“The duke might also have a pair of skates for you if you wish to skate the pond. The winters at Haddington can seem as if they drag on and on, but I find if one can dress for the weather, there is fun to be had. Is there anything else you need, miss?”
Tilly eyed her toast with butter and jam, and her stomach gurgled. “No, thank you.”
The lady’s maid whisked out of her room just as quickly as she had whisked in, and Tilly enjoyed breakfast in bed all the while knowing the earl was somewhere in this vast house.
Did he prefer the mornings or the evenings? What did he enjoy doing? She couldn’t see him singing along as she played the piano. Maybe he preferred the library or a game of chess?
It made no difference because she had no right to know. They were strangers, and a snowstorm saw them snowed in together in some cruel twist of fate, but they must remain strangers.
They must, or surely, she would lose her heart to him. If she hadn’t already.
She quickly dressed, visited with Mrs. Craven, then decided to spend some time out in the country air.
The stone stairs were shoveled but slick as she made her way down to the sleigh.
“Would you like to join me?” a deep voice asked from behind her.
Tilly turned, holding her skirts tight to stop herself from throwing arms around the earl. What luck to find him again. And what horrible timing.
“Join you? I was going to enjoy a sleigh ride by myself.”
“I had arranged for a ride as well. I apologize. I didn’t realize…”
She had never been so tongue-tied in her life as she met his stare and swallowed in his earnest manners. Damn him and his gentlemanly ways.
“I will go skating. Please, enjoy—”
“I insist. I don’t wish to interfere—” he said, speaking over her.
“—the ride. It’s a beautiful day.” She laughed. Well, not laughed. That would have required dignity, which she had none at the moment because she tittered like a schoolgirl. She couldn’t speak around the earl, couldn’t think around him. And now she couldn’t act as if she hadn’t already lived lifetimes in her twenty-one years.
“I will go skating,” she insisted again, avoiding eye contact. “You can tell me all about the sleigh ride later.”
“Very well.”
The earl climbed up into the sleigh and settled beneath a blanket.
“Are you avoiding me, Miss Brennan?”
“I don’t know you,” she hissed, glancing toward the driver. “We have only met. And I cannot be in your company without Mrs. Craven as my chaperone.”
He nodded. “I understand.”
Guilt swallowed her up. First, she acted a fool, and now she was no better than a pretentious shrew. He was much too polite to make light of her excuse.
“I will go skating,” she repeated, this time softer. “And though I should not say it, I am glad to see you once again.”
For a moment, he was quiet. Seriousness settled over his features. “Are you warm enough to go skating? Should I send for more blankets?”
“I don’t believe I need blankets to go skating. I will be fine.”
“Fine,” he said. It settled over his lips like he had swallowed a fly. He signaled for the driver to move forward, and the sleigh took off, leaving Tilly there in the courtyard.
Alone.
And she only had herself to blame.
Miss Matilda Brennan.
While at dinner last evening, dining on the most delicious roast he’d ever had the pleasure to eat, Mrs. Craven had referred to her as Tilly after one too many clarets.
Henry would have preferred to have enjoyed dinner with Miss Brennan, but she had taken dinner in her room. Leaving him alone with her crusty chaperone and giving him the distinct impression that she was avoiding him.
She could tell him otherwise, but she could hardly look him in the eye. She acted as if she were afraid of him, which was odd considering they had kissed in a dark forest when they first met.
He didn’t understand.
The sleigh rounded the corner, perched above the pond down below. Miss Brennan stood observing the pond, her arms akimbo on her hips. She was dressed in a beautiful burgundy cloak that only offset her fair coloring and bright fire-red hair. Her shoulders dropped with a deep sigh before she pushed off across the ice. With her arms wide out to catch her balance, she glided carefully across the ice before she waved her arms in giant circles and crashed onto her bottom.
He chuckled to himself the moment she tossed her head back and groaned.
Slowly, she struggled to stand back up as each limb went in the opposite direction she intended.
Henry climbed out of the sleigh and made his way to the freshly shoveled path down to the pond. He stood by, afraid to distract her.
She whirled around, her arms flailing and her eyes wide. “What are you…”
