Chapter 5

 

Evelyn dashed across the ballroom floor and out through the French doors to the darkened terrace outside. After running to the edge of the terrace, she stood gripping the freezing railing, her breath coming in white puffs.

A myriad of emotions buffeted her. How could he? Colin, her childhood friend, how could he? She trusted him, and yet he’d flirted with her like some kind of....

She couldn’t even put a name to what he’d done. Tears burned her eyes and left hot trails down her cheeks that quickly cooled to streaks of ice. She stared out over the frozen garden, illuminated by the bright, full moon. The silver light fell on the snow-covered trees and shrubbery where all lay as if dead. She put her hand over her face and wept. She’d had such high hopes for this evening, such dreams of finally kissing the perfect man under the mistletoe and showing him that they belonged together. Instead, Colin had played a cruel game on her.

Soft footsteps tapped on the flagstone behind her, and with a rustle of fabric, a frockcoat was laid over her shoulders.

“Come inside, Evie,” Colin’s voice rumbled. “It’s cold out here.”

She let out sob. “I can’t.”

He stood beside her so close that the heat of his body soaked into hers. Leaning on the railing, he looked at her. “Why can’t you?” he asked softly.

She turned her head away so he was out of her peripheral vision. “Because you.....I.....” she ended on a new sob.

“Evie, I didn’t lie to you. I meant every word I said.”

She looked at him then. As he leaned on his elbow on the railing with his face only inches from hers, his gaze searched her face.

She sniffled. “But you....”

“You thought I was someone else.”

She nodded and shuddered in a breath.

“Michael Cavenleigh.”

She nodded again.

“And you don’t know me well enough to know it was I?”

“Well, I admit I wasn’t completely certain that I was dancing with Michael Cavenleigh, but it never occurred to me that it was you.”

“Never? Not once?” With the pads of his thumb, he gently wiped away her tears.

She opened her mouth to deny, but then thought back. Michael and Colin were of similar height and build, so that wouldn’t have been any clue. He was wearing the gold half-mask—exactly what she’d expected Michael to wear. With so much of their heads covered, she couldn’t have known from their hair or faces. And the first time they’d danced, he’d been so solemn, like Michael, until they’d begun to flirt. Yet, there were times when he’d seemed comfortable and familiar. And his laugh. She wanted to smack her own forehead. That low rumbling chuckle was pure Colin. She’d only wanted to believe it belonged to Michael.

Sniffing, she drew a breath. “I suppose I’d assumed you were Michael, so I’d overlooked all the clues.”

He nodded, his normally jovial expression solemn. “I’m sorry you’re disappointed. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Did you know?”

He nodded and let out a long exhale, his breath making great clouds in the night air. “I suspected you thought I was him, but I’d hoped when I kissed you that you’d realize how much I care for you and that you’d finally see me, not as your childhood friend, but as man...a man who loves you.”

She blinked at him, hardly comprehending his words. “Love me?”

His smile grew tender and he wiped away another tear on her cheek. “I always have. From the time you whacked me over the head with a stick when I was seven, I knew there was no other girl for me.”

“So tonight...”

“Tonight, I’d hoped if I could flirt with you, then kiss you, without you knowing who I was, that you’d finally see me as a man and not just your little playmate from years ago.”

She shivered and pulled his coat more tightly around her shoulders.

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Evie. I never wanted that. But I’m not sorry I kissed you. It was even better than I’d imagined.”

She looked up at him, and he grinned, his teeth flashing in the moonlight. His teeth. No one had as beautiful teeth as the men in Colin’s family; she’d even identified his father by that smile. She had no idea what Michael’s smile was like, nor the condition of his teeth. He’d been away at school most of her childhood and she barely knew him. Lately, he never smiled due to his terrible heartbreak with his betrothed. But Colin’s smile lit up an entire house, and he frequently did it.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Colin leaned in, a wicked grin curving his moth and mischief gleaming in his eyes. “But you seemed to enjoy the kiss.”

She let out a huff but recalled his hand on her face, touching her so tenderly, his lips on hers, kissing her with a gentle passion she’d never dreamed, and his arms around her, pulling her close to his body. She’d felt safe and exhilarated. She’d felt like she’d come home.

One of his brows lifted. “I see by your blush that I’m right.”

“You can’t see me blushing—it’s too dark.”

“Trust me, I know when you’re blushing. I can feel the heat of it from here.”

She let out a small cry of outrage, then dissolved into laughter. This was Colin. Her playmate, the one who’d taught her to swim, the one who’d comforted her when she’d been frightened of the dogs, the one who’d pulled her out of the ice at his own peril, the one who’d kissed her like a man in love.

The man she loved in return.

She’d just been too blind to realize it. He’d always been there, her friend, her confidant, her comforter.

Colin wrapped his arms around her. “I do love you, Evie. I always have and I always will.”

“I love you, Colin. I just never realized it.”

He kissed her again, this time without a mask, without pretense, without guile. He was simply Colin. Her friend. Her love. She immersed herself into his kiss and the whole world faded away until there was nothing but Colin, his warm, masculine, woodsy scent; his soft, insistent lips; his gentle, strong hands.

A voice clearing nearby broke through the haze of pleasure.

He finally released her with a groan, and kissed her lips, her eyes, her cheeks. “Evie, will you marry me?”

“Yes, of course I will.”

“Good, because your father is glowering at us. I’d best ask his permission to marry you before he has me drawn and quartered.”

She turned her head to see her father standing in the doorway, his arms folded, his toe tapping. She giggled. Her father’s stern expression softened momentarily before he corrected it.

Colin put his arm around her and they faced her father together. “Sir, is there a place where we may speak in private? I’d very much like to ask permission to marry your daughter.”

“It’s about time,” her father grumbled. “I thought you two would never figure that out.”

They laughed and Colin led her back toward the ballroom. She realized then he had no frockcoat, he wore only his shirt and waistcoat.

She removed it from her shoulders and handed it back. “Here, you must be cold.”

“No, I assure you, I am quite warm.” He grinned, that infectious, irresistible grin. “Although, I do have one request of you.”

“Anything.”

“I really do need a new muffler.”

“I’ll knit you one in every color.” She grinned snuggled into him. “But only if your mother gives me the recipe for her wassail.”

“I’ll see to it.”

Arm in arm, they went back inside to the ball, dinner, and their new life together.