Page 3 of Christmas with the Earl (To All The Earls I’ve Loved Before #1)

The door opened without ceremony, and Nell found herself face to face with a tall man in a many-caped greatcoat still dusted with snow.

Dark hair showed beneath a beaver hat that had seen better days, and keen gray eyes swept the room with the systematic thoroughness of someone conducting a military inspection.

Those gray eyes paused on Nell with unmistakable surprise before moving to Lady Greystowe with what could only be described as resignation.

"Aunt Margaret," the man said, removing his hat and offering a perfunctory bow.

His voice held the clipped precision of someone accustomed to giving orders.

"I hope you'll forgive the intrusion. The roads were worse than expected, and I thought it best to push through rather than risk being stranded at some coaching inn. "

"Thomas." Lady Greystowe moved forward, her hands extended in welcome despite the obvious shock of his unexpected arrival. "My dear boy, what a surprise. We had no word you were coming."

"No word seemed advisable," he replied curtly, allowing her to clasp his hands briefly before stepping back. "I prefer to see things as they actually are, rather than as they're prepared to be seen."

His gaze moved back to Nell, and his jaw tightened slightly. But for just a moment—so briefly she might have imagined it—something else flickered across his features. Recognition, perhaps, or confusion. As if he were seeing something he hadn't expected to find.

When he spoke again, his voice carried a distinct chill that seemed almost deliberately imposed.

"I was not aware we were entertaining houseguests."

The censure in his tone was unmistakable, and Nell felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment and rising indignation. Lady Greystowe, however, drew herself up with all the dignity of her rank.

"Lady Eleanor Winthrop is a most welcome guest," she said firmly. "The daughter of Viscount Fairfield, and Isabella's dear sister. She has kindly agreed to spend the Christmas season with me."

"Has she indeed?" Thomas—the new Earl of Greystowe, Nell realized with growing dismay—looked her up and down with the sort of assessment one might give a problem to solve. "How... convenient."

The word dripped with implications that made Nell's temper flare. She had come seeking peace, not to be treated like a fortune-hunting interloper by a man who hadn't even had the courtesy to announce his arrival.

"My lord," she said, dropping the best curtsy protocol demanded while managing to make it somehow seem like a challenge. "I do hope my presence won't inconvenience you unduly."

The smile that accompanied her words was perfectly polite and absolutely glacial.

Thomas studied her for a long moment, and Nell had the uncomfortable feeling he was seeing rather more than she intended to reveal. His expression shifted almost imperceptibly—the hard lines around his eyes softened for just an instant before he caught himself and resumed his stern demeanor.

When he finally spoke, his tone remained coolly formal, though something underneath suggested he was fighting to maintain that distance.

"Not at all, Lady Eleanor. I'm sure we shall manage to accommodate one another perfectly well."

Nell turned away before she could read more into the narrowing of his eyes, but not quickly enough to miss his quiet murmur as he passed his aunt.

"God help us if she's anything like her sister."

The words struck like cold water. Her spine stiffened. Whatever spark of grudging interest she’d felt moments ago shriveled beneath the weight of his condescension. So he thought her a pale imitation, then—perhaps just another decorative burden left behind by the dead.

The way he said it suggested he believed no such thing, yet there was an odd hesitation in his voice, as if he weren't entirely convinced of his own antagonism.

Lady Greystowe, clearly sensing the tension crackling between them, stepped smoothly into the breach.

"Thomas, you must be exhausted after such a journey in this weather.

Let me have Mrs. Hartwell prepare the Earl's chambers, and perhaps you'd care to join us for luncheon once you've had a chance to refresh yourself? "

"That would be acceptable," Thomas replied, his attention still fixed on Nell with an intensity that made her distinctly uncomfortable. "I trust we'll have ample opportunity to become better acquainted during my stay."

His tone softened almost imperceptibly on the last words, and for a moment, Nell wondered if she had misjudged his meaning entirely.

After he departed to see about his rooms, leaving his snow-dampened greatcoat draped over a chair and an uncomfortable silence in his wake, Lady Greystowe turned to Nell with an expression of sincere apology.

"My dear, I am so sorry. Thomas has always been rather... direct in his manner, but I fear military life has made him even more so. Please don't take his brusqueness to heart."

But there was something in Lady Greystowe's eyes—a calculating gleam that hadn't been there before, as though she were suddenly seeing possibilities she hadn't previously considered.

Nell managed a smile, though she could still feel the echo of those gray eyes studying her with such obvious suspicion—and something else she couldn't quite identify. "Of course not. It's his home, after all. I'm the intruder here."

"Nonsense," Lady Greystowe said firmly, though her tone had acquired a thoughtful quality. "You are my invited guest, and you are most welcome. Thomas will simply have to adjust his expectations accordingly."

But as they made their way back toward the morning room, Nell couldn't shake the feeling that adjusting expectations was going to prove far more complicated than Lady Greystowe anticipated.

The Earl of Greystowe had looked at her like a threat to eliminate—yet something in those final moments suggested his antagonism might not be as straightforward as it appeared.

Either way, her peaceful retreat had just become significantly more complicated.

The snow continued to fall outside the windows, each flake adding to the growing barrier between Greystowe Hall and the outside world. They were well and truly snowed in now, Nell realized, trapped together whether they liked it or not.

Somehow, she suspected the Earl liked it even less than she did.

But perhaps, just perhaps, his protests weren't quite as convincing as he wanted them to be.