The defensive note indicated that he’d hit a sore point. “There’s no need to fly up into the boughs. I’m on my own for Christmas, too.” Then the full significance of what she’d said struck him. “Damn it, I was going to have Christmas here, but I can’t now. In fact, I’ll have to ride on. Five miles to the village,
do you say? If you’ll fix me something to eat before I go, I’ll be on my way.”
She looked startled and not very pleased at his announcement. Which seemed mighty contrary. Upstairs, she’d pretty much shown him the door. “Now what in Hades is wrong with you?”
“I do wish you’d mind your language, sir.”
He scowled back. “Most people take me as they find me.”
Her dismissive expression conveyed her opinion of that. She went back to speaking as if he was a beef-witted clodhopper. “You came here through a blizzard.”
If he went back out into that white hell, his poor bloody horse would never speak to him again. He’d kept the mare going the last few arduous miles with promises of oats and a warm stable. “Believe me, I know.”
She spread her hands so the shawl shifted in a promising way. All the moisture dried from his mouth, as he prayed the blasted thing would just vanish altogether. “You’re lucky you got this far. This is dangerous country, Mr. Hale. People freeze to death in a Yorkshire winter.”
He could imagine. And damn and blast, it turned out he’d got all excited over nothing. The shawl remained as stubbornly concealing as ever.
“You must see it’s impossible for me to stay.” He tried to sound gentle. It wasn’t his natural mode, and he could see it didn’t persuade Miss Carr.
“You’re worried about the proprieties.” She sounded like she didn’t believe it. Given how he’d hoisted her over his shoulder a few minutes ago, he couldn’t blame her.
“Indeed I am. The two of us shouldn’t be alone together under one roof.”
She regarded him as if he made no sense. “But I’m a servant.”
A very insubordinate one, but he forbore to point that out. If he was going, he needed to go now. Much as he’d rather stay in this warm room, arguing with this truculent fairy. “A very pretty servant. Believe me, if the world finds out, it will pay attention.”
She didn’t seem to notice his compliment. He supposed she was used to men tumbling over themselves to tell her how lovely she was. The biggest puzzle of this puzzling situation was how the blazes this beguiling creature had managed to reach the advanced age of twenty-five while remaining Miss Carr.
Her laugh held a hint of grimness. “What world? This place is the back of beyond.”
“Are you saying you want me to stay?”
“I’m saying that at least for tonight and probably a few days to come, you can’t go anywhere else because the snow blocks the road over the hills. And even if you do get to Little Flitwick, there’s no inn. You’re in the wilds, Mr. Hale, not the middle of London.”
“You tried to get me to go away before.”
“I shouldn’t have.” She looked uncomfortable. “It’s just—”
He sent her a straight look. “You were on your own, and there was a stranger outside.”
She raised her chin. “Well, you’re no longer a stranger. Or not entirely. And I don’t want your death on my conscience.”
He straightened with a sigh, although hearing her say he wasn’t a stranger pleased him more than it should. Especially if he needed to keep his hands off her until the snow melted. “Then I’d better get my horse into the stable. At least for tonight. We can reassess in the morning.”
“I’ll help you.”
“No, you damn…dashed well won’t. One of us freezing his arse off is enough.” Hmm, his attempt at controlling his language wasn’t working too well. “Just tell me where to go.”
To his surprise, her lips quirked. “I’m too much of a lady for that.”
He gave a grunt of appreciative laughter. Had his sprite with eyes like the summer sky made a joke? He knew it was wrong to stay, but he couldn’t stifle his anticipation at the thought of seeing more of her.
And he didn’t just mean that slender, graceful body.
***
Maggie took advantage of Mr. Hale’s absence to rush upstairs and dress like the housekeeper she was. Coming back to the kitchens, she stoked up the fire and started making him a meal. By the time he stomped back into the kitchens, she felt much more composed.