Miss Serena's Secret by Carolyn Miller

Author:Carolyn Miller
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kregel Publications
Published: 2018-10-10T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EİGHTEEN

SERENA FROZE. A smatter of chuckles around the room put paid to her very slim hope that nobody else had heard Ellie’s extremely unfortunate remark. Heat crawled up from her chest to fill her cheeks. What to do? What to say?

Fixing her eyes on Ellie she said, “He has not.”

“Oh.” The baby lips pushed into a pucker, before her gaze shifted beyond Serena’s shoulder. “Uncle Harry, Uncle Harry?”

“Yes, dear child?”

“Are you going to ask Miss S’ena to marry you?”

She would not look at him. Could not look at him—though part of her craved to see his face.

A loud clearing of throat suggested he found the impertinent question as awkward as she had. “I am thrilled to see you back to your monkeyish ways, young Eleanor.”

Oh. Her heart dipped. She worked to keep her features neutral and not betray her disappointment at his answer—especially with his sister eyeing her from such close proximity.

“Speaking of simians,” the drawl continued, “where is that abominable creature I brought back from India? Don’t tell me Mr. Monkey has climbed a tree?”

“No-o-o.” Ellie laughed. “She’s prob’ly in my bed.”

Serena pushed to her feet, pretending not to see his hand offering assistance, as Melanie murmured to Tom about retrieving the soft toy. The movement caused the room to tilt slightly.

“Serena?” Catherine placed a hand on her arm. “You look pale. Are you quite well?”

“Of course.”

“Do you wish for the doctor again?” Jon asked.

“No. Thank you.” She offered a smile to reassure. She would be well. Soon. Probably.

Tom returned with the stuffed toy, his little sister’s delight causing another round of hurriedly brushed wet eyes.

“I have never understood why she prefers that toy above all else,” Melanie complained. “Not dolls. No, never dolls. But that little defurred orange creature remains a favorite.”

“Perhaps it has something to do with the giver?” the viscount suggested with a grin.

“Are monkeys really that color in India?” Tom asked.

“Not that I saw, but perhaps you should ask Lord Winthrop here. He spent a far longer time there, and may have seen all sorts of things I did not.”

Tom’s expressed interest soon had Jon touching on some of his experiences with the Indian wildlife. Thankful for the change in subject, Serena fought to maintain her composure, fought to keep her eyes from straying to the man who had positioned himself near her left. But she remained acutely aware of him all the same. It was as though her senses strained to know him, her skin prickling with awareness, her ears catching every sound he made, from his words to the faintest rustle as he moved. Her sense of smell also seemed to have gained new appreciation for him, and as she breathed she caught the slightest tang of his cologne: warm, rich, sweet, tantalizing.

“Serena?”

She blinked, returning her attention to her hostess. “I beg your pardon?”

Melanie’s brow creased. “Perhaps when the doctor comes to check Ellie he should also see you. That was quite the feat you performed yesterday.”

Was that accusation in her eyes? It seemed … not.

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