Page 285 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

There was very little Aaron liked better than gazing at Estelle. It had always been this way. His contracts and ledgers were staid and tedious, but she was vibrant and charismatic.

He warmed at the sparkle in her eyes and the enthusiasm apparent in every gesture. Everything Estelle did, she did with all of her heart.

She loved with all of her heart...

And sheleftwith all of her heart.

What if she didn’twantto give their romance a second chance, no matter how much money Aaron earned to build a future together?

“All right.” Estelle clapped her hands together. “We’ll meet back here in full costume, an hour before our inaugural Christmas Day performance. Get some rest, and have a very happy Christmas!”

Aaron leapt to his feet.

She was heading in his direction.

His heart pounded.

Just before she reached the edge of the stage where Aaron stood, Estelle turned and continued along the edge to a short set of stairs hidden in one corner.

He straightened his hat and hurried to meet her.

“What did you think?” she asked.

“I think you’re brilliant,” he replied.

He also thought she was beautiful and kissable and countless other irresistible traits. Having her within arm’s length made him want to close the gap between them. To pull her into his embrace, their pounding hearts pressing together as their mouths reunited at last.

How he missed the feel of her softness beneath his fingers. Her hair, her cheek, the curves of her body. It was as if every inch of his body remembered every bit of hers. He loved her so much, there was no room left in his mind for anything else.

“Will you come to our opening night?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” he answered.

Aaron would be there on opening night and every night thereafter.

He was suddenly and viscerally pleased that hecouldbe there for every performance. If he had not accepted the new terms of his post with Mr. Marlowe, Aaron would still be at his natty London bureau, hunched over an escritoire whilst Estelle made her theatrical debut on the other side of England.

“It’s not what I hoped for...” she began.

“It’s better,” he said without hesitation. “You’re no man’s understudy. You’re in charge. It is literally your show, and there is no one more suited to the position. London’s loss is Cressmouth’s gain.”

“Happy Christmas, Estelle!” called the last of the actors before disappearing out into the gently falling snow.

They were alone now.

Two coat-and-muffler draped souls standing before a curtained stage, surrounded by a half-moon of tiered stone seats. The audience was empty, but their lives didn’t have to be. It was up to them how they chose to fill it.

“I’ve missed you,” he said quietly.

She lowered her eyes. A blush crept up her cheeks. She didn’t say she’d missed him, too. Nor did she scoff or send him away.

It gave him hope.

“You should go,” she said. “I’m sure you’re busy.”

“I’m exactly where I want to be.”

She arched a brow. “Being snowed upon in an empty amphitheatre?”

---