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He hadn’t expected her to say yes, not after so many years of telling him no at every possible opportunity. But maybe she’d seen something desperate in his eyes that evening. Seen that he’d needed her. Or perhaps she’d had her own reasons—if so, she’d never told him what they were.
They’d stolen a bottle of the earl’s finest gin from his healthy drinks cupboard, and drunk most of it while talking about nothing at all. But underneath the inconsequential, and in between them, every now and then there had been glimpses, moments when her armour had slipped. Seconds when he’d been able to see that she was hurting too, even if she’d never tell him why.
Then the alcohol had taken over completely, and soon they’d been giggling their way back to her cottage, pausing only to kiss against the trees that lined the path.
And then when he’d woken up the next morning she was already gone.
Did she ever think about the night they’d spent together? She’d certainly never mentioned it again. Not that she’d had much chance. She’d crept out of her own cottage before he was even awake, and avoided him for the next day. He’d confronted his father about the will the moment he’d returned, and his world had imploded. He hadn’t been thinking about anything beyond the lies he’d been told his whole life when he’d decided to leave Flaxstone, and in the end he’d left in such a whirlwind he hadn’t even seen Tori again. He’d barely said goodbye to his own mother, but that was partly because he couldn’t bear to lie to her about Felix, but couldn’t hurt her either. She couldn’t have known what sort of a man she’d married, he was sure. And if she had…then she’d been lying to him too.
He couldn’t face that possibility right then. So he’d run as far and as fast as he could, until the pain had started to recede.
Since he’d returned to Flaxstone, Tori had barely acknowledged his existence, until today, when she couldn’t possibly avoid it.
Jasper’s gaze darted to the left again to take in her profile, pensive as she stared out at the snow. Then he focussed back on the road again.
One night. Just a few hours. That was the only time he’d ever seen behind the mask. And even now, so many years later, he couldn’t help but wish he could see it again. The real Tori Edwards.
Because that flash of the real woman behind the defences had been more potent than the weeks, months or even years he’d spent getting to know anyone else.
Of course, maybe that was just because he’d spent his time getting to know the wrong women—or not properly getting to know far too many of them. But after his teenage experiences of love, that was enough for him. He still winced at the memory of Juliet Hawkes, the object of obsession for his teenage heart that could have ruined romance for him for life.
Still might, actually, coupled with the rubbish example his father had set him.
And now he was back to thinking about his father again. Perfect.
‘The snow’s getting heavier,’ Tori said, suddenly sitting up straighter beside him.
Jasper blinked, and let his eyes see the falling snow, rather than blocking it out to concentrate on the road.
It really was getting heavier. A lot heavier.
He’d only picked this road because it was the first thing he’d said all day that had got a real reaction out of her, and that curious, need-to-know nature of his had made him push it forward, to see where it went, in case it led him to a better understanding of Tori Edwards.
Now, looking out at the snow, he was starting to wonder if that was the best choice.
Then he saw the tail lights of the stationary cars ahead, and the blue lights flashing beyond them, and knew that it really, really wasn’t.
Tori insisted on being the one to go and find out what was happening.
This was her land, her place, even if Jasper didn’t know it. Despite the swirling snow she knew exactly where she was. Recognised the rises, the scars in the land disappearing under that blanket of white. She knew that tree, dead and black her whole life, but now covered in the blossom of snowflakes. She recognised that uneven stone wall, bracketing the road on one side, meandering along in nothing like a straight line.
She knew where that wall led. Knew the land it marked out. If she squinted, she could almost see the building it belonged to, rising out of the snow a little way further along the road.
The Moorside Inn.
Or, home, as she’d always known it.
Tori shivered, looking pointedly away from where she knew the inn sat, and focussing instead on the treacherous and slippery path ahead of her. It was hard by now to see where the road ended and the grass verge began, and the ground seemed to shift and move under her feet as she stepped from one to the other.
Maybe she should have let Jasper investigate instead. But more than anything she’d needed to get out of that car, breathe fresh air, and step away from his curious gaze.
Did he even remember that they’d once slept together? She wasn’t sure. He certainly hadn’t mentioned it since his return, and there had been a significant amount of alcohol involved that night.
She’d never understood what had made that night so different for them both. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She knew why she’d felt different that night. An unfortunate clash of an anniversary she’d been trying to forget and too many reminders that wouldn’t let her. When he’d looked at her with that lost look, one she’d never thought to see on his confident and assured face, for a moment he’d reminded her of Tyler.
Later though, after much alcohol, as he’d leaned in to kiss her for the first time, she hadn’t been thinking about Tyler at all. Only Jasper. Something else to feel guilty about.
