Thomas grinned. “I heard the miss was pretty.”
Ambrose glowered back. “The mare is the only one in question.”
“Of course, my lord.” They rose, and Thomas added, “Though it wouldn’t do to have the horse falter again, only this time when the miss has no one to help her.”
Blast. He hated that the man was right. “Let me know how the mare fares.”
“And the miss?”
Ambrose ran a hand through his hair and gripped the base of his neck where a headache began to form. “I’ll have Mary see to her while she’s here.”
Thomas opened his mouth to respond, but Ambrose cut him off with a glare. “Take care of the mare. Eve will be looked after. As soon as the horse can travel, they’ll both be on their way.”
“Eve, is it?” Thomas grinned.
Ambrose cursed and strode back to the manor through the falling snow. His bloody staff knew why he couldn’t allow the woman to stay and every damned one of them wore smiles from ear to ear this morning.
He shook off the snow when he entered the back door into the kitchen and whisked off his cloak. “It’s still coming down, Mary. Let me know if—” He stopped when he realized that it wasn’t Mary in the kitchen, but Eve. She smiled at him from her seat at the table where a cup of tea sat. A light blue dress replaced her sodden riding habit from the night before and her mahogany brown hair had been pinned up in a simple style. The dark color highlighted her blue-green eyes and creamy skin, and Ambrose found he couldn’t look away. She was entrancing.
“Mary will return in a moment. She stepped out to help Virgil with something,” Eve said.
Ambrose remained silent.
She traced the rim of her teacup with a slender finger. “Your house is quiet. Are they your only staff?”
He took a few steps into the kitchen, keeping ample space between them. “There is also Thomas. He’s attending your mare. Her leg isn’t bad, but Thomas believes it will be a few days before she can travel.”
Eve’s forehead furrowed. “I’m imposing on you. I apologize.”
Ambrose wanted to refute her words, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. All he could do was gaze at her like some lovelorn young buck.
“I don’t even know your name.”
Bollocks. He was being rude. “Ambrose Grey, Earl of Stamford.”
She sat straighter. “Thank you for taking my horse and me in last night, Lord Stamford. I fear what would have become of us.”
“It is unusual for a young woman to travel alone. In a snowstorm, no less. Who are you running from?”
The most delightful flush spread over her cheeks. She looked away. “What makes you believe—”
“All right. Now that’s finished… Oh, there you are, my lord,” Mary said as she walked back into the kitchen. “If you’re ready for breakfast, I can serve you both in the dining room.”
Ambrose strode for the door. He couldn’t sit in a room alone with Eve, watching her sip her tea and lick her lips as she ate or hear her hum as she enjoyed Mary’s cooking. That was an entirely different type of madness he was desperate to avoid. “I’ll take tea in my study. I have things to attend to.” He nodded to Eve and quit the room.
Mary brought a tray up to him later, which he’d been obliged to share with Alfred. The cat had yowled louder than the storm outside until he’d relented and offered him some cheese.
When he’d done every task he could think of, including a full review of his account ledgers, rearranging the books on his shelf, cleaning his paper blotter, and petting Alfred for a time, he conceded that he couldn’t stay in his study the entire day. The letters on the corner of his desk awaited his correspondence, but he didn’t have the patience or the desire to reply.
Once, he’d enjoyed spending the holidays with his family or friends. Games and songs, good food, and the warmth of the hearth. Exchanging a gift to show your regard. Those memories seemed a lifetime ago. Sometimes he wished he could still be part of those happy times. But that life had been taken from him. Only a fool would linger on dreams he knew to be impossible.One didn’t always get the things one wanted, even the desires wished so fervently by the heart. He knew that better than anyone.
Ambrose rose from his desk chair. “Keep an eye on our guest, Alfred. I must check the manor to make sure the storm hasn’t caused any damage.” Anything to keep his mind off his guest and those damned invitations.
The cat hopped down from his cushion by the fire and followed him.
Ambrose stepped into the hallway and crashed into Eve. His arms went around her instinctively, holding her close.
“Lord Stamford, I didn’t see you.” Her wide eyes with their full lashes gazed up at him in surprise. She gripped the fabric of his shirt. To steady herself or keep him close?
