Page 28 of Claiming His Christmas Angel

Atticus reached for a square piece of cake sitting on top of the small tower. As he bit into the moist cake, a rush of pleasure surged through him. If he ever lost his fortune, he would still have a wife who had the skill to make one of his favorite desserts. The thought made him grin with happiness and delight. Octavia laughed at his reaction.

“If everyone were so easy to please, the world would be a happier place.”

“Unlike a great number of people, I find it’s the simpler things that make me happy and content.” Atticus finished the bar of cake and reached for another one of the treats, then held it up to her. “However, I plan on ensuring I’m the only one allowed to rescue you every time there’s a snowstorm. It means I’ll enjoy more gingerbread cake.”

“I think this storm is an exception to the rule,” Octavia said with another lighthearted laugh. “I doubt there will be anything like it for at least another decade or more.”

“Possibly.” Atticus nodded as he savored the cake’s gingery flavor. “But I can’t think of anyone else I would rather be snowed in with.”

Octavia’s eyes widened as she stared at him in astonishment. With a small smile, Atticus shrugged his shoulders.

“You’re surprised I enjoy your company?”

“Well…I…yes.”

“Why?” Atticus angled his head to the right to study her intently. Beneath his gaze, her cheeks became flushed with pink color.

“Well…we don’t even know each other.”

“That’s not quite true. I happen to know a great deal about you,” Atticus said with a grin, remembering how happy Octavia’s family had been to share stories about her.

“I don’t see how.”

“Your family has been an excellent source of information where you’re concerned.”

“My—” Octavia halted abruptly and narrowed her gaze at him with suspicion. “How do you know my family?”

“You forget Liza is good friends with your sister. I’ve made it a habit to serve as my sister’s escort whenever she visits Clara.” Leaning back in his chair, Atticus studied the bar of cake in his hand. “In fact, when I learned your father and I share similar opinions in politics I would visit with him while Liza was with your sisters. I’ve come to admire him a great deal.”

“I see,” she murmured in a dispassionate tone that made him shift his attention to her.

“No, I don’t think you do.” Atticus shook his head, trying to center his thoughts. “I was determined to apologize for my unintentional insult. Since you refused to receive me the morning after our first meeting, I spent the remainder of that week calling on you. However, every time I called, Colton informed me you were unavailable. What he failed to mention was that you’d left London.”

“Colton excels in his position, and there are some boundaries he would never cross,” Octavia huffed beneath his accusatory look.

“Something tells me the man was instructed not to inform me you’d fled the city.” The words caused more color to flare in her cheeks, and Octavia tipped her chin upward in a defiant tilt.

“I did not flee. I had already made plans to live here in the cottage.”

“Ah, yes, your decision to retire from society and live a quiet life in the country. As I understand it, you didn’t inform your parents of your decision until the morning after we met,” Atticus said quietly, and her face reddened even more. Her lips moved as if she was about to protest, but before she could speak, he continued. “However, no one bothered to inform me of your departure, so I resorted to accompanying Liza to Montford Place most days in the hope I would see you again to ask your forgiveness.”

“And when you didn’t,” she said coolly. “You decided to ingratiate yourself with my family.”

“No, my friendship with your father, and the rest of your family, is a pleasant outcome of my efforts to see you.” Atticus sighed as her gray eyes grew steely with distrust.

“I’m not sure whether or not I should find your persistence flattering or worrisome.”

“Perhaps a bit of both,” he said. The memory of bowing to her from the sidewalk beneath her window at Montford Place made his mouth twitch. “But then I think our silent conversation the morning after the Ealing affair made you realize just how determined I was to make amends. It’s why you fled town so quickly.”

“As I said a moment ago, I did not flee the city,” she snapped, flushing with anger. “And I think it the height of arrogance for you to presume you had anything to do with my decision to leave London. I had already decided to leave town before the debacle in the Ealing’s gardens.”

“I see,” he murmured as his fingers drummed a soft beat against the tabletop. “And yet your decision to leave caught your entire family by surprise, especially when you departed in such a precipitous fashion.”

“I’d not mentioned it previously because I knew my decision was certain to be upsetting to my parents. As it is, we argued at length before they realized I wouldn’t be swayed in my decision,” Octavia said, her eyes unreadable.

“Something your father shared when he was telling me how stubborn you can be. Although I was already familiar with your tendency to be obstinate.”

“I do not see the difference between persistence and stubbornness.” Chin tilted upward with disdain, she eyed him with irritation.