Busy with Theadosia’s seemingly never-ending Christmastide activities, the next twelve days passed quickly. Each morning, weather permitting, Everleigh walked with Sarah and Mrs. Schmidt, and more often than not, Griffin joined them.

He hadn’t today, and he also hadn’t been at breakfast.

Others had also begun taking a morning constitutional. No surprise, given the rich foods and lack of occasion to exercise. During summer house parties, guests might play croquet or shuttlecock, practice archery, or go riding or boating, but there weren’t nearly as many opportunities to be outdoors and stretch one’s legs in the wintertime.

Today, Ophelia, Gabriella, and Jessica, arms entwined, walked ahead of Everleigh.

Ice skating was planned for next week, but since she’d never learned how to skate, she’d already decided to stay behind and work on her Christmas gift for Sarah: a new rag doll. A replica of Maya, wearing a crimson and gold striped dress—an exact match to the dress Everleigh was sewing for Sarah.

She’d picked up the material and supplies she needed in Colchester during a shopping excursion Theadosia had planned four days ago so that those who hadn’t brought gifts and wanted to exchange them Christmas Day might purchase a few trinkets.

There’d been much whispering and covert tucking of small packages into coats or reticles and brown paper packages tied with strings carried to the carriages by patient footmen, including Hampton. He still looked at her with more interest than he ought to, but he’d not been impertinent again.

Ridgebrook smelled wonderfully of pine and other greeneries. Thea had tossed aside the custom of waiting until Christmas Eve to decorate the house. Garlands, wreaths, and ribbons bedecked the doorways, fireplaces, and mantels. She created a truly festive atmosphere, and, each passing day, Everleigh relaxed a bit more.

Nearly every room bore signs of the holiday, and tonight, again flouting custom, they were to decorate the grand Christmas tree. Smaller trees had already been erected in most of the common rooms, complete with miniature scenes around their bases. For days, in the afternoons and evenings, as one guest or another entertained them with music or songs or even read aloud, many of the others strung popcorn, cranberries, cherries, and currants, or created paper chains for the tree.

Cook had been busy making sweetmeats to stuff in crocheted baskets, and she’d made dozens of pretty cakes and shaped biscuits to hang by ribbons from the tree.

Theadosia’s propensity to toss aside custom to entertain her guests and provide them with a Christmastide they would long remember was endearing. She’d forgone no expense or effort to assure them an unforgettable holiday, especially Everleigh.

Everleigh hadn’t told Griffin she planned on giving Sarah a gift for Christmas, fearing he’d feel obliged to reciprocate. It wouldn’t be proper to accept anything from him, so by being secretive, she saved them both potential awkwardness.

As it was, she was a touch discomfited he hadn’t attempted to kiss her again.

She wasn’t certain whether she was relieved or vexed. For the first time in her life, she’d enjoyed a man’s touch, his warm lips upon hers, and, after that first kiss, she’d even briefly entertained the notion of taking a lover.

If he was the man sharing her bed, that was.

Young and healthy, she was curious to know what all the whispering and giggling was about, and even dear Theadosia had tried to explain that physical intimacy could be wonderful. After Frederick’s assault and Arnold’s clumsy molestations, until Everleigh had met Griffin—well, until he’d kissed her—she’d thought she could be perfectly content being celibate.

Then again, she’d never desired a man until she met him.

The more time she spent with Griffin, the stronger her yearnings grew, and she feared she’d make a cake of herself one of these days. The wisest course of action would be to leave, but she didn’t want to go home now.

Plain and simple, she liked being with him. She enjoyed being with Sarah too.

In fact, Everleigh had even begun to appreciate the comradery of the dukes, though the ten scoundrels teased and harassed one another incessantly.

The storm that had threatened the other day had passed them by, but as she eyed the low-hanging, petulant clouds today, she felt certain their luck was about to change. There’d be snow by nightfall, or she wasn’t blonde and that wasn’t a doe peering hesitantly from yonder tree-line.

When she could cuddle beneath a warm throw before the fire and read a novel whilst savoring a strong cup of tea, she enjoyed the snow. There’d been so much commotion at Ridgewood every day, finding a quiet niche to read in hadn’t been possible.

The only respite she found from the constant tumult was in her bedchamber. A padded window seat ran the full length of the turreted window and also provided an exceptional view of the countryside. Even so, she hadn’t spent much time there, except to sew Sarah’s presents.

Everleigh hadn’t thought she was terribly lonely before, especially with Rayne’s company, but there was something to be said for the gaiety of gatherings with friends.

She quirked her mouth at her musings.

