Shutting the door behind him, Bryce locked it and pushed out a breath. Her words should not have stung. She was a virtual stranger, a woman he’d never laid eyes on before she’d arrived at his house, shivering from cold, yesterday afternoon. And yet, there was no denying the tightness squeezing his chest or the tension constricting his veins. With a few angry words, she’d managed to hurl his past toward him so fast it had hit him with full force, bringing with it the pain and resentment he was certain he’d buried so long ago.

For three years he’d kept mostly to himself, and whenever he’d ventured out, he’d held his head high and ignored the reproachful looks being sent his way. He’d told himself he did not care, that other people’s opinions did not matter. Well, apparently Miss Potter’s did. And although she couldn’t possibly know about the incident that had changed his life for the worse, her comment still grated. I am beginning to understand why there is no Lady Ravenworth.

Inhaling deeply, he went to his work table where a bit of mistletoe waited. Snatching it up by its stem, he twirled it between his fingers. Somehow, in no more than twelve short hours, Miss Potter had breached his defenses.

What a fool he was to have allowed such a thing to happen. He, of all people, should have known better. But he’d been taken with her from the moment she’d turned her dazzling blue eyes upon him. Little by little, she’d drawn him in, until last night… His mouth went dry once more as he reflected on how tempting she’d been in her nightgown. Her body…

He winced and tossed the piece of mistletoe aside. He’d do well not to think of it. No good would come of doing so since they were destined to part tomorrow. Somehow, he would get her out of his life by then, because not doing so was bound to drive him mad.

Removing his jacket and rolling up his sleeves, he sat. A few hours of working on his flowers ought to distract him from his alluring houseguest. She has a vicious tongue, he reminded himself as his mind began to betray his determination to think of anything other than her. Only because I incensed her. She’d been right to get angry with him. What he’d told her had been inexcusable. It only confirmed what everyone already had concluded–that he was the worst sort of scoundrel to walk the earth, a man so selfish and cruel not even his own family wished to stand by him.

A gentle knock sounded at the door. Bryce stared at the rose before him, propped up by a cleverly crafted stand. It was almost covered in gold, painted by the brush he held between his fingers. Blinking, he wondered how long he’d been lost in his musings. An hour or two at least, considering his progress.

The knock came again, and Bryce sucked in a breath. It was her. He knew it in the pit of his stomach. And although he wanted to let her in, he also wanted to keep her away. Doing so was best for both of them. Neither could allow themselves to give in to temptation. Not when the stakes were as high as they were, with her intending to make a good match and him more than likely to ruin that for her.

So he didn’t respond, waiting instead for the gentle tread of retreating footsteps. Regret welled up inside him, but it was for the best. This way, they could both go on with their lives as if crossing paths with each other was nothing more than a slight inconvenience.

* * *

He didn’t want to speak with her. That much was clear. While his withdrawal annoyed her, she couldn’t blame him for it. Not when she’d behaved so abominably. She felt awful about what she’d said. Her words had clearly struck him with greater force than she’d ever expected. Which made her wonder. Why wasn’t he married? Perhaps he had been, and his wife had died? It would certainly explain why her cutting remark had bothered him so.

Intent on offering him an apology, she’d sought him out. But he’d refused to let her into the room where he’d secluded himself, and after knocking a couple of times, she’d granted him the solitude he wished for. Which meant she would have to entertain herself until it was time to eat again. Because surely he would show up for luncheon.

But he didn’t. Nor did he put in an appearance for dinner. At which point it became clear he had no intention of seeing her ever again. She would depart the following morning, and she doubted he would be there to see her off. It was as if he’d banished her from his life already, and although she should not care, she did–a lot more than she’d like to.

After retiring that evening, she remained in her bedchamber. She would not venture downstairs in hope of encountering him in the library. No. She would respect his wishes and allow the distance he wished for to sink between them. And then she would leave, intent on enjoying Christmas with Margaret and her family, in a home that would not contain a man with a serious frown and eyes as black as the darkest night.

She would forget him and go on to live a happy life with a suitable gentleman of her choosing. Or so she told herself even though, somewhere deep down inside, a little voice whispered no other man would ever affect her as Ravenworth did. The feelings he stirred in her were like little whirlwinds, spinning out of control.

