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Yet, as Nic swept his gaze around the room, he noticed something odd.

While Mr. Jacobs clapped along with the others, his smile seemed forced, strained at the edges.

There was a flicker of something beneath the surface—perhaps jealousy, perhaps something more.

It was a subtle reminder that despite the warmth of the moment, not everyone’s intentions were as pure as they seemed.

But for now, the room was filled with warmth, and Nic allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction. He had not only saved the performance but made Tabitha happy—and for reasons he couldn’t quite grasp, that was enough.

“Oh, that was just beautiful,” Mrs. Burls said. “Your voices are heavily together. My birthday is now complete.”

He smiled at the older woman and nodded. “I must agree. Your niece has a very lovely voice.”

Nic still wanted to wring Frederick’s neck, but at least the initial surge of anger had subsided.

His cousin couldn’t have possibly known that Tabitha would be asked to sing that particular song.

What luck, though, that she was musically inclined.

Was she naturally gifted, or had she received singing lessons?

It struck him as odd, since she was a maid, like her mother before her—and maids didn’t typically have the luxury of formal music instruction.

Yet there was something about her voice, so pure and practiced, that suggested otherwise.

As the gift-giving resumed, he stepped back, allowing the room to flow around him.

He watched as Tabitha moved back to her quiet spot, standing by herself.

For a moment, she seemed distracted, watching Sally move through the crowd with a tray of food.

But then, slowly, Tabitha’s gaze shifted toward him.

This time, when their eyes met, the curiosity and suspicion that had lingered in her expression earlier were gone.

In their place was something warmer—gratitude.

Nic let out a slow, pent-up sigh. The tension that had gripped him all evening began to melt away. He marveled at the simple fact that he had actually enjoyed singing with her—relished it, even.

Why had he allowed Lady Anna Rutledge to take this from him all those years ago?

He had been young and foolish back then, and her rejection had left an indelible mark on his mind.

The shame and humiliation had driven him to shut down that part of himself, to guard his heart so fiercely that he turned to the reckless life of a rogue.

It had been easier to embrace the fleeting pleasures of life, never lingering long enough to risk that kind of pain again.

But now, for the first time in years, he felt something shift.

The joy he had experienced with Tabitha during that brief duet tugged at the locked doors of his heart.

The question arose, quietly but insistently: could it be possible to find a good woman to share his life with, to open himself to love and family, without the fear of rejection haunting him again?

For now he pushed the thought aside, but he couldn’t deny the flicker of hope that had begun to grow.

After the gifts were opened, the crowd began mingling again. Refreshments were on the table in the corner of the room. He wanted to get a bite to eat, but more than anything he wanted a drink. Whiskey, in fact, and not the watered-down sort. Unfortunately, he wasn’t going to find that here.

As Nic made his way toward the refreshment table, guests frequently stopped him, offering compliments on his singing.

Many remarked how much stronger his voice had become, noting they couldn’t recall him ever singing so well in church before.

What have I done? A ripple of panic rose within him.

Frederick had a decent singing voice, sure—but clearly not good enough, since most of the townspeople had noticed the difference.

His thoughts wandered as he scanned the room, searching for Tabitha.

There she was, standing among a small group of guests.

Her cheeks were flushed with color as she laughed at something someone said, her expression bright and warm.

But when he saw Mr. Jacobs leaning on his crutch beside her, Nic narrowed his gaze.

Even from across the room, he could tell Jacobs had set his sights on her—she was likely to be his next attempt at finding a wife.

A bitter taste settled on Nic’s tongue. He wasn’t sure if it was the thought of Jacobs wooing Tabitha or simply the sudden realization that he really needed a strong drink. Either way, the discomfort created a fire in his belly.

Finally reaching the table, he surveyed the array of refreshments. Everything looked delicious, though in truth, he wasn’t picky when it came to food. Just as he reached for a plate, someone moved beside him, and his arm lightly bumped against another. He turned, startled by the unexpected contact.

“Oh, forgive me—” He paused, staring into the most amazing eyes he’d ever seen.

Tabitha gasped and withdrew her arm. “No, it was my fault, entirely. Please excuse me, Mr. Woodland.”

He reached over and grabbed a plate, then handed it to her. “Here you are, Miss Tabitha. I’m assuming this was what you were after?”

“Yes.”

“Do you mind if I chat with you while I fix my plate?”

She laughed. “Of course not. Why would I mind?”

“Splendid.” He picked up a plate for himself. “I have noticed you are making friends quickly. These people are very kind, don’t you agree?”

“Indeed, I do, Mr. Woodland.”

Silence stretched between them as they placed food items on their plates. Tabitha kept glancing his way, but only briefly. Finally, she cleared her throat and faced him.

“Mr. Woodland, I really need to thank you for saving me earlier. I have never been placed in that kind of situation, and, well…I wasn’t sure how to act.”

“I could tell how uncomfortable you were. Believe it or not, I hadn’t planned on singing the song, so when I belted out the words, it rather shocked me as well.”

She shrugged. “I couldn’t tell. You have a very lovely singing voice.”

“As do you.” He tilted his head, staring deeper into her eyes. “Tell me, where did you learn to sing? I assure you, I have not heard a more exquisite voice before—and being a clergyman, I have had the privilege to hear a lot of people sing.” He winked.

She stared at him blankly for a few awkward seconds before her expression turned to suspicion. He sucked in a quick breath. What had he done? Did she finally recognize the man talking to her now?