Anyway. Whether he remembered or not, it was better for all concerned that they pretend it never happened, so she definitely wasn’t going to bring it up.
But that didn’t stop her wondering.
Not right now, though. Right now she had to figure out what the hell was going on with this road and get off the moors before Aunt Liz or Uncle Henry came out to see what was happening on the road outside the inn.
With hindsight, she really, really should have stayed in the car. And apparently she wasn’t the only one who thought so.
‘If you’d get back in your car, please, miss.’
A uniformed police officer approached, looking cold and very fed up. She couldn’t blame him, to be honest. She felt much the same and she’d only been out in the snow for a few minutes. ‘Someone will be coming along to speak to all drivers in turn.’
‘What’s happened?’ she called out anyway, her voice fighting against the wind and snow.
‘The road ahead is blocked,’ the policeman responded. ‘But please, wait in your car and someone will tell you what to do next.’
I know what to do next, Tori thought as she trudged back towards Jasper and the waiting car. Get the hell out of here.
They could turn around. Head back to the main road and take the other route. Yes, it might take for ever, but at least they’d get home tonight. And she’d be far, far away from the Moorside Inn. As long as they got moving now, this didn’t have to be a disaster.
But as she reached the four-by-four, she could already see Jasper leaning against the car, his shoulders and hair coated with snow, talking to another police officer.
‘Ah, the wanderer returns!’ he said as she approached, sounding far too jolly for the circumstances.
‘What’s happening?’ Tori shoved her hands deep into her pockets and wished her smart leather gloves were fleece-lined and warm, rather than just looking good.
‘Road ahead is closed. Too much snow and ice building up, and there’s a risk of rock slides in the valley from the weight of the snow.’
Tori winced. She knew that valley, almost too well. The road grew narrower as it twisted between the low hills, the sharp edges of the rock rising steeply on either side. Too much fallen snow could send rocks and stones battering down.
That valley was where Tyler had died, on a warm spring night totally unlike this one.
‘We’ll go back, then,’ she said, shaking away the memories. ‘Head back to the main road. We should have taken that route in the first place.’ She shot a glare at Jasper to remind him whose fault this all was.
‘Probably,’ the policeman agreed, glumly. ‘But it’s too late now. There was an accident about half a mile back, probably not long after you passed through. No serious injuries, but the road is closed that way too while it’s cleared—in fact, they’ve closed off this whole section from the main road until it comes out the other side of the moors. Too dangerous in this weather.’
Tori swallowed down the panic rising sharply through her throat. She couldn’t afford to lose it—not here, not now, and definitely not with Jasper watching.
‘Then how are we supposed to get out of here?’ she asked, forcing her voice to remain even.
‘Good news on that front, at least,’ Jasper said, grinning even as he blinked away snowflakes from his eyelashes. Those golden-brown eyes of his shone in the light from the headlights and the policeman’s torch. ‘Apparently there’s an inn nearby that’s offered to put up all the travellers caught up in this mess. See, I told you I’d take you to a nice secluded pub for dinner!’
He was so busy congratulating himself, telling the police officer how he was a man of his word, and always looked for the silver linings, that he probably didn’t even notice Tori’s heart sink down out of her feet and bleed into the snow. Or maybe that was just how it felt.
All she knew was that she was trapped. That the past she’d been running from for so long had caught her at last.
And it had brought Jasper, Viscount Darlton, along as well, just for the fun of it.
‘Hell,’ she muttered into the night. ‘I’m in actual hell.’
‘I think that would be hotter, miss,’ the policeman said, with a confused frown. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me.’ He disappeared into the night to talk to the next car in the line.
‘Shall we?’ Jasper asked, crooking his elbow for her to hold. ‘I believe it’s this way.’
Tori tucked her hands under her arms and stepped forward without him. ‘I know the way.’
If she had to face her past, she’d at least do it head-on. She owed Tyler that much.
I’m coming home, Aunt Liz.
This whole day kept getting more and more interesting.
Okay, so getting stranded in the snow on the moors wasn’t exactly in Jasper’s original plan for the day, but it wasn’t quite the disaster Tori’s face suggested it was, either. They had a nice, cosy inn to shelter in and wait out the storm, and it wasn’t as if either of them had been caught in a rock slide or car accident.
So why did Tori look as if she would almost rather they had?
‘Looks like we’ll get that dinner at a secluded inn after all,’ he joked again as they trudged their way across a snow-covered field, towards the lights in the distance. Maybe she’d missed it the first time around.
Tori didn’t answer.
‘Maybe there’ll be steak and ale pie on the menu. I love steak and ale pie.’