Was this the same woman who dreaded assemblies of any sort just a few days ago?

It was the company.

Thea had been true to her word. Except for Caroline that first day, the men and women were nothing like the sots and degenerates Arnold had regularly entertained.

Sarah, her eyes bright and face ruddy from the cold, skipped along the gravel path. Maya, appearing more bedraggled than ever, trailed along the ground as Sarah hopped on one foot, then the other.

“Evlee?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Read to me before I sleeps t’night?”

Everleigh slid Mrs. Schmidt a glance.

Worry puckered the sweet woman’s face. She also fretted that Sarah was growing too attached.

“I shall have to check with your Papa, but I think I might be able to. It also depends on what the Duchess of Sutcliffe has planned for this evening. Why don’t you go inside now and have your hot chocolate?”

That had become a tradition as well.

Sarah bobbed a little curtsy and clasped Nurse’s hand. “You come too?”

Everleigh shook her head and gathered her cloak a bit closer. “Not today. I have some things I need to attend to.”

After the mortifying incident with the Christmas pudding, Everleigh had almost ordered the carriage brought ’round to take her home straightaway. She wouldn’t have believed a room could grow so completely silent so speedily, but there wasn’t a doubt everyone had heard the child’s last wish.

Theadosia had hugged Sarah while claiming the spoon and redirected everyone’s attention. “Let’s all adjourn to the drawing room for a cup of mulled wine, shall we? I have another surprise for you.”

That was when she announced the treasure hunt for tomorrow, and, also, since they’d missed exchanging gifts on December 6th, St. Nicholas’s Day, those that wanted to do so, would now exchange gifts on Christmas Day.

“Mrs. Chatterton.” Griffin waved at her from the pathway leading to the stables. “Might I have a word?”

He’d no sooner asked than snowflakes began drifting down.

“Snow!” Sarah squealed and stuck her tongue out, trying to catch the fat, fluffy flakes.

“Goodness, child,” Mrs. Schmidt fussed. “Let’s get you inside before you catch your death.”

It wouldn’t have hurt to allow Sarah a few moments in the snow, but Everleigh refused to interfere. Sarah was Mrs. Schmidt’s charge, and, as Griffin had said, she wasn’t a biddable child. Nurse had a difficult enough time reining the child in without others throwing a wrench into her efforts.

The truth was, the cold probably aggravated Mrs. Schmidt’s arthritic bones.

Should Everleigh suggest to Griffin a younger, more energetic woman, a governess perhaps, might be in order? It wasn’t her place, of course, but Mrs. Schmidt wasn’t quite up to snuff, and though she obviously held Sarah in great affection, she was also a bit lax in areas.

Perhaps later, when the house party neared its end, Everleigh might voice her thoughts. For now, she’d keep her own council.

She made her way to Griffin, wearing a shocking red, green, and yellow knitted scarf about his neck. It was quite the ugliest thing she’d ever seen. She tried not to stare, but her gaze kept wandering back to the atrocity.

He chuckled, that wonderful resonance deep in his chest she’d grown to enjoy, much to her befuddlement, and pulled the ends tighter. “Widow Beezely insisted I accept it as a thank you for purchasing a spaniel puppy from her.”

Everleigh clapped her hands and practically bounced on her toes. “For Sarah?”

“Yes. I have her in the stables, and the good lads there have agreed to watch the imp until Christmas for me.”

“Oh, oh, a she?” Would Sarah be terribly disappointed?

“Yes. The males were spoken for, and when I saw this little darling . . .” He grasped her elbow to help her over an uneven spot on the pathway. “Well, you’ll see why I had to have her for Sarah.”

Inside the stables, she paused for a moment. Smells of hay, horse liniment, manure, and grains filled the warm building. Horses knickered softly every now and again, and a tortious-shell cat padded down the pathway toward them between the stalls. It gave a plaintive meow and another cat answered from the loft above them.

“Claire is down there.”

He pointed to a stall at the far end.

“Claire rather than Clarence? Very clever, I must say.”

For a man having a child’s care thrust upon him, he’d taken to the task of fatherhood with an aptitude many men lacked. He even permitted Sarah to call him Papa, and she couldn’t think of another man she knew who would’ve permitted that.

He grinned, a trifle self-consciously, and lifted a shoulder. “It’s the best I could come up with.”

“I like it, and I think Sarah will too.”

He slid the bolt and pushed the door open. In the corner, sitting on a blanket, was a tiny forlorn, black and tan King Charles Spaniel pup with curly ears. She stood and wagged her tail before toddling over to them.

