Chapter Eight

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“We can only hope.”

The next morning I walked into the dining room and found that Abel was not there, maybe Ethan had actually managed to give him a heart attack! I sat down at my normal seat and drummed my fingers on the table. Ethan waltzed into the dining room, a rose in his hand.

“For you my lady,” he sang, dipping down in a bow and handing me the rose. I smiled and took it from his hand, avoiding the thorns.

“Why thank you good sir,” I giggled.

“So, where is my father this morning, busy plotting his next cradle robbing?” Ethan asked. Franny backed out of the kitchen, a platter of food in her hands.

“You take that back, Ethan Hastings.” She snapped, setting down our plates in front of us. She smacked Ethan with a towel and retreated into the kitchen.

“Or what Franny?” He called after her. “He’ll threaten to send me away again?” Ethan laughed and began to eat his food.

“Don’t tempt him,” I muttered, convulsing at the thought of kissing Abel in his bedroom that night.

“You must have said something to him,” Ethan said, looking up at me.

“I didn’t have to say anything,” I whispered.

“Wait, you actually did say something to him? You’re the reason I’m here? I figured he’d just thought better of it or something.” Ethan’s eyes widened as he spoke quickly.

“It was nothing,” I assured him, trying to smile.

“Tell me,”

“No.” I snapped.

“Tell me, what happened?” Ethan demanded.

“Do you really want me to tell you the truth?” I sighed.

“Always,” Ethan replied.

“Abel isn’t a man who can be persuaded with words, is that good enough?” I asked.

“He made you—“

“It’s not what you’re thinking, I believe he has a little respect for me.”

“Well then what did you do? And don’t you dare lie to me, I never want you to lie to me.”

“I kissed him.” I muttered shortly.

“Well was it a just a kiss or was it a—kiss.” Ethan asked. He scrunched up his nose as he said kiss in a child like voice. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“So it wasn’t that sort of kiss?” Ethan demanded, smiling from ear to ear.

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