Athena blushed seeing Ewan enter the sitting room right after her. Did he follow her?
Her heartbeat soared rapidly over an invisible ceiling when his gaze met hers—crashing just as suddenly when it flitted past her like it hadn't met her mere nanoseconds ago.
She swallowed, an involuntary action, and tucked her hands to her sides, wishing she had worn a gown with pockets.
"Ewan!" she heard Old Mr. Thorne call out, happiness shining through his voice.
Even the twins, whom she had hoped would be in bed, hurried toward their father, neglecting her in the process. It didn't matter that they had rushed toward him straight from their nestled position around her thighs; they had just finished welcoming her.
It was unavoidable, she supposed, that they would greet Ewan, thinking he had come in with her. But it didn't make the bitter taste on her tongue go away.
"You didn't tell me you were coming…" the old man continued, gesturing for Ewan to take a seat.