By the forcefulness of the knock at her door, Chloe knew it could only be one man—so naturally, she ignored him. The pounding stopped and started again. It went on that way for several minutes.

“Chloe. Open this door or I will break it down.”

His tone had her scurrying. She knew he’d do it, and she did not want to be without a door.

She flung it open as best she could, given how heavy the darn thing was. “What do you want?”

“Will you let me in?”

She scowled at him. “No. Say what you came to say and then leave me alone.”

He shifted from foot to foot. “Garrick said one of the kitchen maids told him you had heard me say that which I should not have said.”

“Isn’t that just great. Does the whole damn castle know?” She stamped her foot, so angry that she wanted to throw something or scream—or both.

“Nay. I did not mean what I said. My eye ached something powerful, and I thought…I thought you could not care for a man as ugly as I.”

She opened the door wide enough to see if anyone else was in the corridor. Satisfied they were alone, she pursed her lips.

“When will you see your scars do not matter to me? You stomp and grumble, but deep down you’re a good person. So why can’t you get over it?” She was tired of him using his injury and the pain as an excuse to be a brat.

They both stood there, looking at each other, the silence stretching out. He broke it first. “Let me in so I may apologize for being an arse.”

“No, I don’t think so.” She stepped back into the room, her hand on the door. “I wish to read my book. Maybe I will talk to you tomorrow and maybe I won’t.”

Then she shut the door in his face. Why did relationships have to be so hard?

Leaning against the door, listening to him breathe, Chloe heard him mutter, “Vexing woman. Doesn’t she know how much I need her?” And then the sound of boots in the corridor as he walked away.

While Chloe got ready for bed, she thought about Richard. He was the first guy she’d really fallen in love with. The boyfriends she’d had the past few years were fine; they just didn’t make her feel everything so intensely.

Last year she’d fallen hard for Noah, thought he was the one, gave him her heart. But he’d stomped all over it after she caught him lying about drinking. She wasn’t against having a sip or two while she was underage, but Noah had a problem. He drank until he passed out on the weekends, thanks to parents who were too busy with their own lives to pay much attention to him.

When she’d confronted him, he actually denied it, tried to turn it back on her. Said she was uptight and boring, that everyone drank. It was the weekend and he wanted to have fun. Any excuse to avoid taking responsibility for his actions.

After a huge fight, he’d told her he’d quit drinking. For a few weeks she’d thought they would be okay, and then on a Saturday, when she was supposed to be helping Sara Beth with a project, she’d gone over to his house to surprise him and found him drunk by the pool. He sat there and lied about drinking, right to her face, even when she’d caught him. So she’d broken up with him. It had taken her six months to get over him and longer to trust again. But she knew now that it hadn’t been love; it had been intense infatuation, that was all.

After that, none of the guys she’d dated lived up to the stories her granda told her. Maybe it was because Richard was five years older than them. More mature. When she was with him, she felt safe. This was a guy who cared about others, not the latest baseball scores or playing video games or cars. Though he was a bit obsessed with his horses.

And he fought with real swords. No matter how many times she sat on the cold stone bench, she’d never grow tired of watching him in the lists, muscles bunching and shifting under his tunic and hose. He was amazing, and that was saying something, as she’d seen some really good swordsmen in the time she’d been here. The first clang of steel on steel always made her jump, much to Richard and Garrick’s amusement.

This relationship? If things fell apart, Chloe knew not only would it break her heart, but she was afraid she’d be ruined for all other guys.

With the bed curtains closed, the room was dark, though she could see a sliver of the banked fire in the hearth. All of a sudden, she sat up in bed.

“Spaghetti on toast.” It was December. She’d missed Thanksgiving. Her second favorite holiday after Christmas. It was a big deal back home, with tons of food and the whole day together. Her granda and Arthur argued about football while Chloe, her mom, and Gram listened to music, seeing who could find the silliest song and then singing it at the top of their lungs.

They’d get out the china and silver and eat together. Inside if it was cold and outside if it was warm enough. She loved eating outside at her gram’s. Hearing the waves crash against the shore. The colors of the water shifting with the tides.

The first holiday without her family.

Wait. Chloe rubbed her hands together. She had the perfect idea.