11. Butterfly

Brand’s eyes lit up with each new space I showed him. The second floor was dedicated to the library and had a gas-burning fireplace, big comfy chairs to sit in and read, and a breathtaking view of the gardens.

I waited while he perused the shelves of books. “These are all yours, then?” he asked.

“Some are mine. I kept quite a few from my grandmother’s collection.”

“Tell me about her.”

“She was just as you’d imagine, being in this place. She was fine.”

I picked up a photo from one of the shelves. It was of her and her sister, taken by a professional photographer when they were in their late teens. “My grandfather adored her. Said it was love at first sight when he met her.”

I picked up another of the two of them together on their wedding day. “I barely remember him. The smell of tobacco always makes me think of him, though. It seemed he was never without his pipe.”

Brand stood beside me. “You look just like her.”

“Do I? I don’t see it.”

He took the photo from my hand and led me to the window. “Look at your reflection.”

“Wow,” I murmured. “I guess I kind of do.”

“You have the same taste in men as well.”

I looked from Brand’s reflection to my grandfather. They did resemble each other. Even though the photograph was in black and white, I knew my grandfather had sandy-blond hair, like Brand did. They also had vivid gray-green eyes. Physically, Brand was a bit taller and far more muscular, but I could see the similarities.

He handed the frame back to me. “I suppose I shouldn’t have said that.”

I shrugged a shoulder. “It’s true.”

He returned to the bookcase, and when I saw what he pulled out, I smiled.

“The Agony and the Ecstasy,”he said.

“One of my favorites. Then again, Michelangelo always has been.” I winked. “Shall we continue on? You’re welcome to spend as much time here as you’d like, of course.”

“Right. You said something about choosing a room.”

“There are two nearly identical ones on the third floor. They each have en-suite baths, walk-in closets, and big fluffy beds.”

He raised a brow.

“I used to jump on them when I was a kid.”

“But not anymore?”

I felt my cheeks flush. “Sometimes, when the tribe visits.”

“What’s on the fourth floor?” he asked.

“The primary bedroom suite.”

“The entire floor?”

“My grandmother wanted what she wanted, and my grandfather made sure she got it. Would you, um, like to see it?”

“Very much so, but not tonight. And the fifth floor?”

“It was originally for live-in staff, but it makes great guest quarters. There are two bedrooms, a kitchenette, and two full bathrooms.”

We were standing in the hallway between the two third-floor rooms. Brand reached out and ran his hand over the painted wood panels that lined the walls.

“Push,” I told him, and he did.

“What’s this?”

“Hidden storage. Similar shelves line the entire hallway on either side.”

He turned in a circle. “That’s quite a lot of storage.”

“There’s more in the cellar. Oh, by the way, that’s where the laundry is located. There’s also another entertainment space and a bathroom down there.”

“One could certainly lose their way.”

I led him into the front bedroom. “Not really. Just look across to the other town houses, and you’ll see which floor you’re on.”

Brand chuckled. “Had to do that a time or two yourself?”

“Something like that,” I muttered, stepping away to read the text message on my phone. When I looked up, he was gone.

“Brand?” I called out when I didn’t see him in the back bedroom. “Where did you disappear to?”

I heard the elevator ding and watched the light change on the floor-indicator panel. When it stopped on the fifth, I raced up the stairs.

“Here you are,” I said, surprised to see him setting his bag down. “I thought you’d take one of the ones on the third floor.”

He shook his head. “More privacy up here.”

“Oh.” I was confused by his sudden change in demeanor. “Wherever you’re most comfortable.”

“That would be here, and as you said, I should get some rest.”

“Sure,” I mumbled as I turned around to take the stairs back down, feeling dismissed.

“As I said, no need to trouble yourself for dinner. I may sleep straight through.”

That wouldn’t be happening, but I didn’t need to tell him so now. He’d find out for himself later.

Tara told me Brand could be moody, but this was the first time I’d witnessed it. What surprised me was how abruptly the change came about. It seemed to have happened when I checked the message on my phone. It was something he did from time to time too, so I don’t know why it would upset him. Maybe he thought I should share what it said, but I couldn’t. At least not yet.

I couldn’t let his surly demeanor sidetrack me, though. I was sure that after he got some rest, he’d be in a better state of mind. And if he wasn’t, the surprise I had in store for him would do the trick.

I spentthe remainder of the morning putting the menu together. I’d decided what to serve as the main course earlier when I told Brand I knew his favorite—Linguine alle Vongole. Fortunately, it was easy to get fresh clams only a few blocks away, at the fish market.

I could get everything else I needed in the same area, between the produce market and the bakery. I’d have the wine delivered, but the rest, I wanted to choose for myself.

Rather than risk waking Brand by telling him I was leaving, I placed a note on the kitchen counter, then set out to get what I needed for his birthday surprise.