Page 10 of The Taming of the Countess

CHAPTER TEN

L ater that evening, James found Evangeline in the drawing room, hanging gingerbread biscuits on the fir tree while his mother tied brightly coloured ribbons on the boughs. Although Iris still carried the grief of her husband’s death, for the first time in a long while, it seemed that his mother was enjoying herself.

‘Hello!’ Iris greeted him. ‘Are you a friend of Evie’s? Or perhaps Rose and Lily’s?’

Her question struck him like a fist in his gut. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say, but Evangeline saved him by saying, ‘This is my husband, James. Could he join us?’

‘Why, of course. My son is also named James.’

An ache caught him, but he tried not to react. Iris beamed at him and held out a wooden box. ‘There are a few of these to hang on the boughs. I’ve filled them with sweets for Christmas morning.’ She motioned to a small pile of boxes.

One, in particular, caught his eye. It was a box he had painted as a small boy. He remembered his father telling him that if he was a good boy, Father Christmas might place sweets inside it. They had set out several boxes near the hearth, and sure enough, in the morning, he and his sisters had found treats within their boxes.

He reached for the first box, and Evangeline met his gaze with a trace of encouragement. He understood that she wanted his mother to enjoy the evening, so he pushed aside his own feelings and tied the box to one of the boughs.

‘Be careful of the candles,’ his mother warned. ‘Oh, isn’t this pretty. I do love this new custom of decorating a fir tree. Prince Albert came up with the idea, and I must say, it is lovely.’

‘I agree,’ Evie said. Then she thought a moment and asked Iris, ‘Do you, by chance, play the piano? Do you know any Christmas carols?’

His mother brightened. ‘I haven’t played in years. But perhaps I might remember a few songs.’ She finished tying another ribbon and went to sit at the piano. For a moment, she closed her eyes and found the keys. A moment later, Iris began playing ‘Coventry Carol,’ and she attempted to sing. Her voice held a quaver, and it was rather off-key, but James stopped tying boxes and began to listen.

Evie came up beside him and took his hand in hers. He squeezed it hard and pressed his hand against her lower back. Her blue gown was simple in design, but it brought out the vivid colour of her eyes.

‘We should sing, James,’ she said quietly.

He nodded but couldn’t bring himself to start. If he did, he feared he would choke up. But instead, Evie joined his mother and sang loudly.

‘Lully Lullay, thou little tiny child. Bye-bye, lully lullay…’

When Evie elbowed him, James joined in at last.

The moment he did, Evie turned in surprise. ‘You’re a very good baritone, James.’

‘He always did have a good singing voice,’ Iris remarked. And in that moment, she seemed to remember who he was.

‘Sing some more,’ Evie said. ‘I’ll pour the wine.’

As his mother continued to play, he kept singing while his wife brought glasses of wine for all of them. Iris continued playing, and it stunned him that she could remember so many songs. He’d known that his mother could play, but it was as if the music had reached down into a forgotten part of her mind and had brought her back.

She took a sip of wine. ‘Oh, my, that’s good. I do like your wife, James.’

‘I like her, too,’ he answered and drank from his own glass. ‘And she looks beautiful tonight, don’t you think?’

‘She does.’ Iris nodded over to the corner. ‘Why don’t you dance with her, and I’ll play another song?’

‘You don’t have to—’ Evie started to say, just as James took her hand in his.

‘I think that’s an excellent idea.’ He drew her into a slow waltz, staring into her eyes. He saw a sprig of mistletoe over the doorway and started moving her in that direction.

But instead of playing a slow dance, his mother began a rousing polka. Her hands flew over the keyboard, and there was no choice but to follow the music. Evie started laughing, and so did he.

He took her on a fast-paced dance around the room and spun her in a circle. She nearly stumbled over her feet, and he lifted her up to keep her from falling. And just as the music came to a stop, he brought her beneath the mistletoe and kissed her lightly.

Iris closed the lid of the piano and said, ‘I think this is one of the nicest Christmases I’ve had in a long time.’

