Halted by the sound of her voice, Blake glanced in the direction from which it had come, his heart tripping the moment he found her. She was standing at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in a white woolen cloak, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Blake tightened his jaw. “Hmm?” he offered, feigning ignorance.
Her brows drew together. “You were talking to yourself.”
“Really?”
“It sounded as though you were voicing a complaint.”
He managed a strained smile. “Not at all.” Indicating the door, he asked, “Shall we?”
Her lips tilted with amusement, as though she knew precisely what he’d said, which only made him more irritable. Why hadn’t Bellmore warned him about his sister when he’d written? Somehow, against all odds, she’d grown into a woman who was destined to drive him mad.
Following her outside, he was allowed a moment to admire her shapely figure, acutely aware of the tingling in the tips of his fingers, urging him to reach out and…
She turned, her golden locks covered in a sparkling veil of snowflakes. He shook his head. Bellmore had recently been excusing himself from Blake’s company, claiming he had letters to write, a headache, or some important matter to see to. Curiously, these incidents had always ensured that Blake and Lady Melanie would be left alone together.
“My lord?”
Blake blinked, confounded by the fact that his friend, contrary to everything he’d said, was in on the matchmaking scheme. He wasn’t sure if he should pummel him or thank him.
Descending the front steps, Blake offered her his arm.
“Forgive me,” he said as he drew her closer to his side. A gasp escaped her, warming his insides as they started along a path that would take them to the far side of the garden. “I was just thinking about your brother.”
“Really?” She sounded genuinely surprised and perhaps even a little disappointed.
Glancing at her, he noted her frown. “He warned me about you when I came here for the first time – told me his sister was a hoydenish troublemaker.” He chuckled at the memory of it. “I believe I should have taken him more seriously than I did. Perhaps then I would have anticipated the bucket of water above the doorway or the dirt in my boots.”
“You never stood a chance,” she said as she glanced toward the sky.
“No,” he agreed. “I did not.”
They walked in silence for a while, the frosty air reddening their cheeks, until she suddenly said, “I am sorry about your jacket. It was never my intention to ruin it.”
Recalling the incident, which had involved some bread and a flock of hungry birds, Blake said, “I don’t think I’ve ever been more angry than I was then.” He’d left the house that very same day and sworn never to return. “You always did your best to get rid of me, and eventually you succeeded. Consequently, I am a little surprised by your willingness to share my company now. Unless of course you are leading me into a trap.”
She winced. The sound was unmistakable. “I never wanted to get rid of you, Ravensby, but I was a lot younger then, and I did not understand what I was…” She blew out a breath. “All I wanted was a bit of attention.”
“As far as I recall, you received plenty.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “But not from you.”
Her words shook him. Within the confines of his chest, he could feel his heart beating loudly, spurred on by hope. Was it possible? It seemed inconceivable. “What exactly are you saying?”
“Is it not clear?”
He drew her to a standstill and turned her toward him. “No. Not exactly. But I would like to understand, if you would care to offer an explanation.”
Melanie stared at Ravensby. Her heart was skittering along at a frantic pace and her stomach was turning itself inside out. This was it. The moment of truth.
“I like you,” she murmured. His expression grew rigid. “Indeed, I have always liked you.”
A frown puckered his brow. “You had a funny way of showing it.”
Dropping her gaze, she studied the thin layer of snow that covered the ground. “I know, but at least it forced you to pay attention to me. Unfortunately, it also ensured you would always consider me a pest, while I…” Looking up, she saw he was watching her with great anticipation. Emboldened, she said, “As I grew older, my feelings for you deepened, until it finally occurred to me that I have never loved another man as much as I love you.”
The words were spoken in a rush – before she had a chance to change her mind about saying them. But when all he did was stare at her as if she’d just dropped from the sky, she began to regret her bold declaration.
“You love me.” He sounded incredulous.
“No. I… Forget I said anything.” She started to turn away.
“Melanie.” His hand touched hers and before she knew it, he was pulling her into his arms. “You have driven me to despair for as long as I can remember, though never as much as these past few days.”
“I am sorry.” She could think of nothing else to say.
Laughing, he brought his hand to her cheek. “Your stubborn determination has slain me, Melanie. I am yours. My heart is yours.”
“Truly?” She could scarcely believe it.
“I love you with all that I am.” Kissing her brow, he said, “Thank you for not giving up.” He kissed her cheek next. “For making me realize how incredible you are.” His lips met hers, chasing away the cold and filling her with warmth. “Marry me, Melanie.” His breath brushed the edge of her mouth as he spoke between kisses.
“Yes.” Winding her arms around his neck she held on tightly while gazing at the man she loved. “Affianced on Christmas Eve. I cannot believe it.”
“I know what you mean,” he murmured. “But there is no doubt in my mind that I am the luckiest man in the world right now.”
“Should we go back inside and tell my parents?”
“Let them wait.” Taking her by the hand, he gave her a mischievous smile. “After all, we have not yet collected the mistletoe they sent us to find.”
Laughing, Melanie allowed him to lead her along the path, their boots kicking up a spray of snow as they hurried toward the place in the garden where more kisses awaited.
December 4
A Highwayman Proposes on Christmas Eve
“I hope you can forgive me for declining your suit, Devon, but I cannot possibly marry you.” Gazing at the handsome man she’d known since they were children, Rowena Bradley spoke the words she feared might ruin their friendship.
“Why?” He sounded affronted.
Oh dear.
The last thing she wanted was to upset him, but neither could she pretend she wanted to spend the rest of her life with someone who lacked the ability to sweep her off her feet. She wanted romance, grand gestures and endless surprises, but with Devon she feared she’d get trapped in the monotony she’d witnessed in her own parents’ marriage.
Expelling a breath, she linked her arm with his and drew him toward the window so they could admire the colorful flowers that brightened the garden. It was infinitely better than having to look at each other right now.