She moved closer to Aaron as she spoke, close enough that he caught her scent of lavender. The past days of skating and family dinners and quiet evenings had worn down his distance until he sought her proximity without conscious thought.
“You’re both terribly practical and unromantic,” Cecilia declared. “Dear Emily, we shall establish a squirrel feeding station immediately. Buttercup, stop drooling at them. You’re far too slow to catch one.”
The dog whined in disagreement but remained focused on the tree where the red squirrel chattered indignantly at their presence.
“We should continue walking before Buttercup decides to prove his hunting prowess.” Aaron offered Louise his arm, natural as breathing now.
She accepted with a smile that made his chest tighten. They strolled deeper into the garden while Emily ran ahead, Cecilia and Buttercup following at a more sedate pace that allowed for commentary on faded rosehips, brittle seed heads, and the stubborn greenery of evergreen shrubs they passed.
“She’s happy,” Louise said quietly, watching Emily chase shadows across the lawn.
“So are you.” Aaron studied her profile. “It suits you.”
Color rose in her cheeks. “These past days have been wonderful.”
“Indeed.” Aaron stopped walking, turning to face her fully.
Behind them, Cecilia had become distracted by instructing Emily on proper squirrel feeding etiquette. They stood in relative privacy beneath the drooping branches of a willow, hidden from the house.
His hand rose to cup her cheek without his permission. “Louise …”
She leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed. “We shouldn’t. Not here.”
“No one can see us.”
“That’s not what I meant.” But she swayed closer, drawn by the same magnetism that had been pulling them together since that first night.
Aaron bent his head, intending a brief kiss, a mere brush of lips. But the moment their mouths met, control shattered. Louise made a soft sound that destroyed his remaining resistance. He pulled her against him, one hand tangling in her hair while the other pressed against her back.
She responded with equal fervor, her fingers gripping his coat as if anchoring herself in a storm. The kiss deepened, became something desperate and necessary. Everything else fell away: the garden, their circumstances, and the impossibility of their situation. There was only Louise in his arms, warm and willing and absolutely perfect.
A tremendous crash, followed by barking, shattered the moment.
They broke apart to see Buttercup tearing across the lawn in pursuit of the red squirrel, his lead trailing behind him. The squirrel darted directly toward them, using Louise’s skirts as a highway to reach the willow’s trunk.
Buttercup, unable to stop his momentum, crashed into Louise at full speed. The lead tangled around her legs as the dog spun, trying to follow the squirrel’s vertical escape. Louise cried out as her feet went out from under her.
Aaron lunged forward but could not reach her in time. She toppled backward into the ornamental pond, landing with a splash that sent water cascading over the stone edges.
“Louise!” He plunged in after her, not caring that the water soaked through his boots immediately.
The pond was shallow but frigid, winter not yet finished with its grip.
Louise sat in the middle, gasping from the cold shock, and her beautiful walking dress ruined beyond salvation. She tried to stand but cried out again, her face paling.
“My ankle.” She gripped his arms as he lifted her. “I think I twisted it.”
Aaron swept her up entirely, carrying her from the pond as Cecilia and Emily came running.
“Good heavens!” Cecilia took in the scene with wide eyes. “Buttercup, you absolute disaster of a dog!”
Buttercup sat beside the pond, tail wagging, apparently proud of his squirrel hunting efforts despite the chaos created.
“Is Louise hurt?” Emily’s voice trembled with worry.
“She’ll be fine.” Aaron shifted Louise in his arms, noting how she shivered violently. “But she needs to get warm immediately. Cecilia, can you manage Lady Emily?”
“Of course. Go, quickly.”
