However, it wasn’t the birds that held Fanella’s attention, but the indoor garden of trees and flowering plants. A fountain tinkled not far away and she followed a potted tree path until she came to a delightful sitting area hidden within the greenery, but with one side open to the windows. How was it possible to be so warm when it was winter on the other side of the glass wall? “This is amazin’.”

  “Those were my thoughts the first time I visited,” Her Grace agreed.

  Lady swooped down and settled beside the three-tiered fountain before she started to bathe in one of the shallow bowls.

  “Well, I should return to the sitting room.” Her Grace started for the door.

  Fanella would have liked to have spent more time within the conservatory, but perhaps she could visit at another time.

  “You two stay here.”

  Fanella balked and glanced to Ethan.

  “Just for a short time, of course, to watch over Rogue and Lady to make certain they get settled.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace. We shouldn’t be long.”

  Had his aunt intentionally meant to leave him alone with Fanella?

  Odd that. Except, once she returned to the sitting room without Fanella, Duncan would be certain to find them.

  “Do ye think it will be warm enough in here for Rogue and Lady?” Fanella asked.

  “The room is heated by the sun as the conservatory faces south, and by the two fireplaces, one at each end. If the orange and lemon trees have not died, then the parrots should be fine.”

  “How lovely it must be to have a room that is warm year-round, almost as if it’s summer all the time.”

  “It’s warm all of the time at home. Cooler, somewhat chilly in December and January but not nearly as cold as England.”

  “I canna imagine,” She sighed.

  Earlier today he’d been about to kiss her before they were interrupted and it was all he could do not to take her lips on the stairway, but now an awkwardness lingered between them, as if they were suddenly uncomfortable with the other.

  “I’m afraid Rogue may not want to return to his cage after living in the conservatory,” she observed.

  Ethan was a bit concerned as well and wondered if that wasn’t his aunt’s plan all along. “I believe she wants them to remain when I leave. She’s grown quite attached to the two.” But, he wasn’t about to give up his parrots for anyone, not even the duchess.

  “We should return,” she muttered, glancing away as if suddenly shy.

  “How are you feeling,” Ethan blurted out. He wasn’t ready to return even though the wisest thing he could do was be in the company of others if Fanella was to be with him also.

  “Feeling?” she frowned.

  “Earlier your head pained you and you were nauseated.”

  She smiled, as if relieved. “I seem to have recovered.”

  “I am glad.”

  “I just hope they doona expect me to drink wine at supper tonight. I’m not certain I ever want to drink it again.”

  Ethan chuckled. He’d sworn off rum for nearly five years because of the way he suffered the following day. Darius still got ill simply from the smell.

  “We should return before my brother comes lookin’ for me.”

  Ethan simply stared at Fanella. “I suppose.”

  Yet, neither of them moved and just as they’d been on the watchtower, their eyes held, except there was no frosty air this time.

  Ethan grew warm and took a step toward Fanella.

  The tip of her tongue darted out, moistening her lips.

  The closer he drew to her, the more her chin tilted so that she could see him better, yet she didn’t take a step back, but remained where she was.

  Was it an invitation? Did she wish to be kissed? If she did not, wouldn’t she retreat?

  As Fanella gazed up at him as if waiting, Ethan lowered his mouth to her lips and brushed them ever so delicately.

  He withdrew to gauge her reaction. The side of her mouth quirked, almost taunting him for offering such a chaste kiss and he succumbed to the unvoiced challenge and kissed her again. This time he molded his mouth to hers and drew her closer. At the parting of her lips, he delved, and Ethan was barely aware of her hands grasping his shoulders, as he was lost in the most delicious melding of mouths that he’d ever experienced.

  The room tilted and he lost all awareness of time or location, wanting only to remain where he was, holding Fanella close, and devouring her.

  “Click, click, click. Ethan kiss Fanella. Squawk.”

  Ethan jerked away and looked for Rogue who sat on the limb of an orange tree only a few feet away.

