Snowbound With The Heir

It hadn’t escaped his notice that the one time he’d succeeded was the night he’d felt more wounded and open than ever before.

Maybe it was all the thinking he’d been doing about his father, or maybe it was the snow and the enclosed space, but suddenly Jasper wanted to see if he could break through those battlements again—even if only for a moment.

‘Given the snow, I’d suggest sticking to the main roads,’ Tori said, her voice even, uninterested. At least, if a person weren’t listening carefully.

Jasper was listening very carefully. Which was why he caught the faint tremor underneath her words. She cared, one way or another, and suddenly he wanted to find out which.

He needed a new challenge—a distraction from his disintegrating family. Persuading Tori Edwards to open up a little could be the perfect entertainment for a snowy afternoon.

He smiled, and began his campaign.

‘The snow isn’t that heavy,’ Jasper pointed out, his lazy voice easy with lack of caring. ‘And the main roads will be packed with drivers avoiding the more interesting routes. We could cut across the moors and make it home before the real weather rolls in.’

Tori glanced out of the car window. The clouds above definitely suggested that there was a lot more snow to come.

‘The weather can be different on the moors.’ She bit down on her lower lip to dispel the memories. ‘The snow might have already hit there.’

‘Or it might miss it entirely.’

That didn’t sound likely. But he was irritatingly right about how busy the main roads would be in this weather. If they could make it across the lesser-used moor roads it would be quicker—unless the snow was heavier, or too many other people had the same idea, or there was a rogue tractor or sheep blocking the road…

They were idling now at the crossroads, the junction where Jasper had to choose which path to follow. Any minute now another car would come up behind them and start beeping its horn—not that Jasper seemed bothered about holding other people up. She wasn’t sure he’d ever realised that it was human to worry about anyone else’s feelings.

Normal, empathetic people didn’t leave the country for five years after sleeping with a person, and then never mention it again.

‘Don’t you ever take a risk?’ he asked, that wicked grin she remembered too well on his lips.

That grin had got her into trouble before. Well, that grin and half a bottle of gin—stolen from the earl’s drinks cabinet, of course—and a bad day that had lowered her defences, if she remembered correctly.

‘Unnecessary risk is the height of foolishness.’

Of course she took risks. That was a normal part of doing business. But personal risk? That was another matter. She’d taken enough of those in the past to know what happened when the risk didn’t pay off. Okay, she’d taken precisely one. But that had been more than enough to teach her a lesson.

Her single night with Jasper had just been an extra reminder. She’d known better than to get involved, however fleetingly, with someone for whom romance was basically a sport. But she’d put her fears aside and let herself believe that there might be more to him, that he might think more of her, only for him to prove quite comprehensively that she was as unimportant to him as she’d always imagined.

She didn’t need reminding again.

‘This risk is necessary,’ Jasper announced. ‘I’m starving, and I want to get home for dinner.’

‘Your stomach is not an emergency.’

‘Maybe not to you.’ Jasper pulled on the handbrake and leant closer, looking into her eyes. ‘Are you worried about the snow? Because if it’s bad we’ll turn back. Or find that secluded inn I mentioned and have some dinner while we wait it out…’

Tori tore her gaze away from his. She wasn’t even going to imagine what he was imagining could happen between them if they did that. Jasper’s determined campaign of flirtation had always been distracting, however much she knew better than to let herself fall for it. ‘Not happening. Fine. Just get us home in one piece, okay?’

‘Your wish is my command, milady.’ Humming a few lines from a Christmas carol, Jasper took off again—heading, of course, for the road that traversed the Yorkshire moors.

Tori hunkered down in her seat. It wasn’t the snow she was scared of—not that she planned to let Jasper know that.

She knew those moors. They were her home, her playground, her life, growing up. But she’d avoided so much as driving through them for nearly eight years now. She’d made her whole life away from them—not too far away, but far enough. This was the first time the earl had sent her to look at property practically on them.

And she knew the road that Jasper would take. Knew the tiny villages and hamlets it would wend and wind through, the landmarks and features it would pass. The inn that would be sitting not far from the side of the road that they would speed past without comment, without recognising the part it had played in Tori’s life. The valley they’d pass through, without any sign of the car that had crashed into the rocks there, and torn her future apart.

The car crash that had killed Tyler, the man who was supposed to be the love of her life. Even if she’d been every bit as responsible for his death as those rocks he’d crashed into.

All of that was part of the life she’d put firmly behind her for ever.

Tori tugged her coat tighter around her, feeling a chill that the fancy four-by-four’s heating system couldn’t hope to warm. She couldn’t wait for this cursed trip to be over.

CHAPTER TWO

OKAY, THIS WASN’T working at all.

