The rogue standing at the mantel was the man she’d initially imagined him to be—before he’d ardently wooed her. Her mother had disapproved of his courting Eve at the outset, convinced that the handsome marquess didn’t seem the sort to settle down anytime soon.
And then there had been those rumors about the opera singer.
But Eve had believed him when he’d told her she was special. She had believed in him.
Unfortunately, her mother had been right. She knew this now.
Feeling unwelcome—confused, and angry—she dropped her gaze and backed out of the room. “Good day, then.” Stupid tears overflowed the moment she stepped outside.
She was over him. What on earth was the matter with her?
She couldn’t return home like this—she didn’t want to answer to her sisters or her aunt for why her eyes were swollen and red. Beyond caring where she ended up, she took off running. She ran behind the inn, past the mews, and into a path that cut through the thick grove of trees. Thick flakes were falling, cold air bit at her cheeks, and yet she continued undeterred. Her boots were wet, as was the hem of her dress and Aunt Winifred’s coat, but she picked her way through the brush and trees until a rushing stream blocked her from going any farther.
Ice formations edged the swift-moving water, and normally she would have found the entire scene quite pretty, but on this occasion, she was only grateful that she was alone now.
Dropping to her knees, she covered her face and choked on a sob.
Nick had wanted to be cavalier, to act as though seeing her again was of no consequence, but he couldn’t do it. Without making any explanation to Jack, and without stopping to put on a coat, hat, or gloves, Nick raced out the door to stop her.
But she wasn’t crossing the square back to her aunt’s home and if he hadn’t caught the flash of her hair, he’d have lost her.
What was she thinking, running into the storm like this?
Keeping his eye on the blur of gold and red, he stumbled into the trees, pushing back branches as he went and almost tripping more than once. Damnit, Eve, this isn’t like you.
The deeper he followed her, the more curious he became.
And worried.
Eve was not the sort of girl to kick up her heels and go running willy-nilly through a forest. She had always been proper, dignified. Except those moments when he’d managed to get her alone.
When he emerged, just at the edge of the grove, a brook meandered swiftly down the hill and, in the distance, he caught sight of a frozen-over lake.
He turned his head to the right and upon seeing her, sucked in a tight breath. She was on her knees, hands covering her face, long strands of golden-red hair falling forward.
“Eve.” His voice sounded hoarse. But she didn’t move. She couldn’t hear him over the rushing water.
Tentatively, uncertain what he was even going to say, he covered the distance between them.
“You shouldn’t be out here, it’s cold as hell.” He squatted beside her and rubbed his hands together to warm them.
“Go away.” She shook her head but then wiped at her eyes with her fingers. Nick pulled a handkerchief from the waistband of his trousers and placed it into her hand.
“Is it your intention to freeze me to death for the loss of your pie? Is this how a proper lady achieves her revenge for damaged baked goods?” It was a weak attempt to make her smile, and he knew it. He wasn’t comfortable with a lady’s tears—never had been.
She wiped at her eyes and then her nose and then finally turned to stare at him. “And everything else?” Her voice wobbled a little.
He clenched his jaw, the anger he’d thought he’d buried rising up all over again upon hearing those three words.
He should have known better than to rush into this weather after her with nothing to protect him from the cold. And now his breeches were soaked through and the leather of his boots all but ruined.
“You left me, if I remember correctly.” He barely managed to speak the words through clenched teeth.
“But you never came,” she fired back, her eyes flashing, her voice accusing. “It’s obvious everything you told me was a lie.”
“You could have at least had the courtesy to tell me you were leaving. If you didn’t want to accept my offer, a simple ‘no’ would have done the trick.” It still galled him that she hadn’t had the courage to face him herself.
He’d told her that he loved her. He’d assumed she felt the same when she’d taken his face in her hands and then pressed her mouth against his.
Damnit, she’d stolen his dismal-dreaming heart and then kicked it to the dogs. Even now, he fought the urge to take her into his arms, to kiss her senseless.
Nick had hoped his months in Paris and Belgium had erased the feelings he had leftover for her.
Perhaps it was good he’d found her today. He’d have his say and be done with it.
“It wasn’t necessary for you to leave London to escape me.” The moment the words left his mouth, he wondered if they were even true. He’d been a lovesick fool back then, and it was doubtful he’d have left her alone. He’d have done his best to convince her to marry him. He had loved her. Had she known he wouldn’t make it easy for her to leave him? The thought was a lowering one.
He dropped his hand from her shoulder and pushed himself back to his feet, disgusted with himself.
“But I—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” And yet, he couldn’t leave her out here all alone. It wasn’t safe. Any bastard could come along and take advantage of her. It seemed like a lovely village but the thought of anyone hurting her…
“You know I wasn’t trying
