Page 54 of It's a British Christmas

“Oh, my dear, are you well?” Lady Du Clair hurried over to Eve as they walked through the door.

“Yes, my lady, I am fine. The heat of the room overtook me. But I am much better now.”

Lady Du Clair eyed her speculatively. “It appeared his lordship had to assist you out.” She sniffed, and glared at Adam.

“Miss Allen was feeling faint and I did not want her to trip going outside.”

“Indeed.”

Turning on all the charm that had worked since the time he was in short pants, he flashed the woman a broad smile. “Would you care to join me in this dance, my lady? It will give Miss Allen time to fully recover.”

She tittered and her face flushed. They are never too old. He took her hand and led her into the line forming for the country reel. Eve spent the time chatting with the other girls, and by the time the dance was over, any pending scandal had been allayed.

The ride back to Reverend Allen’s house was quiet. It appeared most of the guests at the assembly lived in the village proper, so he and Eve were all alone on the road back. The moon was bright, and Adam felt the nearness of Eve as a vital thing.

Her hair glowed in the moonlight, and her skin shone alabaster. She kept taking glances at him, and once he placed his hand on her knee, she jumped. Her warm skin under his hand, the scent of lavender and vanilla, and her profile outlined against the darkness of the trees behind her seemed to turn the entire setting into an ethereal fairy tale.

A fairy tale he did not want to end. Soon, he would have to confess to her that he was not merely a lord, but a duke. He also had to return to London, and dispatch a message to Lord Fenster that he needed to meet with him. The sooner he told the man of his change of heart—he winced at that wording—the better. Maybe another day or so, and then he must leave.

That she had become important to him left him without a doubt as to their future. What troubled him now was how to overcome not only the situation with Lady Ann but the distance between him and Eve. Certainly not the miles, but their stations in life.

They turned the bend in the road, the small cottage standing in the moonlight, with a carriage bearing a very familiar crest on the door parked in front. As they drew closer, his mother’s voice shattered the peace that had surrounded him and Eve.

“There you are, Manchester, honestly, whatever are you doing in this dreadful place?”

Adam groaned and considered how unacceptable it was to wish one’s mother to perdition. His voice was soft. “Eve.”

She stared at him, her eyes wide. “Who is that?”

He hesitated for a moment, knowing everything they’d had together over the past two weeks would vanish like a magician’s trick with his next words. “That is my mother, the Duchess of Manchester.” He reached for her hand.

She pulled it away and covered her chest with her palms. “The Duchess of Manchester? Then you are . . .”

He sighed. “The Duke of Manchester, at your service.”

CHAPTER 6

Eve sat on the old, rickety wooden bench, stupidly, unable to do anything but stare at him. “You are a duke?” Good heavens, he was a member of the highest-ranking nobility in the Kingdom. If she’d thought before there was no future for them, now, it was apparent that her family could be in trouble for housing him. She blanched. They could even be accused of kidnapping.

And what if mother’s ministrations hadn’t worked, and he’d died? They might have ended up in prison in leg irons! She backed up on the seat, almost as if he was a leper. Adam reached out and grabbed her. “Eve, you’re going to fall off the edge of the wagon seat.”

“Manchester, come down from there. Whatever is that thing you are riding on?” The duchess glided from the carriage to the wagon. “Is there not a decent inn anywhere near here? I am weary from my travels.”

“Mother, what are you doing here?”

“Did you think once I received word of your injury in this unknown place, I would simply ignore it? And, I would like to know why I had to hear about this from your man of business.”

Before Adam could say another word, Eve jumped from the wagon seat, and raced to the front door of the house. Mama and Papa stood in the doorway, in their nightclothes, looking as confused as she felt. She edged past them, and hurried up the stairs to her bedroom.

“Eve!” Adam’s shout reached her ears, but she placed her palms over them and shook her head.

She had to get away. Her fairytale had turned into a nightmare. A duke! Why had he lied to them? He must think them all fools. Was he laughing right now with his mother at their backward ways? Eve was mortified. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, feeling as though she would never be warm again.

A pounding on her bedroom door had her looking for an escape. “Eve, open the door. Please.”

She shook her head, as though he could see through the wood. “No, Your Grace. Leave me alone.”

“Eve, I will not leave until you talk to me. I’ll sit here in front of your door all night.”