Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

S unshine had barely broken through the thick cloud cover that stretched across the sky and promised the day would be cold and gray again. Snow was already falling. Rowan stretched out on the longer sofa across the room from the fireplace and folded his arms, placing his hands behind his head. Casting a quick look to his right, he regarded the woman still asleep on the settee, dressed in his clothing. She is truly beautiful .

Soon , she would wake up, and he could look at those glorious brandy-colored eyes again—in the candlelight, they were heart-stopping. What would today bring? They were supposed to be at a house party—but they were here. He wondered how different things would have been had they been at the house party instead of here. Would he have flirted with her? Would he have tried to steal a kiss?

But how did we get here…she in my clothes, and us stranded in my dilapidated manor house? His mind struggled to comprehend all that had transpired the day before. One minute, Rowan was joining his friends on a foxhunt, the next thing he knew, he was rescuing the stubborn young woman from herself at the gamekeeper’s shed, catching her in the act of stealing the fox that had been caged for the upcoming hunt. And then he’d had no choice but to bring her here because of a sudden and fierce snowstorm. And now, here they were in his manor house—with a fox, who was curiously staring at him from across the room—and the beautiful woman who rescued the fox lay in a deep sleep on the smaller settee to his right.

When Lucy had changed into his clothing the night before, it nearly undid him. He’d made some excuse about getting dinner started and practically ran from the parlor until the tightening in his own breeches relaxed. Despite the effect she had on him, he couldn’t stop staring at her as she slept. Her hair was loose, with curls cascading around her face and on the pillow, framing her face. She was adorable. Even her soft snore was sweet.

And it was still snowing.

How much snowfall can they expect today, and would they make it back to Latham’s house party? This house wasn’t far from Latham’s , but with this much snow, travel could take several hours. And the elements were unforgiving. No one had expected almost a foot of snow to fall in less than a day. Unheard of. But the weather this year had been anything but predictable.

“ Would you allow me to make breakfast for you?” Lucy asked suddenly, sitting up and wiping the sleep from her eyes.

Her voice sounded deeper from having just awakened, and her hair was messy and tumbling around her shoulders. She was a dream come to life. If only they were in a comfortable four-poster bed with satin sheets. Oh , how he’d enjoy waking her up.

He covered himself with one of the old blankets he’d found. “ You’re awake,” he said, trying to keep his voice neutral. “ Have you withheld important information from me? Do you know how to cook?”

“ Not much, but your cooking impressed me. I might know how to make toast and tea.” She giggled. “ But not much else. Mother preferred I learned those irksome skills such as painting pictures of flowers and making needlepoint samplers.”

He laughed. “ I’ve always wondered what one does with those small squares of needlepoint.”

“ I used mine to line the bird feeders at our estate,” she said, slipping her spectacles on her nose. “ But I’ve known many young ladies to make them into footstool covers or frame them.”

She’d briefly mentioned having to wear glasses, but he hadn’t seen her wear them until now. Perhaps she wore them for reading or because she’d offered to cook and needed to see more clearly. He thought she looked sweet with the spectacles perched on her nose. Like a little girl who was trying to be studious. Good Lord , if that was the reason why she’d been virtually ignored by Society gentlemen, they were a bunch of fools.

“ So , if painting and doing needlepoint are not to your liking, which of your skills do you favor?” The question seemed innocuous enough, but she scrunched her nose and glanced down.

“ I apologize if I insulted you. It was not my intention. What do you enjoy?”

She smiled at the fox, who, in turn, looked at her curiously. “ I have a weakness for animals, like Ashe . My father complains that I have turned the gardener’s shed into an animal sanctuary, and there is no more space for the gardening tools. Even though I recently moved to a modest townhouse, he’s allowed me to keep my animals there—for the time being. I’ve studied all the veterinary books I can find, and if I’m not reading, I can generally be found helping a stray mama cat deliver its kittens…”

A smile creased his face. “ Or rescuing a fox from a foxhunt,” he added. She had shown no fear at the prospect of lifting a strange, wild animal from its cage. The woman’s gumption fascinated him.

“ Yes .”

“ You say your father complains?”

“ He is ready to see me married…really married. My mother, as well.” She looked away.

“ Really married? What do you— Ah , I see… You don’t have to answer that question.” He remembered Latham , Slice , and Nelson telling him the proxy marriage had never been consummated. How could he have been so thoughtless?

Her brown eyes darkened with pain. “ Yes , that. I am a widow…technically, I suppose.” She fixed her gaze on him. “ Are you telling me you’ve never heard about Unlucky Lucy ?”

He certainly did not want to hurt her feelings even further by telling her he had. “ I’ve been working with the government and only recently returned from France . I may have heard the nickname, but I am afraid I’m unsure of its connection to your widow status.” Even so, he was curious to hear what she would say about her marriage. At least she wasn’t a debutante. Then again, Lucy could only have had her come out a few short years ago, so he suspected she would have been the only debutante that would have interested him. Had he been around and searching for a wife. Which he wasn’t. “ Don’t feel you need to share anything uncomfortable. I was merely trying to get to know you better since we appear to be here for a little while.”