“Oh, stars above, she’s precious.” Everleigh sank to her knees, and the puppy clambered into her lap. “I always wanted a puppy as a little girl, but Mama said we couldn’t afford one.”

Maybe she should get a dog. She’d enjoy the company, especially when Rayne married.

Griffin knelt on one knee beside her, and ran his hand down Claire’s back. “With those ears, she reminded me of Sarah.”

Everleigh giggled as Claire nibbled her nose and licked her cheeks.

“She’s absolutely perfect. Well done, you. Sarah will be ecstatic.” She kissed the pup’s head. “Don’t forget the green ribbon.”

Rubbing her face into the puppy’s soft fur, she gave him a sideways look.

He touched her cheek then leaned over and skimmed his mouth across hers.

Heaven.

Instinct prompted her to open her lips, and he slid his tongue into her mouth. Not invasive or violating, but in tenderness and gentle exploration.

Nothing else mattered: not the puppy in her arms, the fresh straw she knelt upon, the swirling snow outside, or that she was afraid of men and had vowed never to be vulnerable again.

She simply savored the experience and Griffin. His taste. His essence of soap and starch and something faintly spicy. His hard-muscled thighs pressing into hers, and his lips at once firm but soft, teaching her how to kiss.

After several blissful moments, Claire must’ve decided she didn’t like being ignored, for she nipped his chin.

“Ouch.” He lifted his mouth from Everleigh’s. “She’s punctured me, I do believe.”

Everleigh tisked as she held the little darling to her neck. “I think you’ll live.”

“Everleigh.”

Griffin cupped the back of her neck, his gaze so penetrating, her heart slowed.

“What is it?”

“Marry me. I have no doubt you’d make Sarah a wonderful mother, and I’ve never encountered a woman as extraordinary as you.”

Marry him?

Was he queer in the attic?

Barely over a week ago, she’d sworn never to wed again. She had far too much to lose by doing so, not the least of which was her independence. He would assume all control of her wealth. All control of every aspect of her life, even her body.

She opened her mouth to tell him just that, but he held up his hand.

“Please hear me out. Please.”

Reluctant, battling renewed apprehension, she gave a shallow nod.

“Thank you.” He pressed his mouth to her knuckles.

“I know we’ve only known each other for a short time, but there’s a connection between us. You sense it too, I know you do. I realize you aren’t ready yet. But I want you to know that I feel something for you. I don’t understand exactly what it is, but I also don’t want to dismiss it as nothing. It is something powerful and rare. Don’t answer now. Just think about it. Can you do that much?”

Gaze lowered, she ran her fingers through Claire’s fur.

What could it hurt?

Everleigh wasn’t making a commitment or promising to accept his addresses. She wasn’t even agreeing to let him court her. The silence grew lengthy. At last she raised her head.

“I shall, under one condition, and you have to promise to accept my decision afterward.”

He ran a finger along her jawbone. “All right. What is your condition?”

“You will come to my room tonight and make love to me. I honestly don’t know if I shall be able to go through with the act, but I want to know if it’s even possible for me to enjoy sexual congress.”

She rolled a shoulder as she brushed a fingertip across an eyebrow, both actions to lesson the tension that had her feeling she’d snap like a dry twig if she as much as sneezed.

“If I cannot, then we both know it would be foolish to pursue any sort of a relationship. You wouldn’t want a wife who couldn’t bear your touch. If I don’t find the act as horrific as my singular experience was, then perhaps we can contemplate what a future together might look like.”

An uncomfortable minute passed as his dark gaze searched her face. He ran his thumb and forefinger down the bridge of his nose.

“I confess, I’m conflicted, Everleigh. I feel it would be dishonorable to bed you outside the bonds of marriage. You could get with child.”

She could.

A grin kicked his mouth up on one side. “Though don’t think for an instant that I don’t find you desirable. I’ve had a constant cock-stand since that first night you walked into the drawing room.”

“Cock-stand?”

She dropped her gaze to his lap where the evidence of his arousal bulged.

“Oh. I see.” Turning her mouth downward, she scrunched her forehead. “I . . .” Gads, but this was awkward. “I thought there were ways to prevent conception.”

“There are, but you wouldn’t have a complete sexual experience. I would have to withdraw before completion.” He set the puppy aside. “Do you understand what that means?”

Good Lord. Here they were kneeling in a horse stall, chatting about sex when at any moment a stable hand might come upon them. She might be known as the Ice-Queen but she’d not have her reputation in tatters.

“I believe I do, and I also believe it is time to return to the house.”

She stood and cautiously looked around.

Thank God. They were still alone.

Griffin stood as well.

“What time should I come to your room?”