Accepting the glass of champagne he placed in her hand, Fiona watched while he sipped his own, admiring how easily the rim of the glass fit against his full lower lip.

“What?” he asked, his gaze meeting hers when he lowered the glass once more.

Realizing she’d been caught staring, she gave a quick shrug of her shoulders and proceeded to drink some of her own bubbly liquid, enjoying the way it fizzed against her tongue. “I like Fee,” she said, deliberately removing some of his attention from her and putting it right back onto the pet name he’d given her. When he’d first spoken it – as if it were the most natural thing in the world – she’d felt cherished in a way she’d never felt before. After all, none of her siblings had ever taken the time to give her a pet name, not that she’d ever felt as though she’d needed one. None of them had one really, except for Christopher, who’d always been called Kip.

But there was something wonderful about Chadwick giving her one. Because she loved him – yes, she might as well admit it to herself if not to anyone else – and the fact he’d thought about her enough to not call her what everyone else always called her. It made her feel special. More importantly, it made her feel as though she might matter to him a little bit more than she’d dared hope. Not that he’d ever feel half as much for her as she felt for him. She wasn’t delusional after all. He’d made certain there would be no mistaking his affections when he’d spoken of maintaining their friendship and of how he considered her family – a sister, no doubt.

“Perhaps I should call you, Eddy, then?” She said it with a grin and with the hope of not getting all depressed while overthinking her platonic relationship with him. The truth was, she was fortunate to know him at all – fortunate to have him in her life – fortunate he cared enough about her to have paid as much attention as he had over the years.

“Do that and I may have to spank you.”

She didn’t miss the humor with which he spoke, but there was something else behind the words – something darker she couldn’t quite seem to grasp. Oddly, it filled her brain with thoughts of kissing and other, far more scandalous things, like undressing – together. “You…” She found it impossible to speak all of a sudden.

His eyes widened, though not with the sort of awareness she was feeling but with concern. “Fiona.” How she wished he would call her Fee again. “You do know I jest? I would never dream of actually hurting you like that.”

Blinking, she allowed a nod. “Of course I do.” Forcing a smile, she took another sip of her drink. A short distance away, the master of ceremonies raised his voice over the music and chatter, forcing the room into silence. It saved Fiona from having to continue the conversation at hand, which was just as well since she really did not know how to explain her startled response to his comment.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” Lady Duncaster spoke once everyone had fixed their attention on the part of the room where she stood. “It is a delight to see you all here this evening, especially those of you who have travelled long distances. Thank you so much for coming.” She paused for the right amount of time before adding, “As you know, Thorncliff has lent itself to romantic stirrings of the heart a few times already, and it seems it has done so again.” A few hushed whispers circulated the room, tapering off when she spoke once more. “Lord and Lady Oakland. I am quite certain the guests are eager to hear your announcement.”

Fiona waited for the announcement she knew was to come. She couldn’t actually see anything, but then she heard her father’s voice, loud and clear. “It is my greatest pleasure to inform you all here tonight that three of my daughters, Ladies Emily, Laura, and Rachel, are all engaged to be married. Though not to the same man, mind you.” A bit of laughter rose in response. “Lady Emily will be marrying the Earl of Montsmouth; Lady Laura, the Duke of Lamont; and Lady Rachel will wed Viscount Belgrave. A toast, to all three couples!”

“Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!” the crowd cheered. Fiona and Chadwick followed suit.

She was happy for her sisters – thrilled in fact. They had each found their happily ever after and would soon move on to enjoy fairy tales of their own making. “We should go and congratulate them.”

She started forward but felt Chadwick’s hand at her arm, holding her back. “Not until you’ve managed to regain your composure.”

“What?”

He stepped around her, shielding her from everyone else and then leaned slightly in. His head dipped, moving closer until she could glimpse the fine creases that formed whenever he laughed. “You’re crying, Fiona.”

Raising her hand, she patted her cheeks. They were as damp as he’d suggested, which made no sense at all. She hadn’t even realized she was doing it. “From joy,” she assured him, because what other reason could there possibly be under the circumstances? The alternative would paint her as a selfish woman, unhappy her sisters were getting what she would not.

