For a moment, Rosalind stood there simply stunned.
“I need your help, Rosy!” Demetrius called out.
She had to help her brother because she certainly couldn’t explain why she was lingering back now. She glanced to where the voices had come from to see Demetrius and Felding chasing the boys from the woods and took off after them.
Once they cleared the tree line, Demetrius and Felding were after the boys at a full out run. Rosalind fell behind because she couldn’t hold her skirts up with the snowballs in her hands. She let them drop, grasped the material, and lifted enough so that she could follow. Felding and Demetrius let their snow fly striking the older boys in the back. Her hands still shook from her encounter, and Rosalind wouldn’t have been able to aim a snowball if her life depended on it. From the moment Felding’s lips touched hers, Rosalind had lost interest in the game though there was some deep satisfaction in seeing the children brought to task.
As the youngsters gained the house, Lord and Lady Meadows, along with Sir Lavins stepped out. They each frowned at the four children arms crossed in front of them. The boys skidded to a halt in front of their disapproving parents and glanced back at Demetrius and Felding gaining on them with utter and complete fear on their small faces. It only made Rosalind laugh as she tried to catch up.
Had she not been looking at the house, Rosalind might have realized she was running through what were probably the formal gardens when her foot caught tripping her. Before she could call out, Rosalind fell forward. She placed her hands to brace herself but still fell face first into the snow. The cold, moist blanket was a shock at first stealing her breath.
Goodness that was embarrassing, she chuckled as she rolled to her back surprised she hadn’t fallen before now. She let her head fall back and laughed.
One moment she looked up at the crisp blue sky and in a blink, Felding was looking down at her. A concerned frown marred his brow.
“Are you all right, Miss Valentine?”
“I am perfectly fine, Lord Felding,” she laughed and held up a hand. “Could you help me stand?”
Relief washed over his features, and he held out a gloved hand and grasped hers. With one strong pull, he had her on her feet. Rosalind bent to brush the snow from her pelisse and skirts before she turned toward the house. Pain sliced through her ankle, and she nearly fell again. Felding’s arm snaked around her waist.
“What is it?”
Rosalind winced. “I believe I turned my ankle.”
Without asking permission, Felding bent and scooped her up in his arms and strode toward the house where the others waited and watched.
“Miss Valentine?” Lady Meadows questioned.
“She hurt her ankle,” Felding answered.
“Let’s get you inside.” Lady Meadows stepped back and opened the door. “Biscuits and chocolate are waiting for you. Penelope said the three of you often enjoyed that treat after playing in the snow.”
“Biscuits and chocolate?” the oldest boy asked with excitement.
“Not for you four,” Lord Meadows bit out. “It is one of your punishments for throwing snowballs at the adults.”
The shoulders slumped on the four boys, and their chins dropped to their chest. “We didn’t mean to hit anyone.”
Sir Lavins lifted an eyebrow. “Then why throw it in the first place?”
The boys shared a look.
“Just as I thought,” Meadows stated. “All four of you know better, and I promise, after we are done, you will never do so again.”
The boys stiffened and looked at their fathers their eyes round with fear.
Felding chuckled though Rosalind hoped their punishment wasn’t harsh. They were boys having a bit of fun, and nobody had been harmed at least not until she tripped. But she had gone after them. She could have remained inside with the other ladies. But if she had, she would have never been in a position for Felding to kiss her. This snowball fight was far more delightful than the ones she had participated in as a child, Rosalind thought as she smiled, and lowered her head so as not to give her thoughts away.
“No chocolate or biscuits today, and tomorrow you will be helping muck out the stables,” Meadows insisted.
They groaned in unison.
“Right now, get upstairs and put some dry clothing on. Your tutors are waiting.”
Seventeen
Noah stepped inside the drawing room where most of the guests were gathered. Many had been standing at the windows watching the chase. He didn’t realize they would have such an audience and glanced back. Could they have seen him and Rosalind by the rocks? If he strained, he could make them out in the distance, but the two of them would have been on the other side of the outcropping. Hopefully nobody had been looking in that direction. Had they, Noah believed only the tops of their heads could have been seen, if anything. Not that it mattered if they had seen them. Noah now had his answer to the question that had plagued him. Not only did Rosalind Valentine enjoy adventure and still playing in the snow, she was also full of passion. Other than the coldness of her lips when he first touched his to hers, there was nothing else chilly in her embrace.
The guests turned toward them when he entered with Miss Valentine in his arms.
“What happened?” Penelope asked.
“It is nothing,” Rosalind insisted.
“She twisted her ankle,” Noah answered and moved across the room toward the fire. Now that they were no longer running, or kissing, the damp clothing was beginning to chill his body. Both he and Rosalind needed to change. It was a shame he was not yet in a position to simply carry her upstairs, strip her, and warm her in other ways. However, he anticipated that there would be time for that in the future. He might just toss her in the snow for the pleasure of returning her to the chamber to strip her bare and heat her body in the several ways he imagined while she was upon his lap.
Demetrius stomped his boots outside and entered after them letting a wide grin display upon his face. “Dashing good time,” he said to those present.
Broadridge sniffed and settled back in a chair.
