Page 30 of Adeline

Adeline pulled the blanket more securely around her shoulders as her teeth threatened to chatter again. If only she could move closer to the hearth, gain a bit of the warmth offered by the roaring fire; however, she sensed Lord Ailesbury was in far greater need of the heat than she.

A loud crack of thunder rattled the windowpanes, and Ailesbury’s eyes snapped open, their olive-green hue turning as vibrant as the lightning streak outside as they flashed in her direction.

“Lord Ailesbury—” Her fingers tightened their hold until her knuckles ached.

His glare narrowed on her as his shoulders straightened once more and he shifted to face her. His chin lifted at the same time his hands landed on his hips, and he frowned. For a brief second, Adeline could have sworn another battle raged in his eyes, as if the earl debated his next move until, ultimately, he held firmly to his anger.

He did not blink, did not shift his glare away from her or relax his posture as they stared at one another.

And Adeline held her breath, fearing if she made so much as the smallest movement, the spell freezing them both to their spots would evaporate, and Lord Ailesbury would demand she leave his library.

With agonizing slowness, his cold stare left hers and traveled down her body, the riding habit clinging to Adeline’s every curve. Leisurely, he took in the sight of her, his chilly glare melting as he once again stared her straight in the eyes.

He dared her to move.

He taunted her to speak.

He challenged her to so much as take the deep breath her aching lungs demanded.

The silence between them was louder than any tempest.

Lord Ailesbury held her stare, wordlessly demanding she turn and depart the room or face the consequences of her lack of action.

Yet, Adeline would not back down. She would not cower in fear and run for safety. She knew enough about the man before her to know he would never cause her injury or harm. There was nothing for Adeline to fear in the earl’s presence.

Nothing about the man scared her, least of all his physical scars.

They did not influence her opinion of him in any way.

What did change everything was what she’d learned about his past.

Adeline hadn’t any idea why she purposefully disobeyed his command and followed him into the library, silently closing them both in together…alone.

But at that precise moment, with the fire crackling in the hearth behind him and the storm subsiding outside, Adeline had no doubts why she’d come to this room—to this man.

They had lived a thousand lifetimes together in the last day.

She’d born witness to his commitment to his servants, his people, and his land.

He’d rescued her from the storm along that deserted road. He’d rushed to her aid when the windowpane shattered in the dining hall. He’d watched with a measure of pride as she’d shown him her skill with a bow. And she’d stood by with her own sense of pride as he saved Grovedale from certain death. She’d also had to stand by and watch the villagers treat him as if he were an outsider, a pariah, a man who did not belong on his own land.

And for what?

She’d wanted to demand answers of them all. She’d longed to rail against the injustice of it all. If the earl hadn’t spotted her and quickly brought her back to the Abbey, Adeline might have confronted the lot of them—and given them the sharp reprimand and scolding they so richly deserved.

The blanket slipped from her shoulders, cascading down her body to pool at her feet, and Adeline stepped toward him.

One step.

Two steps.

Three.

Short, unhurried paces made difficult by the immense weight of the riding habit she wore.

How had she not noticed the nearly crippling heaviness of the garment before now?

Four steps.