As if to emphasize that pronouncement, her stomach grumbled, embarrassingly loud in its groaning.

Val grunted and turned on his heel.

It took a moment for her to register . . .

“You’re leaving,” she blurted as he neared the front of the room.

And for a moment, she thought he intended to continue on without another word, as though she’d not spoken.

When suddenly, unexpectedly, he stopped and turned reluctantly back.

Then, slowly, he strode back over.

Wordlessly, he seated himself at the floor beside the fire, and she sank onto the ground beside him, matching his movements, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

She dropped her chin atop the makeshift shelf she’d made of her legs and stared at the dancing flames.

“Since I was a girl . . . I’ve never been in harmony with the rest of my family,” she confided. “I was always the most unruly one, when they are able to moderate their temperaments. And the rare times I did crave quiet, they would fill every corner of our household with a deafening roar of noise.” A sad smile drew her lips up in the corners. “My house was always filled with noise. I’ve two sisters and three brothers, and cousins who are always about, and yet for as big as my family is, I always struggled to fit in.” She paused, turning her cheek onto her knee, and looked over. “Do you have any siblings?”

“One,” he said, surprising her with the speed at which he replied; his answers before this one had always been reluctant, as if any admission he’d made had come as though dragged from him. “A brother.”

“My siblings are quite talkative; they’re always boisterous. What of your brother?”

“It sounds as though he’d get on splendidly with your family.”

And just like that, an image slipped in of her and Val, surrounded by their families in a happy tableau set at Christmastime, with laughter and Val smiling and . . . Her heart hammering, she pushed back the nonsensical musings, unsure of where they came from. Or why her soul clung to the idea of it still.

Clearing her throat, she resumed speaking. “Well, they are always noisy, and I enjoy reading.”

“Your Miss Austen.” He touched a finger to his lips. “You have my assurance that I shall not betray your confidence.”