  “You will not be repeating what you just saw, Rogue. Do you understand me?”

  The damn bird just made kissing sounds in return.

  “I’ll muzzle you. I swear I will,” he warned.

  “Ethan kiss Fanella. Squawk.” Then he flew off.

  Bloody hell!

  “Can ye muzzle a bird?” Fanella asked.

  “I’m not certain, but I’ll find a way if he doesn’t keep his beak closed.”

  Chapter 10

  Fanella nearly floated on air as they returned to the sitting room. Ethan had kissed her. Not only kissed, but consumed and took, searing her soul in a manner she never dreamed possible. Had Rogue not spoken, they might still be kissing.

  “There ye are.” Duncan strode toward them. “Ye were gone longer than ye shoulda been.”

  “We only waited to make certain Rogue and Lady were settled,” she assured her brother.

  “Ye shouldna have been alone,” Duncan warned Ethan.

  Goodness, her brother was being ridiculous. Of course, she’d never tell anyone that Ethan had kissed her, and she prayed Rogue didn’t either.

  The only thing that did concern Fanella, however, was that Ethan had said nothing to her afterwards, only that they needed to return to the others.

  Was he sorry for having kissed her?

  “The chocolate should keep everyone warm when they are outside,” she heard Her Grace announce as they entered the sitting room. Within were the Grants, MacGregors and who Fanella assumed were the rest of the Copelands. She’d learned that Ethan was one of his six siblings visiting from America.

  “Why is everyone going outside?” Ethan asked.

  “To fetch mistletoe,” Her Grace answered brightly.

  The castle was full of servants and Fanella assumed they’d be the ones doing the decorating. Not that she minded being outdoors, but she’d never had to retrieve mistletoe before. It wasn’t even found in Scotland. At least not in Falkirk.

  “Claresta knows where it can usually be found and will lead you there. The servants have set out ladders, saws, sacks and anything else you might need.” Her Grace sipped from her cup of chocolate. “When you return, more chocolate will be prepared and I’m certain Cook will have delicious treats.”

  “Come along, Donovan,” Lady Claresta grinned up at her betrothed. “You mentioned that you’d never gathered mistletoe and I plan on filling the castle with it.”

  “I think that is an excellent idea,” Donovan agreed and hurried to follow her.

  “What is so important about mistletoe?” Fanella quietly asked Duncan, who remained by her side.

  “Nothing that concerns ye.” Then he looked to Ethan. “Or he.”

  “You don’t hang mistletoe in your home?” Constance asked of Jesse.

  “Nay,” she answered. “I know that some people do, I just doona ken why.”

  “It is meant to bring good luck to a home and ward off evil spirits,” Constance explained. “Somehow kissing got mixed up in all the good luck.”

  “As long as ye arena doin’ the kissin’ I doona care who is,” Duncan warned Fanella quietly.

  “Does that mean I can?” Jesse grinned up at her brother.

  “Do not tempt me to send ye home, lass.”

  Jesse rolled her eyes. “Come along Constance. We’ll gather our own mistletoe. Perhaps it will bring us good luck, as it canna bring me anythin’ else.”

  Ethan had cut down his fair share of mistletoe since his father insisted on having it in the house. As none of his siblings had married, or truly courted anyone for that matter, it had only been his father and mother who kissed beneath it. Further, they did not have so much in the house. Only above the entrance to the parlor and dining room, unlike the amount Claresta and Donovan insisted was needed for the castle. There was nearly already enough to hang in every entryway. One would need to be quick about their entrances and exits so as not to be caught.

  And, he certainly wouldn’t be catching Fanella beneath a sprig, as that would earn him trouble from her older brothers, especially Duncan.

  Further, he feared where it might lead.

  He’d meant the kiss earlier to be chaste, simple. A need to put it behind him so he could concentrate on other matters. He had assumed that once it was done, the desire to kiss Fanella would leave him. Instead, it inflamed him. Had Rogue not spoken, who knew how much longer they would have kissed and what else he might have attempted?

