An Icy Christmas Engagement (Christmas Matches of Worth #1)

Chapter Four

A week had passed and Caroline hardly had anything to show for it. A week of sitting at her writing table every day trying to pen scene after scene and finishing each day more frustrated than the last. Her thoughts would not flow. The stilted and lifeless male protagonist seemed to only grow more and more uninterested every time she put him to paper.

No amount of reading, peaceful mornings with tea in the garden, or enjoyable evenings drinking wine with Louisa in the evenings was enough to help her writing inspiration. And she only had two more weeks left before she was meant to have the finished manuscript. And if that wasn’t stressful enough, she needed guidance from Mr. Holloway.

It was how he operated after all. His hands-on approach to publishing was both a blessing and a curse. Blessing, since it helped her to create a polished, well-crafted body of work. And a curse when she’d barely written a thing since the last time they’d seen each other and could feel the pressure of the deadline bearing down on her with every second.

“Oh, good God,” Caroline murmured, stopping in her tracks. She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling the makings of a megrim growing in the back of her head. It always happened when she felt distressed.

And it snowed last night. Coming out from under five layers of blankets to the heavy cold in the air had already been a horrible start to her morning. She didn’t want to deal with a headache on top of it. Despite her fears and the megrim she set off for her meeting.

Perhaps she would not have been dreading this meeting as much if she’d actually been able to flesh out her male protagonist, but she was feeling terribly uninspired in that regard. She couldn’t even imagine him.

He had to be tall, of course. Every lady liked the feeling of safety when standing next to a tall and strapping gentleman with broad shoulders. “Much like the gentleman across the street”, she thought while she was walking.

Caroline continued along the path at a much slower pace, her eyes remaining on the gentleman bundled up in a heavy black coat on the other side of the busy street. He walked with little purpose, as if he was going for a stroll, but there was a deep scowl on his face. Whatever he was pondering, it was serious.

She clutched her leather portfolio containing the pitiful start to her novel closer to her chest, matching the gentleman’s pace. She couldn’t see his face very well. Too many carriages passing by blurred her vision and the distance certainly didn’t help.

But she could imagine that well enough. A man like him could only be handsome. Not to mention he walked with an authority that set him apart from everyone else on the busy street. Caroline spied tendrils of dark hair curling at the nape of his neck but most of his hair was hidden under his top hat. Despite the distance, she could tell that he was not dressed like a commoner. Which meant he had to be a nobleman.

He was perfect. If only she could see his face so that she could describe his likeness—

Her mysterious stranger turned suddenly, looking both ways even as he began crossing the street. Caroline’s heart skipped a beat. Maybe she would get the chance to see him after all.

She picked up the pace, desperate to catch up to him. He arrived on her side of the street a few feet ahead of her, which meant she was destined to stare into his broad back once again.

With determination smoldering in her veins, she briskly made her way to the side, hoping to casually glimpse up at him and then continue along her way. All she needed was one good look to create her perfect male protagonist.

She was almost there, nearly by his side—

Her left foot went out from under her. It happened so quickly that Caroline could hardly do anything but let out a short scream of alarm as the world tilted around her. For a moment of complete and utter panic, she knew that what was about to happen next was going to hurt terribly.

She expected to go crashing to the icy ground, sprawled out in the street with her skirts all around her, her portfolio flying from her hand. Instead, she landed in a pair of strong arms, the smell of cedarwood and cinnamon wrapping around her. The chill nipping at her heels vanished as warmth seeped from the body looming over her. She felt a breath against her cheek and realized only a second later than she had her eyes closed.

“Are you all right?”

Most definitely a nobleman, she thought at first, with a voice as warm as whiskey. Caroline opened her eyes and found herself captured in a trance by the most intense pair of blue eyes she’d ever seen. Slowly, she ran her gaze from his eyes to his sharp, aquiline nose to the full lips set in a wide line. His jaw was strong and sharp, covered in the barest shadow. She could easily imagine how handsome he would be with a full beard and without one , a win no matter what way she looked at it.

Wait…

Icy blue eyes, handsome features, broad-shoulders, and a cold demeanor? Was this the Ice Earl no one could resist talking about?

When she’d returned to London after Harold’s death, it was in the midst of the London Season. Every ambitious mother and their unmarried daughters were talking about snagging the handsome and wealthy Earl of Colenhurst. Apparently, he did not frequent many events and had never given any indication that he wished to be married. But that did not stop them from trying. But he was cold and unwelcoming to anyone who dared approach. Caroline could understand why. Just looking at him made her feel a tad apprehensive, as if she should take care never to get on his wrong side.

