However, with so many people clamouring for her attention, he couldn’t get her alone.
Besides, he’d first needed to find Angela and enlist the lady’s help.
When he’d asked, she’d eyed him shrewdly before suddenly cackling.
“I knew you had it in you,” she’d said approvingly. “Some had their doubts. But I knew it had to be you.”
The cryptic words had confused him, but he hadn’t had the time to worry about them.
Once he’d secured her promise, he’d found his way to the kitchens and worked his charm on the cook before finally retiring so he’d be up and ready on time this morning.
They reached a small folly tucked away in the corner of a walled garden, empty now of any flowers or greenery.
It was still beautiful, though. Perhaps even more so with the pond frozen over and the surfaces covered in fluffy snow.
“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?” Holly asked as he led her to a small wooden bench then set out blankets and the repast he’d brought.
“It is,” he agreed then stood to take her hand and lead her to the blankets. “And so are you.”
She blushed, as he’d hoped she would, and sat demurely on the bed of rugs and blankets he’d set out.
He poured her a healthy measure of brandy, laughing when she eyed the amber liquid in disgust.
“It will counteract the cold,” he assured her.
“And there’s no better way to do that?”
It was an innocent question. Rationally, he knew that. But that didn’t stop his body leaping to all sorts of delicious conclusions and all the better ways he could warm her up.
He didn’t trust himself to say anything, so he quietly removed hispiece de resistance.
Holly gasped as he uncovered a plate of gingerbread, and Evan felt a surge of tenderness as her eyes lit up.
He delighted in bringing her even this small pleasure. It gave him more joy than he could have imagined.
“Thank you, Evan.” She smiled up at him, and damned if that expression didn’t warm him more than any amount of brandy could have.
Not trusting himself to speak, lest he blurt out his feelings before he felt sure they were reciprocated, he merely raised his glass to her before taking a healthy gulp.
It was cowardice, perhaps, not to take that final leap of faith. But he couldn’t help remembering the feelings of rejection and humiliation he’d experienced when Celia had run from him.
And he hadn’t loved Celia.
If he were to confess his love to Holly and have her walk away – well, frankly, he wasn’t sure he’d survive it.
Yet, he was leaving in only two weeks.
If he didn’t take his chance soon, it would be too late.
And wasn’t it worth the risk of rejection, for the chance to make her his?
If she didn’t love him, he’d be heartbroken.
But if he let her go, he’d be destroyed.
The sound of coughing and spluttering interrupted his rather maudlin thoughts, and he looked over to see that Holly had swallowed a huge gulp of brandy.
“That’s horrible,” she complained between gasps, and he couldn’t help but laugh.