  Fanella was sweetness, passion and joy, a combination that could bring a man to his knees.

  Ethan wanted Fanella, and although he barely knew her, he wanted her nonetheless and it would be his downfall if he didn’t lessen his time in her presence.

  He reached the top of the ladder and then climbed onto a limb. They’d have to climb higher if they were going to retrieve all the necessary mistletoe, but it was good that he was up here and not down there near Fanella or he might be tempted to kiss her again.

  Bloody hell. He didn’t know her. He’d met her yesterday, yet deep inside, he knew her.

  They were feelings he couldn’t explain and if he were in New Orleans, he would be visiting Madame Gabaroche for a reading. His mother feared the mystics, psychics and tarot readers, but Ethan did not. Life on the plantation and in New Orleans had a certain energy beyond simple comprehension that could not be ignored, even if most of his family wished to do so.

  He believed, and Ethan wished Madame Gabaroche were here now, if only to set his mind and heart at ease.

  Some of their servants practiced voodoo, not that Ethan was all that knowledgeable of the religion, but they were careful not to do so around Mother and only at the back of their cabins where it could not be seen from the main house. Mother may have followed Father from Virginia to Kentucky and then to New Orleans, but she did fear the unknown as well. The religious practice by her servants scared Mother and out of respect for the family, they kept their practices to themselves.

  His world was so foreign to what Fanella knew and even though Ethan desired her, he could not kiss her again, no matter what. To do so could force her brother’s hand and see him married and as he would not remain in England, she’d need to travel to his home. His concern was that Fanella might be just as afraid as his mother.

  Why was he thinking about Fanella and New Orleans as if the two could belong together when Ethan knew that it was impossible.

  With that determination, he lifted his stick to pull the mistletoe away, removing it from the tree just as he intended to remove Fanella from his thoughts.

  Chapter 11

  After they returned from gathering the mistletoe and setting it out to dry, they joined Her Grace for the promised chocolate and delicacies. There was also brandy for the men, however, Ethan had disappeared. Fanella had watched for him, but he didn’t return, nor had he bid anyone goodbye. He simply disappeared.

  Though Fanella tried not to let it bother her, disappointment lingered, then despair that she’d done something wrong, especially when Ethan didn’t appear at supper or to play cards later in the evening. The following day, breakfast, luncheon and supper came a second time without Ethan’s presence. Then, yesterday had been the same. If she didn’t know better, Fanella would have assumed he’d left. Instead he was avoiding her. Or, perhaps it was everyone.

  That night in the dungeon, when they’d shared wine, Ethan had said that he disappeared, and his family wouldn’t think it odd if they didn’t see him for hours.

  Except, it hadn’t been just hours, it had been days. As Constance, nor her brothers or sisters seemed concerned, Fanella assumed Ethan was unharmed.

  He’d also stated that he couldn’t abide crowds. Did that mean that Ethan intended to stay in hiding until after the guests had departed…until she too was gone?

  It was now the third day since Fanella had seen Ethan last. She lingered over her tea and breakfast and waited. But apparently Ethan Copeland did not need to eat and could go days without sustenance. Of course, he could also be taking a tray in his chamber, though it was terribly rude of him to do so, unless he were ill.

  Once again Fanella glanced at Ethan’s siblings, who were quite animated in their discussions with Claresta and Donovan, as if they didn’t have a care in the world. If their brother was languishing of an illness or injury, they’d not be so carefree, would they?

  Then again, they were Americans…No, a family member ailing brought concern no matter where that family happened to live. She assumed they’d worry in America just as they’d worry here.

  Was Ethan avoiding her? Had he taken Duncan’s threats seriously?

  Had her kissing been so poor that he could no longer look at her?

  Humiliation engulfed Fanella at the very idea, and if it were the truth, how could she face him again, or ever allow anyone else to kiss her in the future. Not that there was anyone else she wished to kiss, but if she’d been so abhorrent, then she would never participate in the act again no matter how bonny the man.

