He exhaled an ironic chuckle.
She had been the one to betray him. She was the one who left him.
“We mustn’t keep you from locating your friend, Lord Merriweather.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, causing her aunt to momentarily look up with a scowl.
“We’ll be certain to send word if we come across him,” Lady Tannenbaum added in a much friendlier tone.
But he couldn’t seem to look away from Eve. In that moment, her eyes reminded him of a forest after the rain, so lush and deep the green might fill a man’s soul.
“My thanks, My Lady.” Nick forced himself to look anywhere but at her.
Lady Tannenbaum had risen by now, her handkerchief and gloves covered with the sweet concoction. “Perhaps Eve will bake more pies this morning and bring one over for you to share with your friends. Or did I see a second one cooling on the table? Never let it be said that the good people of Maybridge Falls aren’t hospitable. Besides, food prepared at an inn is never as good as something cooked with love.”
Eve made a small strangled sound at the same time Nick took another step back. “That shouldn’t be necessary. The sun will melt the snow by then and we’ll be on the road without further delay.” But almost as though he’d doomed himself to the mercies of this cursed village, the sun chose that moment to disappear and large flakes of snow danced lazily on their way down from the clouds hovering above. As if to mock him, they danced faster and faster, falling from the sky.
Lady Tannenbaum laughed. “I don’t think you’re going anywhere today, My Lord.” She turned to her niece. “Run home and fetch the other pie. This kind gentleman and his traveling companions mustn’t go hungry. Meanwhile, I’ll collect our roast from Mr. Kringle. Good day, My Lord!” The elderly but spry lady pivoted with surprising grace and resumed walking in the direction she and Eve had originally been heading.
“Eve.” Her name escaped Nick’s lips unchecked. “I—” He what, exactly?
But then Eve turned and strode away from him even more quickly than her aunt had.
“Good day, Lord Merriweather.” Her voice cut through the falling snow as she disappeared.
It was a good thing, too.
He tilted his head back and stared up at the sky, heedless of the frosty crystals landing on his face. The possibility of coming across her again had crossed his mind—in London perhaps. Many years in the future.
But why now and why here?
Perhaps he would seek her out before they left, make amends and provide closure for both of them.
The last night he’d seen her had been a Tuesday. When no one had been watching, he’d slipped her out of the ballroom so that the two of them could walk in the garden, arm in arm. In the privacy of the gazebo, passion had nearly run its course. He’d stopped, of course, and he’d draped his jacket around her shoulders.
Two days later, when he’d shown up at Lord Bailey’s home in Mayfair intending to speak with her father, she was gone. The entire family had departed at the height of the Season.
It had been quite, quite obvious to him that she’d changed her mind.
He pushed the memory away and gazed around the village square once more. Where the hell was Dash?
Chapter 2
“Where have you been?” Holly’s blond curls bounced as she flounced down the stairs. At eight and ten, Eve’s youngest sister had once again forgotten she was supposed to be the youngest sister. “And why do you have pie dripping from your cloak?”
Eve set the empty pie dish on the side table with shaking hands and examined the mess she’d made.
“Is it ruined?” Their middle sister, Noelle, descended the staircase behind Holly with far more grace.
Most of the lovely crust she’d rolled out was now crumbled onto the ground, as were the sweet slices of apple. He’d broken her heart and then her pie. The cad. She hated him. Didn’t she?
“I crushed it in the square.”
“No, I mean your cloak.” Noelle assisted it off her shoulders carefully. “It’s your favorite—the one Mama bought you before you went to London… before she became ill.”
“It’ll come clean.” Eve swallowed hard. She’d suffered enough already over that man. Why was he here? Why now?
“Where is Mr. Clark?” Not once since their arrival had their aunt’s impressive butler failed to greet her at the door.
“Oh! It’s simply marvelous! He’s caring for the gentleman he rescued from the storm last night.” Holly’s eyes sparkled to impart such exciting information.
Eve’s brows shot up. “A gentleman?” He must be the person Nick—Lord Merriweather, that was—had been searching for. “That he rescued?” With her curiosity piqued, she forgot about the pie and her lovely cape for the moment and made her way up the stairs. Her sisters filed in line behind her.
“Why would a person go outside in the middle of a blizzard?” Holly queried.
“Too much to drink,” Noelle responded. All three sisters paused, turned, and met one another’s eyes in understanding. They’d seen their father succumb to it often enough.
“I didn’t hear anyone knock on the door.” Eve slid the oldest of her two younger sisters a dubious glance.
“He didn’t knock. He collapsed in the square,” Noelle explained.
“He’s lucky Mr. Clark is so aware. Even when he’s sleeping, apparently…” Holly added.
Noelle shifted, wringing her hands. “Surely, that must be the case.”
Eve stared at her middle sister, knowing full well Noelle was somehow involved in all of this. What had happened?
“Excuse me, ladies.” The tall figure of Mr. Clark loomed behind them in the corridor. Ever his impeccable self, his apparel was clean and pressed and the gloves on his hands were a pristine white. Eve pressed herself against the wall, so he could