“Lord Felding,” Lady Jillian cooed as she came up to him. “You should give Miss Valentine to her brother and change before you catch your death.”
Though he could hand Rosalind to Demetrius, Noah knew it would only aggravate Lady Jillian if he held onto the young woman. Besides, he wasn’t yet ready to relinquish his hold on Rosalind. He might never be ready. “I will see her upstairs as I am going that way myself.”
“I’ll come and help Miss Valentine,” Penelope announced and led the way out the door.
Noah followed making sure to cradle Rosalind close. She was light and soft, and smelled of Lily of the Valley. “Does your ankle pain you much?”
“No,” she answered. “Though I doubt I could negotiate the stairs.
“I’ll wait for you to change and bring you back down.”
Rosalind pulled back and looked up at him. “That is not necessary, Lord Felding. I am sure my brother can do so.”
He wasn’t about to give up the opportunity to carry her a second time. “I insist,” he said quietly.
Miss Valentine frowned and studied him. She was probably confused as to why he wished to carry her, but Noah wasn’t sure if or how he could explain when he wasn’t sure how much he wished to tell her. Hell, she was probably confused about the entire events of this afternoon, however; soon he would need to speak with her in private. While her kiss led him to believe she would not reject his offer of courtship, she was also probably surprised as he had not given her any indication of his thoughts prior to her landing on his lap.
Was there a chance she did not wish for his attention? Noah frowned and looked toward the top of the stairs. If she did not want him to pursue her, she would not have kissed him as she had, allowed him to mold her body to his, or threaded her fingers through his hair. Rosalind may have been surprised, but rejection was not on her lips or in her actions.
Noah entered through the door Penelope he
ld open and set Rosalind in a chair. “Don’t try to leave until I come for you,” he insisted.
“I’ll make sure she stays right here,” Penelope insisted with a grin. “It is my turn to take care of her.”
He exited and made his way to his own room, closed the door, and leaned back against it. Noah couldn’t erase the memory of the pure joy on Rosalind’s face as they chased after the boys this afternoon. Her laughter warmed him, and she wasn’t even upset about falling face first into the snow. His heart had nearly stopped when he saw her fall, however, and he rushed to her side as quickly as he could. More of her laughter rang up to him, and he knew she was not seriously injured.
Nor could he forget how she felt in his arms and on his lap. Despite the cold, one part of him remained warm, hot, and throbbing with need. Had the boys not screamed, reminding him of where they were, who knew what else he would have done with Rosalind. His fingers had ached to fill his hands with her breasts, and he was considering such an action when they were disrupted. Had they not been cut short, would he have done more than simply molded those globes? Would he have opened her pelisse and loosened her gown so that he could feast on one nipple and then the next.
Noah grew harder and pulled away from the door and began shrugging out of his clothing. He would not have stopped at kissing her breasts but would have then searched out what lay beneath the skirt. Rosalind’s passionate response unleashed something primitive in him, and Noah was surprised he remained restrained enough not to have laid her in the snow and tossed up her skirts.
What had he been thinking? A woman such as Rosalind Valentine deserved better treatment and respect. All concern for her maidenly sensibilities disappeared the moment his lips touched hers, and Noah feared that if they found themselves in a similar situation again, he might not be able to keep from taking what he wanted so desperately. But to have her fully, he needed to marry her.
A shiver ran over his body as the last of the damp clothing was pulled away, and he rushed to gather a dry shirt and breeches and returned to stand before the fire. Absorbing its warmth, he redressed to return to the others. Only one part of him was not cold, and Noah wondered how long it would be before it returned to its normal state. If he kept thinking about Rosalind and how perfectly she fit against him, he would be in this state for a very long time.
It had been years since he had such fun or been engulfed with such strong passion. Adulthood had brought responsibilities and simple pleasures were forgotten until today.
What would it be like to be able to stare into those deep, blue eyes every night after they retired, and he put the responsibilities of the day behind him?
* * *
Rosalind limped toward the fireplace and stood there absorbing its heat while Penelope unbuttoned her dress and loosened her corset. Her hands shook, and her knees were weak. But it had nothing to do with being chilled or the fall.
She wished she would have questioned Felding further. He had wanted to kiss her? For how long and why? What did it mean?
What of Lady Jillian?
“Let’s get you out of those wet things.” Penelope’s voice intruded on her thoughts.
None of her clothing was dry thanks to falling into the snow. “Nothing is ruined is it?” She asked and concern tightened her stomach. She didn’t own the dress or the pelisse. They belonged to Lady Sandlin.
Penelope held up the garments studying them. “I see no damage.” She tossed them over a chair and assisted in peeling the shift from Rosalind’s body before draping a dry one over her.
“Besides, if there was a tear, Phoebe wouldn’t mind especially when she learned how it came about.”
Rosalind turned to warm her backside. “If you find a tear, I promise to mend it or replace the gown if necessary,” she said in earnest. “Perhaps your sister could take it from my wages.”
Penelope laughed and retrieved a rose dress from the armoire, studied it, and put it back.
“What was wrong with the gown?” It was really quite lovely.
“It won’t do for today.”
