Her heart bounced happily in her breast as she climbed from the bed, toes curling and shoulders trembling. A chill usually engulfed the steward’s cottage before the fires were lit.
Heedless of the discomfort, she proceeded to take care of her toilette. She knew her relationship with George was highly uncommon and that it would be frowned upon by many. He was after all the Earl of Ravencroft’s brother. Her father was Ravencroft’s steward. But when George had kissed her that one time he’d found her wandering the gardens during a ball, he’d sworn he did not mind the potential scandal. He’d promised he’d smooth things over with the earl, a somber man who seemed to wear a continuous scowl.
When she had questioned George’s chance of success, he’d told her he’d made up his mind. He wanted to be with her no matter what. Even if Ravencroft disapproved and it meant cutting ties with him forever. In short, George was prepared to face whatever repercussions his union with her might entail.
Warmth bloomed within her on that thought. And with the knowledge of what was to come. George would officially propose today and she would accept. Lord help her, she could scarcely wait and looked forward with eager anticipation to telling her parents the good news.
Michael Wentworth, Earl of Ravencroft, was in a snit. On Christmas of all days. And once again, it had everything to do with that idiot brother of his. Trust George to make a magnificent mess of everything, a mess Michael would once again have to manage. Damn and blast! He scrunched the missive he’d just finished reading into a ball and fed it to the fireplace flames. Miss Rivers didn’t deserve this.
Michael shuddered at the idea of facing her tears. Though carefully guarded behind hardened ribs, emotion still managed to find his heart and make it ache. Because of her. She, the kindest woman he’d ever known, was like a fairytale creature dancing on sunbeams. She radiated a joie de vivre he not only envied but longed to bask in if only she’d let him. But of course, romancing the help was not the done thing. Least of all for a peer. A lasting relationship would be impossible. And this was without adding George to the equation.
For George though, a second son whose brother approved such a match, it could work. Indeed, Michael had already taken strides to quash his own feelings and give the couple as much support as required. He loved them both and wanted their happiness.
What he ought to have taken into account but hadn’t was George’s fickleness. Despite his assurances and impassioned plea for permission to marry the woman of his own choosing, his carefree nature and overall lack of responsibility could not be suppressed for long. Now, regrettably, it would break Miss Rivers’ heart, destroy the faith she’d had in George, and dim her bright light with sadness.
Furious, Michael gritted his teeth and summoned his butler. “Please make sure my horse is readied by two. And should my brother return, you may tell him to go to the devil.”
Dressed in the woolen pelisse her parents had given her last Christmas and with a thick shawl draped over her shoulders, Claire huddled close to the folly wall as she waited for George. Mittens she’d knitted during the fall offered warmth to her fingers. She was slightly early, she knew, but with a thick layer of snow on the ground, she’d not been sure how long it would take for her to walk the mile distance.
A blanket of low hanging clouds bore the same shade as the swanlings Claire looked forward to feeding in the spring. She hugged herself against a frosty breeze and suddenly saw him, the dark silhouette of a rider perfectly seated upon a black stallion. She sucked in a breath as her stomach rolled over in anticipation of George’s arrival. Yet as he drew closer, she realized something was not as it should be, for the man whose horsemanship she admired appeared to have broader shoulders, to be more solidly built, and commanded the beast he rode with a skill she’d never witnessed from George.
Good lord. Her heart pounded as realization rushed through her veins. This was the earl, the most intimidating man she’d ever encountered, a man whose penetrating gaze always made her feel weak and unsure. And she would have to face him now – face the undeniable truth of him refusing to give her and George his blessing.
Well, she’d not stand for that. Especially since George had said his brother’s opinion would not matter. Which did make her wonder why George hadn’t come to support her in what was sure to become a heated discussion. Claire swallowed when Ravencroft pulled his horse to a halt and dismounted – a graceful movement of muscle controlling lithe limbs in a way that caused a strange flutter in the pit of her belly.
She took a deep breath, reminded herself to be calm and courteous lest her actions impact her father’s position. This wasn’t something she was prepared to risk for any reason, not even George.
“Miss Rivers.” Ravencroft’s voice was as strong and bold as the man himself. It demanded attention. “I’m glad to find you here and pleased to discover you’ve not been turned into an icicle during your wait. Apologies by the way, for not arriving sooner.”
Claire instinctively frowned. Was that a jest on Ravencroft’s part? From a man she’d never seen smile? It seemed impossible, and yet while his mouth remained in a firm line, there was an unmistakable twinkle in his eyes. She let herself relax a little. Perhaps things were not as bad as she feared. Perhaps he’d come to inform her that George was delayed.
“No need for apology, my lord, though I must confess I’m a little surprised by your arrival.”
He winced. “Yes. You expected my brother. How disappointing it must be to find me here in his stead.”
“That’s not what I meant to imply. I simply…” She shook her head, worried she might make things worse if she said something more. She’d no idea how much George had revealed regarding his plan for them to wed. “I’m sorry. I just don’t understand. Is your brother not coming?”
Whatever hint of humor Ravencroft had allowed moments earlier had been swept aside by granite. He watched her like a predator stalking its prey, his hard gaze seeping through layers of fabric and diving beneath her skin to wreak havoc upon her nerves.
Just when she feared her legs might give way beneath his hard censure, he swung away and began securing his horse’s reins to a nearby post. Claire took a few shuddering breaths and fought the urge to run. The world she knew felt wrong and off balance. George, the man she believed she would marry, had not showed up to their meeting. Instead, his intimidating brother had come to see her. And stranger still was the powerful effect he was having on her.
It toyed with her body and mind in ways nothing else ever had.
All in all, she felt like diving back into bed and staying under the covers until she could once again think straight and put all her muddled emotions in order.
Ravencroft turned back to face her before she was ready, slaying her every defense with the sheer command he exuded. Arm outstretched, he offered his hand. “Come walk with me please.”
An electric charge swept through Michael when Miss Rivers’ palm connected with his. He caught his breath and instinctively curled his fingers around hers, then helped her down the few steps leading from the folly and onto the ground. Loosening his hold, he slid her hand upward, looping her arm with his. Once she was tucked securely against him, he started forward at an easy pace.