Susan Johnson by When Someone Loves You Page B

gifts.
    There were six boxes in all—from his grandmother, mother, father, two sisters, and brother. Giles’s offering, in fact, was decidedly splendid, and Duff wondered which of his brother’s light o’ loves would go without until the ruby bracelet could be replaced.
    “It’s too much, of course,” Annabelle said several moments later, the jewelry twinkling in her lap.
    “Rather, it’s not enough by half,” Duff remonstrated. “You’ve brought me back into the world. And if you don’t take them, I’ll sink back into my gloom.”
    “No, you won’t.”
    “I might.”
    She gave him an assessing look, understanding how difficult it was to both accept and reject these offerings from his family. She didn’t wish to offend the Westerlands. On the other hand, it would be difficult to bring so much expensive jewelry home. “If I were to accept these, it could cause problems with my mother. She’s unaware of my life in the city—other than my stage work.”
    “I understand. But they’ll fit in your reticule.”
    “I don’t know,” she murmured. “While it was very kind of your family to do this, taking these is a bit awkward.”
    “My family meant only to please you for all you’ve done for me. And they hope our friendship will prosper, of course.”
    Her gaze narrowed. “Why would they want that?”
    “You misunderstand,” he quickly said. “They mean for it to prosper in the most benign way. You’re invited to dinner anytime you wish to come. My mother is intent on sending you an invitation in gratitude for my recovery.”
    “I’m indecisive, as you can see.” Annabelle hesitated a moment more before saying, “In fact, I’m not sure I wish to extend our friendship to”—her nostrils flared—“very well, I’ll say it—to your family.”
    “Dinner could be extremely informal. It’s not as though you don’t dine with any number of the Ton ,” Duff maintained. “At least think about it. Why don’t I tell Maman it depends on your mother’s health.”
    “So you are recovered?” she queried, in lieu of responding to his dinner invitation.
    “Let’s say, I’m well on my way”—his brows rose—“after nearly a year. So think what you will, but you are very much an angel of mercy to my family and me.”
    “I don’t know what to say to such a fulsome compliment, other than thank you.”
    “You’re very welcome.” He grinned. “You’ve made the entire D’Abernon family ecstatic.”
    She smiled. “And how easy it was.” Indeed, she should be thanking him for bringing joy into her family, her mother’s spirits thoroughly revived. But more cautious in her position, she remained silent.
    “So, then, I’ll bundle these into your reticule”—he began placing the bits of jewelry into the purse hanging from her wrist—“and I’ll bring you home.”
    She felt an odd remorse at the thought of him leaving. But ever pragmatic, she shook it away. “Thank you so much for a lovely afternoon. I mean it sincerely. I can’t remember laughing so much.” She made a small moue. “It’s been some bit of time…”
    “Would you like to come and see my stable and racers tomorrow? We could bring your mother and the baby if you don’t wish to leave them again so soon. I could drive over in a larger carriage.”
    “How many horses do you have?” She should have said no; if she were truly pragmatic, she would have.
    “Just ten at the moment. But four of them followed me through the campaigns in Europe. You saw Romulus yesterday; his mates are equally fine. Eddie could make tea for your mother if you like.”
    She laughed. “I’m sure he’d be pleased about that.”
    “Believe me, he’s pleased about anything that takes me out into the world again. Say you’ll come. We’ll have a picnic.”
    “I shouldn’t.”
    “Why ever not?”
    She couldn’t think of a good reason. It wasn’t as though he was asking for anything out of the ordinary. “Very well, I’ll ask