Winter's Heat: A Nemesis Unlimited Holiday Novella by Zoe Archer Page B

as lifted high as possible, her own muscles tight as she worked. If she’d ever been grateful for all the physical labor she did as a housemaid, now was the time.
    He didn’t make a sound, except for a few small exhalations when he found a hand or foothold. She marveled that not only was Michael climbing down the side of a building, he was doing so with her on his back. For the first time, she realized how capable he truly was. And dangerous.
    She focused on watching his climbing technique. How he rejected or accepted certain places for his feet and hands, and how she could feel the way his body shifted and held itself to keep balanced.
    It was so fascinating, she was actually surprised when Michael’s feet touched the ground.
    “The ferry’s arrived.” At least he sounded a bit breathless, so she knew that he wasn’t superhuman. Only a man who could do some rather amazing things.
    She released him, and her feet touched the earth. When she stepped back, she immediately missed his heat and solidity. Her own legs wobbled.
    Though he was the one who’d climbed down Covington Hall, he quickly supported her, his hand gripping her arm. “Easy and slow,” he murmured.
    She glanced up at the wall looming above them. “I can’t believe that just happened.”
    He slanted her an unreadable look. “We’re Nemesis. Almost anything’s possible. If you want it badly enough.”
    *   *   *
    Winter had stripped the garden and grounds to their bones. Dead grass crunched beneath Michael’s boots as he and Ada walked toward the ruin.
    Easy to see why Christmas would be necessary at this time of year. Warmth and green seemed like far memories. But the holiday could provide a welcome break from the relentless gray and chill.
    He didn’t speak until they’d put a goodly distance between themselves and the house. And even then, he kept his voice low. As Ada had pointed out, there could be a patrolling groundskeeper, or someone else who decided on a midnight ramble through the grounds.
    “It’s lumping cold out here,” he muttered, his breath misting in front of him. Snow wouldn’t be long in coming. “Meanwhile Marco’s nice and cozy at the village inn.”
    “Marco from Nemesis?”
    “The same. He’s available should we need a third pair of hands.”
    “Comforting,” she answered, but she didn’t sound quite comforted. Michael remembered that she’d never met Marco before, and might not trust him. Marco was a slippery bastard.
    “How’s Priscilla?” he asked.
    For the first time that night, Ada’s expression softened. “Thriving. And the mother of a healthy little girl. They’re living in Coventry now. Prissy’s mother watches the baby during the day while she works at a ribbon factory. Of course,” she added bitterly, “everyone thinks she’s a widow, otherwise no one would hire her.”
    Michael was silent in grim acknowledgment. The burden of unwanted pregnancy always fell on women. Never the men. They seldom, if ever, bore the costs—or shame.
    “You did well by her,” he murmured.
    “Me?” Ada’s eyes rounded in surprise. “Nemesis found the evidence to blackmail the aristo bastard that raped her. You and Simon.”
    “You assisted us. And we wouldn’t have known to help if you hadn’t reached out to Nemesis.”
    Shadows darkened her eyes as they finally left the formal garden and entered the rolling parkland. “I’d seen it happen too many times to let it pass again without doing something about it. A house full of young, vulnerable girls, dependent on the family’s good will for a roof and food, and a little money for our work. Some masters are good men, but some think the housemaids are their own personal brothel. Even when the girls say no, there’s nothing to be done. She’s the one who’s at fault. She’s the whore. As Prissy learned.” She exhaled, her breath a soft puff of white in the brittle air. “At least that son of a bitch paid, enough for her and her mother to start