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Edith smiled, well-aware of Lord Whickerton’s curious gaze upon her. Still, she made it a point not to meet his eyes. Instead, she stumbled in her step, holding on tightly to Adele. Her friend slowed as well, turning to her with questioning eyes. “Are you all right?”

Edith nodded, noting that Adele’s arm had slipped from Lord Aberley and that he, in turn, had failed to notice, for he was too engrossed in his conversation with Lady Mary.

Trudging onward, Edith glanced around and quickly located Cameron MacKinnear, his gaze still fixed upon Adele, who tried her best not to look at him. Edith, however, had no such qualms. As Lord Aberley and Lady Mary walked ahead—the distance between them and the rest of their group growing larger with each step—Edith smiled at the Scot, beckoning him over. The man hesitated for no more than a second before purposeful strides carried him closer.

Beside Edith, Adele drew in a shuddering breath, her gaze fixed upon the snow-covered ground.

“Mr. MacKinnear,” Edith exclaimed, once again feeling Lord Whickerton’s calculating and somewhat amused eyes on her, “I see you’ve brought your own axe.” She pointed to the sharp blade protruding from the wooden handle currently resting upon the Scot’s shoulder. “My friend,” she tugged Adele forward, “has a truly good eye for a fitting yule log. Perhaps she can assist you.”

The look in Mr. MacKinnear’s eyes told her loud and clear that he knew what she was doing…and that he was grateful for it. “Aye, I’d appreciate that,” he replied, stepping forward and offering Adele his arm.

Somewhat hesitant, Adele accepted, clearly fearful of seeing her hopes disappointed. Still, her cheeks glowed a rosy-red, and Edith doubted it had anything to do with the cold and everything with the dazzling man by her side.

Slowing her steps yet again, Edith smiled as she watched them walk ahead.

“You’re a crafty one,” Lord Whickerton’s friend commented with an amused grin as he looked past his friend at her. “And here I thought only old matrons tried their hands at matchmaking.”

Edith laughed. “I assure you, my lord, it is a skill that must be honed. Only years of practice enable one to do this with ease.”

He chuckled before winking at her as he took his leave. “I’ll see you later, old friend.” He clasped Lord Whickerton’s shoulder briefly and then walked away.

Drifting closer, Lord Whickerton looked at her. “May I offer you my arm?” he asked as he searched her gaze in the dim light of the torch he held.

Edith smiled and nodded, and the moment she settled her hand upon his arm, her insides did that oddthingagain. They seemed to twist and turn and flutter, as though she were falling from a great height while at the same time floating almost weightlessly on the surface of a lake. It felt exhilarating and peaceful, too, and it make her wonder how she had not longed for this feeling every day of her life.

“Do you regret our kiss?” Lord Whickerton asked, unexpectedly, as he pulled to a halt, his jaw tense, as though his teeth were grinding together almost painfully.

Chapter Fourteen

IF…

Holding his breath, Jasper looked down into Lady Edith’s face. In the dim light from the torch, her face lay in shadows, the fur-lined hood of her cloak keeping her almost hidden from his curious gaze. If only he knew what she was thinking, for as expressive as those deep blue eyes were, she knew how to keep her thoughts concealed.

“Why would you ask that?” Lady Edith inquired instead of answering him. Not that Jasper was surprised!

“Because I wish to know,” he simply replied, determined to have an answer, to not allow her to sidetrack him.

Indeed, their kiss had meant everything to him, had made him believe that she, too, cared for him the same way he had come to feel for her. Yet the way she seemed to almost effortlessly manipulate those around her—even for their own good—gave him pause. Could anyone truly know her motives? Her heart? Or did every look and smile serve a purpose? Were they only the means to an end?

With most rushing ahead to witness the cutting of the yule log, Jasper found the world around them quiet. Soft snowflakes danced in the air, settling on her cloak, the light from his torch making them glisten like diamonds. Her warm breath drifted from her lips in a small cloud, and Jasper watched it—almost mesmerized—as it slowly disappeared into the night.

“What is it you fear, my lord?” Lady Edith inquired, a soft smile curving her sensuous lips.

“That you will forever evade my question,” Jasper huffed out in a deep breath. Still, her smile was intoxicating, and he felt himself answer it without thinking.

Lady Edith laughed. “I admit I have that tendency.” She breathed in deeply of the cold night air. “No,” she finally said. “No, I do not regret it.”

Jasper exhaled the breath he had been holding.

“Do you?”

Watching a slight frown come to her face, Jasper shook his head. “No, never. I—”

Something heavy crashed to the forest floor, sending vibrations out through the land, quickly followed by a loud cheer.

“I suppose they found a fitting yule log,” Lady Edith exclaimed with a laugh as they turned toward the commotion. Excited voices drifted through the air, and they already glimpsed a few guests beginning to make their way back to the castle.

“May I?” Jasper asked, once again offering her his arm. “Unless you insist on waiting for your friend.” He grinned at her, wiggling his brows.


Tags: Bree Wolf Historical