."

"A party?"

He tilted his head toward his extended arm, and all at once it hit her. He wore a suit. One exceptionally well-tailored to show off the width of his shoulders and narrowness of his waist. She glanced down at the plain blue work dress and white apron she wore every day and felt shabby in comparison. Nibbling on her lip, she reached a hand up to check her hair.

He leaned close and whispered a secret in her ear. "You look beautiful."

She rolled her eyes at him. "I look like I've been working in a bindery all day."

He smiled. "If this is what a woman looks like after she's worked in a bindery all day, you should write it up as a beauty regimen and print it in the Ladies' Home Journal. Debutantes will flock to binderies in droves."

She laughed at his ridiculousness. "Is this the legendary Everett Griffin charm?"

"I thought I'd dust it off for today's special occasion. Might be a bit rusty, though." His mouth twisted in an expression of self-deprecation she found utterly adorable.

After taking a moment to remove her apron and smooth the bodice of her dress, she slid her hand into the crook of his arm and allowed him to lead her from the library.

"And just what occasion are we celebrating?"

There was that twinkle again. "You'll see."

He turned toward the front of the house and led her to the formal parlor where she'd had her interview with Mr. Lighthouse all those weeks ago.

Everett slowed his step and gestured for her to enter the room ahead of him. The moment she crossed the threshold, a cheer rang out, and three beloved faces jumped into her field of vision.

"Happy birthday!"

Birthday? How had they known? Tears distorted her vision as joy flooded her soul. She glanced over her shoulder to find Everett beaming at her with little-boy hope in his eye. He'd done this. To please her. She smiled at him with all the love in her heart then opened her arms to embrace her friends, even starchy Timens.

Chapter 17

Another chunk of ice fell away from Everett's heart as Callista's warmth enveloped his makeshift family. Timens blushed and stammered as she threw her arms around his neck, but an indulgent smile softened the butler's oh-so-proper demeanor when he thought no one was looking. The man adored Callista. They all did. And she adored them right back.

Mrs. Potter drew her deeper into the room, but Callista twisted to peer behind her at Everett as she moved toward the seating area.

"Come on." The genuine joy radiating from her smile shot such longing through him, it required significant effort not to stagger backward from the force of the blow. "This is your doing," she teased. "There'll be no lurking in doorways for you, sir." She extended a hand and gestured for him to join the group, as if she considered his presence an enrichment and not a dutiful inclusion.

He caught Lightfoot and Mrs. Potter exchanging gleeful glances, but he ignored their romantic giddiness. This evening was about Callista and her happiness. Not his own. Although, he had to admit that, of late, his happiness tended to increase in proportion to hers.

"Here, dearie. You have the seat of honor." Mrs. Potter steered Callista to the upholstered armchair near the hearth where Everett often enjoyed sitting by the fire during the colder winter months. The chair dwarfed her petite figure, but he rather enjoyed seeing her there, her eyes crinkled with excitement.

Mrs. Potter perched on the edge of the nearby sofa, taking the side closest to Callista while Lightfoot sat to the housekeeper's right. He planted his foot on the rug and leaned forward to ensure he had an unobstructed view of Callista and the three packages waiting on the small table next to the arm of her chair. Timens took the seat opposite Callista on the far side of the rug, leaving the chair nearest her vacant. Everett lowered himself to the upholstered cushion, an attack of nerves suddenly drying his mouth. Thankfully, Mrs. Potter had no trouble taking charge.

"Mr. Griffin told us about the lovely birthday tradition you share with your father," his housekeeper explained, "and since the two of you can't be together this week, we thought to help you celebrate."

Callista looked to him, appreciation and delight beaming from her expression, and his insides turned to complete mush. "What a thoughtful gesture. Thank you!"

Her attention left him to visit each of the others, but it darted back to him before moving to the gift Mrs. Potter was handing her. A lovely pink hue tinted her cheeks as her lashes lowered, and his heart pounded with the vigor of a blacksmith's hammer. He'd seen looks like that before, but not since the destruction of his face. Looks of shy, feminine interest. Of attraction.