Having finished their tea in the parlor, Fiona and her sisters decided to go in search of everyone else. Lady Duncaster had gone to take Christmas baskets to the local tenants earlier, and their parents had gone with her.

“Don’t you think they’ll be back soon?” Laura asked while they headed toward the foyer. “I hoped to speak with them about something.”

“About Lamont?” Fiona asked with a nudge to her sister’s side. Rounding a corner, they saw the gentlemen coming toward them, and Fiona quietly added, “Speaking of which.”

“Ladies,” Chadwick said as he and his friends drew to a halt before them. His eyes darted toward Fiona, lingering on her long enough to cause a small tremor to race down her spine. Smiling, he gave his attention to her sisters. “The sun is out, so we thought we might take advantage. How does a ride to the village sound?”

“Like a marvelous idea,” Fiona blurted with far more enthusiasm than she’d intended. Heating beneath everyone’s attention, she deliberately tempered her tone and said, “It will be nice to get out for a bit, and since it is winter, one must do so when there’s an opportunity.”

The corner of Chadwick’s mouth twitched with a hint of humor. “Quite right. I’ll ask the butler to arrange for a couple of carriages to be brought round, if everyone is in agreement?”

“An outing sounds like a lovely idea,” Emily said. Rachel and Laura concurred, and twenty minutes later, after collecting their pelisses, gloves, and bonnets, the ladies were escorted outside by the gentlemen.

Chadwick led Fiona toward the first carriage. His hand steadily clasping hers, he helped her up. “Will you ride with us, Lamont?” he called to the duke, while Fiona made herself comfortable on the forward facing bench. A second later, Laura climbed in, claiming the spot beside Fiona so Lamont and Chadwick could sit opposite.

“Ready?” Chadwick asked. He tapped the roof of the carriage once everyone gave their consent, and the conveyance took off.

Fiona glanced out the window at the passing scenery of naked trees and barren landscapes still covered in a thin layer of white. She dared not look at Chadwick for fear of what it might do to her and of what he might see in her gaze. The possibility of his discovering how drastically her feelings for him had changed was a horrifying notion indeed. She still hadn’t come to terms with this sudden awareness that filled her whenever he was near and did not quite understand what it meant, much less what to do with it. He was a friend – a very close one.

If she gave but a hint of her heart’s desire, he would probably tell her how honored he was right before he tried to convince her that it was nothing more than a passing fancy. After all, he was a grown man with vast amounts of experience while she…she was little more than a silly girl capable of making him laugh. It would be humiliating to have him dismiss her as such. Worse than that, it would lead to an awkwardness between them that she vehemently wanted to avoid.

Over the past few days while he’d helped her search for the jewelry box, her attraction toward him had grown. She could feel herself savoring every glance and every touch they happened to share. Then he would say something silly or laugh, reminding her she was like a sister. It was all she ever would be, and if she were wise, she would stop hoping for more right now, before it was too late.

“That bonnet of yours is exceptionally pretty, Fiona,” Chadwick said, his voice breaking through her secret ponderings and forcing her attention back to him.

She turned to face him, allowing a quick glance at Lamont whose steady gaze remained fixed on Laura with whom he conversed in a whisper. They were discussing the plot for the novel Laura was writing, and Fiona couldn’t help but appreciate the attention and interest the duke was affording her sister.

Allowing her gaze to return to Chadwick’s, she forced a smile and said, “Thank you. It was a gift from Mama for my birthday.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t attend.” His eyes held hers while his jaw seemed to clench, all joviality gone in favor of a far more serious expression. Unnerved by it, Fiona did her best to push back her rising discomfort. “I trust the novel I sent you was to your liking?”

“Indeed.” He’d given her a copy of Emma which she’d happily devoured over the course of an evening. She’d read it three more times since. “I believe I sent you a letter of thanks. Did you not receive it?”

“Oh yes. Of course I did.” He cleared his throat, averted his gaze for a second, and then allowed it to latch onto hers once more. His eyes appeared slightly darker now, and the effect was such that Fiona felt her heart tremble.

No.

No, no, no.

She had to get her silly nerves under control. “It was a good story,” she managed to say.

“I thought so too.”

His response surprised her. “You’ve read it?”

