My Merry Marquess (Wallflower's Christmas Wish #3) - Annabelle Anders Page 0,2

and blood woman, indeed, and even more beautiful now. How was that even possible?

“Were you heading to London for the holidays, My Lord?” the older woman asked impertinently. He’d been inclined to ignore her greeting initially—his head throbbed painfully, and his mouth felt rather as though it was filled with cotton—but he’d thought she might have seen Dash.

They’d damn near drank themselves into oblivion last night.

But he wasn’t the sort to be rude. One tended to catch far more flies with honey than vinegar, after all.

He jerked his eyes away from Eve to answer her. “North.” And then, unable to stop himself, his gaze returned to Eve again.

She was not as unaffected as she’d have him believe. Her cheeks turned even pinker as his gaze assessed her, and he couldn’t help but grin.

“What?” Her scowl deepened.

His eyes dropped to her chest. “Your pie.”

“Pardon me?”

“You’re ruining your pie.” He couldn’t keep the laughter from his voice. She’d clutched the damn thing to her chest, like a book, and thick golden liquid was oozing down her cloak. It served her right and yet he had to clench his fists at his side to keep from helping her.

Her expression changed from one of disdain to horror as she tilted the dish to its proper position and leaned forward in a futile effort to save her cloak. “Good gravy!” The words escaped on a gasp. The aroma of freshly baked cinnamon and apples mingled with the smoke hovering in the air.

“Eve! What on earth is the matter with you?” Her aunt, Lady Tannenbaum, hastily wiped at Eve’s coat, spreading the delicious-looking goo into even more of a mess. “You’ve ruined your beautiful pie!”

Eve closed her eyes even as her mouth tightened into a thin line, but he knew that she would be counting to ten. She’d told him it was what she did whenever her younger sisters exasperated her.

“I’m afraid it’s my fault.” Nick rubbed the back of his neck and stepped away from them. He could hardly fathom that this was even happening. How was it possible that he’d been away from England for eighteen months and the first time he ventured out of London he’d run into her? And where the hell was Dash?

As though sensing his desire to flee, she glanced up at him while her aunt continued to wipe at the pie filling. She pursed her lips and nodded, as though she was reading his mind and knew he was preparing to bolt.

He exhaled an ironic chuckle.

She had been the one to betray him. She was the one who left him.

“We mustn’t keep you from locating your friend, Lord Merriweather.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, causing her aunt to momentarily look up with a scowl.

“We’ll be certain to send word if we come across him,” Lady Tannenbaum added in a much friendlier tone.

But he couldn’t seem to look away from Eve. In that moment, her eyes reminded him of a forest after the rain, so lush and deep the green might fill a man’s soul.

“My thanks, My Lady.” Nick forced himself to look anywhere but at her.

Lady Tannenbaum had risen by now, her handkerchief and gloves covered with the sweet concoction. “Perhaps Eve will bake more pies this morning and bring one over for you to share with your friends. Or did I see a second one cooling on the table? Never let it be said that the good people of Maybridge Falls aren’t hospitable. Besides, food prepared at an inn is never as good as something cooked with love.”

Eve made a small strangled sound at the same time Nick took another step back. “That shouldn’t be necessary. The sun will melt the snow by then and we’ll be on the road without further delay.” But almost as though he’d doomed himself to the mercies of this cursed village, the sun chose that moment to disappear and large flakes of snow danced lazily on their way down from the clouds hovering above. As if to mock him, they danced faster and faster, falling from the sky.

Lady Tannenbaum laughed. “I don’t think you’re going anywhere today, My Lord.” She turned to her niece. “Run home and fetch the other pie. This kind gentleman and his traveling companions mustn’t go hungry. Meanwhile, I’ll collect our roast from Mr. Kringle. Good day, My Lord!” The elderly but spry lady pivoted with surprising grace and resumed walking in the direction she and Eve had originally been heading.

“Eve.” Her name escaped Nick’s lips unchecked. “I—”