Staring up at the ceiling, she pictured his face, the intensity of his gaze, and the tight lines bracketing his mouth. He was not a man prone to amusement, the severity of his features suggesting he’d had his fair share of troubles. But whenever she caught him observing her, she came alive in ways she’d never imagined she might. It was intoxicating and frightening in equal measure, and since she’d no experience with such things, she hadn’t a clue how to deal with it besides doing what she could to preserve her reputation and leave the source of these strange new sensations.

Which was why, when Radcliff informed her of a fallen tree the following morning, she determined it would not be enough to keep her in Ravenworth’s home for one more second. Not after eating breakfast alone and being told his lordship had said she was welcome to play the piano or stroll through the gallery or pass her time with some painting. He, however, would not be joining her.

So she’d returned upstairs and packed the few things she’d removed from her bag. Looking out of her bedchamber window, she considered the thick snow blanketing the ground. Travelling through it on foot was going to be tiresome but not impossible. And since it was daylight, she was confident she’d find her way to Amberly Hall, even if she had to climb over a fallen tree in order to do so.

With her mind made up, she penned a note of thanks to Ravenworth, put on her pelisse, and wrapped her shawls around her. Tying her bonnet into place, she slipped on her gloves, took one last look at the room, and carefully entered the hallway. Pausing there, she listened for any approaching footsteps. All was silent. She expelled a sigh of relief and made her way toward the stairs. She stopped there again, her heart leaping a little when Radcliff crossed the foyer below. He didn’t look up, however. Nor did the footman who followed him through to the hallway.

Eve clenched her fists, steadying her resolve. She wasn’t a prisoner, but if they caught her trying to leave, they would name all sorts of reasons why she ought to postpone her departure. And that was something she couldn’t allow. Not with her future hanging in the balance and her sisters expecting her to get introduced to a few potential suitors. Certainly not when she feared her heart might have opened too much to a man whom she barely knew, a man who would never want to make her a permanent part of his life. His rank was too elevated compared with hers to allow for such a possibility. And she was a fool to even consider it.

So she tiptoed down the stairs, hurried across the floor, and eased the front door open. Stepping out into the chilly air, she closed the door gently behind her. Then she took a deep breath and strode out into the snow.

* * *

Awakened by a loud pounding sound, Bryce groaned in response to the pain slicing its way through his skull and rolled onto his side. “Go. Away.” Unless a catastrophe had occurred, he’d no desire to rise. Whoever dared to disturb him after he’d made it clear he wished to be left alone was going to be dismissed.

“My lord?”

Bloody hell!

He climbed from the bed and flung his robe over his shoulders, tied it shut, and marched across to the door. Pulling it open, he glared at Radcliff. “Someone had better have died,” he growled.

Seemingly unfazed by his angry outburst, Radcliff spoke with swift precision. “Miss Potter has gone.”

His comment put Bryce back on his heels. “Gone?” He scratched his head. “So the snow and ice have melted, and the road is once again passable?”

“No, my lord.”

Bryce stared at his butler. “What exactly are you telling me?”

“To be blunt, she slipped out, leaving behind a note for you in her bedchamber.” Producing said note, Radcliff handed it over.

A swift touch of dread sliced through Bryce’s body. He unfolded the paper and read, his heart thumping faster and faster with each passing word. She was grateful for his hospitality and apologized for not seeming more appreciative. I am sorry for what I said. It was unkind and unjust. You are a good man, and I have been fortunate to know you. And yet she was gone, out into the freezing cold in her black pelisse and threadbare shawls.

“When did she leave?” he asked. An image of her trembling body from two days earlier snuck its way to the front of his mind.

“An hour ago, I should think.”

Bryce winced and muttered a curse. Her note crumpled in the palm of his hand. “Tell Jenkins to come and help me dress.”

“I am already here.” His valet materialized from around the corner of the doorway.

“Good.” Bryce spun away from his servants and went to wash his face, only dimly aware Jenkins followed him into the room and proceeded to lay out clean clothes. His mind was on Miss Potter. What the devil was she thinking to go out into such weather alone without any idea of where she was heading? She’d likely get lost again and…

His gut clenched in response to all of the awful outcomes he could imagine. “Let us make haste,” he told his valet. With an hour’s head start, there was no telling how far she’d gone or how easily he would be able to find her.

