Page 63 of It's a British Christmas

“Perhaps you can step out and introduce me to your chaperone?”

Eve shook her head. “Oh, I am so sorry. How ill-mannered of me. Your mother will be furious.”

“Do not concern yourself with my mother. She is happy to have you join us and is looking forward to helping you along.”

The poor girl shrank back against the seat. Just then Mother joined the group at the carriage. “Good evening, Miss Allen. Won’t you join us inside? I have a light repast waiting.”

Eve startled and moved to leave the carriage. Adam climbed out first, turned and took her hand. Everything in his world righted itself. The scent of vanilla and lavender embraced him with memories and warmth. Not the sort of heat the thought of taking Eve to bed brought, but a feeling of contentment that had been missing since his return from Worcestershire.

“May I make known to you my chaperone, Mrs. Carter?” Eve gave his mother a soft smile. “Mrs. Carter, may I present the Duke of Manchester and the Duchess of Manchester.”

Mrs. Carter grinned and regarded him with pleasure. “I remember you, young man. You were Lord Manchester back when you were helping our Eve here distribute food and clothing.” She looked at his mother and winked. “His Grace is a fine dancer, as well.”

Mother looked as though she’d swallowed her tongue, and her brows rose so far up her forehead they nearly disappeared into her hairline. Adam recovered faster and said, “Let us all move into the house where there is a warm fire waiting.”

He took Eve’s arm and led her into the house, following behind Mrs. Carter and his mother. They all assembled in the drawing room on the first floor. A table along the wall held small sandwiches, tarts, cookies, cheese and fruit, along with tea and hot chocolate.

They all filled their plates and took comfortable chairs scattered around the room. He and Eve sat side-by-side on a settee. Although he attempted to eat, he found he could not get enough of watching Eve.

“I have a room readied for you, Miss Allen, in our family wing. I would like to discuss your wardrobe with you in the morning, since I know you must be fatigued from the journey. I know I always am.” His mother placed her teacup in the saucer and looked toward Mrs. Carter, who viewed her with wonder. Mother did seem to have that effect on people.

“Mrs. Carter, I am sure you will find your room comfortable. I will have one of the maids bring you up when we are through.”

The older woman nodded and cast a glance at Eve. He needed to have at least some minutes with her alone before she retired for the night. “Mrs. Carter, I would like your permission to escort Miss Allen on a short walk around our gallery. I believe she might enjoy some of the paintings before she retires.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Mrs. Carter seemed overwhelmed that he would ask her permission, but he wanted to be sure that there would be no hint of impropriety in Eve’s visit. He would have a hard time keeping his hands off her, to be sure, but he could at least begin the visit with everything above board.

“I believe I will retire,” Mrs. Carter said after wiping her mouth with her serviette.

“I will ring for a maid to escort you.” Mother glided across the room and pulled the brocade cord. Before the maid answered her summons, Adam stood. “Miss Allen?”

Eve looked up at him and a slight smile graced her face. He felt as though the sun had come out.

Now that she and Adam were leaving the room, Eve felt less anxious, although she had to admit the duchess was much more pleasant than she’d expected. However, her nerves had begun to settle when they all sat down for tea, but the duchess mentioning going over her wardrobe brought the butterflies back to her stomach again.

Eve had no wardrobe to speak of. She wore her best travel dress and pelisse, and carried with her the gown for the ball, the same one she’d worn to the assembly, along with her good church dress. A cotton nightgown, slippers for dancing, and her mother’s pearl necklace. That was it. There was no need for an extensive wardrobe in the small village, especially when one lived on a rector’s stipend.

She’d forgotten how much she enjoyed Adam’s company. Just having him walk beside her brought her joy. It was time for her to admit she had very strong feelings for him. She dare not name it love, but there was no other word that seemed to fit.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, until they reached the gallery. Rows of portraits hung on all four walls. There seemed to be equal amounts of men and women. Several portraits were of families, staid husbands, bland wives, and staunch children stared out at the viewer, leaving her to wonder what was on their minds while the artist worked. No doubt they had been required to sit for long periods of time. Being somewhat familiar with young children through her work at the church, she wondered what inducement had been offered for them to sit still.

They halted in front of another portrait of a woman from several generations past. She looked unhappy, and quite young. Before she could dwell on that, Adam’s deep voice broke through her meanderings. “As fond as I am of my ancestors, that is not why I brought you to the gallery. Now that I have you alone, I feel I must kiss you.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it, staring at her over their joined hands. “May I steal a kiss?”

Eve laughed. “If you ask permission, it is not stealing.”

“Good.” He pulled her into his arms and took her lips in a soft kiss, soon turning into something wonderful and strong. His hands cupped her face as he tilted her head in such a way that the kiss became deeper. The longing she’d felt for weeks burst forth, and she moved even farther into his embrace.

Encouraged by her response, Adam nudged her lips with his tongue, and then entered, sweeping over the roof of her mouth, tangling with her tongue, bringing her delightful feelings in areas where she’d never given much thought. He pulled back and kissed her forehead, eyelids, nose, cheeks, everywhere it seemed where his lips could touch on her face.

Then he moved to her neck and nuzzled the sensitive skin under her ear. “I’ve missed you so much. You have no idea how many nights I laid in bed wishing you were alongside me.” He pulled back and looked into her eyes, studying her, looking for whatever he seemed to need. “I want you in my bed. Tonight, tomorrow, for the rest of my life.”

Eve straightened but did not leave his embrace. “That is scandalous.”

He leaned his forehead against hers. “No. It is not. I want to marry you, Eve. I told you that before I left Worcestershire, and I still intend to speak with your father. Since your parents were unable to attend, I will make the trip out to Worcestershire with you when you leave.”

He was serious. Eve battled with the common-sense voice telling her a duke did not marry a commoner, especially a rector’s daughter. She was no lady, had not been raised to be one. She had no elegance, no training worthy of a duchess. She’d never been educated on how to run a household and wasn’t even sure she knew the correct utensils to use at the dinner table.

Suddenly, an overwhelming wave of panic swept through her. Whatever was she doing here? She was a terrible liar, and there were no fraudulent bones in her body. She could never pretend to be one of these people at an event as momentous as a Christmas Eve ball.