Chapter 5

5

T he words felt wrong the instant they crossed Emily’s lips. My betrothed . Why had she said that? Why had she gotten ahead of herself in such a manner?

Perhaps because throughout the entire course of her misadventures at Rosemead , not once had her thoughts drifted to Lord Coleville . Not until the moment when her lips had almost collided with Nathaniel Pembrook’s , and reality had hit her like a bucket of ice water dumped atop her head.

Foolish . So foolish . Maybe there was something in the air of the lush, beauteous orangery that caused its occupants to lose all sense. Which was precisely why she kept walking, one determined footfall after the other with the heavy basket in tow, until she reached the safety of the great hall. A space that was likewise beautiful but also too stark and chilled to elicit any imprudent actions.

She set the basket of oranges next to the other rows of baskets they’d assembled, taking a moment to discreetly catch her breath. Heaven forbid that Nate notice she’d grown winded.

He hadn’t tried to speak while she marched away from the orangery but had followed with equal briskness, remaining one step behind. Now that they’d stopped, though, she could feel him hovering at her heels. Could sense his gaze on the back of her neck.

“ I didn’t realize.” His voice sounded odd, somehow, almost as if his throat had constricted. “ My sincerest congratulations to you both.”

She drew in one more quick breath, then pivoted toward him, exertion rendering her cheeks maddeningly hot. Except , if she were being honest with herself, exertion no longer felt like the reason for her flush. “ Thank you.”

She could have left her speech there. She should have turned away from him, seen to the oranges, and counted the minutes until it stopped snowing. Yet the echo of what she’d said seemed to linger in the air, making everything feel disjointed and wrong.

“ However …” The word rested on her tongue a moment, and she had to force her eyes not to turn to the floor. “ You can save your felicitations for a later time. I misspoke. Lord Coleville isn’t my betrothed exactly .”

There , she’d replaced the burden of her lie with the truth. Only , why did voicing it make her feel no better? Perhaps because she sounded so ridiculous. And if anything, her skin burned hotter than ever.

Now that she considered it, Nate’s face appeared flushed as well. His body too stiff. However , he gave no reaction but a sardonic lift of his brow. “ I was unaware that a state existed between having a betrothed and not having one.”

Her eyes narrowed, her mouth pinching together at the corners. And she’d almost kissed this man? What on earth had she been thinking?

Her spine grew as straight as an iron rod, and she peered at him in a way that would put him in grave danger if looks had the ability to do harm. “ Lord Coleville and I have an understanding. He’s coming to spend Christmastide at Beaumont Manor . Arriving today, in fact, and the purpose of his visit is no great mystery.”

“ Ah , I see.” Nate’s brow lowered again, and while she awaited another quip to follow, it didn’t come. Instead , he broke away, meandering toward one of the large windows, where the panes of glass had become covered in hundreds of icy flakes. “ Unfortunately , Lady Emily ,” he said to the stormy blackness beyond, “ I don’t anticipate the snow stopping anytime soon. As darkness has fallen, and some digging may be required before we can even reach the coach house to fetch the sleigh, I think it would be best if you took a room here for the night and deferred all plans for travel until morning.”

Something knocked against the wall of her chest, although it wasn’t the blow she would have expected from having her worst fear confirmed. For she’d realized it long before now, hadn’t she? As much as she’d kept her eyes on the windows and alluded to her imminent departure throughout their afternoon of basket-filling, she hadn’t been so delusional as to think the sky would magically clear, and she would glide home as if in a nighttime winter wonderland.

She’d already stifled her emotions before him once today. The act of doing so again proved decidedly easier this time—so much so that by the time he turned, she’d clasped her hands in front of her and was ready to offer a conciliatory nod. “ You’re correct. I thank you for extending your hospitality.” She impressed even herself with the coolness of her tone.

The cords in his neck moved as he swallowed, the edge of his mouth giving an uncertain tic before he promptly pressed it closed. “ Uh , right.” He stepped away from the window, the tap of his boots accelerating as he crossed the great hall. “ Excuse me a moment while I go speak to Mrs . Ruck to ensure there’s a suitable chamber prepared.”

“ Of course. Thank you.” She would throw so much measured politeness at him that he’d drown in it. Although whether her final rejoinder had caught him off balance, she couldn’t say, for he was gone in the blink of an eye, his footsteps fading into the corridor beyond.

She waited—hands still clasped, back still straight—until not even an echo of him remained. And then, with a long, shuddering sigh, she sank to the floor, dropping her forehead into her palms.

The basket of oranges beside her was sweetly fragrant, containing a hint of summer. However , it couldn’t take away the endless whirl of snow outside that made leaving Rosemead impossible.

It’s all temporary , she assured herself, and will be rectified come morning . She closed her eyes, repeating the thought in a steady stream. Tomorrow , her misadventure while holly gathering would exist as nothing but a bad memory, and all would be as it should. She’d be back with her family.

With Lord Coleville .

Because if the snow hadn’t impeded him, Lord Coleville would be waiting for her. Lord Coleville , who’d promised in his most recent letter that they would have a Christmastide to remember.

She tried to use that knowledge to drum up warmth—hope—within her chest.

Instead , all she got was hollowness, and a little voice in the back of her head whispering that, maybe, there was a reason she hadn’t fought harder to return to Beaumont .