Aunt Esha set her Hoyden Inn mug down on the table, her long, elegant fingers curved around its handle. “I shall send you a tin of Charbonnel et Walker in a care package.” Her eyes danced in merriment. “Like I do for Arthur.”

I smiled despite myself. “You send Arthur care packages?”

Ignoring Arthur’s low hum of annoyance, Aunt Esha nodded. “There are some English things one cannot find in the States.”

“Like what?” I pressed, forgetting for a moment that I was secretly mad at her.

“Mashi—” he pleaded.

She ignored him. “Jaffa Cakes. Murdock face scrub and pomade. Oh, and Shrimps & Bananas!”

The latter earned a double take. “Shrimps and bananas?”

Arthur groaned.

“It’s a type of candy. I’ll add some to your care package.” She winked impishly.

I glanced at Arthur, who was deliberately not looking at either of us. “So Arthur likes candy, huh?”

“He does.” She reached over to tweak his blushing cheek. “My nephew is very sweet.”

Arthur leaned away from her with a deep scowl and I chuckled.

Then she refocused on me. “Have you ever been to England?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No, I’ve never even left the United States. I hope to, someday.”

She eyed me in a way that made me feel like she was seeing everything about me. “I believe you will. Jo has told me some stories.”

“She has?” My grandmother hated gossip, though I guess talking about your granddaughter didn’t really count. And I was glad Aunt Esha had been talking to Grandma Jo and not my dad.

She nodded. “Indeed. She paints you as a very determined young woman.” My heart swelled at that. Aunt Esha turned to her nephew. “Do you think that’s accurate, Arthur?”

He weighed his words carefully. “That Finley will get to England? Yes, of course. Travel is considerably more accessible these days.” His aunt stared at him without blinking until he shifted uncomfortably in his chair and glanced in my direction. “And, yes, Finley can be very determined.”

“I can?” I asked in surprise.

“Can’t you?” he challenged back.

“Well, yeah. I just didn’t think you noticed.”

He took a sip of his hot chocolate before murmuring, “I did.”

I felt something in that, in his tone. A charge. But it was ephemeral and elusive and—

“There you are.”

We turned toward the dining room’s entrance to see Ayisha approaching. She carried a square white package covered in clear tape and a mailing label.

My disappointment at being interrupted before I could try to get Arthur to expand on whatever it was I may or may not have heard in his voice was forgotten when I saw she was looking directly at me.

“This arrived for you,” Ayisha said, as she placed the box in my hands.