CHAPTER 4

In the Carmichaels’ parlor, Andrew sipped the cocktail Cecilia had foisted on him and held back a grimace of distaste. Much to his father’s chagrin, Andrew had never developed a taste for spirits, which made the endless rounds of social engagements his father attended each month all the more tedious.

“Oh, come on.” Cecilia pouted while twisting a blond curl around her finger. “It’s my birthday. Can’t you please relax a little?” She frowned. “And for heaven’s sake, get rid of these.”

Before Andrew realized her intent, she lifted the spectacles from his face.

Heat spread up his neck. “Sorry. Forgot to take them off.” She always hated when he wore his glasses. Said it made him look too bookish. He shoved the frames into the breast pocket of his jacket. One more reminder of his imperfections. He tried not to squint as he scanned the room, finally spotting his father who stood talking to Harrison Carmichael.

“What did you get me for my birthday?” Cecilia’s flirtatious tone drew his attention back.

“You know it’s not polite to ask.” Andrew managed to summon a playful smile. “You’ll have to wait and open it with the others.” He gestured to the table against the far wall, laden with wrapped gifts.

“You sure you don’t want to go somewhere private and open it alone?” She ran her hand down his arm.

He raised a brow. “I don’t think that would go over well with your parents. Or the other guests.”

Disappointment flashed over her attractive features, sparking a pang of regret in Andrew. He knew that she, as well as both sets of parents, had been hoping they would be engaged by now. But with the whole business of becoming Christian’s guardian, Andrew’s life had been more hectic than usual, and it hadn’t afforded him much time to spend with her lately.

“Have I mentioned how lovely you look this evening?” Perhaps he could charm his way out of the situation. “The blue of your dress matches your eyes perfectly.”

A coy smile bloomed. “Lovely enough for you to dance with me? I believe the orchestra is about to start.”

With great effort, Andrew suppressed a cringe. Being the son of Toronto’s biggest hotel mogul, he should be used to being the center of attention, yet it still chafed—every time. He pushed back his discomfort, set his drink on a nearby table, and bowed over her hand. “I’d be honored.”

She laughed and pulled him onto the dance floor. As the music floated over the air, Andrew tightened his arm around Cecilia’s slim frame. The scent of some new and likely expensive perfume drifted upward. Her fair curls tickled his jaw. Yet Andrew felt nothing. No zing of attraction. No quickening of the pulse. Nothing but a slight flutter of affection. He’d hoped by now his old feelings for her would have rekindled, yet so far they remained dormant. Could such a weak bond grow into one of love? Or at least into something that could sustain a marriage?

He smiled down at her. She was so beautiful. She could literally have the pick of all the eligible men in the city. But for reasons he couldn’t fathom, she seemed bent on having him. Andrew held back a sigh. He owed it to her and his family to muster up more enthusiasm for this relationship.

As soon as the song ended, Cecilia tugged him over to the side of the room. “There’s Rosalyn and Danica. We must say hello.”

Andrew swallowed a groan. Cecilia’s best friends were two of the most annoying gossips he’d ever encountered, but for some reason Cecilia held them in the highest regard. They’d been friends since their school days, all attending the same private girls’ academy, and as such, he could not afford to alienate them.

After the women had hugged and kissed, he pasted on the expected smile. “Good evening, ladies.”

“Good evening, Andrew. You look especially handsome tonight.” Danica, an attractive brunette, dropped a mock curtsy in front of him.

“And you both look lovely as well.”

Rosalyn laid a hand on his arm, giving him a coquettish smile. “Celia dearest, if you ever change your mind about this one, I’d be happy to step in and mend his broken heart.”

“I would too,” Danica added. “He wouldn’t be lonely for long.”

Andrew forced his lips to stay smiling, though his insides clenched. Never in a thousand lifetimes would he court the likes of these two. Yet could he honestly say Cecilia was any different?

“That won’t be necessary for I don’t intend to change my mind.” Cecilia wound her arm through his in a possessive manner, laying her cheek against his shoulder.

“Does this mean we might expect a certain announcement tonight?” Rosalyn’s eyes widened as she stared at them.

Cecilia laughed. “You’ll have to ask Andrew. He was being mysterious about my birthday gift.”

The women giggled, and Andrew struggled to hold on to his growing temper.

Did everyone believe an engagement was about to happen? If so, they were in for a huge disappointment. Andrew’s gaze swung out over the crowd and landed on his father. He raised his glass to Andrew, then turned to say something to Mr. Carmichael. A sick feeling swirled in Andrew’s stomach. Surely his father hadn’t insinuated such a thing to Cecilia’s parents. If and when he proposed, it would be in his own time and in his own manner. Not in front of hundreds of strangers. He’d better head off this problem before the situation got out of hand.

“Excuse me, ladies. I need to speak with my father for a moment.”

“Hurry back, darling. It’s almost time for the cake and presents.”

He bent to kiss Cecilia’s cheek. “I won’t be long.”

Andrew caught up with his father near the entrance to the room and waited for him to finish a conversation with one of his colleagues.

When the man drifted away, Father spotted Andrew and smiled. “There you are, Andrew. Having a good time?”

