Page 6 of The Earl That Got Away (Sirens in Silk #2)

Chapter Five

Before

Philadelphia

M ajida and Hamda both eyed Naila when she rejoined them.

“Where were you?” Majida asked, her permanent frown in place.

“I was hot.” She darted a look behind her to see if the stranger had followed her. “I stepped out for some fresh air.”

Majida sniffed the air. “What is that odor? Is something burning?”

Naila inched away from her aunt. Why hadn’t she realized they’d detect smoke on her? “I don’t smell anything.”

“Did you go out alone?” Cousin Hamda asked her. “ Habibti , you can’t go outside by yourself. Maybe they let you do that in Brooklyn but here we don’t allow binatna to go off on their own.”

“ Ya khrib-bait-itch, ” Majida snapped at her cousin. “May God ruin your house. How dare you insinuate that we don’t look after our unmarried girls?”

Hamda’s son, Eyad, approached. He was a kind and fun-loving young man a couple of years older than Naila. “Would you like to dance with me, Cousin Naila?”

She happily took his arm. “Thank you for rescuing me,” she said when they were out of earshot. “All they do is argue.”

He laughed. “They drive each other mad, yet they can’t seem to stay away from each other. They write to each other several times a week when you are home in New York.”

“I don’t understand it.” She tried to keep a little distance as Eyad took her into his arms. She didn’t want him close enough to smell the cigarette smoke.

Happily putting the argumentative aunties and the stranger in the garden out of her mind, she gave herself over to the music.

The tune moved through her body. Her legs always seemed to have a mind of their own once the dance notes started.

“It was very nice of your employer to include us.” Eyad’s employer was the evening’s host.

“Mr. Linton is a fine man. He has no wife and children so he has embraced me and my family as his own. He dines with us every Thursday.”

“That is lovely of your mother to include him.”

“When the dance is over, I’ll introduce you to Mr. Linton, if you don’t mind,” Eyad said as the music drew to a close.

“Why would I mind? I enjoy meeting new people.”

Eyad led her over to a balding, round-faced older man with ruddy cheeks. A slim young man with chestnut-colored curls stood with him. Naila’s eyes widened.

“What a pleasure to meet Eyad’s cousin,” Mr. Linton said effusively. “Miss Darwish, allow me to introduce my nephew, Basil Trevelyn, who is visiting from England. Basil, this is Miss Darwish of New York.”

Naila would always remember the first time she saw Basil in the full light.

In the garden shadows, she’d gotten the impression of a handsome man.

And he was. But Inglese was much more than that.

His laughing eyes met hers and she saw that they were a slate gray.

His hair, which had appeared dark, was actually a burnished chestnut.

His distantly polite gaze met hers, and yet humor flickered in those polished steel depths.

“How do you do?” In the garden, he’d spoken in low intimate tones. Now his confident rich baritone waved through her like a melody she ached to dance to. “I hope you are you enjoying Philadelphia.”

“Very much so.” She could feel the flush in her cheeks and hoped it wasn’t obvious to the others. “And you?” she asked politely, “how are you enjoying your visit to America?”

He smiled, deep dimples carving into each cheek. “More and more by the moment.”

She resisted the urge to grin at him, and instead cast her eyes downward in a show of polite modesty. This was turning into a most entertaining evening.

Eyad sniffed the air. “What is that smoke smell?” He looked toward Naila, recognition dawning.

“That must be me. My apologies,” Basil said. “I was out in the garden smoking.”

Eyad shot Naila a dubious look. “Ah,” he said to Basil, “that explains it.”

“Perhaps Miss Darwish will honor me with the next dance?” Basil spoke in a politely distant manner as though they truly were complete strangers. Even though he already felt like a friend.

Naila wanted nothing more. “I would love to dance.”

He offered his arm to escort her onto the assembly room floor.

Excitement fluttered through her. And when she took his hand, the hair on her arms lifted, the warmth of him sliding along her skin.

His other hand settled lightly at her back, strong and firm, encasing her in his protective hold.

She closed her eyes at the sensation, her breath hitching.

What she’d felt in the garden was no anomaly.

“I thought you were lovely in the garden. But I hope you will permit me to say that you are even more beautiful in the light.”

“Thank you.” Her cheeks heated. “Ayounik il hilween.”

“I beg your pardon?”

She flushed even more. “In Arabic, when someone compliments your looks, we say ‘ Ayounik il hilween ,’ which means that the eyes that are looking at me are beautiful.”

He blinked. “That is rather lovely.”

“Arabic tends to be a flowery language.”

“I was worried I’d scared you off in the garden.”

“I don’t scare that easily,” she replied, with more confidence and self-assurance than she felt. Inglese put her off-balance in a way no other boy ever had.

The steel in his eyes gleamed. “I’m very glad to hear it.”

They moved to the music. He led her expertly, but it was immediately apparent that Basil was not a natural dancer. Yet, somehow, it felt completely natural to be in this man’s arms.

“Thank goodness you are here,” she said. “I was beginning to be very bored by Philadelphia.”

Amusement lit his face. “Do you always say exactly what is on your mind?”

“To my mother’s everlasting regret,” she returned.

“I much prefer a woman who speaks her mind.”

“Do you? My mother is certain men prefer quiet, docile girls.”

“Not this man,” he said guiding her through an extravagant twirl along the floorboards.

“Oh!” she said, delighted. “Even though you are not a natural dancer, you still move wonderfully.”

His brow lifted. “I cannot parse whether that’s a compliment or an insult.”

“It is not an insult,” she reassured him. “Natural dancers feel the music in their body. It moves through them.”

“I cannot say that happens to me.”

“But you still lead beautifully, a learned skill, which is much more difficult than having it come naturally.”

“You certainly have the ability to twist things around so that perceived insults become compliments.”

“Why, Mr. Trevelyn, I do believe you are fishing for a compliment.”

“Not at all.” He smiled. “I am merely seeking to clarify your position.”

She returned his smile. “I do hope I will see you again,” she said. “Otherwise I’m bound to be dreadfully bored.”

“I live to entertain,” he said. “And fortunately, I believe my uncle mentioned dining at your aunt’s home this Thursday evening. He says it is a standing engagement he has with your family.”

“Yes, that’s right!” Delight slid through her at the idea of seeing Basil again. “Eyad mentioned that Mr. Linton comes to dinner every week.”

“I wasn’t exactly looking forward to going,” he said, “but now I cannot wait.”

She grinned up at him. “Neither can I.”