‘It is,’ he agreed.

‘We should put out our stockings,’ Evie suggested. She handed one to him and one to Iris. They draped them in front of the fireplace mantel, and he then turned back to his mother.

‘It’s getting late,’ Iris said. ‘I think I’d like to go to bed now.’ She ventured a smile. ‘I would like to celebrate Christmas morning with you both. If it’s not too much trouble.’

‘Not at all.’ Evie reached for her hand and squeezed it. ‘Thank you for playing the piano. The music was wonderful.’

A maid came to escort the dowager to her room, and James stayed behind with his wife. She looked as if she was about to leave the room, but he stopped her. ‘Thank you. I haven’t seen my mother this happy in a long time.’

She ventured a smile. ‘I enjoyed it, too. I think she’s lonely.’

He agreed and led her to stand by the fire. ‘Tonight was a wonderful gift for both of us. I’m grateful.’ Somehow, Evie had found a way to bring his mother back to the present, even if only for a few hours.

He rested his hand at her waist while they warmed themselves, and he could feel the tension rising within her posture. His wife seemed anxious, which wasn’t what he wanted at all. And so, he lifted his hands away.

‘Are you afraid of me now,’ he ventured, ‘after what I did last night?’

‘N-no.’ But it sounded like an untruth.

‘Then why are you nervous?’

She took a breath and turned to face him. ‘I shouldn’t be. I know that.’

‘I would never hurt you,’ he said. ‘Or make demands.’

She straightened her posture, and it seemed as if she were trying to make up her mind about something. Finally, she said, ‘I am trying to be friends with you. I want to talk openly with you, as we always did. But it feels strange somehow.’

Because of the physical intimacy, he guessed. She walked over to the settee and sat down. ‘We are friends, Evie. Say whatever is on your mind.’

Her face flushed, but she shrugged. ‘All right. You’re confusing me about what you want. We both know you never would have married me, had I not been in danger of being arrested. You said you wanted a marriage in name only where we lived separate lives.’

That was true enough. But he felt compelled to point out, ‘And you said you wanted to pretend to have a real marriage as your Christmas gift. For one week only.’

She appeared miserable, but she nodded. ‘I know what I asked for. And I shouldn’t have. Because when you touch me, it makes me want to love you again. It shattered me before, and I don’t want to feel that way ever again.’

Her confession seemed to reach within him, evoking both regret and the desire to change. He’d never wanted to hurt Evie, and he understood what she was trying to say. She couldn’t separate physical pleasure from her emotions. And though he’d tried, he wasn’t certain he could, either. He didn’t know what that meant for their future, but she was right. He needed to respect her wishes and be the man she needed him to be.

James moved to sit across from her and tilted her chin up to face him. ‘It’s all right, Evie. I’ll leave you alone.’

She inhaled sharply and took his hand in hers. ‘The problem is… I don’t want you to leave me alone.’

The yearning in her voice and the need seemed to reach past his boundaries to tempt him. He could kiss her right now. He could lead her upstairs to his bed, and she would yield to him, giving them both the physical release they craved.

But she was right. It was too grave a risk—and he didn’t know if he could stop himself from consummating the marriage if she were naked in his bed. He wanted to spend hours exploring her silken skin, learning what gave her pleasure, and surrendering to his own.

With reluctance, he said, ‘It’s getting late.’ He leaned over and kissed her forehead. ‘Happy Christmas, Evie.’

‘Happy Christmas.’ Her voice was tinged with regret, but she said nothing else.

He guided her upstairs and risked a glance back at the stockings they’d set out on the hearth, and added, ‘I’ll see to it that those are filled.’

But as he walked upstairs with her, he couldn’t help but think that he had cast a shadow over their Christmas.

* * *

Evangeline waited until after midnight before she crept downstairs and added her own gifts to the Christmas stockings lying on the hearth. James had already put in his own presents, but she added fresh oranges to the stockings and the sweets that she had bought earlier.

