Page 13 of Christmas with the Earl (To All The Earls I’ve Loved Before #1)

It was a searingly honest question, and Nell found herself studying his face as she considered her answer.

"I think," she said slowly, "that you began this morning playing a role.

But I saw how you listened to Mrs. Hartley's concerns about her roof, how you made certain young Tom had warm clothing for the walk home.

That wasn't performance, Thomas. That was genuine care growing in real time. "

Thomas was quiet for several minutes as they continued their journey home, the sledge runners whispering through the snow behind them. When he finally spoke, his voice carried a note of wonder that made Nell's heart skip.

"I used to think that caring too much about a place or people was a weakness," he said. "The army teaches you to be ready to move on, to not form attachments that might cloud your judgment or compromise your effectiveness."

"And now?" Nell prompted gently.

"Now I'm beginning to understand that caring might be the very thing that makes the responsibility worthwhile.

" Thomas stopped walking and turned to face her fully, his gray eyes serious in the winter light.

"This morning, when I saw how grateful they were for simple acknowledgment, simple kindness.

.. I realized I want to be worthy of that gratitude.

I want to be the lord they deserve, not merely the heir they inherited. "

The admission hung between them in the cold air, and Nell felt something shift in her understanding of what this man might become if given the chance to grow into his role with support and encouragement.

"You will be," she said simply, meaning every word.

"Will I?" Thomas asked, and there was something vulnerable in his expression that made her want to step closer, to offer comfort through more than words. "I have no experience with this sort of responsibility, Eleanor. No training in caring for people's livelihoods and happiness."

"But you have good instincts," Nell replied, "and genuine concern for others' welfare. Those are far more important than experience or training."

They had reached the rise that offered the best view of Greystowe Hall, and Thomas paused again, his gaze moving across the snow-covered estate with an expression that had transformed completely from his first assessment of the property.

"I used to see this place as a burden," he said quietly. "A collection of expenses and obligations I never asked for. But today, watching how the village looks to the estate for leadership, for stability... I'm beginning to see it as something else entirely."

"What?" Nell asked, though she thought she might already know the answer.

"A trust," Thomas replied. "Something that belongs not just to me, but to everyone whose lives are connected to this land.

The tenants, the servants, the village families who have depended on Greystowe generosity for generations.

" He turned to look at her directly. "I can't abandon that responsibility, can I?

I can't sell the estate simply because the numbers would be tidier elsewhere. "

"No," Nell agreed softly. "I don't think you can."

"Which means," Thomas continued, his voice growing stronger with certainty, "that I need to stop thinking like a temporary visitor and start thinking like someone who belongs here permanently."

The word 'permanently' sent a flutter of anticipation through Nell's chest. If Thomas was committing himself to Greystowe Hall, to making it his true home rather than just an inherited obligation, what might that mean for the future? For the possibility of a future that might include her?

"That's a significant decision," she observed, trying to keep her voice steady despite the racing of her pulse.

"Yes, it is," Thomas agreed. "But not the only significant decision I find myself contemplating these days."

There was something in his tone that made Nell look at him more sharply, noting the way his gaze seemed to linger on her face with new intensity.

"Thomas," she began, but he held up a hand in a gesture that was becoming familiar.

"I know," he said quietly. "I know this is neither the time nor the place for certain conversations.

But I wanted you to understand that my commitment to Greystowe Hall isn't just about the estate itself.

It's about the possibility of building something here—a life, a legacy, a future that might include.

.." He paused, seeming to choose his words.

"That might include whatever happiness fate might choose to grant. "

The carefully worded statement was clearly as close to a declaration as propriety would allow, and Nell felt her heart race with the implications.

Here was Thomas telling her, in the most diplomatic way possible, that his vision of the future included her—if she was willing to consider such a possibility.

"Happiness," she repeated softly, testing the word on her tongue. It had been so long since she had dared to hope for such a thing.

"I realize I have no right to ask for your consideration of such matters," Thomas continued, his voice growing more formal as he struggled with the limitations imposed by her mourning and their brief acquaintance.

"But I hoped... that is, I wanted you to know that when the time is appropriate, when you are ready to think of your future rather than your past.. ."

He trailed off, clearly frustrated by the constraints of propriety and circumstance, but Nell had heard enough to understand his meaning.

"When that time comes," she said gently, "I will remember this conversation. I will remember this day, and the man who chose duty and caring over convenience and profit."

Thomas's smile at her words was radiant, transforming his entire countenance with hope and gratitude.

"That's all I can ask," he said simply.

As they completed their walk back to Greystowe Hall, the house rising before them with its windows glowing warmly in the winter afternoon, Nell found herself seeing it through new eyes.

Not just as a beautiful estate or a temporary refuge, but as a place where she might truly belong—not as a guest or a memory of Isabella, but as herself, creating new happiness while honoring the past.

The snow crunched beneath their feet as they approached the conservatory entrance, and Thomas paused to help her navigate a particularly deep drift.

His hands at her waist were steady and warm, and when she looked up into his eyes, she saw patience and promise and the kind of quiet certainty that spoke of a man who had finally found something worth fighting for.

"Thank you," she said softly, though they both understood she meant far more than gratitude for his assistance with the snow.

"Thank you," Thomas replied, and his voice carried the same deeper meaning.

As they stepped back into the warmth of Greystowe Hall, removing their winter wrappings and stamping snow from their boots, Nell caught sight of Lady Greystowe watching them from the drawing room doorway with an expression of profound satisfaction.

"I trust your Christmas mission was successful?" the older woman inquired with perfect innocence.

"Very successful," Thomas replied, but his gaze remained on Nell as he spoke. "In more ways than one."

And as they gathered around the fire to warm themselves and share the stories of their morning adventures, Nell realized that for the first time since Isabella's death, she was truly looking forward to the future—whatever it might bring.