Still nothing.
‘And I could murder a pint of something dark and hoppy. Since it looks like we won’t be driving anywhere tonight.’
She flinched at that, although he had no idea why.
Jasper sighed. This was going to be a very long night if Tori refused to talk to him altogether.
Maybe it was time to bring out the big guns. Apologising.
‘Look, I’m sorry I brought us along the moors road. You were right, it was too dangerous in the snow, and we should have kept to the main roads. Where we’d probably still be stuck in an epic traffic jam, arguing over which radio station to listen to, instead of heading towards what looks like a really nice inn and hopefully some steak and ale pie. But sorry, anyway.’
He could just about make out the inn through the snow. The sloping roof, the thick stone walls, and the warm yellow lights glowing out into the darkening sky. There was even a giant Christmas tree out front, strung with old-fashioned coloured lantern lights, the sort he remembered from his childhood.
It definitely looked like the sort of place that served steak and ale pie. And now he’d apologised, Tori would stop ignoring him and they could enjoy a nice evening together.
He turned to her, smiling—until he saw the sceptical glare on her face.
‘You honestly think that was a good apology, don’t you?’ she asked.
Jasper blinked away snowflakes, confused. ‘I mean, I said I’m sorry. So…yes?’
‘You said you were wrong and should have listened to me—and then told me why actually I was wrong and you’d made the right decision even now we’re stuck in the snow on the middle of the moors walking towards—’ She broke off suddenly, her gaze jerking away.
‘A…perfectly nice-looking inn?’ Jasper finished for her, more baffled than ever.
Tori sighed, hard enough that he saw her shoulders rise and fall even in her thick, woollen coat. ‘The Moorside Inn serves the best steak and ale pie in Yorkshire. Possibly the world. Henry, the cook, he won’t share the recipe with anyone. You’re going to love it.’
‘Great,’ Jasper replied. But he couldn’t find the enthusiasm for it that his hungry stomach had exhibited just moments earlier.
There was something about her voice. The slow, resigned monotone.
‘So, you know this place?’ Knew it well, he’d guess, given her words. And her reluctance to re-enter it.
Before he’d left Flaxstone, five years earlier, he’d believed he might actually be getting to know Tori Edwards at last. To see the real girl under the mask she put up for his father and everyone else.
Now, staring at her in the snow, outside a Yorkshire inn, he admitted to himself that he didn’t know her at all.
He didn’t know where she’d come from, or why. He didn’t know what had driven her away from her home the way he’d been driven away from his.
But he had a feeling that this might be the night he finally found out.
Tori didn’t answer his question, but then she didn’t need to. They were almost there, now, the windows of the inn changing from blurs of light in the distance into a clear vision of the cosy, wooden-beamed rooms inside.
And as they approached the heavy, wooden front door, it flew open, revealing an older woman in a Mrs Christmas apron, her bright red curls pinned back from her face, and a wide smile on her lips.
‘Welcome, weary travellers, to the Moorside Inn! I hope we can make your impromptu stop a little more comfor…’ Her words faltered mid-sentence, and so did her smile. She peered out into the snow, her gaze fixed on Tori’s blank expression. ‘Vicky?’
Tori sighed again, but at least managed a small smile this time. ‘Hello, Aunt Liz.’
Jasper looked between the two women. Yes, he was definitely going to find out more about Tori Edwards tonight. But the realisation only showed him just how very little he’d known about her to start with.
Maybe it was time to fix that.
CHAPTER THREE (#uceda260b-55b8-5c02-b994-7eccd6783552)
THE MOORSIDE WAS just as she remembered it.
As Tori pulled away from the tentative, uncertain hug her aunt gave her, she took in the inn beyond. Same wooden beams. Same gleaming pumps, polished by Uncle Henry every night after he’d finished in the kitchen, ready to serve local ales to visitors. Same battered, rustic oak tables and mismatched chairs. Tyler’s paintings still on the walls. Same feeling of shame, guilt and of being a disappointment as she stood there.
‘We got snowed in on the road, about quarter of a mile away,’ Jasper said, looking with far too much interest between her and Aunt Liz. Tori curled in on herself, as much as she could when wearing so many layers. This place was her past, another life almost. She didn’t want to share it with anyone from her new life.
Especially not Jasper.
‘Of course, you must be freezing! Come on in.’ Aunt Liz ushered them both inside as if they were normal paying customers.
Jasper took the opportunity to raise his eyebrows at her and mouth, ‘Vicky?’ She ignored him. She supposed it was too much to hope for that he’d missed that use of her old, other nickname.
She was Tori now. That was all that mattered.
