upholstered in
faded blue fabric flanked a stone hearth and curtains, heavy with dust, framed
the cottage’s four windows. There was a bedroom as well, complete with a bed,
which both Lily and James were resolutely ignoring although she’d caught his
gaze straying towards the partially open door on more than one occasion.
Mr. Betram’s fur was still damp from the snow and Lily wiped her palm on her skirt before
she turned and directed her attention across the room to where James was
kneeling in front of the stone hearth, attempting to start a fire.
His hand was cupped in front of his
mouth and he was coaxing the flames to life with his breath, summoning them up
from the depths of the kindling until they attacked the larger pieces of wood
with a ferocity Lily found quite impressive.
“Have you done that many times before?”
she asked, shuffling a few steps closer to the fire and extending her hands
towards the warmth now emanating from the hearth. The flames crackled merrily,
lighting the room in a soft glow. It was curiously cheerful, if she ignored the
fact that she was stranded a good furlong from home with only a strange man for
company. And yet, she did not feel ill at ease in James’ presence. In truth
he’d hardly said more than a dozen words to her since they began their journey,
and she certainly did not feel in danger of being ravished. If anything he’d
gone out of his way to avoid touching her, both on the horse and off, and Lily
was left with the distinct impression that he was far more uncomfortable with
the situation than she.
Her thought was proven correct when he
leapt to his feet and jumped warily to the side, as though she were some
carnivorous beast intent of devouring him whole instead of a tiny woman trying
to get warm .
“Have you done that before?” she asked.
“Have I done what before?”
“Started a fire without a tinderbox.”
For some reason, her clarification
prompted a scowl. “Yes,” he said shortly. “I have.”
Captain James Rigby, she decided, was a
man of few words. Which was perfectly fine, as she had more than enough for the
both of them. “How long do you think we will have to stay here?”
Another
innocent question, another scowl. He was
standing to the side of the hearth, his countenance half in and half out of
shadow. It made him appear forbidding. Ominous, even. Lily knew she should have been afraid. Any woman in her right mind would be.
Instead she was… intrigued? Yes. Intrigued was as good a word as any to describe the fluttering sensation in her chest.
“When the snow stops and settles we can
leave,” he said.
Lily bit the inside of her cheek. “But
it may not stop snowing for hours, and by then it will be dark.”
James’ expression was unreadable. “Then
we will leave at first light.”
At first light…
First light meant dawn. Dawn meant
morning. Morning meant… She sucked in a breath. Morning meant spending the
night here. With James. Alone.
For the first time, Lily considered her
reputation and the possible repercussions that would follow if anyone found out
where she’d been. She would be ruined, completely and irrevocably. Society was
not kind to women who broke the unwritten rules; principle among them being one
did not spend the evening alone with
a gentleman without a proper chaperone. It hardly mattered if anything happened
between her and Captain Rigby. She would be considered spoiled goods, and men
seeking wives of high moral character did not want anything that was spoiled,
no matter that they were hardly coming to the marriage bed a virgin themselves.
“Are you certain there is no way we can
get home before nightfall?” Anxious now, she returned to the kitchen where her
cloak was drying on one of the chairs. The fabric was still damp, but it was
certainly wearable and all things considered she would much rather risk a chill
than condemnation from her peers.
James remained by the hearth but his
eyes followed her. When she
faded blue fabric flanked a stone hearth and curtains, heavy with dust, framed
the cottage’s four windows. There was a bedroom as well, complete with a bed,
which both Lily and James were resolutely ignoring although she’d caught his
gaze straying towards the partially open door on more than one occasion.
Mr. Betram’s fur was still damp from the snow and Lily wiped her palm on her skirt before
she turned and directed her attention across the room to where James was
kneeling in front of the stone hearth, attempting to start a fire.
His hand was cupped in front of his
mouth and he was coaxing the flames to life with his breath, summoning them up
from the depths of the kindling until they attacked the larger pieces of wood
with a ferocity Lily found quite impressive.
“Have you done that many times before?”
she asked, shuffling a few steps closer to the fire and extending her hands
towards the warmth now emanating from the hearth. The flames crackled merrily,
lighting the room in a soft glow. It was curiously cheerful, if she ignored the
fact that she was stranded a good furlong from home with only a strange man for
company. And yet, she did not feel ill at ease in James’ presence. In truth
he’d hardly said more than a dozen words to her since they began their journey,
and she certainly did not feel in danger of being ravished. If anything he’d
gone out of his way to avoid touching her, both on the horse and off, and Lily
was left with the distinct impression that he was far more uncomfortable with
the situation than she.
Her thought was proven correct when he
leapt to his feet and jumped warily to the side, as though she were some
carnivorous beast intent of devouring him whole instead of a tiny woman trying
to get warm .
“Have you done that before?” she asked.
“Have I done what before?”
“Started a fire without a tinderbox.”
For some reason, her clarification
prompted a scowl. “Yes,” he said shortly. “I have.”
Captain James Rigby, she decided, was a
man of few words. Which was perfectly fine, as she had more than enough for the
both of them. “How long do you think we will have to stay here?”
Another
innocent question, another scowl. He was
standing to the side of the hearth, his countenance half in and half out of
shadow. It made him appear forbidding. Ominous, even. Lily knew she should have been afraid. Any woman in her right mind would be.
Instead she was… intrigued? Yes. Intrigued was as good a word as any to describe the fluttering sensation in her chest.
“When the snow stops and settles we can
leave,” he said.
Lily bit the inside of her cheek. “But
it may not stop snowing for hours, and by then it will be dark.”
James’ expression was unreadable. “Then
we will leave at first light.”
At first light…
First light meant dawn. Dawn meant
morning. Morning meant… She sucked in a breath. Morning meant spending the
night here. With James. Alone.
For the first time, Lily considered her
reputation and the possible repercussions that would follow if anyone found out
where she’d been. She would be ruined, completely and irrevocably. Society was
not kind to women who broke the unwritten rules; principle among them being one
did not spend the evening alone with
a gentleman without a proper chaperone. It hardly mattered if anything happened
between her and Captain Rigby. She would be considered spoiled goods, and men
seeking wives of high moral character did not want anything that was spoiled,
no matter that they were hardly coming to the marriage bed a virgin themselves.
“Are you certain there is no way we can
get home before nightfall?” Anxious now, she returned to the kitchen where her
cloak was drying on one of the chairs. The fabric was still damp, but it was
certainly wearable and all things considered she would much rather risk a chill
than condemnation from her peers.
James remained by the hearth but his
eyes followed her. When she
Similar Books
