Page 35 of Her Devil of a Duke
“Why not?” Evelyn thought there was something really rather beautiful about this castle in the snow. The trees were covered in their light dusting, and the lake beyond at the edge of the estate glistened with ice. “It’s beautiful.”
“Deadly too.”
“What?” Evelyn looked sharply at Rafe beside her. He shrugged, as if unnerved to answer the question.
“Let’s just say this. You know how you are not fond of the dark?” he asked softly, lowering his voice to a quiet whisper. He glanced over his shoulder, clearly checking that no one was around to hear them.
“Yes?”
“I am not fond of the snow.” He jerked his head toward the glass that barricaded them from the ice. “It… unnerves me.” He raised his arms and folded them across his chest.
Evelyn moved toward him. There was something odd about picturing the great tall and strong man beside her being afraid of anything, but she knew better than most that not all fears were perfectly reasonable. Oftentimes, they stemmed from haunting memories of life's most dreadful moments.
It's why I cannot stand the dark. It reminds me of that night alone with my parents gone…
“I won’t press you on why it unnerves you,” she whispered, laying a hand on his arm. “But let me ask you this.” He looked down at the touch she had given him, his expression softening greatly. “If you do not like it, why are we going out into it?”
“I don’t particularly want to go, but presently, in its current state, there is no safer way to reach the other side of the west wing.” He inhaled fully. “If I am to teach you properly, Evelyn, then a large part of it is to show you how to dress in a way that catches a man’s eye. There are some exquisite gowns in that part of the building. In an old coffer, there are gowns that once belonged to my mother, Theodosia Fitzroy. Beautiful gowns, fitting of a duchess, which would aid in our lessons. I can’t get there by going through the castle as the entrance to the west wing is on the verge of collapsing. So this looks to be the only way.”
He took the handle on the French door, turning it. He moved it so slowly, with such nervousness that Evelyn placed her hand over his.
I cannot let him do this.
“What if I were to go instead?”
“What?” He looked up at her.
“You have kept me company in the dark the last few nights now,” she reminded him gently. “Let me go to the west wing and get these gowns for you. Please? That way, you do not have to face what unnerves you too.”
Rafe looked ready to argue. He looked at the snow and shook his head.
“I couldn’t let you do that.”
“Why not?”
“For one thing, it’s bloody freezing outside. For another, the west wing is dangerous – the structure is practically on the verge of collapsing.”
“You said yourself that its damage is isolated to this end of the wing, not the other where you wish to go, yes?”
“Yes, but–”
“Then it’s settled.” She took his hand off the door handle and turned it herself, preparing to step out. “I shall retrieve the gowns, and you shall wait here,Your Grace.”
Rafe still didn’t look comfortable with the idea and hovered in the doorway.
“Please?” She moved toward him. “Let me be of use to you.”
Something in his expression soothed and he smiled. With a tender look in his eyes, he slowly tilted his head, drawing her into a soft kiss. It was chaste, gentle, and it surprised her more than any of their previous kisses. Every other kiss had not only been passionate, but hidden in the confines of the night when they were completely alone. Now, it was day, and they stood in a vast drawing room, where any of the servants could pass by and see them together.
That kiss…
It meant more to her, somehow, as if he had kissed her for a different reason than the usual one.
“Very well,” he conceded with a sigh. “Just shout if you need help or anything. I’ll come running, even with the snow.”
“You have my word.” She stepped out through the door and into the snow-shrouded garden, pulling her Spencer tightly about her shoulders to ward off the chill. Before she left, Rafe gave her quick instructions of where to find the room in the west wing, then she set off, hurrying down the path that circled the castle, though she tried her best not to run, fearful of slipping in the ice.
When she reached the door that he had described, she turned the handle, surprised to find it was indeed unlocked. Stepping inside, she hoped it would be warm, but it wasn’t. It was as cold as the chill outside.
