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“Are you at least warmer?” he asked, rubbing her back until the coughing stopped.

“I suppose so,” she admitted grudgingly before grinning and reaching out for a gingerbread. “But I think I’ll stick to what I know.”

They ate in silence for a while, and she even tried another, much smaller sip of her brandy.

“Is it not far too early to imbibe?” she asked after a tentative swallow.

“Ordinarily, perhaps. But it is Christmas.” He winked.

Holly sighed and dropped her unfinished gingerbread onto the plate.

“I used to love this time of year so much.” She smiled softly, but there was a sadness in her eyes that pulled at his heartstrings. “My mother adored it, and she passed that on to me. I wish I hadn’t stopped celebrating. But I couldn’t seem to bring myself to do it alone.”

Evan reached over and clasped her hand.

“You don’t have to do it alone,” he promised softly, feeling once again on the precipice of something huge. “Not if you don’t want to.”

He saw a flicker of panic in her eyes, so he backed away.

Better to bide his time than lose her forever.

“You know—” He sat back, feigning a casualness that he didn’t feel. “I wasn’t exactly fond of this particular season, either.”

She watched him with curiosity but didn’t offer any comment.

“You remember when we first met, I was betrothed?”

She nodded but remained silent and watchful.

Evan took a deep breath and suddenly, he was pouring his heart out, telling Holly about Celia’s duplicitous nature, her lies, her cheating, and her ultimate betrayal.

He told her of his worry that his sisters would pay the price for his foolish choice. Told her how the experience had convinced him to close his heart off and never risk getting hurt again. However, every Christmas since had been nothing but a stark reminder of the most embarrassing time of his life.

When he was done, he waited for the familiar sting of humiliation. But it didn’t come.

He didn’t feel the shame, the anger, even the guilt that had thus far accompanied any talk or even thought of Celia.

Instead, he felt – relieved. That was it. He felt unburdened. Not angry about the past. But grateful for it.

Grateful that Celia’s leaving made it possible for him to meet Holly again under these circumstances.

Losing Celia meant he’d kept his freedom. And it meant that he now had the opportunity to follow his heart and to know real, true happiness with a woman that he loved so very much.

Holly hadn’t spoken a word since he began his sorry tale and when he looked at her now, she was watching him – not with pity. But with tenderness and something that he could only hope was love. A love to match his own.

“I used to think she was mad,” he finished now. “Fit for Bedlam. To throw away her life – to give up her wealth and her privilege, and everything she’d ever known, all for this foolish idea of love.”

He took a deep breath then looked directly into her eyes.

“I used to think that,” he repeated softly. “But now, I understand it perfectly.”

CHAPTER13

“Well? Have you proposed yet?”

Evan jumped as once again Lady Angela managed to sneak up on him.

It had been three weeks since he’d first met the odd little woman, and he still had no idea how she managed to appear as if from nowhere.