She stood and hobbled to the fireplace, where she stooped and gave Ashe a scratch behind his ears. The fox emitted a purring sound, much like a cat. “ I’m sorry. The whole marriage thing was at my father’s and mother’s insistence. I was married by proxy. And to say it didn’t work out well would be a gross understatement. It turns out that my intended decided he needed to travel to India just before the wedding and convinced my father to marry us by proxy. He was discovered stealing valuable jewels from a wealthy British officer’s family and met his demise at the end of a pistol. In case you’re wondering, I didn’t know my husband well. And apparently, neither did my father. The Ton Tattler wasted little time spreading my woeful tale.”

Her description of what had happened made him feel horrible for her and angry that she’d had to go through that. When he had initially heard the story, he had not yet met Lucy . But having met her and knowing how lovely and sweet and intelligent she was, his heart wrenched at her pain. “ I’m sorry that happened to you,” he finally said, genuinely meaning it. Rowan stood. “ Do you suppose we should see what we can find in the kitchen?”

She brightened. “ I apologize if my tone came across as unenthusiastic. I’ve grown a little weary of the bad luck that seems to follow me. I rather think it’s time I let go of that. It’s all in the past, after all. She smiled. “ But I would very much like to be of assistance and find out how a soldier became such a fine cook.”

He grinned as he offered her his arm and helped Lucy to the kitchen.

Rowan wanted to know more about her. Except he was unsure how to ask, having already upset her once. Hoping to prompt conversation, he shared more about himself. “ I lived in France for the last ten years of my military career. Have you ever been there?”

“ No . I’ve never seen France , although my parents went there on their wedding trip. I’ve always wanted to go.”

“ Now that things have settled down a little more, perhaps that would be possible in your future,” he offered.

“ Yes , perhaps.” She gave him a shy smile, then reached for a pot hanging among other pots and pans above a cabinet in the center of the kitchen.

“ You grab that like it’s second nature to you,” he teased.

She laughed, saying, “ My mother would be horrified. It seems my whole adolescence was spent building up for my eventual come-out, one that I spoiled with too much gaiety.”

“ Too much gaiety? How could that be?” he asked nonchalantly, taking out the bread he had found in the gatekeeper’s kitchen and slicing it.

She looked at him in the morning light as if she were trying to take her measure of him. “ On my first ball, I drank a bit too much champagne, and with all the twirling and dancing, I got sick and cast up my accounts onto the ballroom floor. Should I mention it was the Duke of Clarence’s ball?” She giggled.

He burst into laughter. “ I’m sorry. I don’t mean to add to your discomfort, but that’s one of the funniest stories I’ve heard in a while.” Even though he’d heard the story, her straightforward, wry recounting of it and her giggle was refreshing. Taking the butter crock, he handed the bread and the butter to her. “ Do you want to have your toast with melted butter toasted onto it or dry toast to butter afterward?”

She took the bread and butter and began to lay out the bread onto the pan. “ I’ve never put butter on bread and then toasted it. Let’s try that.”

“ Bold decision,” he said with a wink.

“ Did you mean what you said? That my story was funny?” she asked, smearing the butter on each slice of bread.

“ I did,” he said. “ I’m sure the only thing funnier—maybe not for you at the time—would have been if someone fell into it.”

“ Oh , we are wicked.” She giggled again. “ Someone did. The Widow Deville slipped in it and ruined her red dress. She had it in for me after that.

“ I have heard of her,” he said. “ She’s on my list of women to avoid.”

Lucy burst out laughing. “ Truly ? She is a rather awful woman. I suppose Lord Latham warned you about her.”

“ No , but word is out.”

“ Hmm … At the time, I didn’t realize how horrid she had been to Frankie and Thomas . Katie told me about it afterward.”

“ Well , luckily, Frankie and Thomas are happily married now.”

“ Yes , they are,” she said softly.

“ I hope you enjoy eggs. I picked up several. How many do you want?

“ Two should be sufficient.”

The groundskeeper— I really should learn his name—had a bowl of them in his larder. I felt like I had found a hidden treasure when I discovered them,” he said, cracking four eggs in a bowl and whisking them.

Lucy kept opening the oven and checking the toast.

“ Give it another couple of minutes, then it should be done,” he said.

“ This is amazing. All we’d need is some honey or jam for the toast,” she murmured.

“ Do you have a favorite?” he asked, opening the pantry. “ There were a few jars in the larder,” he called out. “ I have no reason to believe they would have spoiled.”

“ Is there strawberry?”

“ Indeed , there is.” He grinned a few moments later, waving a small jar.

Over breakfast, she shared her plans to purchase a small property outside of London to live with her menagerie of injured animals. He asked her what kinds of animals she had cared for and was astounded to learn she had rescued a monkey. Rowan admired her passion, especially how her eyes glowed when she spoke about the various creatures she’d helped.

In turn, Rowan shared a few stories from his travels over the years. If he didn’t touch on the specifics of his assignments, he felt it was all right to share that much. She listened raptly, and her laughter at his more humorous experiences filled him with a warmth he’d never experienced before. In fact, short of his mother and sisters, he’d never just simply enjoyed the company of a woman. His various liaisons never left much in the way of conversation. Oh , there was the flirtation leading up to the seduction. But conversation just for the sake of it? Had never interested him before Lucy .