For a moment, she sat by the dying fire, feeling like an utter idiot. She ought to go to sleep, but restless feelings kept intruding. Being a countess felt like she was living someone else’s life—and she didn’t know how to find herself within it.

After a while, she rose from her seat and walked back up the stairs, finding her way in the dark. She opened the door to her bedroom and walked inside. The hearth was glowing with hot coals, and Annabelle and Dasher were sleeping in front of the fire, along with the puppies.

James’s room was in the adjoining bedchamber, and she stared at the connecting door, wondering if he was feeling as restless as she was. After a moment, she started to return to bed when she suddenly heard a muffled groan.

It might be nothing, but she walked to the adjoining door and leaned in close to listen.

Was he asleep?

She ought to leave him alone. There was no reason whatsoever to intrude. And yet, when she heard another sound, she carefully turned the knob and opened the door slightly. In the darkness, James seemed to be tossing and turning from another nightmare. Although it wasn’t entirely safe, she wanted to help him.

‘James,’ she whispered. ‘Are you awake?’

No response. She crept closer and went to see if he was all right. His body was twisted up in the covers, and she questioned whether she should just leave him.

‘Don’t,’ he mumbled beneath his breath. ‘We don’t know anything.’

India, she realised. He was still held captive by those memories. He rolled to the centre of the bed, and she sat down on the side. ‘It’s all right, James,’ she murmured. ‘It’s just a dream.’

When she reached out to touch his face, he caught her hand against his cheek. ‘Evie,’ he said softly.

‘Yes, I’m here.’ She kept her voice soothing, hoping the nightmare had ended.

‘Come to bed.’ He moved over and patted the place beside him.

She couldn’t deny that she wanted to lie beside him and feel the warmth of his arms around her. But she knew it was a terrible idea.

More than that, she wasn’t entirely certain whether he was awake. He might not be fully aware of what was happening.

‘I just came to see if you were all right,’ she said quietly.

His breathing grew steadier, and she was torn between wanting to leave and wanting to lie beside him. She wasn’t at all certain what to do.

And yet, wasn’t this what she wanted? To lie beside her husband in the hopes that their marriage could become something more?

Don’t do it , her brain warned. He’ll only break your heart.

‘Come here,’ he repeated. He caught her by the waist and pulled her down next to him. James drew her close against his body and pulled the coverlet over both of them. Was he awake, then? It seemed like it.

His skin was warm, and she froze in place, her mind racing. For a long moment, he simply held her, and Evie finally started to relax. She could sleep in his arms, and that would be all right.

Until he pulled her body against his own and she realised James wasn’t wearing any clothing at all. Her cheeks flushed, and she swallowed when his arms came around her. His breath warmed her nape, and he slid one hand upon her calf, rising higher.

Against her spine, she could feel the ridge of his arousal, and her body ached in response. Had he changed his mind about consummating their marriage? She didn’t know what he was doing or why, and she questioned whether it was right to stay here.

Don’t stay , she warned herself. This is a terrible idea.

But then, he began kissing her throat, and all thoughts of heartbreak simply fled. There was only the darkness, the heat, and his hands upon her skin. She wanted her husband to touch her, wanted to remember the same mind-searing pleasure that he’d given her when his mouth had teased her bare breasts.

Although it was undoubtedly a mistake, and she would regret this in the morning, she shifted in his arms and removed the nightgown, dropping it on the floor beside the bed. This time, when he held her, she felt every inch of his glorious skin against hers. And she told her brain to be quiet and worry about the consequences later.

‘Evie,’ he growled, and he filled his hands with her breasts, caressing the tips with his thumbs. She shifted against him, delighting in the sensation, and he guided himself to rest between her thighs. The thick length of him lay against her, and she reached down to touch him.

He groaned as she closed her hand around his hard, sensitive erection. From behind her, he moved against her wetness, and though she didn’t know why he’d changed his mind, she no longer cared. He was moving himself against her, and then, he guided the thick head to her entrance. He remained poised there, while she waited for him to thrust inside.

