Head in the Clouds by Karen Witemeyer

moment she forgot what they’d been discussing.
    Gideon cleared his throat and turned his attention back to his daughter, bouncing her in his arms once more before setting her down. “Well, Miss Slayer, dinner is about ready, so why don’t you wash up and see if Mrs. Chalmers needs any help.”
    Isabella gave a final salute and disappeared down the stairs.
    “I should follow those orders, as well,” Adelaide said, overly conscious of her grimy apron and the perspiration that glued her dress to her back. She moved toward the door, but Gideon’s voice stopped her.
    “I’d like to speak with you for a moment, Miss Proctor. If you don’t mind.”
    “Certainly, sir.” Adelaide tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, refraining from scratching the itchy spot under her kerchief. She wished she looked more presentable for this interview. No fair maiden wanted to converse privately with a handsome prince while resembling a bedraggled scullery maid. Then again, no fair maiden would slam a broomstick into her prince’s jaw, either. She stifled a sigh and tried not to stare at the bruise forming on his cheek. After that mishap, she guessed her appearance was the least of her worries.
    She waited for him to speak his mind, but all he did was stare at his shoes and shift his weight from one leg to the other. A slight frown disrupted the charm that usually flowed from him, tarnishing his storybook-hero shine a bit. Yet instead of being disappointed by the loss, Adelaide felt compelled to peek beneath his veneer to find the real man behind the winsome manners. She stepped closer and angled her head to peer into his face. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but when their eyes met, he froze.
    In that instant she saw his vulnerability, his doubt, his determination. Then, with a blink of his lashes, it disappeared. His smile returned in all its devastating glory. His dimples winked at her and almost succeeded in their distraction attempt. As always, her stomach fluttered under their influence, but for the first time she found herself wondering how often Gideon used them to shield his true feelings.
    “You have accomplished quite a feat this afternoon, Miss Proctor.” His light comment seemed at odds with his initial reluctance.
    Adelaide considered him a moment longer, then decided to set her investigation aside for the time being. “Thank you, sir. I hope you don’t mind my borrowing a few household furnishings to set up the classroom.”
    “Not at all. I’m glad you found what you needed.”
    He turned to examine the area again, his smile firmly in place, but Adelaide wasn’t fooled. Unasked questions hung heavily in the air around him.
    “Isabella hasn’t spoken since she awakened.”
    Gideon pivoted to face her, his dimples gone and his gaze filled with gratitude along with a hunger for more information. Adelaide’s heart stirred in response.
    “I prompted her repeatedly, but she acted as if the events of this morning never happened. Maybe it’s best that she not remember … at least for now.” Adelaide laid her hand on his arm for a brief second, then pulled back. “I’m sorry, Mr. Westcott.”
    “I had hoped …” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It will come in God’s time. I should not be so greedy.”
    She quirked a brow. “Greedy?”
    The dimples returned, accompanied by a genuine sparkle in his eyes. “I have no reason to lament Bella’s small reverse step when you helped her leap forward in such dramatic fashion today.”
    “I only reminded her how to pretend. I don’t think—”
    “Miss Proctor.”
    The rest of her words dissolved in her mouth.
    “You accomplished a feat in a single afternoon that I have been attempting for months.” Gideon paused, and Adelaide nearly melted from the warmth in his eyes. “Bella laughed.”

    The following morning, just after dawn, Gideon crept out of the house and down to the stable to saddle his horse. He still preferred the