His thick, dark brows dipped into a frown. “I asked, are you all right?”

Suddenly, she realized what had happened. First she felt shame, the feeling washing over her like warm, tepid water. Then a sharp pain shot through her ankle, bringing a groan to her lips.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he murmured, straightening and releasing her slowly.

Caroline didn’t dare rest her pained ankle on the ground. She looked around, realizing that her portfolio was no longer in her hand .

“Right here,” the Earl of Colenhurst said, lifting it for her to see. It remained unmarred from the snow, which meant he must have caught it the same time he caught her.

A handsome and chivalrous gentleman, she mused. Certainly a prime example of what a male protagonist in a romance novel should be.

Somehow, that scowl of his grew deeper. “Are you so stunned by your slip that you no longer have the ability to speak?”

She frowned. A little crass in his tongue but that was fine. It gave depth to his character to have him a little rough around the edges.

“I can speak quite fine, thank you very much,” she stated primly. “I was only thinking of how best to respond.”

“A ‘I’m quite well, thank you for your kind inquiry,” he grunted.

Perhaps he was a little more than crass. Rude was a bit more like it.

“Your assistance was greatly appreciated,” she told him. “And I thank you for saving my documents.” She held out her hand and was grateful for how easily he returned it to her. “Now, if you will excuse me, I shall be on my way.”

She’d seen enough. She’d committed enough of his ravishing good looks to memory and this incident was already embedded in her mind. Certainly she would have more than enough inspiration to draw from when she sat down to write later.

Caroline stepped into the street, intending to go around him. His arm shot back out with a curse on his breath and he pulled her against his chest.

A carriage flew by, so close to her that the wind it produced nearly whipped her hair out of its hold. She would have been offended by the angry curse the carriage rider shouted at her as it flew by, or perhaps embarrassed that she’d almost gotten herself run over, but she could hardly think at all. Not when the only thing she was capable of focusing on was the fact that she was pressed against this stranger’s hard, broad chest and that her heart seemed to be racing at a hundred miles per hour.

“At this point, I can only assume you are trying to kill yourself,” the earl murmured. They were still close, far too close considering they were out in public. But neither one of them made any attempt to move.

“I would never,” she murmured in return, her voice a breathy whisper. “I have far too much to live for.”

“Then perhaps it would be best if you watched where you were going and kept to the safe side of the street, yes?”

She nodded wordlessly as he released her. There was no arguing with that.

Heat flooded her cheeks. Caroline didn’t bother determining if it was due to her shame or something else.

The Ice Earl took a step back, taking off his top hat to scratch the back of his head. If Caroline didn’t know better, she would think he was feeling a little sheepish. But that wasn’t an emotion her male protagonist was accustomed to feeling, was it? Was that a feeling the Ice Earl was capable of having?

“Perhaps I should walk with you to your destination,” he said. “Just to make sure you get there safely.”

She raised her brows in surprise. “Do you think I'm so clumsy that I cannot manage such a feat myself?”

This time he was the one to raise his brows.

“Never mind,” she said quickly. “I appreciate it, but I do not want to trouble you.”

“It is no trouble at all. I had no destination in particular, you see, so I have nowhere to be.”

That only deepened her surprise. “Truly?”

He tilted his head to the side as he asked, “Is that so hard to believe?”

Caroline took a moment to consider her next words. He was a stranger, after all, and she’d learned at a young age that many people of the ton did not take kindly to her natural candidness. Despite that inclination, she felt tempted to say, “You do not strike me as the type of man to stroll idly about.”

“And you do not strike me as the type of lady to slip twice in the span of a few minutes.”

“I did not slip twice,” she corrected. “I slipped once and negligently stepped out into the street on the second occasion.”

“My apologies,” he caved easily. “Each instance would have left you sprawled out on the ground, injured and in pain. ”

She decided not to mention the fact that her ankle was still throbbing, though markedly less than it had been at first.

“But if you do not wish for my assistance, miss, I shan’t force it,” he continued. “I only ask one thing of you.”

“What is that?”

“Please don’t lose your footing again until I am well out of sight.”

Caroline didn’t know whether to laugh or scowl. So she simply stared blankly at him, which left him staring back at her.

“It was meant as a jest,” he told her.

