He pressed his palms against his eyes, trying to banish the images.
He’d done the right thing. The honorable thing. She deserved better than a moment’s passion with a man who couldn’t offer anything to her beyond that moment.
But honor tasted like ash when he remembered how she’d looked at him afterward. Like he’d confirmed every fear she harbored about her worth.
Aaron rose, pacing to the window. Dawn painted the garden in shades of pearl and gold. He’d maintained the boundaries that kept them both safe.
So why did he feel like the villain in this story?
Control. He needed to regain control. Last night had been an aberration brought on by danger and forced proximity. Today, things would return to normal. He would be the Duke of Calborough, she would be Lady Louise, and they would maintain an appropriate distance.
The resolution lasted exactly three hours.
Aaron descended for breakfast later than usual, having finally managed a few hours of restless sleep.
The house hummed with normal morning activity. Maids polishing silver. Footmen carrying coal. Mrs. Hammond directing everything with quiet efficiency.
Laughter drifted from the garden.
Against his better judgment, Aaron moved to the window. The scene beyond the glass struck him with unexpected force.
Emily had constructed what appeared to be a snow fortress, though it looked more like a lopsided cake. Buttercup romped through the snow, sending white powder flying with every bound of his massive paws. The dog wore another of Cecilia’s bonnets, this one bright blue with trailing ribbons that he kept trying to catch.
“Lady Merrow, should Buttercup wear the bonnet, or would he prefer my scarf?” Emily asked solemnly.
Cecilia stood wrapped in furs, clapping her gloved hands in delight at the spectacle. And beside her, Louise smiled. Not the careful, controlled expression she usually wore, but something genuine and unguarded. The morning sun caught her hair, turning it to flame against the white landscape.
“Oh, definitely the bonnet,” Cecilia replied. “It brings out his eyes.”
Buttercup chose that moment to attempt a leap over Emily’s fortress. His bulk destroyed it instantly, sending child and dogtumbling into the snow in a tangle of limbs and laughter. Cecilia shrieked with mirth, doubling over.
And Louise threw her head back and laughed.
The sound couldn’t penetrate the window glass, but Aaron felt it anyway. Felt it in his chest like a physical touch, warm and impossibly gentle. This was who she could be without the weight of responsibility crushing her. Without the constant fear of what tomorrow might bring.
Without him reminding her of all the reasons she couldn’t have what she wanted.
Louise’s gaze lifted to the window. Their eyes met across the frozen garden, and her laughter died. She nodded at him and then whispered something to his aunt.
Aaron stepped back from the window as if burned.
He couldn’t face her. Not yet. Not when the memory of her skin still burned on his fingertips.
He strode down the corridor to his study, closing the door with more force than necessary. Here, surrounded by ledgers and correspondence, he could pretend last night hadn’t happened. Could rebuild himself into the man he needed to be rather than the one who’d almost lost himself in a pair of green eyes.
A knock interrupted his attempted escape.
“Enter.”
Mr. Thornton appeared.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Cartwright has arrived from Calborough Manor. He says you were expecting him?”
Aaron’s stomach dropped. The quarterly meeting with his estate manager. He had scheduled it himself three weeks ago, before Lady Louise Burrows had walked into his life and scattered his carefully ordered existence to the winds.
“Of course. Send him in.”