* * *

Gritting her teeth, Eve tried to stand again, only to fall back when splintering pain shot through her ankle. She’d most likely twisted it after losing her balance and falling over. So now she sat, waist deep in the freezing snow and too far away for anyone to hear her calling for help. She’d already tried to do so repeatedly, until her voice had gone hoarse and only a weak little sound emerged.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she fought the shivers shaking her shoulders. If she could only find a fallen tree branch to offer support, she’d be able to make her way forward again. But there were no branches in sight, only a wide smooth surface of unforgiving whiteness.

Teeth chattering, she pushed herself up once more, whimpering in response to the pain as tears started to burn the back of her eyes. Staying here and freezing to death was not an option. She tried to step forward, but collapsed with a suffering groan. Oh God! What an idiot she’d been to leave the comfortable warmth of Ravenworth’s home. Why hadn’t she listened when she’d been told the roads were impassable?

Because staying there with him had felt impossible. She’d needed to get away. And now she was hurt and stranded, and it was beginning to rain. The first icy droplets fell on her head with a slow drip, drip. Seconds later, what might have been nothing more than a bit of additional dampness had turned into a steady downpour of sleet. Eve’s throat began to close, and the first hot tears slid down her cheeks. She would die here, cold and alone and without fulfilling her duty.

Sobbing while water soaked through her clothes, she forced herself to stand once more, but taking one single step would have been difficult on a warm sunny day. In deep snow, it was impossible. Equally impossible was the chance of anyone rescuing her any time soon. Which was why she was startled to hear a voice shouting what sounded as though it might be her name.

She paused to listen and had begun to think she must have imagined it when she suddenly heard it again. It was louder this time. “Miss Potter!”

She twisted around, looking between the trees in the direction from which it had come. “Over here,” she called as loudly as she could manage.

A few seconds passed, and then a figure emerged, striding forward with hunched shoulders and a deliberate stride. Ravenworth. He hadn’t sent a footman or some other servant out to look for her. He’d come to find her himself. She was mortified by the prospect of having to face him after the trouble her leaving had caused, but she was too grateful to care about any of it at the moment. Instead she waved her hand to make sure he’d seen her.

It wasn’t until he was almost before her that she could see his face and the furious expression he wore. “You…” Whatever he meant to say was snuffed out by a misty puff of air. He bent down beside her, studying her appearance. His eyes met hers in an unyielding stare, forcing her to shrink back a little. “Are you hurt?” he asked.

Nodding, she told him about her ankle and how much it pained her to move.

His nostrils flared, and then he reached out, sliding his arms beneath her and picking her up. “We’ll discuss your stupidity later.” He turned and headed back toward the house. “For now, the most important thing is to get you dried off before you catch your death.”

Knowing nothing she said would erase her error in judgment, Eve held her tongue and settled against him. He might be angry with her, but that did not diminish how safe she felt in his arms. His strength seeped through her. It lifted her spirits and offered a welcome sanctuary where the wet and the cold were swiftly forgotten. All she could think of was him, the firmness of his chest and the way water clung to his hair. His jaw, set in a strict line, was rough with day-old bristles, affording him with a rugged look that made her heart beat even faster.

Dipping his chin, he glanced down at her. His eyes narrowed. “What is it?” he asked in a tone of undeniable irritation.

Smiling, she nestled her head against his shoulder. “Nothing,” she murmured. “I think I rather like you, that’s all.”

He said nothing by way of response, but she felt his chest vibrate with a guttural sound to match his unkempt appearance. Pressing her cheek to the place where his heart resided, she could feel the vital organ drumming a wild tattoo. It warmed her to no end, because it suggested that in spite of his stern expression and the clipped tone with which he’d spoken, he would eventually forgive her for doing what she had done, even if he did mean to chastise her first.

* * *

Pushing his feet through the snow, Bryce marveled at how Miss Potter had managed to walk as far as she had. It certainly proved how determined she’d been to leave his home in favor of Amberly Hall. But when he’d finally happened upon her, the gratitude lighting her eyes had made his heart swell with something surpassing the attraction he had toward her. Relief had been one emotion, brought on by the fact he’d actually found her. Anger had also been prevalent, inspired by the fear of what might have happened if he hadn’t. But there had been thankfulness too, the kind that made him realize he cared a great deal about her well-being.