“The lavender?” Rosalind suggested.
Penelope shook her head and continued to look. All of the gowns Lady Sandlin let her borrow were lovely, and she couldn’t understand why Penelope was being so choosy.
“This one,” she said brightly and withdrew a deep blue day dress.
Rosalind sighed. That was her favorite, but she had held off wearing it wanting to use it for a special afternoon. Not that she knew if there would be anything special during this visit.
Penelope came forward with a dry corset and assisted Rosalind on getting it fastened before pulling her before the dresser and forcing her to sit before the mirror. With deft fingers, she removed all of the hairpins until Rosalind’s hair hung down her back. Penelope brushed out the tangles and began twisting and turning the wayward curls into a semblance of order. “This isn’t necessary. I can wear my hair as I always do,” which was knotted at the back of her head to keep it out of the way while she took care of children.
“This is much more attractive,” Penelope insisted as she piled the curls until they were pinned behind her head and fell to her shoulders. A few smaller ringlets escaped, and Rosalind blew them away from her face.
“Leave them for the moment,” Penelope insisted, and Rosalind obeyed anxious to see what else Penelope did. Rosalind had no idea she knew how to arrange hair. Didn’t she and her sisters have maids to do this for them?
Once all of the hair was secure at the back of her head, Penelope used her finger to form a curl around each loose hair framing her face. Rosalind had never seen her hair styled in such a way. She certainly had never taken the time to attempt it herself.
“Now for the dress,” Penelope insisted, and Rosalind stood once again and moved before the fire as Penelope helped her into the soft gown.
“Perfect,” Penelope whispered after she stood back and looked Rosalind over from head to toe. “Take a look.”
She led Rosalind to the looking glass and almost didn’t recognize the person looking back at her. Her hairstyle was the current fashion, and the curls around the face seemed to soften her features. Though the dark gown made her skin pale, her cheeks were a slight rosy hue, and her lips were redder than normal. They even appeared a bit swollen. Rosalind brought her fingers up and smoothed them over her lips. Were they this way because of the kiss?
She closed her eyes for a moment reliving the moments spent in Felding’s arms with his mouth on hers and any chill that had remained was extinguished as heat spread through her body.
Rosalind nearly jumped at the scratch at the door and waited while Penelope opened it. Felding entered and stopped. He took in the sight of her from head to toe. His eyes darkened and a slight smile came to his lips. Goodness, his eyes were almost smoldering, and she began to heat further under his gaze.
“Should you be standing, Miss Valentine?” He asked after a moment.
“My ankle is only slightly sore. I will get by.”
“I don’t suggest to try the stairs just yet,” Penelope insisted.
“I am sure it will be no trouble,” Rosalind answered. If she took them one at a time and held onto the banister, she could return downstairs without injury. “Shall we return to the others,” she suggested brightly and limped across the room.
Felding was beside her before she reached the door. “I will not allow you to attempt the stairs while you still limp.”
Before Rosalind could utter an argument, he swept her back in his arms.
Any protest that had begun to form died away. When he carried her before, she could feel the strength of his arms beneath her legs and around her back but both wore many layers of clothing. Such was not the case now, and she could feel his muscles tense and the strength of his body with each step he took. There was no fear of him dropping her, and Rosalind had no concern as he began to descend the stairs.
“Thank you,” she said surprised she could take a breath once they reached th
e lower floor. The parlor was just around the corner, and Rosalind found herself wishing it were on the other side of the house so that she could remain in Felding’s arms for just a bit longer.
Eighteen
It was all Noah could do not to march past the parlor where everyone had gathered and onto the library where he could be alone with Rosalind. There he would settle into a chair before the fire, with her cradled on his lap, as he proceeded to kiss her as he had done outside. A cushioned chair was much more comfortable than a snow covered ground and hard rock against his back. However, Noah would not shame Rosalind in that manner, nor did he want anyone to note his attraction as of yet since he was trying to discourage Lady Jillian. It was his fault for encouraging her in the first place. Would Rosalind attach herself to him because of the kisses they had shared? The last thing he needed was two women by his side constantly. However, he wasn’t so certain he wouldn’t mind Rosalind being with him whenever it was possible for them to be together.
He glanced down at the woman in his arms and knew Rosalind would not be in his pocket even if he declared his love. Not that what he was feeling was love because it was far too soon to determine exactly what his emotions were besides desire and passion. But even if they were of a same mind and emotion, she would never cleave to him as if he were her only lifeline.
Noah stepped inside to find everyone still gathered and inwardly groaned knowing he would be forced to put Rosalind down. To simply stand and hold her as he wished would certainly bring scandal down around her ears. He spied a chair not far from the fireplace and on the opposite side of the room of Lady Jillian and moved in that direction. Lady Jillian and her brother stood as to walk toward them.
Noah settled Rosalind in the chair and was about to sit in the one next to it when Lady Jillian slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. “Are you recovered from your outing?” She asked smiling up at him.
“There was nothing to recover from,” Noah insisted.
“And what of you, Miss Valentine. How is your ankle?”
His Christmas Match (A Gentleman's Guide to Once Upon a Time) Page 14