“Until your expression can convince them of that, I suggest you and I take that walk we discussed earlier.” He linked his arm with hers and deliberately started leading her out through a side entrance.

“But—”

“We can borrow one of the throws from the green salon. No need for you to go all the way back upstairs for a shawl.”

Unable to argue any further, she allowed her feet to fall into step with his. Somewhere deep inside her chest, little shards of what had to be the remains of her heart produced a stabbing effect that made her want to retreat. To keep his company now – alone – would be extremely difficult to endure. And yet, some unknown part of her must have acquired a penchant for self-loathing, keeping her precisely where she was – as close to her source of pain as possible.

They reached the salon, and she allowed him to select a lovely wool throw in deep indigo. He set it about her shoulders before they stepped outside into the cool winter air. It wasn’t as crisp as it had been a few days earlier, though she could still see her breath misting each time she exhaled.

“It’s a beautiful evening,” she said while he guided her across the wide expanse of terrace toward the steps beyond. This was where the masquerade ball had been held during the summer – where she and her sisters had sipped lemonade during the warm and breezy afternoons while watching croquet being played on the lawn below. It all seemed so long ago now. So much had happened, especially for them. Their lives had changed within only a couple of weeks.

“Will you tell me why your father’s announcement was so upsetting to you?” Chadwick asked. “Do you even know?”

They headed down the steps that led toward the garden paths, several of which were now cleared of snow thanks to the two sunny days they’d had. As was to be expected at Thorncliff, they’d even been lined by lanterns, even though Fiona doubted anyone else would choose to leave the festive ballroom in favor of taking a chilly walk. She was glad she had though. Chadwick had been right. She’d needed a small reprieve, even though she hadn’t known it herself.

“I don’t,” she lied.

Because really, how could she possibly tell him all she was feeling? How could she ever reveal her innermost thoughts – thoughts she hadn’t yet shared with another soul?

She couldn’t.

Not when those feelings involved him and stood to destroy whatever closeness they had. This private moment didn’t offer as much as she wanted, but she would hold it close to her heart and cherish it with every fiber of her being if it was all there ever could be. To risk sacrificing it on a slim chance he might reciprocate…she almost laughed at her own fanciful stupidity.

He was eleven years older than she, after all. No doubt there existed some lady – an older and more sophisticated woman – who’d captured his heart. There was no reason for her to know about it. This was not the sort of thing gentlemen spoke of, least of all to a young girl barely out of the schoolroom.

“Could it be you wish for what they have?” His voice produced a gentle sound in the darkness.

It coaxed her to say, “It was a lot to take in all at once, even though I knew it was coming. I knew of my sisters’ affections, but I never imagined things would move so quickly that I…” She swallowed the thought that flew to the surface and looked straight ahead. They were moving toward the lake.

“As you are the last remaining sister, I think it might have made you feel alone, perhaps even abandoned.”

Her chest worked with her uneasy intakes of breath. The air was cool against her lungs, but the blanket offered a wonderfully warm cocoon that both soothed and offered comfort. Just as he did. “Perhaps you’re right. I have always been used to a house full of people, to laughter and noise, footsteps chasing each other up and down the stairs.”

“That was always my favorite thing about your home,” Chadwick said. They turned toward the left, following a path that would lead them toward the maze. “As well as you, of course, and your family.”

“But all of that is going to change now, isn’t it?” She considered how quiet it was going to be with no one else but her and her parents about. “To have three sisters move out all at once will make for quite a change.”

“Until the day when you move out as well.”

There was something in his voice, something almost regrettable that she couldn’t quite figure out. So she made an effort to understand him. “You mean when I marry?”

“Naturally.”

Now he sounded annoyed. She allowed the thought to sink in before shaking her head and telling him plainly, “I don’t believe I will.”

That stopped him in his tracks. He turned toward her, his face cast mostly in shadows save for a faint little sliver of silver that spilled from the moon to his brow. “Of course you will, Fiona. This feeling you’re having right now…it will eventually pass. A new Season will begin, and you will meet a handsome and wonderful gentleman – someone kind who can make you laugh.”

“Laughter is important,” she said, because if she didn’t speak she might burst into tears. “What other qualities will he have, do you think?”

