Which was why, when Radcliff informed her of a fallen tree the following morning, she determined it would not be enough to keep her in Ravenworth’s home for one more second. Not after eating breakfast alone and being told his lordship had said she was welcome to play the piano or stroll through the gallery or pass her time with some painting.He, however, would not be joining her.
So she’d returned upstairs and packed the few things she’d removed from her bag. Looking out of her bedchamber window, she considered the thick snow blanketing the ground. Travelling through it on foot was going to be tiresome but not impossible. And since it was daylight, she was confident she’d find her way to Amberly Hall, even if she had to climb over a fallen tree in order to do so.
With her mind made up, she penned a note of thanks to Ravenworth, put on her pelisse, and wrapped her shawls around her. Tying her bonnet into place, she slipped on her gloves, took one last look at the room, and carefully entered the hallway. Pausing there, she listened for any approaching footsteps. All was silent. She expelled a sigh of relief and made her way toward the stairs. She stopped there again, her heart leaping a little when Radcliff crossed the foyer below. He didn’t look up, however. Nor did the footman who followed him through to the hallway.
Eve clenched her fists, steadying her resolve. She wasn’t a prisoner, but if they caught her trying to leave, they would name all sorts of reasons why she ought to postpone her departure. And that was something she couldn’t allow. Not with her future hanging in the balance and her sisters expecting her to get introduced to a few potential suitors. Certainly not when she feared her heart might have opened too much to a man whom she barely knew, a man who would never want to make her a permanent part of his life. His rank was too elevated compared with hers to allow for such a possibility. And she was a fool to even consider it.
So she tiptoed down the stairs, hurried across the floor, and eased the front door open. Stepping out into the chilly air, she closed the door gently behind her. Then she took a deep breath and strode out into the snow.
* * *
Awakened by a loud pounding sound, Bryce groaned in response to the pain slicing its way through his skull and rolled onto his side. “Go. Away.” Unless a catastrophe had occurred, he’d no desire to rise. Whoever dared to disturb him after he’d made it clear he wished to be left alone was going to be dismissed.
“My lord?”
Bloody hell!
He climbed from the bed and flung his robe over his shoulders, tied it shut, and marched across to the door. Pulling it open, he glared at Radcliff. “Someone had better have died,” he growled.
Seemingly unfazed by his angry outburst, Radcliff spoke with swift precision. “Miss Potter has gone.”
His comment put Bryce back on his heels. “Gone?” He scratched his head. “So the snow and ice have melted, and the road is once again passable?”
“No, my lord.”
Bryce stared at his butler. “What exactly are you telling me?”
“To be blunt, she slipped out, leaving behind a note for you in her bedchamber.” Producing said note, Radcliff handed it over.
A swift touch of dread sliced through Bryce’s body. He unfolded the paper and read, his heart thumping faster and faster with each passing word. She was grateful for his hospitality and apologized for not seeming more appreciative.I am sorry for what I said. It was unkind and unjust. You are a good man, and I have been fortunate to know you.And yet she was gone, out into the freezing cold in her black pelisse and threadbare shawls.
“When did she leave?” he asked. An image of her trembling body from two days earlier snuck its way to the front of his mind.
“An hour ago, I should think.”
Bryce winced and muttered a curse. Her note crumpled in the palm of his hand. “Tell Jenkins to come and help me dress.”
“I am already here.” His valet materialized from around the corner of the doorway.
“Good.” Bryce spun away from his servants and went to wash his face, only dimly aware Jenkins followed him into the room and proceeded to lay out clean clothes. His mind was on Miss Potter. What the devil was she thinking to go out into such weather alone without any idea of where she was heading? She’d likely get lost again and…
His gut clenched in response to all of the awful outcomes he could imagine. “Let us make haste,” he told his valet. With an hour’s head start, there was no telling how far she’d gone or how easily he would be able to find her.
* * *
Gritting her teeth, Eve tried to stand again, only to fall back when splintering pain shot through her ankle. She’d most likely twisted it after losing her balance and falling over. So now she sat, waist deep in the freezing snow and too far away for anyone to hear her calling for help. She’d already tried to do so repeatedly, until her voice had gone hoarse and only a weak little sound emerged.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she fought the shivers shaking her shoulders. If she could only find a fallen tree branch to offer support, she’d be able to make her way forward again. But there were no branches in sight, only a wide smooth surface of unforgiving whiteness.
Teeth chattering, she pushed herself up once more, whimpering in response to the pain as tears started to burn the back of her eyes. Staying here and freezing to death was not an option. She tried to step forward, but collapsed with a suffering groan.Oh God! What an idiot she’d been to leave the comfortable warmth of Ravenworth’s home. Why hadn’t she listened when she’d been told the roads were impassable?
Because staying there with him had felt impossible. She’d needed to get away. And now she was hurt and stranded, and it was beginning to rain. The first icy droplets fell on her head with a slow drip, drip. Seconds later, what might have been nothing more than a bit of additional dampness had turned into a steady downpour of sleet. Eve’s throat began to close, and the first hot tears slid down her cheeks. She would die here, cold and alone and without fulfilling her duty.
Sobbing while water soaked through her clothes, she forced herself to stand once more, but taking one single step would have been difficult on a warm sunny day. In deep snow, it was impossible. Equally impossible was the chance of anyone rescuing her any time soon. Which was why she was startled to hear a voice shouting what sounded as though it might be her name.
She paused to listen and had begun to think she must have imagined it when she suddenly heard it again. It was louder this time. “Miss Potter!”
She twisted around, looking between the trees in the direction from which it had come. “Over here,” she called as loudly as she could manage.
