Page 35 of Snowbound Surrender

Swallowing, she played a second chord to try to ease her tension, but her fingers trembled so violently it was not at all tuneful. Heat flooded her cheeks as she heard Lady Quamby’s sympathetic murmur about the cold naturally affecting her dexterity.

“Perhaps we should choose something simpler—” Fanny began, but Arabella shook her head firmly.

“No, this will be perfectly fine. I simply need a moment to...warm my hands.”

She flexed her fingers, acutely aware of Nicholas standing so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. Whenshe began again, the music flowed more smoothly, though each note seemed to pierce her heart with memories of happier times.

The first page turn came all too soon. Nicholas leaned forward, his sleeve brushing against her shoulder as he reached for the corner of the sheet music. The touch was so brief, so innocent, yet it sent a jolt through her entire being. She missed a note, then another, her breathing becoming shallow as she fought to maintain her composure.

“Courage,” he murmured, so quietly that only she could hear. But there was no warmth in his voice, only a gentleman’s obligation to assist a lady in distress.

The irony was not lost on her. Once, his whispered encouragements had filled her with confidence and joy. Now, his coldness threatened to shatter what little control she had left.

As the piece progressed, each page turn became an exquisite torture. Sometimes their hands would nearly touch as she reached for a difficult passage. Once, when he leaned closer to better see the music in the candlelight, his breath stirred the tendrils of hair at her temple, and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out.

The final crescendo approached, the notes demanding passion and fire that she no longer felt entitled to express. Her playing became mechanical, lifeless, and she felt herself a pale shadow of the woman who’d once performed this very piece with such joy that Nicholas had—he’d told her—fallen in love with her on the spot.

When the last note faded into silence, the polite applause felt like mockery. Arabella’s hands remained frozen above the keys, her chest rising and falling with the effort of containing her emotions.

“Magnificent!” declared Lady Quamby, clapping enthusiastically. “Was that not perfectly romantic, Mr. Morley? Music is the food of love! Did you not love it, too?”

Nicholas stepped back from the piano and, after a dutiful bow at Arabella, responded to his hostess’s remarks with, “Mozart’s Sonata in A Major has always had the power to move me, ma’am.”

Arabella rose unsteadily from the bench, her legs barely able to support her as she politely inclined her head, unable to escape, for Lady Quamby said, brightly, “Perhaps tomorrow, if the weather clears, we might enjoy a lovely walk in the gardens. There’s a charming little pavilion that’s wonderfully romantic in the snow.”

If the weather cleared. The words echoed in Arabella’s mind with desperate hope. If the weather cleared, then nothing would stop her from continuing her journey to Lushington Hall. She could retrieve those damning documents, protect James from the consequences of her crimes, and remove herself from Nicholas’s life once and for all.

She would speak with Sarah tonight to make plans for a swift departure at the first sign of improvement in the weather conditions.With only a few hours by carriage, Arabella could slip away, leaving Sarah to concoct an excuse or pretend her mistress was indisposed.

“Lady Lushington? Are you quite well?” Lady Quamby’s voice seemed to come from very far away.

“Perfectly well,” Arabella managed, though her voice sounded strange to her own ears. “Please excuse me, for I will retire early tonight. The travel has been rather... taxing.”

Moving towards the door, she saw that Nicholas was now standing by the piano, his hands clenched at his sides, staring at the music she had just abandoned.

Oh, if only life had been kinder and given her her heart’s desire. If only she could tell him the truth, make him understand that every day since their broken engagement had been an agony of regret and longing. If only she could explain that she had never stopped loving him, would never stop loving him, even if regaining what she had lost was beyond all possibility now.

But it was clear he would never forgive her. The coldness in his eyes, the carefully controlled distance he maintained indicated that he was clearly a man who felt deeply betrayed.

A man who would never trust again.

Tomorrow, if God was merciful, the snow would stop falling. And Arabella could finally escape this beautiful, terrible prison where her heart was slowly breaking all over again.

CHAPTER 5

Nicholas watchedArabella leave the room.

On the one hand, it had been a torment to have been so close yet so unable to bridge the chasm between them. He should be glad she had gone.

On the other hand, he wished she would stay. Her presence had reignited something deep within him that he truly had thought extinguished forever, and that gave him a little hope. Perhaps he was not dead to all feeling as he had believed.

Conversation washed over him, but he didn’t take in a thing for, despite his best intentions, she still had power over him—even if he was finally immune to her.Yes, he was immune!

But of course the same questions nagged. Had she merely been toying with him? Had she truly loved him until a better offer had come along?

He realised now that he had not returned to England a changed man. Of course, the wound in his heart had re-opened the moment he set eyes on his angel.

Ha! His angel.