The Earl's Snow-Kissed Proposal

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid.’

‘Who’s stupid?’

Etta started and looked up to see Gabe standing between the open mirrored doors that separated the living room and the bedroom. Instant reaction shook her.

Get it together.

No matter what happened, Gabe must not suspect she’d fallen for him—stupid didn’t even touch the sides of her folly.

Say something. Anything.

‘Cathy. That was Cathy. She still wants to see Tommy. Which is pretty stupid. But really I meant myself. I haven’t exactly come up with a plan.’

Slow down, Etta.

She sounded deranged—like Daffy Duck on helium.

‘Let her see him. Once.’

‘We’ve been through this. I will not take that risk.’

‘She loves you, Etta. Her loyalty is with you. Give her a chance to prove that. She’ll see through Tommy.’

‘You don’t know what it’s like to want a dad—to fantasise about the perfect man who will turn up and look after you. I do know.’

Somehow it seemed important that before she left, Gabe should know everything. She wanted him to understand, not to judge her and find her wanting. It shouldn’t matter to her, but it did.

‘I was a doorstep baby. My birth parents left me on the doorstep of a church in Henrietta Street. That’s where my name came from. The authorities tried to trace my parents but they never came forward. I’ve tried to trace them too, but I haven’t managed it. I have fantasised about their identity for years, and if someone turned up claiming to be my dad I’d believe whatever he said, whoever he was. Cathy will be the same.’

There was silence as he absorbed her words. Then he stepped forward and tugged her into a hug, and for a treacherous second she rested her head on the breadth of his chest and drew solace from his strength.

‘That’s tough. You must have so many questions.’

Stepping back, she knew with crystal-clear certainty that it was the last time he would hold her, and she could feel the crack appear in her heart. The pain made her catch her breath.

‘I do. But I accept now that they won’t ever be answered. My parents—my adoptive ones, I mean—assumed the worst. That my birth parents were drug addicts who simply didn’t care about me. I think that’s why they had trouble bonding with me. They were desperate for a child, and they convinced themselves and the social workers that it would all work out, but it didn’t. They tried to pretend I was their child, but the whole time they were watching me, waiting for my blood to out itself. They tried to love me, but when Rosa came along they had an instant bond—they loved her without effort. I guess that didn’t happen with my birth parents and me.’

Sadness touched her—what had been so wrong with her that they hadn’t left her any clue as to her identity?

‘You don’t know that. They may have left you because there was no alternative.’

‘Maybe. The point is, whether that’s true or not, if they had turned up when I was a teenager and claimed to be saints I would have believed them—no questions asked. Cathy will be the same about Tommy.’

‘No. Because Cathy has you. You had no one—you have always had to face things alone. Your adoptive parents weren’t there for you when you needed them most. Hel

l. They weren’t there for you at all. Little wonder you dreamt about your birth parents being perfect. Cathy won’t do that. Trust yourself, Etta.’

His voice was deep with sincerity, but how could she trust herself when she’d blithely fallen in love with Gabe? A man who wanted a suitable aristocratic wife or a playboy lifestyle...a man who eschewed love and closeness.

She got why—Gabe had been packed off to boarding school, abandoned to the bullies, and expected to work it out for himself. He’d been brought up without love and believed that to show love was to show weakness. And Gabe wasn’t a weak man. He was a man bound by duty and choice to follow a certain path in life. A path he couldn’t share with Etta even if she wanted that. And she didn’t—wouldn’t risk what love did to her. How it messed with her head. She was safer, happier alone.

Yet misery weighted her very soul at the idea that she would never see him again. Never touch him, laugh with him, or wake up cocooned in his arms. If she didn’t leave now she’d cave, throw herself at him, and in the process lose all self-respect.

What was wrong with her? Her relationship with Cathy was forged in bonds of steel and love—how could she have let herself be distracted from that? For a man who didn’t want her? Her lungs constricted and a band of grief tightened her chest. She had to get out of here.

‘I need to go. Thank you for everything.’

Gabe’s forehead was etched with a deep frown. ‘Whoa. Not so fast.’