Page 28 of The Dare Before Christmas

“Steady there, Miss Milly,” he said, amusement behind the words, his deep voice resonating through her body.

He held her tight against him, his chest hard against her softer form, his arms a cage around her, yet she had no thoughts of trying to escape. Her breath caught, and she froze, too startled and befuddled by this man to know how to react. He was far stronger than she could have anticipated, and his head was angled down towards her. Did he know how close their faces were? His warm breath fluttered over her, eliciting a ripple of shivers over her skin. She need only reach up a fraction of an inch and their lips would touch. Emmeline felt giddy with the realisation that she wanted to close that gap.

“If you’re going to kiss me, you’d best do it before anyone sees,” he whispered.

She gave a squeak of alarm, pushing out of his hold. “Lord Wrexham!” she admonished, though she was uncertain if she was more shocked by his words or her own wayward thoughts. “I am risking my reputation quite far enough in aiding you, without… without….”

Emmeline faltered, knowing she was more irritated with herself than with him. After all, his reputation before he lost his sight had been that of a rake and a libertine. There was no reason to suppose anything had changed.

“Without being importuned by a cripple,” he finished for her, his tone clipped now, touched by something that sounded like shame. “Forgive me. I did not mean to… I am sorry. I forgot myself.”

His demeanour had changed entirely, a tinge of colour cresting his high cheekbones, his usually expressive features fixed, unreadable. She was immediately contrite, and not a little angry that he should feel embarrassed for all the wrong reasons. She suspected he believed she had pushed him away more out of disgust than propriety, and that was so far from the truth. Though she knew it was dreadfully inappropriate to continue this conversation, she could not let him believe that of her, or of himself.

“That is not at all what I meant,” she said crossly.

He tilted his head, as if trying to gauge what she did mean, listening intently.

“Oh, Wrexham!” she said in frustration. “You are the most disconcerting fellow I have ever met, but if you believe I see you as a cripple, well, you need your blasted head examined.”

“Ah, another person believing I am not in my right mind,” he said, and she was uncertain if he was funning with her or being serious.

“Well, you’re not. Not if you think I trust you anymore than I do any other handsome fellow given the opportunity to get me alone.”

He seemed to brighten a little at that, one eyebrow quirking. “You think me handsome?”

“Oh, really,” she said in disgust. “Come along. We must not be seen conversing like this in the middle of the street. Drat you for being the most provoking man, for I shall be in so much trouble for this!” Emmeline walked on, as fast as she dared in the snow, until she reached the inn. They stopped just outside, and she turned to Wrexham.

“We’re here,” she said.

His lips quirked. “I know, I can hear the chatter and smell beer and roast dinner. Everyone has gone inside, out of the weather.”

“They have,” she agreed. “Come here, out of sight,” she added, guiding him to a dark corner where they were less likely to be noticed by any passers-by.

“I cannot be seen in there, especially not with you. So, I will find you a seat, and then I must go at once, but I promise, I will ensure a carriage is sent to collect you as soon as possible. I promise, Wrexham.”

“I believe you,” he said, and something in the way he said it made her cheeks heat again.

She stared up at him, more puzzled and intrigued by this beautiful man than ever. “What happened today? I know something did. Why were you there for so long by yourself?”

He hesitated, and she knew instinctively that he was wondering how far he could trust her.

“I would never betray your confidence, my lord. Never,” she added forcefully, rather startling herself with her vehemence.

He let out a breath, and she was uncertain if it was laughter or frustration. “My God, you’re too sweet, so….” She watched as he took his hat off with one hand and ran the other through his blonde hair. “Miss Knight, may I call upon you?”

In that moment Emmeline was glad he could not see her, could not see the way her mouth opened and closed, for she was certain it was most unbecoming.

“C-Call? Upon me?” she all but squeaked.

His lips twitched. “Yes, pet. Upon you.”

“Well, I… I… Yes,” she said, breathlessly.

He nodded, looking pleased. “Then perhaps I shall trust you with the story, if you are certain you wish to hear it?”

“I am,” she said at once, almost reaching out to touch his hand but stopping herself at the last moment, wanting him to put his trust in her so fiercely she could only wonder at it. “I am sure. Though at present I am staying at Heart’s Folly.”

“Ah, yes. Your sister married the Comte de Villen. Tell me, is he as beautiful as everyone says?”