Instead, he brought his hand around, exploring the deli-cate skin of her womanhood. He dipped his fingers to the hooded flesh above her, and a jolt of wicked pleasure surged through her. It was everything she’d wanted, and a cry broke forth from her.

Immediately, he stopped.

‘No,’ she breathed. ‘Don’t stop.’ She hoped he would continue this sweet torment, and God help her, he did.

He circled the sensitive nub, playing with her as she grew even wetter and more aroused. He was still behind her, and he reached around to cup her breast while his other hand explored her flesh.

Her breathing was coming faster, and she no longer cared about anything except having him inside her. She reached back to guide the tip of him partially inside her and was rewarded when he gave a dark hiss.

He groaned as she pressed against him, trying to take more of him. When he started to move his hand away, she guided it back.

‘That feels so good,’ she whispered. ‘Please don’t stop touching me.’

He obeyed, and she started to push herself against him, hoping he would embed himself fully.

He gripped her waist and eased her up and down. She was still facing away from him, but he was starting to press a little deeper.

Then, without warning, he thrust inside and was fully sheathed. There was a slight burning pain, but she was so stunned at the sensation, her heart was pounding.

Was that…all he intended to do? She had thought there would be more. But he simply remained motionless within her. From behind, he held her waist and buried his face in her shoulder.

Her breathing was unsteady, but she couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. Her mother and aunts had led her to believe that lovemaking was a glorious thing.

But, then again, she had never done this before. Perhaps she was supposed to do something now? Was it her turn?

She had loved the feeling of his hand caressing her breasts, so she brought her hand to his thigh and touched him. He took her hand in his, and she brought it to her breast. He stroked her, and just then, she felt a delicious ache between her legs.

Evie raised herself up slightly, and it felt so wonderful when he began to move. ‘That feels good.’

He started a slow rhythm of moving in and out, and when he continued to caress the tight bud of her breast, it only intensified the sensation. God above, but this was what she had hoped for. From deep inside, she could feel a reckless wave pulsing, and she squeezed him from within her body. Her breathing mimicked his thrusting, but even as she arched against him, there was something elusive, something she was straining for.

She remembered how good it had felt when he’d touched her intimately, and without really understanding what she needed, she brought her own hand between her legs. The moment her fingers brushed against the hooded flesh, a sudden surge of immense pleasure began to rise.

‘Evie,’ he whispered against her shoulder, and she continued circling her own skin, finding the secret places that moved in counterpoint to his thrusts. She was shaking with need, wanting him so badly, when abruptly, he changed his rhythm and began to go faster.

There. Oh, God, there it was.

Her body erupted in a shuddering tremor of need, and she gripped him as he rode between her legs. A blazing release flooded through her, and she savoured the feelings that erupted within.

At last, James groaned during his thrusting and went still, his body embedded within hers. Her heart wouldn’t stop pounding, but she now understood what everyone meant. This was what lovemaking was meant to be. And now that she knew what it was, she felt confident that she could transform their marriage into something far more than an arrangement.

She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

* * *

When James awoke on Christmas morning, he was stunned to find his wife naked in his arms. How had this happened? He had few erotic memories of the night before, and from the way Evie’s body was curled around him, he suspected that they had, in fact, consummated the marriage.

The moment he thought back to his vivid dreams, he remembered the sweet yielding of her body to his, the way she had arched in her fulfilment. Just like that, he grew aroused, remembering what never should have happened between them.

His body went cold at the thought. Could he have got her pregnant?

He didn’t know how it had happened. He remembered dancing with her on Christmas Eve and fragments of last night. He knew the taste of her lips and her bare skin. Raw memories coursed through him as he remembered what it was to be inside Evie.

She was still sleeping, her face buried in a pillow, but her body was very, very naked. The thought evoked an unexpected wave of longing. If he had indeed claimed her body last night, what was to stop him from doing it again? His body went rigid at the thought, even as he pushed the covers aside and reached for his clothing.

No, he wasn’t going to do this. He never should have done anything at all, and he couldn’t understand how it had happened.

