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Xavier snorted again.“I’m not doing it.You do it.”

“Ha, you’re scared of her.”

“I’m smart enough to recognize a powerful woman,” he said with a shrug.

Annie eyed him with displeasure.“You keep saying stuff that makes you hotter.”

Xavier sat forward, reaching for Annie’s thigh under the table.

Only to immediately snatch his hand back as the interior door opened with the same shocking speed as the front door had.Mary preceded Colum into the room.

“—be thinking you wouldn’t find it out here with a culchie,” she said, as she returned to the table.

“I’m not a Dub by birth.My people are from Galway.”

“But you moved up there to the city.”She sniffed in disapproval as she poured tea from the tray Colum set down and passed out cups.“It’s the way of it now, our young people leaving.Milk?”

“A drop, please,” Colum said, and Mary poured milk into his tea.

“The same for me, please,” Annie said, when the milk jug tipped her direction.

Xavier tried to shake his head, but Mary pursed her lips.“You’ll be wanting milk, or are you planning not to drink the tea?”

He’d been planning not to drink the tea.

“I don’t normally drink tea.”He shot her his best self-deprecating smile.“But I would hate to miss out on something so lovely.”He gestured to the tea set.“I’ll have it however you recommend.”

Mary’s eyes narrowed at his words, and Xavier realized this was the first time he’d spoken, so the first time she’d heard his accent.He braced for a rude remark.

Instead, she said, “Well you’re a fine thing, aren’t you?Bet you’ve a tongue that would pick a lock.”

Xavier took a minute to process that.“Thank you?”

Mary sniffed, pouring milk into his tea.He was waiting for her to take a seat so they could start the conversation they’d come here for, but Mary left again, patting Colum as she passed, which was apparently a signal as he got up and followed her.They returned with half a dozen plates—Colum’s face as he carried four of them, half balanced on his forearms, was enough to make Xavier rub his lips to hide the smile.

Finally, Mary sat—after serving each of them a few small sandwiches, a slice of grainy brown bread spread with butter, and a fluffy scone already cut in half with a layer of cream and jam in the middle.

Xavier took a bite of the scone and froze.

It was soft and buttery, sweet from the jam, and the cream was silky on his tongue.

Mary Balcombe was a widow.Would she marry him and make him scones?Failing that, would she adopt him?

Annie kicked him under the table.“Fix your face,” she hissed.

“What?”He tried the deceptively simple tomato and cheese sandwich and nearly wept.

“You’re making a sex face.”

Xavier cut his eyes to Mary, who was speaking to Colum in…not English?Xavier didn’t even care.

“Do you think she’ll marry me?”Xavier asked Annie, moaning as he tried the other sandwich, some kind of salmon with fresh herbs.

“Get in line, I’m marrying her.I could learn to do farm chores if I got to eat like this.”Annie jumped, head turning to glare at Colum, who’d clearly kicked her again.“Next time, you sit next to him,” she muttered to Xavier.

Given Colum’s strained posture and the way he was gripping the cup, he wanted out of the one-on-one conversation.

Xavier leaned forward.“Mary, this is the most beautiful scone I’ve ever eaten.”