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She’d thought about turning on her heel and running but instead found herself walking toward the comforting smell.

This was yet another opportunity for her to remember Mama, not with sadness and grief, but with happiness and fondness.

As soon as she’d stepped inside the bustling kitchens and been enveloped in Cook’s arms, Holly knew she’d done the right thing.

However, if she’d been hoping that the surprisingly comforting act of making gingerbread would distract her from thoughts of Evan, she was sorely disappointed.

Which is why she was standing here now being gently admonished by Cook.

“I’m sorry.” She smiled weakly. “I’m afraid that I’m rather distracted today.”

“Probably thinking of the delicious Lord Stockton, am I right?”

Holly whipped round at the cackle behind her to see Lady Angela, a positively leering grin on her face.

She hadn’t even heard her come up behind her.

“Lady Angela, please,” Holly admonished weakly. “That’s not – I mean, I wasn’t –“

“Oh tosh, of course you were.” Lady Angela sniffed outrageously. “And who could blame you? The man looks like he was carved by angels.”

A shocked bark of laughter escaped Holly at the crazy old woman’s boldness.

She wasn’t wrong but still, one hardly went around saying such things.

“Which begs the question,” Lady Angela continued, her eyes narrowing shrewdly. “Why are you hiding in here instead of hunting him down out there?”

“I-I’m not,” Holly argued. “I just – I’m helping Cook to, to –“

“Your cook doesn’t need your help,” Angela interrupted frankly. “If anyone in this room needs help it is you, young lady.”

Holly was feeling steadily more affronted at the interfering woman’s comments but before she could deliver any sort of set down, Lady Angela reached over and clasped Holly’s hands.

“You have hidden yourself from the world for too long, Lady Holly.”

Angela’s shocking green eyes bored into Holly, making her feel as though the older lady saw her very soul.

“You have missed your mother, yes. But you have also allowed the loss of her life to steal your own.”

Holly could only stare at Angela, as a lump filled her throat and tears stung her eyes.

It was true, what Angela said. Holly hadn’t just mourned her mother but had actively buried herself in her grief, especially at this time of year.

Mama had loved the yuletide season. And instead of continuing her traditions for the beloved holiday, Holly had turned her back on it. Tried to ignore it and the memories it evoked. Convinced herself that it was too painful.

Only this year, having to decorate for their guests, and being down here making gingerbread again, it wasn’t pain that she felt. But joy.

The memories weren’t dismal but joyful.

And shewashiding. Hiding from Evan and the feelings he’d awoken in her. Feelings so intense that they scared the wits out of her.

Even from across the room she’d felt the pull of attraction.

Yet it was madness to think that way. They’d known each other but a week. How could she be thinking such things, feeling such things so quickly?

“Sometimes the heart knows exactly what it wants the moment it finds it, Lady Holly,” Angela continued as though she could read Holly’s thoughts. “Don’t try to understand it, it’s not for you to understand. The only thing you can do is be brave enough to take the gift when its offered.”

Holly could only stare in wonder at the lady in front of her. This wonderful, strange lady who had appeared as if from nowhere and somehow seemed to know Holly more than she even knew herself.