Page 49 of It's a British Christmas

Despite her aversion to men of his class, she’d oftentimes thought of what it would be like to have Adam pull her into his arms and kiss her. Not the sloppy, quick, attempted-grope ones she’d received over the years, but the ones that made up young girls’ dreams.

“If you don’t mind wasting your afternoon, I would be happy to have your company.” She felt her spirits lift.

He let out a huge sigh. “Eve, never would I think any minute spent in your company wasted.” He studied her, then tightened his lips, as if he’d intended to say something else. Taking her arm, he moved them forward. “Let us venture into the wilds of Worcestershire and distribute food and clothes to the needy.”

She mentally shook her head. His smooth words certainly did not mean what her fluttering heart thought he meant. She reminded herself almost hourly that Adam was not for her. As a member of the aristocracy, this interlude for him was no more than a way to rub elbows with the lower class. Most likely to help him with his work in Parliament. Or to look for an easy miss to take a tumble with, and then escape back to his real life.

Pushing aside those unpleasant thoughts, she determined to accept his company, keep him at arm’s length, and relegate their time together as ‘pleasant encounters to recollect on a cold winter’s night’.

Adam helped her into the wagon, then swung himself up beside her. The wagon had already been loaded, and the horse stood ready to go. She snapped the reins, and they were on their way.

The afternoon was sunny despite the chilly air, immediately cheering her. She glanced sideways at him, to see him grinning at her. “What is it?”

“I know very few women who could handle a horse and wagon like you.”

“Is that good or bad?” She grinned back.

“Oh, have no doubt Miss Eve Allen. Everything about you is good.” He lowered his voice and looked away, but she distinctly heard him say, “Much too good.”

Yes, everything about Eve was good. In fact, wonderful. The last several days had been the most pleasant he’d spent in his adult life. No ducal duties, no constant barrage of visitors demanding his attention, needing his advice and help. No simpering debutantes thrust into his path at every social event he attended. No Mother glowering at him over his desk, demanding to know why he’d rejected the latest bit of fluff she’d presented.

He had intended to end all that nonsense by offering for Lady Ann. Here he was, merely a signature away from a betrothal, and Miss Eve Allen enters his life. A fascinating woman who was very different from the ladies of his class, and a woman who would never bore him.

Life here was basic and simple. Certainly not something he would want for the rest of his life. He had duties and responsibilities, after all, and a certain way of life he rather enjoyed. But being here with Eve by his side, with the sun breaking through the clouds, everything felt right.

“How do you make your deliveries?”

Eve maneuvered the horse around a large mud-filled hole in their path. “I park the wagon near the Common, where several people know to stop by. I generally have little John Macon, who lives a few cottages down from us, notify the villagers when I will be there. Those that can’t come by, the elderly, infirm, and young mothers with busy husbands, I will travel to their residences, when my time at the Common is finished.”

“You do this by yourself?”

“Yes.” She turned to look at him. “Why?”

“I’m just a bit concerned. It was along this road where I was attacked by highwaymen. I don’t like the idea of you traveling about by yourself.”

She grinned and reached under the bench and brought out a pistol and waved it around.

“Hell and damnation, woman. Is that a Sharpe Model 1760?” Bloody hell, she handled it as if it were a flowered parasol.

“It is.”

“And you know how to shoot it?”

She nodded. “I’ve been shooting since I was a young girl.”

He grew somber. “Just remember, I also had a pistol with me when I was set upon by highwaymen. I still think it is foolish for you to be traveling this road by yourself. I am surprised your papa allows it.”

The thought of what could happen to her if she were to be attacked had sweat breaking out all over his body. Women were so vulnerable. He thought of the women of his acquaintance who never left their house without a maid and footman, and that was in the middle of London, in the best neighborhoods.

“These roads have always been safe.” She slid the pistol back under the seat.

“Need I remove my jacket and shirt to remind you of how unsafe this road was about ten days ago?”

That might not have been the right thing to say, since Eve flushed, and he entertained visions of him removing his shirt and breeches, along with Eve’s dress and undergarments. Kissing her all over, caressing her soft skin, hearing her slight moans, then covering her mouth with his as she reached her release.

He shifted on the bench, no longer comfortable as his erection grew. What the devil was wrong with him? Why did he have to keep reminding himself that Eve was just a simple rector’s daughter, slated to marry a dull village man and spend the rest of her life raising a family and doing good deeds?

As planned, he would return to London where he would resume his ducal duties, marry the benign Lady Ann, and live the life for which he’d been raised. Mother would get off his back, he would be seeing to his responsibilities, and life would continue just as he had always expected.