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meeting with Litton, but then where was he? He knew she probably wouldn’t welcome his company, but if he just happened to be strolling in the same direction—where was the harm? How could she object?
    With the thick blanket of snow muffling his footsteps, Chetwyn took off after her. He remembered how much she enjoyed the outdoors. Perhaps like him, she was simply starting to feel hemmed in. The last thing he wanted was to play a game of charades, and he seemed to recall that was first on the list of today’s entertainments. As he quickened his pace, he closed the distance between them and caught glimpses of her through the trees. She trudged on with such determination and purpose. In one gloved hand, she held a pair of skates, and he realized she was hoping to find a pond frozen over. He waited until she’d gone far enough that he didn’t think she’d contemplate returning to the residence in order to avoid his company. Then he lengthened his stride until he caught up to her.
    “Bit brisk out for a walk, isn’t it?”
    She swung around, the fire of anger in her eyes, when he much preferred the fire of passion. He was surprised that all of the snow around them didn’t melt. “Let me be, Chetwyn.”
    “You can’t possibly think that I’m going to allow you to march off into the woods alone.”
    “I’m certain I’ll be quite safe.”
    It wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. “Why isn’t Litton accompanying you? Did you have a squabble during breakfast?”
    “It’s none of your affair.” She pursed her lips before blurting, “His head hurt. He was up for a good bit of the night.”
    Drinking and gambling, he thought, based upon what he’d heard. Tristan had told Chetwyn over their warm eggs and toast that Litton had ended his night with markers owed to several of the lords. He didn’t know why he wanted her to feel better about the blighter. “Many were, from what I understand.”
    “We’re just fortunate that they didn’t walk into the billiards room during an inopportune moment.”
    “I wouldn’t have allowed your reputation to be sullied.”
    “Sometimes it can’t be helped. Please return to the manor, Chetwyn. I’m out here alone because I need solitude.”
    “Are you rethinking your plans to marry Litton?”
    “I’m rethinking my decision not to knock my skates against your thick skull.”
    He couldn’t help but smile. “At least you are thinking of me.”
    “Good God, but you are vexing,” she stated before tromping off.
    He should let her go. She didn’t want his company. But he might never have another opportunity to be in her presence alone. He looked up at the sky. Gray, with heavy clouds, it had an ominous feel to it.
    Falling into step beside her, he said, “I think we’re in for some more nasty weather.”
    “I’m quite capable of dealing with a bit of snow.”
    Holding his thoughts, he simply watched her breaths turning white and fading away. Her cheeks were ruddy, her strides determined. He remembered his father telling him about a well-stocked pond on the estate where he’d fished with the previous Duke of Keswick. Chetwyn wondered if that was where she was heading. She certainly seemed to know where she was going. She also seemed to have given up on attempting to convince him to leave her alone.
    The bare trees were laden with snow. Every now and then a stray breeze blew a dusting of white from its perch. A hushed silence surrounded them. It seemed the place to let anger go, or at the very least a place to share a special moment, to create a memory that would last a lifetime. If he could not have her forever, he could at least have her for now. He didn’t know if it would soften or sharpen the regret with which he would live.
    He took her elbow. She pivoted around, her arm swinging the skates toward his head. He ducked, and when they’d passed he grabbed her other arm and propelled her back against the nearest tree; then, releasing the hold on one arm, he touched