Quietly, he dressed himself and went to stand at the window. Outside, the sky held creases of lavender against the horizon, for it was not yet sunrise. Snow blanketed the ground, and he turned back to look at his wife.

The sight of her caught him with an invisible blow. Evie’s long hair was tangled in a dark cloud against the creamy sheets. Her hand was soft in sleep, and he still longed to get back in bed with her.

Instead, he put on his shoes and quietly left his own bedchamber to go downstairs. There were faint sounds of movement coming from the servants’ quarters, but he went into the drawing room. He added coal to the fire and stoked the hearth.

Today was Christmas morning. His mind and body drifted between trying to push back the memories of last night and trying to recall how he had taken her virginity. It bothered him that his memories were tangled with nightmares of the past.

What was he supposed to do now? He’d promised her that they would live their lives apart and never consummate the marriage. He’d lasted all but a few days.

James stared down at the Christmas stockings on the hearth, but his thoughts were far too distracted. He didn’t want to think of Evie or what she might expect from him now.

Had she…enjoyed their night together? Why had she come to him after they had already agreed to keep their distance? Guilt weighed upon him, even as he was fully aware of how satisfied his body felt. And how much he wanted to go upstairs and awaken her again with his touch.

It was now Christmas Day, and James forced his thoughts back to the present, for his mother might come to join them. Last night, Iris had seemed to enjoy their celebration. He hadn’t seen her in such good spirits in a long time. And perhaps that was his fault for leaving his family behind. He reached out to warm his hands by the fire and turned them over, revealing the white scars of the manacles. He’d only been in captivity for a few months, but it had seemed like far longer.

He’d tried to live a normal life, assuming the responsibilities of being the Earl of Penford. And yet, it felt like he was living someone else’s life. He had a wife, an estate, and both his sisters had found husbands. His life was in a familiar pattern.

But he felt adrift, lost in the expectations of others.

Evie wanted him to be her husband, and she wanted children, too. She might even be pregnant now. But how could he become a father when his life was such a mess?

He didn’t want a child looking up to him, expecting him to be a role model. Despite all his efforts to pretend as if nothing had happened, the nightmares of imprisonment haunted him still.

He was going to disappoint her in every way. And he wished to God that he’d never crossed that line.

Footsteps caught his attention, and he turned to see Evie in the doorway. She wore a dressing gown and stood barefoot. ‘Happy Christmas, James.’ In her demeanour, he saw an awkward, faltering hope.

His throat went dry at the sight of her, but he managed to nod. Every thought he’d had in his brain simply scattered. ‘I— Happy Christmas,’ he repeated.

She took a single step closer. ‘Are you all right? You left so suddenly.’

He paused, trying to think of how to begin. ‘What happened between us last night?’

Colour rose to her cheeks. ‘You don’t remember?’

He wasn’t sure how to answer that. ‘I remember pieces of it.’

She fell silent, looking all the world like she wanted to disappear.

‘I woke up beside you,’ he began, ‘but I don’t remember how we…’ His voice trailed off. ‘I know we both went to sleep in our rooms. Did you come to my bed after I was asleep?’

‘You were in the middle of a nightmare,’ she said. ‘I only came to see if you were all right.’ She reached for his Christmas stocking and handed it to him. As if the gift would somehow distract him from their conversation.

But he wasn’t about to be deterred. ‘How did you come to be in my bed?’

When he didn’t take his stocking, Evie set it on a chair. She clutched her hands and stared at the wall. ‘I don’t know quite what to say. I thought you were awake.’

He’d been dreaming for part of it, and later, he’d been unable to stop himself from touching her. That night had been so arousing, even now, the vivid memories made him want her again. He didn’t know how to feel about it and was torn between wanting to respect their boundaries and wanting to take her upstairs a second time.

In a heavy voice, he said, ‘It was a mistake that won’t happen again.’

Evie straightened and faced him. ‘I suppose you think that I stripped off my clothing, crawled into your bed, and seduced you. Is that it?’

He didn’t know what to think. ‘I don’t remember how it started.’

