Page 59 of It's a British Christmas

“Please?”

“Eve.” Her mother’s voice behind her seemed to spur her to accept his invitation. She nodded but ignored his hand and walked out the front door, with him following. They strolled for a short while, away from the carriage, and toward a wooded area. Neither spoke, and Adam spent the time trying to compose the correct words to start a difficult conversation.

“Before I say anything more, I want first and foremost to apologize for my deception.”

Eve snorted, and continued to study the ground as they walked, her arms wrapped protectively around her middle.

Not allowing himself to be hampered by her demeanor, he continued. "When you found me wounded on the road, my rank and title were not important. I was merely a man in dire need of assistance.”

No response, but she did nod her head.

“Once I began to recover, I did not want to intimidate you or your parents, so I remained merely Lord Manchester.” He reached out and took her hand. “Eve, look at me. Please?”

“And bleeding in the middle of the road made you forget you were betrothed? Had the highwaymen hit you on the head as well?”

Adam ran his fingers through his hair. “About that.”

She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “Yes, about that.”

Trying to find the correct words, he stared off into the distance before he looked at her. “I have a duty and responsibility to my title. To marry and produce heirs. My mother has been presenting potential brides to me for years. I finally met a woman who I thought I could at least tolerate, so I visited with her father and drew up marriage contracts.”

Her body stiffened, so he hurried on. “However, she was not at home at the time, and is not expected home until after Christmas. I had not formally proposed to her, nor even laid eyes on her in weeks. The negotiations had been completed, but the papers not signed.”

Adam studied her to see her response. There was none. “After years of rejecting one debutante after another, I thought the right one for me would never appear. I acted too quickly.”

They stopped and she stiffened her shoulders and regarded him. What he saw there touched him in a place he hadn’t known existed until this moment. A place well-hidden all his life that had been waiting for Eve.

“I love you.”

There, it was out. He felt a weight lift from his shoulders. She might laugh, cry, or slap him, but he finally admitted to himself, as well as her, what his feelings were.

“Please don’t toy with me, Your Grace.” Her flushed face hardened into annoyance.

“Do you have so little faith in me that you think I would say that if I didn’t mean it? I might have held back on telling you my full identity, and about the pending betrothal, but believe me, I love you, and I want to marry you.”

Eve took in a deep breath, her eyes wide. “A duke does not marry a rector’s daughter!”

“A duke marries whomever he chooses to marry. And you are my choice.” He pulled her into his arms, holding her close, watching her beautiful face, flushed with agitation. “I want you to marry me. I know this is not a proper proposal, and I aim to do things properly and speak with your father. However, I will not leave here until you fully understand what my intentions are toward you.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Please don’t say those things. I know once you’ve returned to your real life you will understand why what you are suggesting can never be. You will realize I can never successfully fill the role of duchess, and the young lady you are now betrothed to will fit that position perfectly.”

“I am not betrothed. I have already visited with Lord Fenster and told him of my decision to not continue the betrothal.”

“I’m sure that didn’t go well.”

Choosing to ignore that remark, he said, “Eve, listen to me. Mother will be sending you an official invitation to our Christmas Eve ball. She holds it every year at our country estate. Most members of the ton are in the country this time of the year, so the ball is a wonderful way for those scattered about to gather for the holiday. I want you, and your parents, to travel to Manchester Park and spend Christmas with us. Please tell me you will accept.”

Eve drew back, clearly shocked. “We cannot accept an invitation to your Christmas Eve ball. We no more belong there than you did here.”

“Ah, but I did belong here quite well, did I not?”

She poked her finger in his chest. “You pretended to belong here because it is quite easy to delve lower in society, but impossible to raise up oneself.” She looked off, and for a moment he thought he’d lost the tiny bit he’d gained thus far.

“Eve, you are an intelligent and friendly woman. You will fit in just fine.”

“Indeed? And which of my fabulous gowns shall I wear to a ball? Perhaps the one I wore to the village to distribute food to the poor? And, dear me, I will have to make sure my lady’s maid knows the latest hairstyles to compete with all the other women at this ball.” She began to pull herself away. “No, Your Grace, I cannot subject myself to that sort of scrutiny and ridicule.”

He tightened his hold. “You compete with no one. Miss Eve Allen as herself is wonderful, charming, beautiful, and smart. That is what I see, and that is what everyone else will see.” Even though he knew he lied, and she would not be accepted so easily, he had to convince her to accept Mother’s invitation.