Slowly, as if to ensure she was going to follow, Chadwick resumed walking, speaking while he went. “If he doesn’t own a large tree on his estate, then he must be willing to plant one so you will have something to climb.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “I thought you told me I could no longer behave like a child.”

“No.” He fell silent for a moment before saying, “What I told you was that you and I have to remember you’re no longer a child. There is a difference.”

“I don’t see—”

“There’s no reason for you to stop having fun, Fiona, but for me to tickle you as I once did or give you a piggyback ride or anything else remotely like that would not be proper. Do you understand?”

“What I understand is that I’m to be miserable, Chadwick.” She couldn’t help herself from sharing that truth with him. “Playing and being silly with you – the tickling and the chasing and the…” She waved her arms about, searching for the right words. Failing, she had to settle for, “All of it.” He’d gone completely quiet, no doubt from shock, but now she’d started she couldn’t stop from adding, “I don’t ever want to have to grow up if it means having to do without those things.”

“In that case, we’ll have to ensure the man you marry will be the sort to accommodate your playful nature.”

She gave him a dubious look. “How likely do you suppose finding such an individual among our set is going to be?”

“Well, look at me. I’m like that.”

“But you’re not in the running. Are you?” The question was spoken without thinking. It simply flew from her mouth – a natural response to his comment. And now it was out there, floating between them, there was no taking it back. He’d heard her. His hesitance made that much perfectly clear. So she did the only thing she could think of in order to lessen the importance of what she’d said and the chance of him knowing how much it revealed. She laughed, pulled the blanket a little bit tighter, and used her most teasing tone. “Of course you’re not. What a lark that would be.”

He clamped his mouth on whatever he’d meant to say. Which was just as well since she really couldn’t bear the thought of him telling her, “No.” Or even worse, “Unfortunately, I’m planning to marry Lady Somethingorother instead.”

They reached the entrance to the maze and paused there. The hedges weren’t as dense as they’d been during the summer when leaves filled the gaps between the twining branches. “Do you wish to attempt it?” Chadwick asked.

She glanced up at him, hoping to read his expression. Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough light for her to do so, so she considered his voice instead. It had sounded hopeful – perhaps because he knew as well as she did that this might be their last adventure together. In another few days they would both depart from Thorncliff. He would return to his own estate, and if the last four months were anything to go by, she might not see him again until they happened to meet at the same ball.

She closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath. “Absolutely.”

* * *

He grinned, even though his chest hurt. If only she knew the severity of the blow she’d dealt with her hasty dismissal of him as a suitor. But she wouldn’t consider him – her thoughts didn’t even lie in that direction. No. He was nothing more than the good old family friend and brother figure with whom she enjoyed having fun. To suppose there was more than that on her part – that there ever could be – would be a mistake.

“Then by all means, my lady,” he said, deliberately applying an affected tone he knew she’d find amusing, “allow me to escort you.”

She made a chuckling sound, precisely as he’d expected, and placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. It felt so right he suddenly wished they might never find a way out of this maze – that by some poor chance of fate they might have to remain inside it forever. But they both knew the path inside out after giving the thing a thorough exploration the last time they’d visited, which meant it would take them roughly ten minutes to walk to the center and another ten to return. Twenty minutes was hardly forever, but it was going to have to make do since it was all he was being offered.

“I’ve been wondering,” she said, after they’d gone a few paces. “Why haven’t you married yet?”

His steps almost faltered, just as they had on the dance floor. “I don’t suppose I had a reason to,” he told her. There was some art to speaking the truth while carefully guarding one’s emotions. “Why do you ask?”

“Curiosity.” She curled her hand a bit more snuggly around his arm. “I know men don’t have the same urgency to marry as women do, although you will eventually have to ensure there’s an heir to your title.”

“I’m only thirty years old, Fiona.” Why did he need to remind her of that?

“Have you never met a woman – a lady, I mean – in all those thirty years with whom you might consider starting a family?”

Yes.

You.

How the hell was he supposed to be honest now? “Are you worried I might wait too long and eventually become one of those old doddering fools the young debutantes fear having to take to husband?”

Her shoulder nudged his as they rounded a corner, continued forward a few paces, and then turned right. “It is a justifiable concern.”