  Who was she fooling? Even if he was the most handsome bachelor in all of England and Scotland, Fanella still would not wish to kiss him. There was only one man she’d give that honor, but she was so bad at it that he now avoided her.

  Ethan, on the other hand, kissed divinely, warming her to the tips of her toes, but now she was all the colder for experiencing the heat. Was she to crash to the ground and be ruined for all others, just as Icarus had been destroyed because he flew too close to the sun?

  As the happiness and chatter in the breakfast room wore on her, Fanella excused herself. She wished to be as happy as everyone else. After all, it was soon to be Christmas and then Donovan would marry Claresta, but Fanella could find no joy in her heart and she feared it might not return if Ethan truly had disappeared from her life.

  She even lacked interest in exploring more of the castle.

  How could her desires and excitement for one thing be dimmed in a matter of days?

  Distraught, she wove her way through the castle until she came to the conservatory. At least Rogue would be good company. He called her pretty lady and fetching. It didn’t matter that he complimented every woman, right now she needed the compliment.

  Instead, she found Ethan in the center of the room while the two birds flew about, screeching, almost as if they were squabbling with each other.

  “Close the door,” Ethan yelled. “I can’t risk one of them escaping.”

  Fanella did so but remained within. “What is wrong with them?”

  “I don’t know. They’ve never behaved like this.”

  Perhaps Rogue and Lady had been keeping Ethan’s attention these past few days and it had nothing to do with her. “How long have they been like this?”

  “It started last night. I just wish I knew why they seemed to hate each other right now.”

  Disappointment settled once again since the birds couldn’t be blamed for the first two days of his absence.

  “Rogue even bit me,” Ethan complained, though worry laced his voice. “He’s never done so before.”

  “What of Lady?” Fanella glided further into the conservatory.

  “She’s behaved the same but hasn’t come near me.”

  Fanella glanced about, from one bird to the other when she noticed the floor. “Are those feathers?”

  “Yes,” Ethan sighed. “When Rogue started plucking them, I called him over to make certain that he wasn’t ill. That’s when he bit me and flew away.”

  As Lady sat not far away, Fanella slowly approached so that she could view the parrot, but she didn’t get within a foot of her before Rogue flew at her. If Ethan hadn’t pulled her out of the way, Fanella may have been bitten as well.

  “Goodness,” she gasped. “It’s as if he’s protectin’ her.”

  “Come.” He tugged on her arm to move them both further away before either of them was attacked.

  “I thought they liked it in the conservatory.”

  “I as well.” Ethan pushed his fingers through his light brown hair. “Their diet hasn’t changed, only their location.” Then he frowned. “Unless it’s the light…I’ve covered their cage when it’s time to sleep, but obviously cannot do so in here.” He did a turn, taking in the room. “It’s been colder of late and besides the fireplaces, lamps have been lit in the evening, so it is nearly as bright as day and warm too.” He looked at Fanella and frowned. “Is it possible they’ve not gotten enough sleep? Perhaps I should ask the servants to turn the lamps down earlier in the evening than they have been.”

  As she knew nothing of parrots, all Fanella could do was shrug.

  “This is maddening,” he ground out in frustration. “Neither are behaving as they should and I can’t approach to make certain they are not ill or injured without risk of harm to myself.”

  “They doona seem injured or ill,” Fanella observed. “Just a bit angry.” She smiled. “Do parrots have marital tiffs? They are behavin’ as an old married couple who is unhappy with each other.”

  Ethan stared at her for a moment, then started to chuckle. “Maybe they’ve been together too long and just need to work this out.”

  “It’s possible. Though until they calm, ye willna ken for certain.” She truly hoped it was something as simple as an argument, if birds experienced such emotions.

  Ethan glanced down at Fanella. He’d managed to avoid her for nearly three days, but it hadn’t cured him from thinking about her almost constantly. No good could come of him wanting her and it was best to keep his distance. Yet, here she was, and he yearned to hold her in his arms.