Free A Practical Arrangement by Nadja Notariani Page B

Opal resumed her fawning with renewed vigor.
    Jonathan, so enamored with Mrs. Brentwood, scarce noticed, Thomas observed with a shake of his head.
    “ Do you play, as well?” Thomas once again focused his attention on the now scarlet faced Miss Grey. He thought she meant to ignore the question, so still she remained for long seconds.
    “ My sister is quite accomplished,” Evangeline evaded deftly. “You'll find she has a lovely voice as well.”
    “ If we've all finished?” Opal questioned, rising from the table. “Shall we?”
    Evangeline excused herself quietly, not unnoticed by Thomas. He lingered for a few songs before slipping away in search of her, a strange compulsion demanding he seek her in the wake of his new understanding.
    Cresting the gently rolling knoll, Thomas caught sight of her. She did not look up as he neared, but steadily peered into the underbrush nearby. Without breaking the silence, he stopped, tracking her gaze's path in search of the thing holding her rapt. Thomas frowned, his patience waning. Just as he made to speak, the chatter of a squirrel broke the silence, the agile creature scampering across the dense brush, bushy tail flicking this way and that. A second emerged, peeking through the tangle of thin branches, chattering in what appeared to be a thorough set down. Each stilled in watchful survey before wildly chasing about the dead mass of brush in playful abandon.
    Evangeline's soft laughter halted their revelry, and they darted within the woven cocoon's safety. She sighed, turning to acknowledge his presence at last. “Mr. Masterson,” she tilted her head slightly in question.
    “ Miss Grey,” he allowed, matching her gesture with a quirked lip. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
    She laughed then, an honest, unrestrained song it was. “Yes, sir, I am.”
    “ When you've quite had enough, I'd like to walk with you,” he said easily.
    Her expression darkened, a frown forming.
    “ Miss Grey, if you'll recall, I advised you against frowning,” he stated with a grin.
    “ Oh, I recall it,” she replied. “Something about it not becoming me,” she added boldly. “Please do recall my response, Mr. Masterson, if you can remember so insignificant a conversation.”
    “ Why do you refer to our conversation as insignificant?” he countered, taken aback at her choice of words.
    “ Why would I refer to it as otherwise?”
    Thomas smiled. What a challenge this frank, fiery woman presented - such rousing exchanges of word and wit. He jumped at her question's open invitation. “Because my conversations with you, too few in number to satisfy, are far from insignificant. Intriguing seems a more fitting term.”
    Her frown deepened, and when next she spoke, her voice was eerily soft. “Mr. Masterson, this has gone far enough. You've had your fun. I'll return to the house now. Alone. Please, do not continue your amusement any longer at my expense.” Quiet reprimand at an end, she walked away.
    Thomas stood a moment, her words hitting him harshly. What a fool he was! His reputation had her convinced he merely toyed with her. Setting off after her, Thomas called, “Miss Grey!”
    She ignored him, marching toward home in a rush.
    “ Evangeline, stop.” He threw her given name across the distance, knowing it would garner some reaction.
    She froze a split second before turning on her heel. That steady brown gaze betrayed her fury. “My Christian name upon your lips is an insult I cannot ignore, Mr. Masterson. I may be nothing more than a plain woman – and far too frank in my speech - but that gives you no license to make sport of me.” The hurt of her mother's words, her conflicting emotions toward Thomas, and her anger over her perceived weakness to his charms fueled her outburst, the candid description of self spilling out accidentally.
    He had gained her by then, and looking intently into her angry gaze, Thomas reached for her arms. “Stop,” he said firmly. “I only spoke your