After the way she’d made him feel during that last kiss as if he could’ve taken her for his own, regardless of his original intent to woo Emma, had given him pause. The situation wasn’t to be taken lightly. Not when he had no restraint when she was near.
But it was Christmas, and their time together was limited. The holiday provided the perfect excuse to give in to his wish to be with her. The house party would soon end, and the chances of him seeing her again were small unless he specifically called on her. Besides, he didn’t want to act like an ass—kissing her one minute and ignoring her the next. He might have the reputation of a rogue, but he was a man of honor.
“What a beautiful day,” she remarked as she glanced at the sky.
“It is indeed. So nice of the weather to cooperate for this outing.”
“How true,” she said with a nod. “Otherwise, Christmas would’ve arrived before I purchased several gifts.”
When he’d considered who he wanted to buy gifts for, Lucy had been at the top of his list. Yet he had no idea what he might get her. And, he was willing to admit to himself, it was the perfect reason to spend more time with her.
“I’m wondering if I should apologize once again?” he asked, guilt filling him as he noted the way she avoided looking directly at him. She might’ve been the one to initiate the kiss, but he’d taken it further than she intended. Of that, he had no doubt.
She halted abruptly to look at him, the pink in her cheeks deepening. “Of course not. We’re both adults, capable of knowing our own minds.”
That was amusing, considering he didn’t feel as if he knew his mind at all. Not when he was around her.
“You intrigue me, Lucy. In many ways. I fear I allowed the moment to get away from me.”
She managed a more genuine smile. “As did I. We shall place the blame for the moment on the mistletoe. Perhaps it has more power than I gave it credit for.”
He chuckled, appreciating her humor. “Agreed. We’ll blame the mistletoe.” Her response made him like her even more. Many young ladies would’ve placed the fault entirely with him. But not Lucy. She was kind and honorable.
Damn.
Why couldn’t she be unreasonable and annoying instead? That would’ve made it so much easier to curtail his growing attraction.
They continued walking together and just as Hugh had hoped, she paused to look in a shop window.
“Is there something in particular you’re looking for?” he asked.
“Not really.” She continued to study the fancy bowls on display. “I made most of my gifts earlier in the year.”
“Made them?”
“I embroidered a few items.” She shrugged as she moved to the next shop. “Nothing special.”
“On the contrary. Handmade gifts are extra special.” And now he had to add talented and considerate to the list of her attributes. “I confess that I rarely think of gifts until the occasion has arrived when I must give them.”
“I can’t bear that sort of pressure,” she whispered as if telling him a secret. “I much prefer to plan ahead.”
“You’re wise in addition to being creative.” He clasped his hands behind his back as they strolled to keep from reaching for her hand.
“I hardly think a bit of needlework makes me either.”
“I disagree. Your skills surpass mine.”
She grinned, her previous wariness fading. “You’re a man. Which means you have a different set of skills.”
The only skills he could lay claim to were cards, dice, drinking, and seduction. But he thought it best not to mention them. After all, he was trying to set them aside for more valuable ones. Funny how much he wanted to do so when he was with Lucy.
She stopped before another shop window, her gloved fingers pressing against the glass. “Oh!” Her lips parted as she stared.
“What is it?” He noted a variety of figurines displayed, some small, some large. There were kittens reaching for a ball of yarn, a dog sitting with a hopeful look on its face, and other animals as well.
“The horse.” She pointed to a small statue of a black yearling with a white blaze on its forehead.
“You like horses?” His heart gave an uncomfortable twist to think they might have that in common.
“I do. I had one just like that. Her name was Arabella. Father gave her to me for my sixteenth birthday.”
The emotion in her voice spoke to just how much she’d loved the horse.
Her hand dropped from the glass pane as she released a breath then turned away purposefully as if she couldn’t bear to think about it overmuch.
“What happened to her?” The question popped out before he thought twice.
“She was sold along with most everything else after my parents died.” She glanced at him from beneath her lashes.
“I’m sorry.” His heart hurt for that young lady and the devastation she must’ve felt.
Lucy shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. “I miss my parents and that life. But I have many wonderful memories to give me comfort.” Her tone was brittle, making him wonder if that was a line she said to ease the discomfort of those around her rather than one she truly believed. “I’m lucky to have Aunt Edith.”
Anger shot through him. That was rubbish as far as he was concerned. She’d lost everything, including her future, when her parents died. She deserved to make new memories, not merely be comforted by old ones. How would she ever do that while stuck in the country, caring for her aunt?
The fact that her extended family made no effort to give her a Season or allow her to find someone to share her life with was an atrocity. Yet what could he say when it wasn’t his place to protest? Perhaps there was more to the situation than he knew.
“Do you like horses, Hugh?” She turned to him, her expression curious. The fact that she wasn’t filled with bitterness and regret amazed him.
“Yes, I do. Very much. In my youth, my brothers and I used to ride frequently.”
“What fun that must’ve been.”
He found himself telling her more about Graham and Thomas along with a few stories from his childhood. Anything to bring a smile to her face. He much preferred that over the grief she’d briefly displayed.
They strolled along, coming across other guests from the house party, waving at Emma, who was across the street. Before he realized it, he was telling Lucy about his dream of breeding horses.
“I’m certain you’d be brilliant at it. Have you started?”
“Graham has promised me the first foal for helping him select his horses. That will be the start.” He berated himself for allowing his longing to show. At least he had the freedom to choose what he wanted to do for the most part. Could Lucy say as much?
“Raybourne,” a male voice called.
Hugh turned to see Barnes and a few of the other men across the street. Barnes waved for him to join them. Though disappointed at having his time with Lucy interrupted, perhaps that was for the best.
“I’ve monopolized far too much of your afternoon,” he said as he looked back at her. “I should allow you to get on with your shopping.”
“Yes, I suppose I should. I need to find something for Emma. I don’t think she’d be pleased with merely an embroidered handkerchief.”