Winterberry Fire: A Silver Foxes of Westminster Novella (Winterberry Park Book 2)(10)

“Oh, no,” Tad said. “You’re so pretty. You’ve always been pretty. It’s not about how much work you’ve been doing or how dirty you are. It’s in your eyes. You have such kind eyes.”

Ada’s brow shot up. Tad had barely said more than three words to her in all the time they’d been working together. “Thank you,” she said again, not knowing what else to say.

They stood there in silence, Tad grinning and Ada growing increasingly restless under his gaze. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she might have to sit the poor young man down and have a talk with him soon. His attentions were flattering, after all, but her heart belonged to another.

At last, when the silence had gone on too long, she cleared her throat and nodded to the paper in his hand. “Your letter?”

“Oh.” Tad flinched. “Right. Here.”

He handed the paper across to her. Ada took it and opened it.

“My dearest A—. I have admired you from afar for these many years.” Ada gasped as she read the letter. She glanced tentatively to Tad, who continued to smile at her like she was the sky on a sunny day. She read on. “You are the sun to my horizon, the ink to my pen.” She peeked at Tad again. It was just as she’d suspected. “Please say you’ll come to the Valentine’s Day dance with me. Perhaps that will be the dawn of a new understanding between us. Yours affectionately, T—.”

Ada slowly folded the letter, keeping her eyes downcast. She cleared her throat, but that didn’t help the bubbling awkwardness in her chest. It was just as she’d feared. “Oh dear,” she sighed.

“I need an answer,” Tad said in a quiet voice. “You know, right away.” He sent her a conspiratorial look.

Heat flooded Ada’s cheeks. She couldn’t very well break the poor man’s heart right there and then. He looked so eager, so happy. It would be cruel to crush his hopes without at least appearing to give the man proper consideration. She didn’t have any firm promises from Tim, after all.

“I need to think about it,” she said at last.

“That’s your answer?” Tad asked, looking only slightly disappointed. That, at least, was encouraging.

“Yes,” she said with as kind a smile as she could muster. “I think…I think it’s only right that I give this matter proper consideration before…before giving you a firm answer.”

“So, that’s your reply?” Tad asked.

Ada blinked. Somehow, the pieces weren’t fitting together exactly right. But she couldn’t figure out what was wrong. “Yes, that’s my reply.”

“Very well, then.” Tad’s smile grew, and he stood straighter, nodding as though she were Mrs. Croydon herself and had just given an order. “Thank you, miss.” Tad fixed her with one last, fond grin, then nodded and left the room.

Ada stood where she was for several seconds. She frowned and scanned the note again. There was nothing in it that hinted she’d read it wrong or gotten an incorrect idea. It was plain as day. Tad had asked her to the Valentine’s Day dance. So why did his response to her answer seem so off?

She turned back to the bookshelf, slipping the note into her pocket and returning to work. One mystery was bad enough, but a second one troubled her even more. How was she going to disappoint Tad gently and avoid hurting his feelings?



Tad strode down the lane, thinking over his encounter with Ada. She’d been pretty as a picture, and quite nice to him. Maybe Mary was right and he should pursue her. He could see the two of them arm in arm, strolling along the river. Or setting up house together. Or…well, whatever it was two sweethearts did. She didn’t seem to be too keen on Mr. Turnbridge’s letter, though, whatever it said. He’d tried to read it, but his reading never was very good. At least he had an answer for Mr. Turnbridge.

But when he reached the shrubs at the end of the lane, Mr. Turnbridge was nowhere to be found.

“Huh.”

Tad turned this way and that, searching in the falling darkness for Mr. Turnbridge. He even went so far as to look inside the shrubs in case the man had fallen in. But he was nowhere to be found.

“Guess he doesn’t care so much what Ada thinks after all,” he said turning back to the path and breaking into a whistled tune as he walked on.

The thought made him smile. If Mr. Turnbridge wasn’t so keen on Ada after all, then what was to keep him from swooping in and making Ada his own? He rather liked the idea. Perhaps he could even convince her to go to the Valentine’s Day dance with him.





Chapter 4





The question of Tad and the dance kept Ada up, tossing and turning, all night. If she were a different sort of woman, more like Mary or Martha, she would have laughed in the young man’s face and told him she wouldn’t be caught dead with the likes of him. But that kind of behavior was cruel. She wouldn’t engage in it. And Tad wasn’t so bad. True, he wasn’t particularly bright, but he was kind and hard-working. He would make some young woman a lovely beau someday. But not her.

She tossed to her other side, looking out the tiny window at the stars. Tim was the man for her. She’d known it since the moment she first met him. He’d only just opened his school then, and the urge to better herself had been too much to resist. She’d marched into town after a long day of work, ready to argue to get her way, only to have Tim show delight at her desire to learn to read.