“If you mean omens, no, there isn’t a helpful trail of magpies.”

“Keep looking.”

“It’s not like that. I can’t conjure them up—”

“Then don’t look. Observe.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged. When my gaze moved left, he said, “That way, then.”

“I don’t see anything that way.”

“But you feel as if you should.” He strode around the side of the house. “You see, but you do not observe. The distinction is clear.”

“I hate it when you do that.”

“No, I don’t think you do.”

We rounded the side of the house to see a collection of small buildings.

“And this is . . . ?” Gabriel asked.

“The service court. Stables over there and there.” I pointed to the crumbling buildings. “Servants’ quarters around back.”

“And that?” He nodded toward a long narrow building lined with copper doors. “They look like garages.”

“They are. Twenty of them, built in a day when few people could afford cars. An obscene luxury . . . though admittedly, one I can appreciate.”

We walked to the garages. Most of the windows in those fancy copper doors had been smashed and some of the doors themselves were ripped open, revealing only debris inside.

“Not terribly exciting,” I said. “And I’m not picking up so much as a twinge to tell me where to go next. Any more Holmes quotes for me?”

His brows arched. “Is that who I was quoting?”

“You know damned well you were. Not for the first time.”

“It is entirely accidental.”

“Right, so you’ve never read Sherlock Holmes? Or seen any of the endless movies and TV shows?”

His brows shot higher. “That would imply I have time for such frivolities. I don’t watch television or movies, and while I read a fair bit, fiction would hardly advance my education. Data, data, data. I cannot make bricks without clay.”

I crossed my arms and glowered up at him. “Obviously, you’ve made an exception.”

“I never make exceptions. An exception disproves the rule.”

“I hate you so much right now.”

He laughed, and it was a glorious thing to hear, and I wanted . . . I wanted more. I wanted to capture this mood and hold on to it. Abandon any purpose for being here, grab his hand and race around to the lake side, show him the best place to climb up and gaze out over the water, to explore the ruins and not care why we’d come. Seize this playful mood of his and see how far I could take it. To be immature and, yes, childish.

The moment I thought that, I heard a child’s giggle. I spun around.

“Olivia?” Gabriel said.

He stepped closer, shades off as he looked about, frowning slightly, but the good humor lingering in his eyes, along with a warmth and an openness I hadn’t seen there before.