Her face flamed scarlet, and she stiffened with anger. ‘You were caught in a nightmare. And when I tried to wake you, you told me, “Come here.”’ She paused and added, ‘When you spoke to me, I had no reason to think you were still asleep. I thought you wanted comfort. And the next thing I knew, you were touching me.’

He didn’t argue, for he was fully aware that he’d taken advantage of her. ‘Was that what you wanted?’

Her expression grew strained, but she didn’t deny it. ‘You make me sound like I started all this. I promise you, I didn’t.’

‘This wasn’t something I intended to do,’ he pointed out. He’d intended to leave her untouched, to protect her heart and maintain their friendship. But now, it seemed that all of that was impossible.

‘We’re married now,’ she pointed out. ‘What does it matter?’

Before he could answer, Lady Penford entered the drawing room. She wore her morning gown and gaped at the sight of them. ‘Goodness. The both of you should go and get dressed.’ Her eyes gleamed at the sight of her Christmas stocking. ‘I will wait until you’ve returned before we open presents.’

Evie turned and hurried away, and James followed slowly. He knew he’d hurt her feelings, but he didn’t know how to explain to her the bone-deep fear that he could have got her pregnant. She wouldn’t understand.

And from the disappointed expression on her face, he suspected he had ruined her Christmas morning.

He climbed up the stairs towards his own bedchamber, feeling as if he’d kicked a puppy. This wasn’t the sort of marriage he’d planned for, but one night had unravelled all of it. He needed to reset the boundaries between them, to make her see that it had been a mistake, nothing more.

The best way to do that was likely physical distance. He would wait a few days until the snow had cleared, and then he would return to London. She would be safe here at Penford with his mother.

He got dressed in silence, but he was fully aware of the tangled sheets of his bed. A flare of need caught him when he saw the adjoining door slightly open. He forced himself to turn away, though he wanted to walk through that door and take her in his arms.

It was better if he left her alone. She’d married a man incapable of being the husband she needed. And if he dared to reach for more, he would only disappoint her.

* * *

Evie couldn’t stop her smile when the Dowager Lady Penford opened her first gift. The matron seemed like a small child, eagerly tearing at the brown paper.

When she held up the light blue shawl Evie had bought for her, she beamed. ‘It’s so soft and warm. I love the col-our.’

The dowager then passed Evie an awkwardly wrapped package. ‘Here. This is for you.’

Evie untied the strings and found an assortment of coloured stones inside. When she exchanged a glance at James, his expression turned guarded. And yet, she under-stood that the matron had given her something she believed to be beautiful. It was also entirely possible that no one had given the dowager any pin money to spend.

‘They’re lovely,’ Evie said, tracing the surface of one of the stones. ‘I will put them in the garden so everyone can see them.’

The older woman’s face held a glimmer of joy. ‘I’m glad.’

They exchanged a few more presents, and James gave Evie a set of embroidered handkerchiefs and a large box that contained a frosted cake. Though she thanked him and smiled, the cake brought a pang of emotion she hadn’t expected. She was still holding back tenuous feelings from last night.

Never had she thought he wasn’t fully awake when she’d come to his bed. She’d believed he had changed his mind and wanted to touch her. Seeing the look of regret on his face this morning was enough to fracture her heart.

You aren’t enough for him , her mind taunted her. He didn’t want you then, and he doesn’t want you now.

Though she tried to push away the feelings of insecurity, they plagued her still. Instead, she tried to box them up in her mind and ignore them.

She gave James his presents of a new cravat and shaving soap. He’d thanked her for them, but there was a careful reserve in his demeanour.

How could things have shifted so badly within hours of last night? She’d loved dancing with him while his mother played the piano. It had been an evening of joy and celebration.

But today was, quite possibly, the worst Christmas she’d ever had. Her husband hardly looked at her, and her stomach ached with sadness. Evie wanted to go to her room and sob out the useless feelings of heartbreak.

