Chapter Four

H eat spread from Evalina's ankle, up her calves and between her thighs, unleashing a flurry of butterflies low in her belly.

She'd been attracted to the duke for a very long time. And she'd suspected he was attracted to her. But even in her wildest dreams, she'd never imagined…

That he would touch her. That he would say her name.

Evalina.

They lived in the same castle, but in different worlds.

For the first time, it was she who was looking down on him.

Shadows painted the elegant planes of his cheeks and jaw, and his lashes looked thicker and longer from this angle. Searching his stormy gray eyes, she almost forgot to breathe.

Because those eyes looked oddly vulnerable. He was not humorless. He was not cold and emotionless. Was she the only one to see him this way?

Leaving the castle today, they'd had an unspoken agreement. One where they'd not been employer and employee, but not quite friends either.

For days, weeks, months, they'd been building to something else.

Her skin tingled beneath his touch. And oh, but she wanted…

More!

Before she could respond one way or another, he dipped his head and the warmth of his hand disappeared.

While working for his mother, she'd come to like this man—very much. She'd watched as he diligently ruled his household, balancing the needs of his demanding mother. Not once had she witnessed him lose his temper. No, he'd been honorable in all things.

But she'd also suspected there was a hint of sadness behind his fa?ade.

She had come to adore him.

"Is it a family name?"

"Pardon?" Her voice cracked as she sought and found another branch to climb.

"Evalina. Is it a family name?" Leaves rustled and the bark cracked as he climbed the tree below her. She lifted her foot onto a higher branch, and knowing he could see the length of her legs, her thighs… if he chose to, she felt hot all over.

"My grandmother's. On my mother's side," she replied.

"It's lovely," he said.

"Thank you," Eva answered automatically.

"When my mother first mentioned that she was going to hire a Miss Sparrow to be her companion, I imagined a much older lady."

"Oh?" Taking another step, her skirts whipped around in the breeze, but she simply continued on upwards. She knew which branch she would stop at, having climbed this tree dozens of times on her own.

"But then I met you." His climbing abilities were better than hers, and she could feel him moving directly below her. "And I was… surprised."

"Most people are surprised when they meet me," she admitted. It was an easier admission without having to see his face.

"Because you are young?"

"Because of my hair and freckles. My brother once told me I have the uncanny ability of being loud without saying a single word." She secured her foot on one last branch, and then, trusting her strength, launched herself onto the one just above it.

This particular limb had been rubbed smooth, so she could edge away from the trunk leaving room for the duke, who managed to climb on with even more grace than she had.

"I rather like your hair and freckles." A lock of his silky hair fell over his face as he made himself comfortable beside her. It lent him a boyish air. Ironically, it also made him seem a little rakish. "Haven't done this in ages."

"You need to get out more often," Eva said. He scoffed but didn't argue as the two of them simply stared out at the view quietly.

She'd always loved finding the tallest tree and climbing as high as she could. "From up here, everything looks small." She raised a hand and pointed to a familiar shape off in the distance. "Even Glenbrook Castle."

"Hmm," the duke answered, and Eva couldn't tell if he was agreeing or merely being polite.

"Sometimes," she ventured recklessly, "We get too caught up in the details of our day-to-day life, and in the grand scheme of the universe, they're rather insignificant, really."

"Are you implying I've lost sight of the forest for the trees?" he asked.

It was precisely what she meant, so she shrugged.

The branch bounced a little, and the duke snaked an arm around her back.

"You're too far out." He pulled her closer. "If I'd realized how high you would climb, I'm not sure I'd have allowed it."

Eva could only smile as she edged toward him. "I come here all the time." Her thigh pressed into his, which was as solid as the tree itself.

And warm.

She squeezed her thighs together. It wasn't the height that made her dizzy. It was him.

"Should I be worried?" His voice dropped, low and rumbling.

Eva turned to see his expression, and as she stared at his aristocratic profile, a shiver tracked down her spine.

Despite his chiseled jaw and firm chin, he didn't look half as austere as he did at the castle. She'd caught glimpses of this side of him before, but not like this.

"You don't have to worry about me." Eva allowed her feet to dangle, feeling breathless to be sitting here with…

Her duke.

Would he have come today if he knew how often she thought about him, if he knew that her insides quaked when he sent her one of those private glances?

She focused on the horizon.

And in the quiet, she felt the duke relax beside her.

"Why haven't you married?" He asked matter-of-fact like. As though his words didn't summon unfortunate memories. Guilty memories.

