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 a
ctually 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.
4
Bryce knew what his butler was going to say before he opened his mouth. “My lord,” Radcliff began in that dry affected tone of his. “Regarding Miss Potter…”
Eve.
Bryce hadn’t been able to get her name out of his head since she’d mentioned it to him the previous day.
“Yes, Radcliff, I am aware of the impropriety of her prolonged stay here, but what would you have me do? I cannot throw her out, nor am I able to transport her to Amberly Hall. So what choice do I have but to ensure she is comfortable and well cared for while she is here?”
“None whatsoever,” was Radcliff’s shocking reply.
Bryce stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”
The older man raised his bushy eyebrows, took a step forward, and closed the door to Bryce’s study behind him. “If I may speak plainly, my lord?”
“Of course.” Bryce leaned back in his chair. He was more than a little curious to hear what his butler was going to say.
“When Miss Potter first arrived,” Radcliff began, “I was very much opposed to the idea of her remaining here, even though there was no alternative, given the road conditions.”
“Your point?”
“Well, the thing of it is…” Radcliff drew a deep breath. “After the incident, your lordship has stopped all attempts at courtship, so I was thinking, hoping actually, with Miss Potter spending several nights here in your home without chaperone, you might consider making an offer. Of marriage, that is.”
It was something Bryce had been thinking over, though he did not say so. He was far too intrigued by the fact Radcliff appeared to be blushing. “I have not compromised her,” he murmured.
“No one will know that.”
Wincing, Bryce met his butler’s eyes directly. “You’re right there. Everyone will think the worst.”
“Then perhaps—”
“Miss Potter deserves a choice. She did not stay here of her own free will. On the contrary, she made a valiant effort to leave. So I intend to help her do so once the roads become passable. If it comes to it, I expect you and the rest of the servants to say she was never alone in my company.” Yesterday, he’d decided not to let her go. Today, with a clearer mind, he’d acknowledged that doing so was his only option. For one thing, he wouldn’t keep her by force, and for another, she had to be given the freedom to make her own decision.
Radcliff nodded. “You have my full support, my lord, though I do wish you would reconsider. Seems to me the two of you would get on well as husband and wife.”
“Not when she finds out about what I did.”
Radcliff snorted. “You did nothing wrong.”
“Nobody has ever believed that. Not even my own family.” His shoulders grew tense so Bryce made an effort to relax them.
“Yet another reason for me not to like them.”
Bryce smiled. He appreciated the loyalty. “But you like Miss Pot
ter?”
“I do. Which is why I think it might be best if you were to tell her what happened yourself.”
“It won’t change her purpose in coming here. What she wants is to go out and make good connections. I am not a good connection, Radcliff. Which is why I intend to have her brought to the Havisham home at the first opportunity. Her friend can take her dancing at the assembly hall and introduce her to gentlemen more eligible than I.”
Radcliff sighed. “Very well, my lord, but as your butler and longtime employee, I think it is my duty to tell you when you are being an idiot.”
The comment was so swiftly delivered and with Radcliff’s typically affected tone, it took a moment for Bryce to comprehend that the man had insulted him, at which point he had departed the room, leaving Bryce alone to reflect upon their conversation. It was tempting to do what Radcliff suggested–to convince Miss Potter that, under the circumstances, she really did not have other options but to marry him. It would certainly put an end to his craving for her since she would finally be his. But it would also be inexcusably selfish. And because he cared about her, he wanted to give her the chance to fulfill her dreams – to reach for the future she’d come here hoping to gain.
Drumming his fingers upon his desk, he resolved to go and check on her. The maid he’d assigned to her care had told him she was awake an hour ago, which meant she must have finished her breakfast by now. He stood and paused. If he truly wanted to protect her virtue, he’d keep his distance until she was able to get on her feet and meet him downstairs. But that could take days, by which time the roads would likely have cleared, and she’d be well on her way to her next destination.
To hell with it.
She was already in his home. His sitting by her bedside was hardly going to make matters any worse. So he went to the stairs, taking them two at a time in his sudden haste to see her. No woman had ever consumed him as much as she did.
Reaching her door, he stopped for a second to gather his composure. It wouldn’t do for him to look like an eager young lad succumbing to love. Yet that was how he felt. His heart pounded and his body trembled while his stomach turned itself inside out. Love? It couldn’t possibly be. He did not know her well enough. And yet the idea of her lying in there, hurt and in pain, was enough to make his soul ache. So he drew a breath and knocked on the door as calmly as he could manage, intent on hearing her tell him how she was feeling.
The Earl Who Loved Her (The Honorable Scoundrels Book 2) Page 4
