Page 49 of Once upon a Summer Night

He stared at her for a few seconds, shocked, then burst into laughter. She followed helplessly with her own, and thus began the quest for the best quack.

After the hour and a half tour (in which Colin reluctantly accepted defeat), they headed to the Boston Tea Party Ships & Museum, where Ellie watched, fascinated, as the actors reenacted the Boston Tea Party. Colin kept nudging her and giving her meaningful glances.

“We may not win at quacking, but we certainly won the war,” he murmured.

She rolled her eyes. “You are not a graceful loser.”

“Don’t speak too loudly,” he mock-whispered. “We don’t take kindly to Brits here.”

She laughed. “Think they’ll believe I’m an American?”

He looked her up and down, and a warmth spread from her chest outward as his gaze darkened. For a moment, their eyes caught and held, and the intensity in his expression halted Ellie’s breathing.

Then, he gave her a roguish smile, breaking the spell. “Nah. But they might believe you’re a Patriot if you stick close to me.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “I’ll do my best.” They stepped into the tea parlor, and Ellie inhaled the scents. “Mmm. I like coffee, but there is something so comforting about a cup of hot tea —” A flash went off, blinding her temporarily.

“Miss Carberry,it’s been rumored that you’re dating more than ten men. What do you say to that?”

“Miss Carberry, is the president of Celtic Connections one of the ten men?”

“Miss Carberry, are you going to pretend another pregnancy?”

“Miss Carberry—”

The flashes came from what felt like all sides and there were microphones shoved into their faces.

“The Earl of Dorset claims you’re looking for attention from the press. Is he right?” someone called out.

Colin swore under his breath and immediately stepped in front of Ellie, shielding her from the onslaught. “That’s enough. You’ll need to contact my publicist for any comments.”

The men crowded Colin, trying to lift their cameras over his head to snap their photos of Ellie, who shrank back, her face white.

Colin, realizing the futility of trying to reason with the crowd and understanding that they were causing a commotion, quickly spun Ellie around and dug his phone out of his pocket. “I need an immediate pickup at the Boston Tea Party museum,” he barked into the phone, then quickly hung up. As he hustled her towards the front door, a moment later, a text came through.

He murmured the color and model of a car to her, and she nodded, though from her arrested expression, Colin knew he’d have to locate the car himself. He breathed a sigh of thanks when the Uber pulled up, and he bundled Ellie inside of it.

“Where are we going?” she asked, her voice small. “They’ll follow us to your house.”

“Yes. And my address is incredibly private; if they found anything online, it’ll be to a dummy address in Medford.”

“Is that a town near here?”

“A city, more like, and close enough to be believable. We’re going to the Celtic Connections office.”

She nodded, a single tear slipping down her cheek.

He immediately unbelted himself and slid closer to her. “Ellie, don’t cry. It’ll be all right.”

She buried her face into his chest. “No, it won’t. This is what they do. They hound you until you want to crawl into bed and never come out again. They’reawful.”

“They are,” he agreed, a fury rising in him when he thought back to the insulting, personal questions hurled at her. “I cannot believe someone would ask such things, much less multiple someones. A fake pregnancy? Truly?” He made a sound of disgust.

She looked up at him then, her eyes bright with tears, and whispered, “I didn’t fake it, I swear.”

His eyes widened, and he pulled back a little to look at her face. “What?”

Her chin quivered. “I didn’t fake it. I truly was pregnant. But by that time, Andrew tired of me.”

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