Still, she stared at him, not allowing the tickle of amusement make her lips curl. The Ice Earl was making a joke? Surely the rumors could not be true then? She’d never heard of a cold and unfeeling person having a penchant for teasing.

Before she could think of a response, a carriage rolled up beside them. Caroline would have stepped away and ignored it if the curtain hadn’t been pulled aside, a man popping his head through the window.

“Ah, Cedric, what a pleasure.”

The air turned chilly. Caroline blinked, watching with rapt fascination as the teasing earl transformed before her very eyes, bringing forth the man from the tales. He somehow appeared taller, as if he’d pulled himself to his full height. His chin lifted slightly, eyes narrowing and turning to blocks of ice. He put his hands behind his back and she was filled with the insane urge to look to see if they were curled into fists.

“Simon.”

Caroline shuddered. She took a tiny step back, looking furtively at the man in the carriage.

The man was smiling. A broad, happy-to-see you smile as if he wasn’t staring into the face of danger. Was he insane?

He was certainly handsome, that smile of his tilted in a manner that gave him a boyish charm. He raked his hand through sandy curls, leaning halfway out of the carriage window, his green eyes glittering. Next to him, Caroline spotted a lady but couldn’t see her very well from the angle from which she stood.

“Fancy seeing you here, old friend,” Simon said jubilantly. “Were you going for an afternoon stroll in this weather? Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always enjoyed wintertime.”

“Were you not going for a carriage ride with your beloved wife?” Lord Colenhurst asked, his low baritone sending shivers down Caroline’s spine. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

The lady leaned forward. Caroline resisted the urge to suck in a breath.

She was utterly gorgeous. With eyes the color of warm brandy, a heart-shaped and blemish-free face, she would have made a younger, more insecure Caroline long to be like her. In fact, they were complete opposites. Caroline had once longed to have such gorgeous honey-blond hair that cascaded down her back but she’d learned to love her chestnut brown hair, which she usually kept twisted in a chignon. Caroline’s nose was adorned with brown freckles that she’d hated for half her life, and her eye were neither brown nor green, but a confusing mixture of both. Caroline was willing to bet this beautiful lady was wonderfully petite as well, while Caroline was a little more on the taller side.

Though, standing next to Lord Colenhurst, she didn’t feel quite so large. Her late husband had been only a few inches taller than her. The earl stood nearly a complete head above her.

“It is lovely to see you too, Cedric,” the lady purred. Her eyes slid to Caroline with a mixture of curiosity and…was that dislike? “Who is your companion?”

“She is none of your concern, Isabella,” Lord Colenhurst responded dismissively.

Isabella raised her chin, eyes sliding back to Lord Colenhurst. “I did not know you’d begun courting. Are you looking for a wife?”

“She has become quite inquisitive, Simon,” Lord Colenhurst drawled. “Is it your influence?”

“Certainly not, my friend,” Simon chuckled. “You know, Isabella is far too headstrong to take after my mannerisms.”

Isabella clearly didn’t take kindly to their comments because she rolled her eyes and sat back. But Caroline saw when her eyes fell back on her, narrowing to slits.

She should leave. This clearly wasn’t a situation she should be witnessing. Whatever history these three had between them had nothing to do with her, but indeed, she was curious. She soaked up every bit of tension and tight politeness as inspiration for her novel.

“You should be on your way, Simon,” Lord Colenhurst said. “I neither have the time nor the ability to stand here and talk with you.”

“Ah, I forgot how busy you’ve always been, Cedric,” Simon said with a nod. “Back to work then?”

Lord Colenhurst’s response to that was only stony silence. Simon chuckled.

“It was good seeing you, Cedric. We should get together, like old times.”

“That will not be happening.”

He laughed again. At this point, Caroline was convinced he enjoyed being in danger. “We shall see.”

With that, there was a knock from within and then the carriage pulled off. Caroline didn’t take her eyes off the earl as he watched it rumble away. The tension seeped away, leaving an uncomfortable silence in its stead. She wanted to break the quiet, but what could she say?

Lord Colenhurst cleared his throat and suddenly turned to face her. Caroline straightened.

“If you would excuse me,” he mumbled and didn’t give her a chance to respond before he turned and walked away, his long legs quickly putting distance between them.

Caroline could only stare after him. Now there was no denying why he had been dubbed the Ice Earl, especially after that interaction. But, as he went out of sight, her mind could not let go of the man who had scolded her for being clumsy then jested about it right after. She couldn’t believe that all three men were one and the same.