My Merry Marquess (Wallflower's Christmas Wish #3) - Annabelle Anders Page 0,36

head back.

“I promise.” And then he sealed that promise by kissing her in a way that could leave no doubt.

“Are you two lovebirds ready for some pie?” Eve jumped at the interruption, but Nick held her tightly. Standing at the door was the elderly woman he’d met the morning after his arrival. She was smiling knowingly and leaning on the arm of an elderly gentleman.

“Lady Tannenbaum.” He reluctantly dropped his arms from around his dear, sweet Eve, rose, and bowed. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home.”

“This is Mr. Kringle. You must be Eve’s Merry Marquess. I’m so happy to meet you at last. And we’ve arrived just in time for dessert. Now tell me all about yourself, Lord Merriweather. I believe I met your parents a few years back. Lovely people, the duke and duchess. How are they? In good health, I hope?”

Eve shifted a glance toward him as her aunt took a seat and the cook arrived with additional plates and cutlery.

Nick ached to have her in his arms again, and for what remained of the night, but it was not to be.

He would, however, have her for the rest of his life. No chance in hell she was getting away this time.

Chapter 11

“I wasn’t planning on coming back to the house so early, Eve, but at the last minute, I was struck by a bout of guilt. I contemplated what your mother would have to say if she knew that I had intentionally left you unchaperoned with a handsome marquess in the hopes that you’d land yourself a husband. Without a doubt, she’d throw me in the Thames for it.”

Eve stared at the door where Mr. Kringle and Nicholas had exited only moments before and fought the urge to strangle her aunt.

“And Mr. Kringle, of course, agreed. Although I must admit that you and your sisters have put something of a kink in our… business. So we dressed quickly and made our way back here. Judging by the look in your young Merriweather’s eyes, it was in the nick of time.”

“Oh, but we never meant to cause you any trouble, Aunt. Noelle and Holly and I are old enough—you say that the two of you got dressed?” Eve’s brows shot up.

Aunt Winifred waved a hand through the air dismissively. “You girls have been a joy to have. I’m not fool enough, however, to imagine these present circumstances are anything more than temporary. And that is precisely as it ought to be. Noelle will be marrying her duke, Holly will reel in that Tidemore fellow, and a betrothal between you and the marquess is practically a done deal. If he doesn’t come forth with an offer, I’ll chase after him for you myself.”

It was likely that Nicholas would have proposed already if her aunt hadn’t had her last-minute attack of conscience.

Well, highly possible. Eve’s heart jumped. Of course, he meant to marry her!

Didn’t he?”

“Now, go on up to your room and get a good night’s sleep. And don’t try anything havey-cavey, either.” Her aunt pointed at her. “It’s been difficult enough to keep an eye on the three of you traipsing back and forth from the inn with Mr. Clark’s help. With my butler gone, I’m going to need you to behave better.”

“I would never.”

“Of course, you wouldn’t. Nor would you ever visit a man’s chamber alone under the premise of delivering a pie.”

Eve’s eyes widened in horror.

“It’s no matter. As I said, though, run along and get some sleep. You’ll have plenty of time to flirt and tease your Merry Marquess tomorrow—in the full light of day—with me and Mr. Kringle sitting discreetly on the opposite side of the parlor.”

And then her aunt giggled.

Lying in bed that night, Eve ought to have been able to fall into a deep and contented sleep. Nicholas loves me. She’d told Nicholas that she loved him.

She sent a prayer up for everything to work out for Noelle and the duke, and a second one for Holly. But surely her aunt was wrong about that Tidemore fellow? Holly hadn’t mentioned so much as a single word…

The feelings of hope and love and excitement were familiar. So familiar that they were somewhat terrifying.

The last time she’d experienced them, devastation had followed.

She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, barely lit by moonlight filtering in through the window.

This sense that all of it was going to fall apart was not rational. It wasn’t logical. She rolled over and punched at