before warm fingers took her hand. She jolted, as much from the sensation racing up her arm as from the shock of the gesture.
He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her palm. Her breath tangled up in her chest. If her father saw this, he would kill her where she stood.
But what was the harm in a moment’s flirtation with an alluring stranger? He would return to his ornate house and forget about her. She would go to her modest dwelling and remember this brief, amazing encounter forever.
A stolen moment. Nothing more.
His other hand appeared in her vision even as he arched a brow. “A gift for the beautiful Jewess.”
That tangled breath nearly choked her when she saw the thick silver torc in his hand, lions’ heads on each end. “Lord, I cannot—”
“I will it.” He slid the bracelet onto her arm, under her sleeve until it reached a part of her arm thick enough to hold it up, past her elbow. Challenge lit his features. “If you do not want it, you may return it when next we meet.”
“I . . .” She could think of nothing clever to say, no smooth words of refusal.
With an endearing smirk, he kissed her knuckles and then released her and strode away. Kasia may have stood there for the rest of time, staring blankly at where he had been, had Esther not gripped her arm and tugged.
“Kasia, what are you thinking? You cannot accept a gift from a Persian man! What will your father say?”
“Nothing pleasant.” Blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face, Kasia let her sleeve settle over her arm. It covered all evidence of the unrequested silver. “He need not know.”
“Kasia.” Esther’s torment wrinkled her forehead again. “What has gotten into you? Surely you are not . . . ?”
She glanced over to where the man mounted his horse and turned with one last look her way, topped with a wink. Blood rushed to her cheeks. “Perhaps I am. He is a fine man, is he not?”
Esther sighed, laughed a little. “He seemed it, yes. But your father will never allow you to marry a Persian. As soon as he decides between Ben-Hesed and Michael, you will become a fine Jewish wife to a fine Jewish man.”
“Yes, I know.” Her breath leaked out, washing some of the excitement of the last few minutes away with it. “It hardly matters. The loss of one bracelet will probably not bother him. He will consider it restitution for our dismay and think of it no more.”
Esther lifted her brows. “But he said he would see you again.”
“Do you really think a man of his station will bother himself over a Jewish girl whose father cannot afford a dowry?”
“I suppose not.”
Kasia looped her elbow through Esther’s. “Come, little one. We had better hurry home.”
Esther renewed her smile. “You have quite the romantic story now. Someday, when you are an old married woman, you can pull out that torc and give it to your daughter along with a tale to set her heart to sighing.”
Yes . . . someday.
Two
Esther tore through her chest of belongings, tossing away each object to meet her hands. It had to be here. Somewhere, under something . . . she could not have lost her mother’s silver bracelet. Impossible. She rarely wore it, only when she wanted to look pretty for Zechariah. The last time had been—
No. She rocked back on her heels and pressed a hand to her mouth. Three days ago, when she spent the day with Kasia. When they went to the river. She did not remember taking it off again that night.
There was no need to think the worst. It was probably at Kasia’s house, that was all. Surely it had slipped off there, and not in the streets. Or, worse still, at the river.
“Esther?”
At her cousin’s voice, Esther scooped up the mass of her belongings and shoved them back into the chest, dropping it shut just as Mordecai stuck his head into her small chamber. He was so tall he had to duck before entering, though otherwise his build was slight.
He smiled. “There you are. I am not needed at the palace today, so Kish and I are going in search of some wood for his next project. Would you like to spend the morning with Kasia?”
Relief settled on her shoulders. “I would like that, cousin. Thank you.” She could ask Kasia if she had seen her bracelet, if perhaps her ima, Zillah, had found it . . . and if she had heard any more from the rich Persian. Unlikely, but worth a question.
She stood and followed her cousin through the house and out the front door. Mordecai drew in a deep breath of the fresh air, closing his hazel eyes as if to better savor it.
Esther smiled. She had never met him before her parents were killed, but in the three years since he took her in, she discovered him to be a man of depths that flowed down to his soul. Not often did he speak up in a crowd, never did he draw attention to himself. But he lived with a whole heart. He seemed to treasure each moment. Each breath of fresh air. Each bird song. It was no wonder he was the one chosen to represent the Jews at the palace. There was no man more respected in Susa.
She could not figure out why he never remarried after his wife died in childbirth five years ago, along with their babe. But at the same time, she was glad. Had he brought a new woman into the house, she may not have appreciated having to tend to a nearly-grown girl like Esther.
That was a selfish thought, she knew. Mordecai deserved the happiness a wife and children of his own would bring him. Besides, his heart was too large to necessitate pushing her aside once he had children of his flesh. He had told her more than once that she was like his daughter, and he meant it.
Just because she had lost one father did not mean she would lose this one.
He smiled down at her and took the first step onto the street. “You have grown again. We shall have to get you some more clothes. Perhaps Zillah and Kasia will help you with that next week.”
“They are always happy to help.”
Mordecai nodded, but his smile faded. It was so out of character for him that Esther stopped. “Cousin?”
He halted too, and drew out a smaller smile. “It is nothing. Only . . . Kish is still considering Ben-Hesed or Michael for your friend?”
“So far as I know. They are . . . cousin! Are you going to ask for her?”
“I . . .” Mordecai blushed—actually blushed. “She has grown into a lovely young woman. Beautiful, but so much more. Tender and caring, with a zeal for life. And she loves you. I know not if she could ever feel so warmly for me, though.”
“How could she not?” Esther tucked her hand into Mordecai’s elbow and gave him her brightest smile. “I doubt she has considered it, but I shall plant a few thoughts in her head.”
Mordecai groaned, but it ended on a laugh. “I do not need my twelve-year-old daughter approaching a woman on my behalf. I will try to find a few moments to speak with her to see if she would welcome further attention