Keeping his main focus firmly on the road ahead, and the swirling snowflakes that grew heavier with every moment, meant that Jasper could only spare the briefest of glances at his travelling companion. But even that was enough to realise that any hopes he’d had of Tori opening up or even relaxing a little as they took the secluded, picturesque road through the moors were doomed. Curled up in her seat, her coat wrapped tightly around her slim body, she looked almost like a child having a sulk.

Maybe that was what she was doing. And Jasper had teased Felix out of enough sulks in their childhood to know how to fix that.

Except he wasn’t thinking about Felix. Ever.

Think about Tori. And not crashing the car.

Tori Edwards was an enigma. She’d appeared in his life one day and hadn’t left, and despite their night together he wasn’t sure he knew her any better now than the day she’d arrived.

After his father’s revelation about Felix’s parentage, Jasper had worried briefly that Tori was another of the earl’s illegitimate children, but that fear had been quickly dispelled. And given her colouring—her pale skin, her dark hair, and her bright green eyes—he should have known better anyway. He got his own dark hair from his mother, and his eyes were his father’s distinctive golden brown—the same, he realised too late, as Felix’s.

Jasper and Felix had both been about to start their third year of university down in Oxford when Tori had shown up that first summer, a year into her own business degree at York, and working for the earl during the holidays. He’d claimed he’d plucked her from obscurity at some roadside inn where her talents were clearly wasted. Tori had never denied the story, but Jasper suspected that his father’s desire to appear a patron, a benefactor, to a penniless girl who had just needed the right chances in life had had more to do with harking back to a previous era of aristocracy than anything else.

In truth, Jasper assumed the earl had hired Tori because she was very good at her job, patronage be damned. She’d worked hard all that summer learning the ropes at the Flaxstone estate—dealing with the groups of executives there for team building down in the woods, with the paintballing range and the go-kart track; hosting birthday parties for horse-mad little girls; serving teas and coffees in the farm café and even leading walking tours of the land around Flaxstone, up to the ruins of the old hall that had been crumbling away nicely for the last three hundred years. There had been no job she wouldn’t take on, and before long she’d known more about how the estate was run than staff who’d been there for decades.

The earl, for all his many faults, had at least seen the writing on the wall for Britain’s landed gentry, and had found a way to diversify the assets the Flaxstone estate gave them, making the best use of their aristocratic inheritance by turning it into a business. And once Flaxstone itself had been running consistently in the black as a commercial enterprise, he’d turned his sights on the many estates in the country that hadn’t been so prescient—and done the same for them.

And Tori, from what Jasper could gather, had been a big part of that during his absence over the last five years.

But back when she’d first arrived, she’d been nothing more than another girl to flirt with, a challenge when she didn’t flirt back, and then a puzzle for him to solve when he couldn’t get her to open up at all. He and Felix had spent that whole first summer trying to bash holes in those walls she put up; teasing her, asking every question they could think of, even trying to get her drunk on long summer nights. She’d been just nineteen to their nearly twenty-one, close enough in age that it had seemed natural they’d spent time together, even if she’d lived in the staff quarters with the casual summer staff, and they had been up at the main hall.

She had been there again at Christmas that year, organising stalls for the annual Christmas market, decorating trees and staircases in the hall, and corralling carollers. Jasper had wondered briefly why she hadn’t gone home for Christmas, he remembered now. Later, he’d got the feeling that she hadn’t had a home to go to.

But she’d made a new one at Flaxstone. By the time she’d graduated, Tori had earned such respect from the earl that he’d given her the gatekeeper’s cottage and hired her full time, before she’d even attended graduation.

And two years later, the summer he’d found out the truth about Felix, Jasper had finally broken a small hole in those defences of hers, even if only for one night. Or maybe she’d broken a hole in his.

It had been the night that he’d found his father’s will, read about a potential second son he’d never heard of. His father had been out of town for meetings and Jasper had known it wasn’t a conversation he could have over the phone, so he’d resigned himself to waiting until his return the next day for answers.

But patience had never been one of his virtues.

Felix, he remembered now, had been off with some girl he’d fallen for on the summer staff, and not available for drunken oblivion. But Jasper had found Tori hanging bunting on the pop-up coffee stall she’d convinced the earl to install at the start of the garden walk.

‘Don’t you ever stop working?’ he’d asked her, leaning against the nearest tree to watch her work. She’d been methodical, focussed, and the bunting had dipped and hung at precise intervals from the tin roof of the stall.

‘When it’s all done, yes,’ she’d replied without looking at him.

‘When it’s done, I need something stronger than coffee. Join me?’

She’d turned then, looked him in the eye for a long moment, and then nodded.

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.