“Eve Langley,” she replied softly.
He tilted his head. “I believe there is a Baron Langley. Your father?”
She nodded.
“Yet you fled unattended into a snowstorm. Is your father unkind?”
“Not precisely.”
Lord Stamford stepped closer. His eyes glittered down at her. “Abusive?”
“No. He…” She crossed her arms over her stomach, unable to meet his eyes. “He has drawn up a marriage contract for me with a man older than himself, who intends to use me for an heir, then lock me away somewhere so that I do not embarrass his family.”
“You are free to decline the arrangement though. That is your right,” he growled.
“My father said he’d force me to agree to the match if I refused. I feared he would, so I fled.”
He tipped her chin up, studying her face. “You’re afraid of him.”
Her throat grew tight. “I’m afraid of being locked away, forgotten, until I die. Like my grandmama.”
Pain etched his features and the earl closed his eyes. When he opened them, he asked, “Where had you intended to go?”
“There is a church that shelters women near here.”
He was silent.
Fear bubbled up her throat. Eve gripped his shirt. “Please, Lord Stamford. Please don’t make me return. I’ll leave once the storm is over, only please don’t send me back.”
One of his warm hands covered hers and the other stroked her jaw with gentle fingers. “You may call me Ambrose.” His thumb traced her lower lip.
Butterflies took flight in her stomach at his tender touch and the sound of his husky voice. She’d never felt this way around a man. No one had ever evoked the flutter of her heart or the warmth in her chest.
“I’ll not send you back, Eve. It is enough that one of us is imprisoned for life. A beauty as bright as yours should shine for all the world to see.”
Then he lowered his head and kissed her.
Eve melted under his tender kiss, lost in the feel of his lips against hers. It was her first kiss, and it was more wondrous than she’d ever imagined.
Ambrose moved his lips gently over hers, as he pulled her close to his chest.
When he lifted his head, he traced her lower lip one last time with his thumb, regret already flashing through his eyes. He stepped away from her.
“Forgive me, Eve. I should never have done that.”
Before she could protest, he strode out the library door, leaving her quite alone.
Chapter Six
Ambrose squeezed hiseyes closed and knocked back a shot of scotch. Brandy hadn’t drowned out the voices tonight. Perhaps something stronger would.
He sighed and looked into the dying coals of the fire. Eve was never far from his thoughts. Not since he kissed her. Learning what made her flee, unchaperoned, into a storm set his teeth on edge. What kind of man denied the wishes of his daughter to betroth her to a suitor she didn’t want? Was money involved? Something else? What of Eve’s other suitors?
He should never have kissed her. Ambrose knew it was wrong even as he lowered his head to taste her lips but couldn’t stop himself. Her mouth was as sweet as he’d imagined and holding her close had changed something inside of him. The emotions he tried hard to keep at bay for fear of lashing out at the people he loved, fueled by the curse, chipped away at his defenses. Ambrose had stopped wishing for a wife the day he moved to Greyhaven, but if ever there were a woman he would have chosen, it was Eve.
It took strength to flee her home and family with nothing but her mount and a small pack of food and clothes. Few would have risked it and instead given themselves over to a future without hope.
As he had done.
