and turned toward his sister, pretending to hang on her every word.
Emily’s voice faltered. She must have caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye. She glanced at him, did a double take and slapped at his arm, slowing, but not stopping, her story.
Christian’s laughter finally silenced her. She turned to scowl at him. “Eat, little sister,” he said. “I want dessert.”
“I’m done,” Emily said. Whether she referred to her dinner or her story wasn’t clear to Lynnette.
Christian rose from the table and headed for the kitchen. Emily scowled after him. “At home we ring a bell so the servants serve dessert,” she said.
“Martha and her family are having their own dinner,” Hugh said quietly. “It doesn’t hurt us to wait on ourselves.”
Emily looked unconvinced but didn’t argue. She quickly thought of another story to share with her father and was well into it when Christian returned. He carried a tray of soup bowls heaped with ice cream.
Lynnette laughed when he traded one for her plate. “If all meals are like this, I’ll be fat long before summer’s over.”
“Perry cranked all afternoon,” Christian said. “We can’t hurt his feelings.”
“Where did he get the ice?”
“From the icehouse,” Emily offered, digging in without concern for the rarity of the treat.
“We cut ice from the streams in winter,” Hugh explained. After a moment he broke the silence left by Emily’s preoccupation with the dessert. “Christian, did you know our guest here wants to take over one of the balconies so she can write?”
“Really?” Lynnette felt Christian’s scrutiny. “What do you write?”
“Fiction,” she said, trying to include everyone in her answer to avoid looking directly at Christian.
“Have you had anything published?”
Christian’s question hung in the air, repeating itself in Lynnette’s mind until it became an accusation. “Have you had anything published?”
She opened her mouth to speak. Should she lie, keep them in the dark the way she had everyone else, even Amanda, or tell them about the book and risk their censure? The notion that Arlen might not wish to marry the author of one of those scandalous novels occurred to her for the first time. Her heart beat hard enough for the others to hear, a ringing beat like boot heels on a wooden floor. Boot heels that grew closer.
Christian’s attention turned away from her, toward the living room. It was boot heels she had heard. She almost wilted with relief.
“I believe Arlen’s home,” Hugh said.
Lynnette’s relief quickly turned to a different kind of dread. How should she greet the stranger who had asked her to marry him?
There was no time to decide, however. Arlen strode into the room. Hugh stood and extended his hand. Emily barely looked up from her ice cream.
Arlen bent to kiss Lynnette’s cheek before reaching past her to shake his father’s hand. He slipped into the chair next to her. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t meet your train, darling. I hope you had a good trip.”
“Of course,” she murmured. “And you?” He was really quite handsome with a dark curl caressing his forehead. And charming. It felt nice to have someone’s undivided attention.
“Fine. Just fine.” His gaze was almost worshipful. “It’s wonderful to see you again. I hurried away as soon as I could.”
“You eaten?” Christian asked.
“All I’ve done for two days is eat.” He seemed to notice his siblings for the first time. “I might have some of that ice cream, though.”
Christian slowly savored a spoonful, swallowed it and smacked his lips. “You know where it is,” he said. “You might want to hurry before Jake finishes it off.”
Hugh laughed. “We’re about ready to move to the living room, Arlen. Why don’t you get a bowl and join us. Bring yours along, Lynnette.” He rose from the table and a moment latter Emily and Christian followed.
Arlen detained Lynnette with a hand on her arm. “I’m truly sorry I couldn’t be here when you arrived,” he. whispered once they were alone.
“That’s quite all right, Arlen. I understand. Your family’s made me feel welcome.”
“I don’t want you to think this campaign is more important than you are,” he said, still in a hushed tone. “You’re everything to me.” He lifted her hand to his lips.
Lynnette fought the urge to squirm. She wasn’t sure if it was his kiss or his words that made her the more uncomfortable. She gave him a wavering smile when he finally lifted his head. They could hear voices from the next room, and Arlen stood, helping her to her feet. “I’ve kept you alone long enough,” he said softly. “Join the others. I’ll be along in a moment.”
He headed toward the kitchen, and Lynnette gazed after him. She should be flattered by his words. She should be falling head over heels in love with him. Instead she felt uneasy. She didn’t think she wanted to be “everything” to anyone. At least not to Arlen. She felt guilty for that thought. Why not Arlen? They just needed time.
She glanced down at the half-finished dessert and decided against bringing it. In the living room, she found Hugh setting up a chessboard while Christian built a fire. Emily stood over Christian, her hands on her hips.
“Do you have to tonight?” she asked.
“You don’t break a horse by working with it once in a while.”
“But tonight? I just got home.”
Christian rose to his feet, brushing his hands on his pants. “Go on up now,” he said. “I’ll wait for you.”
Emily turned and ran toward the stairs. She met Arlen coming with his bowl of ice cream but barely acknowledged him as she grabbed the banister and scurried up the stairs.
“What’s she up to?” Arlen asked. He urged Lynnette into a love seat and sat down beside her.
Hugh answered his question. “She wants to change for bed before Christian goes out to work with the stallion.”
“One would think she would have outgrown that by now,” Arlen said.
“Let her be a little girl when she’s home.” Christian took a seat near the fire, almost hidden from Lynnette’s view by Hugh and his chessboard.
“Do I have any takers?” Hugh asked. “Lynnette, do you play?”
Lynnette smiled. “I have played. I don’t know if I’ll be much of a challenge to you, though.”
“He doesn’t want a challenge,” Arlen said. “He plays chess at night for the same reason Christian waits until evening to break his horses. They want to catch their opponents when they’re tired.”
“In that case,” Lynnette said, coming to her feet. “I’m the perfect opponent.” She crossed to the table, and Christian stepped forward, moving a big leather-covered chair into position. She took the seat, nodding her thanks as he returned to his place. She thought she should have felt some loss at leaving Arlen’s side, but actually she was more comfortable across from his father.
He offered her the first move, which she took. This prompted him to spend a long moment studying the board as if this were a most unusual first move.
“He’s waiting for you to fall asleep,” Christian whispered into