But then, when they were about to walk to the dining room for breakfast, it was as if a dormant part of herself reawakened. Why should she allow James to ruin her Christmas? Last night, she had done nothing wrong except try to comfort him. Never once had she made demands of him. He had invited her to his bed, and he had taken her innocence—whether he remembered it or not. It wasn’t right or fair for him to blame her.

A sudden calm came over her. She wasn’t helpless or meek.

She refused to be the same girl as before, pining after a man who didn’t want her. Yes, they were married now. But it didn’t mean she had to be a quiet, obedient wife. And maybe he needed to realise that. Maybe she needed to stop reacting to her circumstances and instead, reach for the life she wanted.

She had worked tirelessly over two years to build a business of wealth that gave women the opportunity to make their lives better. She ought to do the same for her own life. Even though she still had feelings for James, she could close them away, like shutting a book.

‘I have one more gift for you, Evie,’ James said, after they had finished eating.

She blinked out of her musings and said, ‘You do?’ She set her plate aside, wondering what it was.

He nodded and stood from the table. ‘This one is outside.’

She couldn’t quite understand, but she rose from her seat and followed him. Lady Penford gathered her shawl around her. ‘Go on without me. I should like to stay inside and be warm.’

James walked with her to the hallway where he spoke with a servant, who fetched his coat and her cloak and bonnet.

‘Shouldn’t the servants be celebrating with their families today?’ she ventured, after the footman walked away.

‘Most of them are. But there are a few who are alone, so I pay them extra, and they celebrate together,’ he explained. ‘And thank God for it, since I cannot cook.’

He drew the cloak around her, and she fastened her bonnet before they stepped outside. She had no idea what sort of present would be outside, but she followed him down the gravel path towards the stable. A sudden rise of anticipation caught her, and she hoped the gift would be an animal of some kind. A horse, perhaps?

But when they walked inside the stable, he led her to the last stall where she saw a donkey that was slightly shorter than the horses.

‘I thought you might like to raise him,’ James said. ‘You said you liked your uncle’s donkey. And I know how much you love your animals.’

‘He’s adorable,’ she murmured, reaching out to rub his head. ‘But when did you have time to arrange this?’

‘While you were out shopping,’ he admitted. ‘I’ve behaved rather like an ass lately, so it seemed apropos.’

A laugh choked in her throat, and without thinking, she embraced him. ‘Thank you, James. He’s wonderful.’

He stiffened in her arms but hugged her back. She released him immediately and distracted herself with the donkey. He was gentle and sniffed at her as she drew close. He nuzzled his head against her, and James added, ‘There was a young family who didn’t have enough to eat this Christmas. When they refused my charity, I offered to buy the donkey.’ With a crooked smile, he admitted, ‘Don’t worry I paid them far more than he was worth.’

It was an act of kindness that was the finest gift he could have given her. She scratched the donkey’s ears, and he butted his head against her arm. ‘You could not have given me anything better.’ With a light smile, she added, ‘I like the donkey, too.’

There was a warmth in his eyes that unravelled some of her earlier anger. Though she didn’t like the way he’d practically accused her of taking advantage of him, the donkey was a step towards forgiveness.

‘Have you decided upon a name yet?’ he asked.

She considered it for a time. ‘I suppose Donkey isn’t very creative. I’ll have to think.’ Her imagination wandered as she considered possible names. Then, at last, she decided upon the perfect name. ‘His name will be Hotay.’

‘That’s an odd name,’ James mused. ‘Why choose that one?’

‘Well, because he’s a donkey,’ she explained. ‘Donkey Ho—’

‘Don Quixote,’ her husband finished, with an amused smile. ‘I think that name will suit him very well. I hope you like him.’

She stared up into his green eyes. ‘I like him very much.’

The sudden intensity in her husband’s expression caught her off guard. He reached out to touch her cheek, and his thumb grazed the side of her face.

Evie held herself motionless, waiting for him to lean in and kiss her. The temptation to be within his embrace was so strong, it was a physical ache. But in the end, he let his hand fall away and led her back to the house.

She hid her disappointment and followed behind him, the snow crunching beneath her shoes.