“ What an excellent breakfast,” Lucy commented, wiping her lips with her napkin.

“ Thank you. I had a very good assistant cook,” he said, smiling at her and admiring the loose brunette curls that framed her face and cascaded to her shoulders. “ Would you like to see the rest of the house?” he suddenly asked. “ Perhaps I should first ask how your ankle is feeling.”

“ I would, but my ankle still hurts.” She genuinely looked upset about the missed opportunity. “ If I had something to lean on, it would make walking easier,” Lucy said, setting down her teacup.

He went to the corner of the kitchen and retrieved a crutch made from the broom handle. “ I thought about that last night, so I fashioned a crutch for you. Unless you prefer my carrying you as your knight in shining armor, I would be happy to oblige.” He grinned.

“ That is most gallant of you, my lord, but I think the crutch you fashioned will do very well. She beamed, turning it around and inspecting every inch of it. “ Thank you so much. I cannot believe you did this for me.” Standing , she tried it out, walking toward him. “ It’s perfect. You even wrapped some of the sheet around it to make it soft for my underarm. Thank you,” she said again, leaning up to look at him with those brandy-colored eyes.

He thought for a moment she would kiss him. When she didn’t, he thought he had missed out on something he would have enjoyed. Not because it was a kiss. But because it was a kiss from her.

“ I’ve gone through the manor house once—quickly—when I first arrived. So , it might be time to go through it again. It’ll give me a better idea of what I need to do to repair and refurbish.”

“ Can Ashe have our scraps?” she asked. “ I think he may have found his breakfast lacking. There’s no telling how much he was being fed in that cage. However , I don’t think it was enough.”

He agreed and helped her scrape the scraps into a small bowl for the fox. Next , they set up some water in a big kettle over the fire.

“ When that heats, we can wash the dishes,” he suggested. “ Let’s take a look around.” He turned and snapped his fingers, and Ashe followed them.

“ You and Ashe are becoming friends,” she observed.

“ He seems friendly enough. Although , this is closer than I’ve ever been to a wild fox,” he said, giving her a wink. And it was true. The fox behaved much like a puppy, following them and waiting to be remembered with food scraps.

“ Would you like to start with the library?” he asked.

“ That sounds like a good idea. I hope there are lots of books,” she said with a wry smile.

“ It’s this way,” Rowan said, leading into a wide hallway with a floor made of marble. “ It joins my great-uncle… my …study.”

They walked into a room with an enormous fireplace on the outside wall. In front of it was a desk covered with a cloth. Two covered chairs sat in front of the desk. Looking around the room, he saw a standing globe. What appeared to be covered window seats flanked the fireplace. He pulled back one of the dark green velvet curtains above the window seats, letting in some of the light. “ These are moldy and moth-eaten. They’ll have to be replaced,” he muttered to himself.

Lucy commented, “ It seems like this place has been unoccupied for a long time.”

“ From what I understand, he moved to London after his wife died in childbirth, and he never returned.”

“ Look at all these books. I’m sure they’re dusty, but there are so many. It could take all day to read all the spines!” exclaimed Lucy .

“ Would you like to spend some time in here?” We could take some of these covers off and light a fire in the fireplace,” he suggested.

“ Would you mind?”

No , he wouldn’t mind at all. It was still snowing, so they weren’t going anywhere today. He couldn’t think of anything better than getting to know the woman in front of him. There was nothing he’d rather be doing than spending time with Lucy . She was like no other woman he had ever met.

Lucy hobbled over to the window seats and, seeing a cabinet beneath them, opened it. Inside , she found a red velvet box with a black bow. “ Do you mind if I open this and see what’s inside?”

“ No , not at all,” Rowan said, distractedly. He had found some heart of pine and was lighting the logs in the fireplace. Once he got the fire going, he closed the grate and stood back and admired his work, glad to have spotted the small tin of heart of pine.

“ Rowan , I think this book is the late earl’s wife’s journal. And look! I’ve found some letters. I think they are love letters. Would it be wicked if we read them?” Lucy asked, biting her lower lip.

Seeing her do that made him want to kiss that lower lip—and then the top one. And then, both. And then move to her neck. It made him crazy. He rubbed the back of his neck. “ I met my great-uncle a few times in my childhood but never really got to know him. Perhaps it would be a way to get to know both him and my great-aunt, whom I never met. On the surface, theirs seems such a tragic story.”

“ Then perhaps reading them will be cathartic,” Lucy suggested.

Ashe immediately curled up in front of the warm fireplace.

Rowan pulled the sheets off the wing-back chairs and arranged them in front of the fire.

He helped her over to one of the chairs and placed a small footstool in front of it for her foot.

“ This is such an intriguing mystery,” Lucy said as she wiggled her lovely bottom—one covered with his breeches, he reminded himself—into one of the chairs. “ We might be here for hours with all of these.”

All Rowan could think of was how lovely she looked in the firelight, her face brimming with excitement about reading a few old love letters. Suddenly , he wondered how she might look reading a letter from him.