Page 16 of Mine This Winter
Both men let her go without question.
She didn’t care if Simon broke her brother’s nose.
She didn’t care if they spent the rest of the night squabbling.
Even when shoving her feet into her kid boots and wrapping herself in her pelisse, she felt numb. She only realised she’d reached the garden when a snowflake landed on her nose.
The cool air nipped her cheeks, reminding her she was still alive despite feeling like a ghost of her former self. The real Gwendolyn Caldwell was trapped in time. Stuck in the woods on a picnic blanket, believing life was wonderful.
The mutter of voices dragged her from her reverie.
Determined not to listen to Oliver’s pathetic excuses, she hid behind the high topiary hedge out of view. Two people passed, heading from the coastal path in the dark. It looked like Mrs Astley and Mr Payne, though the pair had likely been frolicking in the shadows, not admiring the view.
They stopped and kissed, all slobbering noises and fake groans, before returning to the house.
Well! Of all the cheek!
And this was the man Oliver would have her marry?
Anger mingled with hurt. She would rather freeze to death than return to the house and play the obedient sister. There was a cave on the beach that didn’t flood during high tide. It would serve as shelter for the night while she battled her emotions.
Determined to prove a point, she raised the collar of her pelisse and thrust her hands into her muff. After quickly stopping at the orangery to collect the wool blanket from the chair, she followed the coastal path down to the beach.
Braving the icy wind, she hugged the blanket and crossed the snow-covered pebbles to stand alone on the sandy shore.
Like her temper, the sea raged, the crashing waves racing to escape the emptiness. Amid the dark desolation she spotted a few stars sparkling in the distant sky. It was the glimmer of hope she needed. A sign tomorrow might be a brighter day.
“Gwendolyn!”
Her name was but a whisper against the roaring tide. Pebbles crunched beneath booted feet, but she didn’t turn around. Only one man refused to shorten her given name.
“Gwendolyn!”
He was close now, but she stared at the swell of a wave as it hurtled towards the shore.
Simon wrapped his fingers around her arm and whirled her around to face him. “What the devil are you doing out here? You’ll catch your death. Good God! You might have been killed on that path.”
“Go back to the house, Mr Garrick.”
“Mr Garrick?” He searched her face, but she could barely look at him without feeling weepy. “You were happy to call me Simon when I touched you intimately.”
It had been a mad moment of unbridled passion.
A perfect moment she would relive forever.
“Go back to the house, Simon.”
“I’m not leaving without you.”
She closed her eyes against the words. Memories surfaced. If only he’d waited an hour before coming to Westmore. He would have learned how much she loved him, how people were conspiring to keep them apart. He might have made the same pledge and taken her with him to France.
“If it’s any consolation, your brother is nursing a bruised eye. If I didn’t have to consider your feelings or the fact I’m here on the King’s business, I would summon him to a dawn appointment.”
She opened her eyes, tears gathering anew. “He deserves to live the rest of his life with a guilty conscience. Nothing he can say or do can make this right.”
Simon brushed a lock of hair from his brow. “I’m sorry, Gwendolyn.” He turned to stare out at the volatile sea. “I’m sorry I let them convince me our love was a lie.”
She faced the sea, too. It was easier to speak when not dazzled by his eyes. “I’m sorry my family did this to you, to us. You thought it was me in the garden and are not to blame.”