“Then allow me to reassure you, I shall probably never marry.” He hadn’t meant to say that, but now the words were out, he realized how true they were. If he couldn’t have Fiona…Christ, he’d have to sacrifice the title. It would end up going to his cousin’s son, which wouldn’t be too terrible since he rather liked that side of the family.

“Chadwick?”

He flinched at the realization that he must have missed part of the conversation. “Hmm?”

“What are you talking about?” Fiona asked.

She was no longer leaning into him but rather pulling back and looking up at him as if trying to gauge his expression. He doubted she could see more of his face in the darkness than he could of hers, for which he was glad. He didn’t want her to notice how anxious he was.

“Well…” Oh, he’d done it now. He knew her well enough to know she would not be dropping this subject any time soon. “I have no wish to pick a random bride from a ballroom lineup and then proceed to court and marry her on the basis of her outstanding credentials. The prospect of it disagrees with me.”

“Because of the man you are,” Fiona said as though she knew him better than he knew himself. “You want more from a wife than for her to be simply a pedigree breeder.”

Her frankness shouldn’t have surprised him, and yet he still coughed in response to her statement. “Companionship might be nice as well,” he managed to say.

“And love,” Fiona quietly murmured in a way that made it clear this was one of her own requirements.

“Do you think it’s possible to fall in love twice in a lifetime?” He’d no idea where that question had come from, yet somehow he’d spoken it anyway.

She hesitated before answering. When she finally spoke, her voice held a depth of honesty that made him wonder if he’d ever know the secrets of her heart. “I don’t know.”

“I think it is, but not without paying a price.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t believe the two loves can ever be equal. One will always mean more than the other.”

“And you think that would be unfair?”

“I do.”

They continued in silence for a couple of minutes before she asked the question he had known she’d eventually ask. “Whom do you love, Chadwick?’

Her voice was small and fragile, so apart from her usual inquisitiveness. It was almost as if she feared the answer he might give her this time, which was likely his own mind playing tricks on him – a bit of wishful thinking that was sure to get him in trouble if he actually told her the truth.

“Does it matter?” he asked, instead. Turning left, the path opened up, revealing the large square center of the maze. Two benches stood here for those who wished to rest their feet before starting back, and there was a slender birch tree in one corner, offering partial shade during the summer.

“No,” she whispered. “I don’t suppose it does, though I cannot help but speculate.”

Of course she couldn’t. She’d always been curious, questioning everything and demanding answers. It made him wonder why they’d never had this conversation before. “There are some things I cannot discuss,” he said. She slipped her arm from his and walked forward on her own. “Not even with you. I’m sorry.” The throw was still wound tightly around her shoulders, producing a slim silhouette that looked awfully lonely standing there in the darkness. It prompted him to follow her, to offer comfort even though she’d said nothing to suggest this was what she needed.

And yet, he could sense something was wrong. Her mood was different than usual. She turned back to face him and took a sharp breath, no doubt startled by his sudden closeness. “I understand,” she said. Two words that made it abundantly clear she did not understand anything at all, least of all the mangled state his heart was in.

“Fiona.” He shook his head and gazed up. Perhaps the night sky would offer a solution. Instead, he found himself staring at the skeletal limbs of the birch tree, or more precisely at the thick cluster of leaves that hung like a ball from one of the nearest overhead branches. “Mistletoe.”

“Where?”

“There,” he said, pointing toward it. “We’re standing right underneath it.”

“Oh. I see.”

He returned his gaze to hers, noting not only how close she was but that her chin was turned up at the exact right angle. Kiss her. He’d only have to lower his head, and she’d be right there waiting. His chest tightened like a knot. What a fool he’d be to pass up this opportunity – one that could easily be excused by the fortuitous presence of one little plant.

“Come on then,” he said, forcing his most practical tone – as if he were only going to do what tradition compelled him to do. “It’s supposed to be good luck.”

He dipped his head, allowing her every opportunity in the world to retreat, to push him away or to tell him, “No.” But she did none of those things. Instead, she remained where she was, waiting for him to do as he wished.

Slowly, so he could imprint every second of this experience to memory, he closed the distance, meeting her lips with his own in the softest, most perfect, caress he could ever have imagined. And it was as if time stood still and all that remained in the world was them – a perfect pair.