Read House of Trent 01.5 - His for Christmas for Free Online

years had been pleasant ones based on his high esteem for her and the pleasant recollections he had of her. Yet her memories of him…God. They had been hellish. She’d been living under the belief that he had betrayed her in a horrible way. Worse, those words had driven beneath her skin and had attacked her on a far deeper level.
    He moved his hands down her arms until they clasped her fingers. Raising her hands to his lips, he kissed her knuckles.
    “I never meant to hurt you. The thought that I have…” He shook his head. “The last thing I ever wanted in this world was to hurt you.”
    She shrugged as if to dismiss it, yet he still could clearly see the shadows in her eyes and the tightness in her carefully schooled expression. “It happened many years ago.”
    “And you have held onto it for that long. It was why you refused to get into my carriage, wasn’t it?”
    She nodded tightly, glancing at the door again as if she wished to escape. Then she closed her eyes. “What a disaster this has been. I should have stayed home. I wish I’d listened to John about the weather.”
    That cut him. If she’d stayed in London, he’d have never made love to her. What she was ultimately saying now was that she regretted it. That it was a disaster .
    Shoving down his raw reaction to her words, he kept his voice even as he asked, “And miss being with your family for Christmas?”
    “I’m not with my family, though, am I?”
    “I still intend to have you to Cheltham House tomorrow.”
    “Do you think the storm will clear?”
    “It had better.” He was determined to get her home, even if the storm still raged. He’d find a way. It was one thing he could do to make things right.
    He touched her cheek, bringing her focus back to him. “Amelia.”
    He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. She allowed the kiss for scant seconds, then pulled back, her gaze unfocused. He held her soft jaw cupped in his palm for a few moments, then he dropped his hand and drew away.
    “I’ll fetch us some dinner,” he told her. “I’ll be back in a bit. Will you be all right?”
    She looked around, then nodded. “I’ll wait.”
    “I won’t be more than a few minutes,” he promised her.
    He tucked in his shirt, then pulled on his waistcoat and tailcoat and left the room, closing the door gently behind him. With singular purpose, he hurried to the tavern. The place was noisy, filled with a boisterous crowd of half-drunk men who’d been cooped up inside all day due to the storm.
    He made his way to the counter, waved to get the barmaid’s attention, and ordered a tray of supper for him and Amelia.
    “I’ll fetch it right quick for you, sir,” the girl told him, and scampered off.
    He waited for her, keeping his head down and hoping he wouldn’t encounter anyone he knew, wanting to hurry back to Amelia as soon as he had their dinner.
    But staying incognito was hopeless. A few minutes later, someone clapped him on the back. “Cameron! I thought that was you! How are you, my boy?”
    Evan looked into the face of Thomas Berwicke, a man of middling years and a neighbor who resided with his large family in the house that stood between Amelia’s father’s and his own.
    “I’m well,” he said politely. “How are you, Mr. Berwicke?”
    Berwicke settled on the stool next to his. “What brings you here?”
    “Heading home for Christmas,” Evan said.
    “But you were caught out in the storm?”
    “Exactly.”
    “As was I, old chap, as was I.” Berwicke’s gaze sharpened. “Thought I saw you coming in earlier. You had a woman with you, didn’t you? Looked a bit like Lady Amelia.”
    “Did it?” Evan said, keeping his voice mild.
    “Aye, it certainly did.”
    Evan sighed inwardly. Berwicke was the biggest busybody in the county. He’d known Evan and Amelia since they were children. Why, of all people, did he have to be here?
    Berwicke leaned forward conspiratorially. “So…was it Lady Amelia?”
    Evan turned