of her neck, as if he was checking her pulse.
âI thinkâ¦â Her voice was low and unfamiliar. âI think you are seducing me and trying to make me think itâs my idea.â
He let his hand fall away from her neck and she missed it immediately, with a strange spike of longing for so small a touch. âI donât know if thatâs exactly right,â he said. âIâm certainly not trying to seduce you for some temporary fling⦠just to get you to say yes, if thatâs what you mean. But youâre right: I most definitely want it to be your idea. Sleep well, Abigail. Iâll see you in the morning.â
She huffed a little sigh. âOkay. Sleep well, Eliotâ¦â She almost said, lots of love like she automatically did when Bronte took Wolf to bed when Abby was at Dunlear. Or when she was with Devon and Sarah and they all said good night at the bottom of the big staircase⦠good night⦠lots of love.
Eliot pulled the door shut behind him and Abigail leaned her forehead against the thick oak panel and listened to the sound of his receding footsteps.
It was just a throwaway bit, that lots of love ⦠that wanting to say it. It didnât mean I love you like that . She tapped her forehead against the wood a couple of times, hoping something illuminating would penetrate her thick skull, then turned to the bathroom and set about unpacking her toothbrush and getting ready for bed.
***
Saturday morning, Abby took Penny Cranbrook at her word and shambled downstairs in her pajamas and the thick robe that was hanging on the back of the bathroom door.
âGood morning, Abigail. I thought I heard you rustling around up there. Would you like some coffee?â
âGood morning. Yes, please.â Abby sat on one of the stools next to the island in the middle of the kitchen.
Penny wore a flowery flannel bathrobe that went to the floor and a pair of thick socks that looked like they probably belonged to her husband. Abby must have been staring at the older womanâs feet, spacing out as she often did when she first woke up.
âOh! I have such cold feet⦠not very fashionable footwear in the morning. Eliotâs dad loves to joke that I always have cold feet⦠except when it came to marrying him!â She handed Abby a mug of black coffee then set a small creamer and sugar bowl on the counter near where she sat.
âI have it black, thanks.â
âI used to be so good about that, but Iâm all cream and sugar all the time these days.â Penny laughed at herself. âI spent way too many years watching every calorie so I could wear all the latest things. Now Iâd rather taste cream and sugar than wear a size six.â
Abby smiled and took another sip of coffee.
âLetâs go sit in the sunroom. I made some zucchini muffins, and we can read the papers out there. Eliot and Will went into town to pick up some shotgun shells. They thought you might want to go pheasant hunting before we head over to Grandma Cranbrookâs later this afternoon. What do you think?â
âIâd love that.â Abby looked up at the gray winter sky through the slanted glass ceiling. âIs this a British conservatory? It feels wonderfully familiar.â
âIt is. After Eliotâs dad sold his company, it was our first real extravagance.â
Abigail realized she didnât have a clue about what Eliotâs father did for a living. She figured it would be rude to inquire.
âHas Eliot told you about his fatherâs business?â
Well, that answered that. Abigail smiled. âNo. I mean, Sarah said that Eliotâs father and her father had been business associates for many years, but I never really knew the specifics.â
âOh, thatâs right.â Penny smiled over her mug of coffee. âIsnât it considered sort of rude in England to ask what do you do ? What a perfect example of our cultural
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