He finally smiled the sort of smile she was used to. It allowed her to relax a little as he told her gently, “I had to know what I was giving you, so yes, I bought my own copy.”

“And?” They finally seemed to be returning to their usual sense of camaraderie. “What did you think of it?”

“Obviously, I liked it, or I wouldn’t have given it to you.”

“You might simply have thought it would appeal to me without actually liking it yourself.”

Grinning, he dipped his head in acquiescence. “A possibility, to be sure, but far from the truth. If you must know, I enjoyed the author’s depiction of class and the wit with which she writes.”

“That is why I admire her work,” Laura said, joining the conversation. “If I can only produce a novel on par with hers, I would be more than content.”

“My lady,” Lamont said, “I have every confidence you will succeed in that endeavor.”

Laura blushed. Lowering her lashes, she shyly thanked him for the compliment.

“What I especially liked was the plot,” Chadwick continued, this time looking at Laura.

“The idea of two longtime friends discovering they are in love with each other?” Laura asked. She glanced at Fiona, who immediately felt her cheeks flame with awareness.

“It was an interesting premise,” Chadwick said, “though I wonder why it took them so long to recognize their feelings.”

“Perhaps because there wouldn’t have been a book if they’d figured it all out in the first chapter,” Fiona pointed out, in an effort to dismiss the subject entirely. It was far too close to her own predicament for comfort, and the longer they lingered on it, the more likely it was that Chadwick might see straight through her.

His smile faltered. He knit his brow and quietly said, “You make an excellent point, Fiona.” The carriage drew to a halt, and he glanced out the window. “Looks like we’re here.”

They alit in quick succession, reuniting with the rest of their party on the pavement. “Shall we visit the haberdashery first?” Emily asked. “I should like to buy some ribbon if I may.”

“I’ll escort you,” Montsmouth said, quickly stepping up beside her and offering his arm.

Fiona watched her sister smile at the earl with stars in her eyes. He looked equally besotted, and Fiona couldn’t quite stop the ache that started to form in her chest. Especially when he lowered his head to whisper something in Emily’s ear. Emily laughed, and they started across the street with Laura and Lamont, Rachel and Belgrave following behind.

“Do you wish to join them?” Chadwick asked.

With little interest in any of the items the shop had to offer, Fiona shook her head. “I would rather stop by the cobbler, if there is one, so I can look for a new pair of walking boots. Furlined ones, if possible.”

“I’ll go with you.” He called across to the others so they knew where he and Fiona were headed.

“I’d hate to keep you from your own interests,” she said. Going alone in a village she wasn’t familiar with was probably not the best of ideas, yet she felt a distinct need to add some distance between them.

“My only interest right now is in keeping you company, Fiona.”

“Oh.” They started along at a moderate pace. An unusual silence fell between them, and for the first time in her life, Fiona had no idea of what to say.

“The weather is pleasant,” Chadwick finally murmured.

“Yes,” she agreed.

Reaching the cobbler, Chadwick opened the door so she could enter. He followed her inside the moderately sized space, keeping close while she spoke to the clerk – a middle aged man who introduced himself as Mr. Smith.

“I believe I have precisely what you’re looking for,” Mr. Smith said. He asked them to wait a moment before disappearing into another room. Returning, he placed a lovely pair of light brown boots lined with rabbit fur on the counter. “These should keep your feet nice and warm.”

“May I try them on?”

“Of course. Allow me to—”

“I’ll help her ladyship if she requires assistance,” Chadwick cut in.

“Of course,” Mr. Smith agreed, politely handing the boots over to him. “I’ll be in the back, so ring the bell if you need me.”

Blinking, Fiona tried to comprehend what had just transpired. She gave her attention to Chadwick, who’d obviously taken complete control of her shoe shopping. “May I?” she asked, attempting to reach for the boots he was holding.

He drew them away from her, walked toward a chair, and crouched down beside it. “Come have a seat, will you?”

She stared at him. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Ensuring these boots fit you properly.” Looking up at her, he produced a boyish grin that instantly turned her insides to mush.

She couldn’t let him help her, she realized. It wouldn’t be proper or even survivable, given the sparks that were presently jumping about in her belly at the idea of him doing so. “You will not be touching my feet, Chadwick. I am perfectly capable of trying those boots on my own.”

