And that frightened her.
Could she truly risk letting Winston back into her heart, knowing what she did? He had kissed her and then treated her with cold disdain. Not that she planned to kiss him again. But heaven help her, she wanted to kiss him again. What was wrong with her? Her emotions were all over the place, and she couldn’t grasp what she wanted—or needed—when she was in Winston’s arms. His strong, comforting arms.
An overwhelming sense of panic washed over her. She couldn’t quite seem to catch her breath and she needed to stop this dance at once.
Mattie dropped her arms and stepped back.
Winston watched her with concern etched across his handsome face. “Are you all right, Mattie?”
The genuine concern in his voice was her undoing. She felt her face grow warm and brought her hands up to cover her reddening cheeks. “I am… tired.” Tired? Could she not have come up with a better excuse than that?
“Would you like to sit down?” Winston asked, his voice gentle.
“No, that won’t be necessary,” Mattie replied quickly. “I think it would be best if I returned home and rested.”
Winston took a step closer to her, and she instinctively took a step back. She watched as his face fell, and her heart ached because of it. But it was better this way. If she let him back in, her heart may never recover when he inevitably left.
Mattie dropped into a curtsy. “Thank you for the dance,” she said, her voice barely steady, before she departed from the room.
Once she was alone in the corridor, she let out a breath that she hadn’t even realized she had been holding. How was it that she could long for Winston, knowing it was a terrible idea?
“Mattie… wait, please,” Winston called out after her.
Mattie’s steps faltered and she turned back to see Winston striding towards her.
Winston came to a stop in front of her but maintained a proper distance. “Did I say or do something to upset you?” he asked, his eyes imploring.
“No, you did not, my lord,” she said, trying to maintain her composure. She couldn’t tell him the truth. Not now. Not ever. It would be too humiliating.
He lifted an eyebrow. “My lord?” he repeated with a hint of amusement. “No, I am Winston. Just Winston.”
Despite herself, she smiled at him. “My apologies,” she murmured.
Taking a step closer to her, Winston’s eyes remained locked on hers as he said, “I enjoyed our dance, and I look forward to dancing with you in Town.” He paused. “Assuming you will have time for me when you are surrounded by your suitors.”
“I will always make time for you, Winston,” Mattie said softly, her heart in her throat.
“And I you,” he replied, his voice equally soft and sincere.
Mattie held his gaze and she saw far more than she wanted to see. In his eyes, she saw herself—vulnerable, hopeful, and perhaps, just perhaps, capable of love once more.
Winston smiled, and all her defenses melted away. “It is a shame that you are tired because our gardens are quite beautiful.”
She knew she should leave, but she wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to Winston. As much as she wanted to push him away, her heart was trying to pull him back in. “I suppose we could take a short walk,” she responded.
“I would like that,” Winston said, offering his arm.
Mattie accepted his arm and they walked towards the rear of the manor. A footman opened the door for them and then discreetly followed them onto the veranda.
As they started walking down the path, Winstongestured towards the roses. “These are my mother’s beloved roses. I do believe she loves them more than she does her own children.”
She laughed. “I daresay you exaggerate. I have never seen a mother dote more on her children than Lady Dallington.”
“What can I say? We are easy to love,” Winston joked. He ran his finger along the stem of a rose. “I find it fascinating that something so beautiful as a rose grows on thorns.”
“It is a way to protect itself.”
“True, and that is where we are similar,” Winston said. “I have fought so hard to prove myself that I feel as if I have surrounded myself with thorns.”