And then she’d smilingly told him she liked him, and he’d been lost lost in the feel of her trembling form pressed up against him and lost in the startling awareness he would never again let her go. It shocked him to think of it, all things considered. The irrationality of it could not be denied. And yet, the idea of losing her, of worrying where she might be in the world and of what might be happening to her…

He shook his head. He didn’t even know her given name. To imagine building a future with her made no sense whatsoever. Except it made perfect sense. And although he might not know much about her, he knew her character.

She was fiercely determined, loyal toward her sisters, intent on doing her duty, and daring too. Embarrassed as she had been when she’d realized he’d seen her naked, she hadn’t crumbled in a fit of hysterics, but faced him and given him a proper set down to boot. Which meant she wasn’t a coward but rather…a perfect match.

Setting his jaw, he pushed back the thrill that threatened to give him hope, and focused on getting her home instead. She liked him. That was surely a good beginning. Whether she would continue to like him later when she discovered what he’d been accused of was a different matter. He would not think of that now. But he would take advantage of their situation. While the weather remained what it was, she was his guest. Which presented him with a wide variety of possibilities, most notably the chance of endearing himself to her even further.

* * *

Awoken by whispering voices, Eve kept her eyes closed and strained to listen. It sounded as though they were far away and muffled. A door creaked open. The gentle tread of approaching footsteps brought someone closer, shifting the air around her. Peeking beneath her lashes, she spied a man’s jacket and opened her eyes more fully to find the earl standing over her bed with a grave expression. It softened as he watched her come more fully awake.

“I hope I didn’t disturb you,” he said.

His voice was gentler than usual and his eyes… Eve caught her breath. “You look worried.”

Grimacing, he pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. “A willful woman determined to brave the elements at her own peril is presently in my care. What reason do I have to worry?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, not shying away from the turbulent look in his gaze. “I just…I was sure you wanted me gone, and I also feared what might happen the longer I stayed. But it was foolish of me to attempt to reach Amberly Hall in this weather. Especially after being told doing so would be dangerous.”

“At least you’re owning up to your mistake.”

She winced. “I believe I’ve been punished with an ankle that hurts like the devil.”

Tilting his head, he raised his eyebrows as if to say, “You’ve only yourself to blame.” But he didn’t. Instead, he told her something completely different. “I treated you unfairly yesterday. Avoiding your company was inexcusably rude and inconsiderate. So I’m not surprised you believed you were unwelcome here. For that, I am truly sorry, Miss Potter.”

“Eve.” She didn’t know why she felt compelled to share her name with him, but since he’d saved her from the elements and was showing nothing but kindness when what she truly deserved was for him to be vexed with her, it seemed incredibly right.

His eyes widened, the pupils dilating while tiny flecks of gold popped into view. “Eve.” He spoke her name on a whisper of breath, and with such reverence, she almost melted right then and there. “What a lovely name. It suits you tremendously.”

Smiling up at him, she didn’t quite know what to say besides, “Thank you.” But she could sense something had shifted between them, as if they’d crossed a wide expanse to meet in the middle. It felt incredibly good and right, better than anything else ever had.

His eyes drifted down the length of her duvet-covered body before returning to her face. “Your foot will require a few days’ rest. If you need help with anything, simply ring the bell-pull here.” He gestured toward the velvet rope hanging beside her bed. “Day or night, it doesn’t matter, Eve.”

“I’d hate to bother anyone.”

“No arguing,” he told her sternly. “You are not to leave this bed without assistance. Is that clear?”

“You’ve shaved,” she said, not answering his question.

A look of disorientation overcame him. “What?”

Settling back against the plump pillows, her eyes grew heavy. Her eyelids began to close. “You were so,” she yawned, “rugged earlier.”

A pause before asking, “You liked it?”

“Mmm hmmm.” She was drifting away.

“Promise me you’ll call for help if you need it,” he said.

“I promise.”

Sound faded into the distance as sleep overwhelmed her, though she did imagine the barest hint of a kiss being pressed against her brow. A dream, most likely. That’s what it was. And she welcomed it with pleasure.