“Stop protesting, will you?” He waved her closer, and she blew out a breath of pure exasperation. Reluctantly, she crossed the floor and took a seat. “There. That wasn’t so difficult. Was it?”

“No,” she lied. She dropped a look at his upturned face and saw nothing but amicable friendship in the depths of his eyes. Pushing aside her jittery emotions with pure force of will, she held out her hand. “Now hand me the boots.”

He laughed up at her with the same sort of playfulness that had always made her appreciate his company. “Do you plan on putting them on over your other pair?”

Before she could answer, he’d snatched up her right foot and placed it upon his bended knee. She instinctively squeaked. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you get these things off.” He went to work on the laces.

His head was bowed to the task, so she could no longer see his expression, for which she was glad since it meant he could not see hers either. Heavens, she probably looked like a dumbfounded fool in danger of combusting at the prospect of what was to follow.

Her pulse leapt when the boot eased around her ankle, and then it was carefully pulled away and…oh dear God! She felt her heel resting against the palm of his hand, his thumb and ring-finger cradling her ankle, and her heart almost seized in response to the wave of desire that followed. Her breaths were shallow. All she could do was stare down at the top of his head, quite unable to utter a word while he crouched there, his hand shifting ever so slightly against her silk stocking. It was enough to send darts of pleasure shooting straight up her legs.

Drawing a sharp breath, she willed him to move. Except he didn’t. Why wasn’t he moving?

She shook her foot. “Chadwick.” She finally managed to get one word out of her dry mouth.

With a start, he reached for one of the new boots, slid it carefully into place, and did up the laces. “How does it fit?” Looking up, he met her gaze.

His brown eyes conveyed an element of warmth that told her he truly cared for her answer. Still, there was nothing to suggest he’d been any bit as affected by touching her foot as she had been. In fact, he didn’t look bothered at all, which naturally bothered her all the more.

“Perfectly,” she told him succinctly. She wiggled her toes back and forth inside the boot.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you sound annoyed.”

She expelled a breath and did her best to calm herself. It wasn’t his fault she was turning into an imbecile in his presence. Only that it was his fault. Of course it was. Entirely. Curse him for looking so devilishly handsome and curse her for noticing.

“Forgive me,” she said as she tugged her foot out of his hold and set it on the floor, “but I don’t think you ought to help me with this any further.”

“I’ve upset you.”

He stood and turned his attention on a display shelf, though not fast enough for her to miss the distinct look of pain in his eyes. For reasons she couldn’t understand, she’d hurt him. Which made no sense. Chadwick was not easily hurt by anyone. He always brushed words off with a laugh and a shrug of his shoulders. All she’d done was prevent him from doing something that would have been considered monumentally inappropriate if any other man, besides a relation, had offered to do it.

So perhaps that was it then? Perhaps he was able to feel her withdrawal from him, even though she’d tried her best to hide it. And since the last thing she wanted was to slight him in any way, she carefully told him, “No. I appreciate everything you do for me, Chadwick.” He turned to face her with the sort of hopefulness that lifted her spirits. “Everything you’ve always done for me. You know this, surely.”

“I do, and yet I cannot help but feel as though things have changed between us.” He took a step forward, his intense brown eyes boring into the center of her soul. “Would you tell me if they have, Fiona?”

Swallowing, she did her best to remain as still as possible while her heart bounced about in her throat. “Nothing has changed, Chadwick.” She managed to speak the words with an element of certainty that impressed even her. “I consider you a brother, and I always will. You must never doubt that.”

His jaw flexed, and for a second she was certain she’d offended him yet again. But then he seemed to relax, and his fingers shot out to nudge her beneath her chin. A smile followed as he said, “I’m so glad to hear it, Fiona.” Bending down, he quickly helped her replace the left boot she wore with the new one. “Now then, stand up and take a turn of the room, will you? We need to make sure they’re a good fit before purchasing them.”

She did what he suggested, all the while feeling as though she’d sacrificed part of herself and perhaps even part of him. The lie had been necessary though, because to confess the truth would have ruined everything she’d ever held dear. “They’re good,” she told him after a few paces back and forth.

He rang the bell for the clerk to return, and five minutes later they were back outside on the pavement, with a package containing her old boots tucked under Chadwick’s arm and her growing love for him buried inside her miserable heart.