Page 12 of Song of the Dawn
Instead, I walked toward him, reminded of my audition and the blue and gold in the shadows. “Did you ask Ginger to send me out here to meet you?”
“No.” He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it. “But afternoons are usually slow. Will you join me for a turn about the gardens?” He held out his arm, as if I was a lady he was escorting to a ball.
Suddenly I became intensely aware of his height and our proximity, but there was nothing wrong with walking the gardens with him. Cautiously, I placed my hand on his arm.
Pulling me closer, he cocked his head. “You seem uneasy.”
I recalled the way his cheek had brushed against mine when he’d carried my groceries up to the flat, and a need to know gripped me. “Why did you come?”
“What do you mean?”
“Back in Solynn. Why were you outside my door? You could have sent anyone, a messenger, or let the letter go through the post, but…” I trailed off, my thoughts jumbled.
“I had business in the city, and I enjoy music. Your performance swayed me to make the offer. Besides, I prefer to meet potential members of the staff face-to-face before hiring them. It helps me insure they are who they say they are.”
So it had been him at the symphony hall. Frowning, I pressed on. “You didn’t introduce yourself, though, or ask me anything of consequence.”
“I didn’t need to.” Pausing in front of a white gate, he took my hand in his before continuing in his low, smooth tones, “I have a unique ability to read people and sense their intent. I did not sense any ill intent toward me or this inn.”
My hand was warm in his, too warm, and I wanted to snatch it away, but I discerned he was giving me clarity. Plunging onward, I said the first thing that came to mind. “What did you sense?”
His lips tilted in the same manner they had earlier, as though he was about to tease me. “From you? Excitement, frustration, some anger, a hint of anxiety, determination, and anticipation.”
“All that?” I stared. “Who are you?”
He shrugged. “Ezra.”
“No, your ability, it’s unusual. Have you always had it?”
“Always.”
Those one-word answers were not satisfying. Wiggling my hand out of his grasp, I turned to the gate, which came just higher than my waist. “You’re only making me more curious.”
“Good, that is the point,” he teased as he unlatched the gate.
“How do I get to know you if you won’t answer my questions?”
“Oh, you want to get to know me?”
I blushed then, grateful my dark skin prevented him from seeing it. I’d involuntarily started flirting with him again. Worst of all, it was so easy. Unable to make eye contact, I gazed at the gardens. They were idyllic. Daffodils, petunias, poppies, and bluebells waved in the breeze. A twinkling stream of water warbled alongside a stone path before bending out of sight. Ezra held open the gate, giving me a playful bow as I walked inside.
For a moment, I wished he weren’t there, because joy welled up so strongly it almost choked me. I strolled down the stone path, thinking of Mother and how happy she’d be to walk through gardens like this. Benches sat in the grass, an ideal spot to sit, dream, paint, or even play. I could bring my violin out here and allow nature to inspire me.
A path curved further into the gardens, but magnificent trees and thick bushes hid the full view of them. Clasping my hands together, I spun to Ezra, who shut the gate behind him. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. This is a retreat. I’d spend all day in these gardens if I could.”
“I’m sure you’ll spend many days here,” he echoed, a lower note in his tone.
He stood by the gate, arms crossed, watching me. Although his gaze was calm, a darkening in his eyes gave me pause. My breath came quick, reminding me of my decision not to flirt with my employer. Pivoting back to the gardens, I ignored whatever had passed silently between us.
“If you come here early, just after dawn, no one will be around,” Ezra explained. “It’s about five miles from end to end, but you can wander different paths or sit and read. There’s a pond in the very center, where the ducks and turtles swim. I sneak them bits of bread.” He chuckled. “The swans built a nest by the pond this year, and they fiercely protect it. Their young will hatch soon.”
I refused to look at him, keeping my gaze focused on the greenery, because despite my reservations, a tiny seed of desire had been planted.
“The peacocks live at the far end of the gardens. They are usually calm unless provoked, but during mating season, they are ruthless. Beautiful, though, with their feathers. Namen, the seamstress in the village, comes to collect them for her unique gowns.”
“All this is yours?” I confirmed, facing him again. “It is very generous of you to share it instead of keeping it to yourself.”
His brows lifted in surprise. “I hadn’t considered…it’s natural to share my land, to let others come here for some peace or amusement.”
