The woman kicked and screamed and mumbled blasphemous words when they secured her to an old wooden chair with her own stockings.
Lord Northcott stood back and considered the lady snarling and spitting and cursing him to the devil. “If you can spare a groom to give me direction, I’ll ride to the magistrate at once, and we’ll take the matter from there. No doubt Bellham’s family will have something to say, but I doubt anyone will want to draw undue attention.”
“Of course.” Hugo inclined his head. “I shall await news. Come and see me in my study upon your return. In the meantime, I shall lock this door and have a man stand guard until Sir Ellis or Mr Marshall arrive.”
Lara ignored the vile tirade that burst from Miss Harper’s lips.
The viscount made to leave, but Hugo called out to him. “Once this matter is concluded, I will hear of your interest in the Strawbridge. Particularly the journeys made from Bordeaux.”
Lord Northcott tried to hide his look of surprise and merely said “As you wish” before leaving the cottage.
Miss Venables asked to return to her room. The red rims around her eyes and her solemn expression spoke of a world-weary tiredness, not merely a lack of sleep. She stood with her shoulders slumped, spoke in a distant, monotone voice when she agreed to meet with Hugo in the morning.
As soon as Lara and Hugo stepped outside the bothy, he drew her into a comforting embrace.
“I saw my whole life come crashing to an end when that devil waved her damn pistol at you.” He kissed her forehead and stroked her hair. “I cannot lose you now. Not after you’ve braved the worst snowstorm in centuries to find your way to me.”
Lara smiled. Despite the harsh conditions, love for this man flamed brightly inside to keep her warm. “I would have fought through worse, crossed icy rivers, climbed treacherous mountains, had I known you were waiting.”
“I’ve been waiting for as long as I can remember. I didn’t realise that was the case until you came sweeping through my front door, covered in snow.”
Heavens. She would never forget the look of horror on Lady Denham’s face when she found Lara dripping water onto the polished floor. “Your mother seemed most perturbed to see me standing in a puddle on the parquet.”
“More perturbed when you mentioned your grandfather was Montague Forsyth.”
“It could all have gone so terribly wrong.” The Denhams could have thrown them both out upon discovering their scheme. “The fact our kin have embraced each other again is a testament to the depth of their love.”
“Knowing how I feel about you now, I cannot imagine how they’ve coped these last forty years. Does the pain of separation become easier with time?”
People like Lady Denham locked their love away and buried the box. Still, they could not shake the weight of the burden and so made everyone as miserable as they were. People like Montague eased the pain by sharing their love, bestowing the precious gift on friends and relatives, continually trying to recapture those feelings of euphoria.
“Well, having witnessed them roving about like lovers in the prime of their youth, I would say they’re determined to make up for lost time.”
Hugo captured her chin and pressed a searing kiss to her lips. “I don’t want us to waste a single second. It’s strange. I’ve spent the last three years avoiding marriage as if it were the plague. Now, I cannot wait to marry you, Miss Lara Bennett.” He kissed her again in the licentious way that tightened the muscles in her core. “I cannot wait to share my life with you. Cannot wait to share my bed.”
Lara slid her arms around his waist. “Tell me that tomorrow will be a rather uneventful day. Tell me the worst of our troubles are over.”
“You made a winter wish. From now on, every night will be as magical as this one.”
Lara chuckled. “Magical? We were almost shot in the bothy by a madwoman.”
&nbs
p; He arched a brow. “I was referring to our memorable activities in the hideaway.”
“Oh, yes, I pray every night is as satisfying as that.”
Passion burned in his bright blue eyes as the snow fell all around them. “Not just every night. Some mornings and afternoons, too.”
Lara captured a snowflake from his lashes and said, “It’s your turn to make a winter wish.”
He laughed and closed his eyes. “While I wish we were back in the hideaway, wish that Montague and my mother find the happiness they deserve, there is one pressing matter that requires urgent attention.”
“And what is that, my love?”
“I wish it would damn well rain.”
Chapter Sixteen