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He glanced up when he first noticed her, stared, then his features split into a grin and he stood on ceremony.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Cole,” she said as she approached.

“Good afternoon,” he returned. He tipped his head to the side, causing a boyish look to come over him. “What in heaven’s name are you doing out here?”

“I have come to discover where a delinquent pair of skates has got to.”

She raised her brows condemningly, motioning to the skates dangling from his hands against his thighs.

“Ah, my apologies. I was completely lost in thought when they were collecting them. I thought to bring them in myself when I was finished out here, but I assume you need them now?”

Clara shook her head, drawing a few steps closer. “They were merely concerned we had misplaced a pair. I’ll return them myself with no harm done.”

He nodded, his eyes searching hers in silence, and a wave of shyness swept over her.

Clara was never shy. But after the information she’d learned from Margaret, she now watched Mr. Cole in a different light.

Miss Bowles had been right before—her lady’s maid was not forthcoming. But Clara had still managed to pull from her more information on the guise of doing so for Mr. Cole’s cousin. She’d learned how the ladies of the house spoke of Mr. Cole differently now. How he no longer pursued forfeits and kisses and how he always seemed listless and distracted.

“Her ladyship is convinced he’s set his eyes on someone at the party, but no one has been able to catch him with anyone,” Margaret had shared. “Miss Bowles is livid with the gentleman—even more so now that he didn’t even glance in her direction when she wore that red dress of hers last night.”

Clara had been thrilled with this news. Thrilled and simultaneously concerned. While she knew great pleasure at having obtained the gentleman’s attention that equaled her own, she also wondered what the future held for them both.

He would not wish to attach himself to a scandalous gentleman’s daughter—and she did not wish to attach herself to anyone.

But as she stared at him now, his eyes ever upon her, his joy apparent at seeing her, she wondered...could marriage be so bad if both partners trusted each other?

“Of what are you thinking, Clara?” he asked gently.

As if she could tell him. “Merely why you lingered so long out here, when all the others have gone.”

His eyes shone. “I do not know if I wish to divulge exactly what I was thinking. Or rather, of whom I was thinking.”

Perhaps she could tell him then. “If you tell me, I’ll tell you who I was thinking of just before I saw you.”

“Lady Dalmeer?” She laughed, and his expression softened. “I’ve missed you, Clara.”

“I’ve missed you, as well.”

The intimacy of their conversation struck her—the fact that they were utterly alone upon the vast grounds of Bellthorne. She was about to excuse herself. Being alone with him, as per usual, was a risk.

And yet, they’d have ample time to spot anyone before being spotted themselves, the servants were occupied, and the guests were no doubt far too cold to return out of doors any time soon.

Anyway, she’d been in this situation with him countless times before. This was the least risky of them all.

“Have you had a moment to enjoy the snow?” Mr. Cole asked next.

“Only just now, walking through it.”

“Is that all?”

“I’ve witnessed it from the windows every now and again.”

He shook his head. “But that will not do.” He paused, a hint of mischief to his expression. “Have you ever skated before, Clara?”

“Yes. Before.”

“Excellent. Then you shall do well enough now.”