The Earl's Snow-Kissed Proposal

* * *

Gabe tried to force misplaced panic down. ‘What’s going on, Etta? I thought your plan was to leave tomorrow.’

Think, Gabe.

But for once his brain refused to cooperate. Strands of thought whirled and swirled and he couldn’t correlate them, couldn’t formulate a strategy.

Part of his mind was still trying to assimilate the extent of what Etta had faced in her life. To learn that she had been abandoned by her birth parents at the same time as learning she was adopted and then being rejected by her adopted parents... Little wonder she’d rebelled in a bid to win her parents’ attention. But the consequence had been a plunge into an abusive relationship and a teen pregnancy.

Admiration seethed inside him as he looked at her, standing amidst the imperial grandeur. Yet for once he couldn’t read her emotion—her expressive face was in shut-down, though she still rubbed her hands up and down her arms.

‘It was, but I’ve changed the plan. I need to get to Cathy. Christmas is over and I need to be with my daughter. I need to talk to Steph and work out our next step. I need to get back to my real life. This week has been magical, and I’ll never forget it, but it wasn’t real. It was a fling—an interlude.’

Her lips turned up in a smile that didn’t get anywhere near her eyes.

‘Fun, with no strings attached, and now I need to move on.’

Strange how his own words seemed so hollow now. Panic rocked him back on his heels as he realised that he didn’t want her to leave. Insane. What did he want? Another day? Another week? What difference would that make? He didn’t know, but he knew he couldn’t let her leave yet, had to make sure she was safe.

‘We both need to move on,’ he managed, the words redolent with strain. He forced his vocal cords into submission. ‘But we need to make sure we do this right. We’ll fly back to London together and go to a hotel. Then we can smuggle you out.’

‘I may go and stay in Cornwall at the Cavershams’ Castle Hotel. I can hole up there and—’

‘Ethan could collect Cathy from the cruise ship and bring her to you.’

Ethan would protect Etta and Cathy, and that was the most important issue at stake.

‘I can work out our next move from there. I’ll start packing.’

There it was again—that near desperate urge to stop her, to take her into his arms and tell her he would keep her safe from Tommy, hold her close. But along with that came the surge of panic, the memory that closeness led to weakness, made you vulnerable to pain and loss and fear. If you let people close, you opened the door to pain. He’d nearly slipped up with Etta. Somehow she’d slipped under his guard and under his skin and he needed to get her out.

The best way to do that was to shut down all emotion.

This had to end now.

Yet he could sense the bleakness seeping in under his armour, trying to touch his soul.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Two weeks later

GABE LOOKED ROUND the lounge at Derwent Manor and wished he could shake the memories of Etta—it was absurd to wonder if he could smell a hint of vanilla in the air.

His parents glared at him across the room.

‘What is going on, Gabriel?’ His father’s tone was testy, at best. ‘You should be out there securing Lady Isobel Petersen.’

‘Your father is right.’ The Duchess’s tone was glacial. ‘Plus you shouldn’t have asked Kaitlin to come. And, Kaitlin, you shouldn’t have come—what will Prince Frederick think? It’s his mother’s birthday banquet and...’

For a moment Kaitlin looked as though she might respond with an unheard-of suggestion as to what Prince Frederick could do with the banquet, but instead she smiled her trademark smile.

‘I’m sorry, Mother, but Frederick understands that my brother has to come first. I know Gabe wouldn’t have asked us all here on a whim.’

Baulked, the Duchess turned to easier prey. ‘As for summoning Cora...’ Her green eyes stared down the table at the younger of her twins with disdain.

Cora grinned back cheerfully, clearly unfazed, and Gabe blinked. Marriage had morphed his diffident sister into a confident young woman, no longer cowed by her parents. Marriage or love? a small voice asked him as he recalled Etta’s insistence that it was the latter.

‘Don’t worry, Mother. Rafael and I aren’t staying here—we’ve booked into a hotel nearby so you won’t need to see him.’