“Not especially. You know how I dislike these affairs.”

“Think of it as part of the job. It’s good business to mingle outside of work.” Father leaned closer. “Speaking of mingling, I’m happy to see you and Cecilia spending so much time together. Harrison is hoping for an announcement soon.”

Andrew fisted his hands into balls. “We’ve already discussed this. When I’m ready, you’ll be the first to know. Other than Cecilia, that is.”

His father shot an almost nervous glance across the room to where Harrison Carmichael stood and gave a slight shake of his head.

Andrew’s temper simmered. “I don’t know what you two are plotting, but this is my life, and I will determine when and if I marry.” The band started up again, the jarring of the trumpet creating a line of tension at Andrew’s temple. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve developed a raging headache. I must go and make my apologies to Cecilia.”

“You can’t leave yet. The cake hasn’t even been served.”

“No one will miss me, I’m sure. Don’t bother sending for the car. I’d prefer to walk.”

Andrew set his jaw as he made his way through the crowd to find Cecilia, bracing for her displeasure. It would be worth her annoyance to escape this infernal gathering. He’d send her some flowers as an apology in the morning.

Minutes later, after a chilly good-bye from a decidedly unhappy Cecilia, Andrew let himself out the front door and was soon striding down the Carmichaels’ long drive. Once on the street, he loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt. Finally, he could breathe again. He inhaled deeply, relishing the hint of chimney smoke in the crisp night air. Springtime in the city was one of Andrew’s favorite times of year, when the world awakened from its slumber to begin anew.

Exactly what Andrew hoped to do.

But which direction to take?

Until a few weeks ago, Andrew’s course had seemed certain. He’d worked alongside his father in the hotel business since he graduated from university and was poised to take over whenever his father decided to retire. Granted that wouldn’t be for some time yet. Father was still in his prime with no intention of slowing down. Especially not before he saw Andrew properly settled with a family of his own.

The news of Rose’s death, however, had thrown the whole Easton family off-balance. Just when they’d been recovering from the shock of Frank’s death, they’d learned he had a son. And now that son had lost his mother too. What else could they do but take the poor child in?

Andrew hadn’t counted on the toll his guardianship of Christian would take on Cecilia, who had soon made it plain she resented the boy’s intrusion in Andrew’s life. Another reason why he had cooled their relationship temporarily until the situation with Christian became more certain. The baby had quickly found his way into Andrew’s heart, and he couldn’t imagine letting anyone else, save Virginia if circumstances allowed, raise the boy. If Cecilia wanted a future with Andrew, she would have to learn to accept Christian as part of their family. He hoped in time she would.

But for now, he was taking it one day at a time.

Andrew turned the corner onto a side street, deserted at this time of night, and looked up at the evening sky. A multitude of stars winked back at him. He paused to exhale, content to simply admire God’s handiwork—something he hadn’t done in a long time. Vivid recollections of his boyhood came to mind, when he used to lie out on the back lawn at night and try to memorize the constellations. It was during those moments of peace and awe that Andrew had felt closest to God.

Regret and a touch of guilt rippled through him. He needed to get back to those simpler pleasures. And he needed to pay more attention to his prayer life as well. He’d been remiss in seeking the Lord’s guidance lately, a practice he needed more than ever if he was to become a parent to his orphaned nephew.

Andrew was so intent on the beauty of the sky that he almost walked past a lone figure sitting on the curb.

A loud sniff caught his attention. He stopped and glanced across the street, astounded to find that it was a young woman. What was she doing out here alone at this hour?

The slump of her shoulders screamed dejection. She clutched a purse on her lap, and one shoe lay discarded on the patch of grass beside her. The brim of her hat hid her features, all except her trembling bottom lip.

Immediately, Andrew’s chivalrous instincts kicked in, and he crossed the road. “Excuse me, miss. Are you in need of assistance?”

Her head whipped up, revealing traces of tears on her cheeks. She dashed a gloved hand across her face. “Yes, thank you. I think I’ve sprained my ankle.”

A distinct British accent laced her soft words.

He bent down in front of her. “May I?”

“Are you a doctor?” She blinked luminous brown eyes at him.

“No, but I’ve experienced my fair share of sprained limbs.” He smiled. “I was a terrible athlete in school. Sat on the injured bench more than actually playing.” He ran his fingers over her foot. Definite swelling. “May I ask what you’re doing out here alone?”

“I was taking a walk and got turned around. I seemed to be going in circles and couldn’t get my bearings. Then I went off the curb and twisted my foot. I tried to go on, but it’s no use. I can’t put any weight on it.” She winced as he touched the bruised area. “Do you think it’s broken?”

“Unlikely. But we should probably let a doctor determine that.” Andrew scratched his beard. “I don’t live far from here. Let me get my car and drive you home.”

“Oh no. That’s too much trouble. If you could call me a cab, I’d be most grateful.” She shivered and pulled her arms tighter around her middle.

“I doubt you’ll have much luck getting a cab at this hour. They tend to congregate near Union Station. By the time one arrives, it could be ages. Besides, my conscience would never allow it.” He rose, removed his jacket, and draped it over her shoulders. “Promise me you’ll stay right here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”