"Before your mother hired me, I was betrothed…" To a widowed farmer who lived one village over. "He was a pleasant enough fellow, but…" She'd suspected he could be cruel. "I rejected his proposal. He had six children from his first wife—all sons—and not that I don't like children, but they were…" Very much like their father. Eva would have had security, but for a price. She would have been trapped, cooking, cleaning, washing, not to mention tending the massive garden required to feed all those mouths… She winced a little. "My mother was not happy."

"Hmm," he said, and Evalina felt compelled to fill the silence.

"My father is a landed gentleman. He was willing to pay for me to have a season, if I really wanted one." She dropped her gaze to the distant ground. "But it would have been too expensive. And I'm not sure I would have made a good wife."

She didn't like talking about herself. Eva knew she was… different. Her mother would say she was selfish.

"Why not?"

"After taking care of my brothers, I didn't want…" She winced a little. "Working for your mother is a dream, comparatively." She shook her head. "I can't imagine never going anywhere… doing the same thing day after day—like my mother has done."

"Do you get on well with her?"

"I love her—with all my heart—but it's no secret that I'm her greatest disappointment."

"You're clever and smart. Not to mention beautiful. How could you be a disappointment?"

Eva's breath caught at the compliment. Was he only being kind?

"She wanted me to be just like her. And I… couldn't." It was a sore spot. "When I refused to marry Mr. Harrelson… She was not happy. Applying to act as a companion was my father's idea. He understands me better than my mother ever will."

"And are you happy? Acting as a companion?"

"Your mother is a challenge, but yes. And I find unexpected perks…" She smiled. "Particularly today." There was nothing she could do to stop the heat ebbing into her cheeks. Today was immeasurably enjoyable… because of him. In all the time she'd spent in the Ferris household, she had never dreamed of having him to herself.

Even if it was only for a few hours.

He withdrew his hand from her waist and Eva's heart sank. But then…

Very deliberately he tucked his arm along hers and, threading their fingers together, clasped her hand.

Sensations both warm and sharp shot up her arm. It was a simple gesture, something friends did on occasion. So why did it feel like more than that?

His hand wasn't limp and indifferent—no, he held hers firmly. And when he ran his thumb along her skin, Eva parted her lips, unable to speak, barely able to breathe.

When he met her gaze, his grey eyes darkened, and she knew…

He felt it too.

This feeling of connection—this feeling that made no sense at all—and yet made perfect sense.

He'd said she was beautiful.

Normally she would have searched for something clever to break this improper silence, and yet she didn't want to break it. She wanted it to go on forever.

She wanted him to kiss her.

"You are beautiful, you know." His voice was low and gruff, stoking the fires inside her.

How long had she ached for this?

If he turned her bones to jelly by simply holding her hand, how would… other things feel? She imagined his mouth on her lips, her neck…

"I'm not," she said.

"But you are." The same thrill of excitement lit his eyes.

Unfortunately, the branch they were sitting on moaned and cracked. Eva froze, but of course, the duke would never allow her to fall.

"I've got you." He managed to grip her and the solid trunk at the same time.

Locking her arms around his neck, she only dangled for a moment before finding a foothold on one of the lower, sturdier branches.

Eva clung to him, speechless, as she watched their old perch tear away from the tree, taking out two other branches before it landed on the ground.

"Oh dear," was all she could say. Because that very well could have been her—or both of them.

In the silence that followed, she lifted her lashes and stared into his eyes again. They were close enough that she could see every detail, every fleck of color. "Perhaps we ought to have our picnic on the ground."

And oh! How she wished she could read his mind. With her body pressed against his, clinging to him for life—quite literally—she could feel the thrill of some unnameable emotion thrumming from her head to her toes. And ironically, she was sure it had more to do with their sudden proximity than with the near miss.

Eva wondered if he felt it too, but stopped wondering when his gaze burned into hers.

Madness!

Anything between the two of them would be wildly inappropriate! They should not, could not. And if his mother learned of this little outing…

Eva refused to imagine how that scenario might play out.

Dear God, she should pull away, create some distance between them.

He tightened his grip, holding her even closer, and it was better than she'd imagined. The heady scent of leather and vetiver teased her nostrils and her head swam, inviting her to rest her face against his chest, which was broad and sturdy and dependable.

"Are you hurt?" he asked. Was the tremor she felt his or hers?

"No. I'm…" Her thoughts in turmoil, she struggled to find words. "No."

Neither moved to climb down and her heart skipped a beat when he brushed his mouth along her cheek. "Promise me you won't climb trees alone anymore. I can't imagine what I'd do if…"

"If?" she asked.

"I can't imagine what I'd do if I lost you."