Snowbound With The Heir

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.

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