The Christmas Countess

by Adrienne Basso

  She was immediately thrust into gloomy darkness. “Are there no windows?”

  “The wooden shutters are secured tight. Best to leave them closed or else we will feel the bite of the wind. Can you see?”

  “Barely.”

  “Stay where you are,” he instructed. “I need to shelter the horses. When I return, I will build us fire. The warmth will be welcome and it should provide enough light so we don‘t trip over anything.”

  Rebecca nodded. The earl left. She smoothed her skirts, then thrust her hands into the pockets of her cloak, trying to appear calm and nonchalant. Inside, however, she was jittery and nervous. Being stranded alone in a cottage in the middle of a raging snowstorm with Lord Hampton had the potential for disaster written all over it.

  The door opened and the earl entered. His greatcoat and hat were coated in snow, his cheeks red. He stomped off the snow that had accumulated on his boots, then gingerly moved from one foot to the other trying to warm himself. He was soon panting from the exertion, his breath puffing in the cold air.

  “The horses?” Rebecca asked, managing a casual tone with great effort.

  “They are fine. I found the barn nearly tumbling down, but two walls and a section of the roof are intact. I secured the horses in an area that will shelter them from the worst of the wind and snow.”

  “But is the structure sound enough to withstand high winds and pelting snow? It would be horrible to have the roof or walls collapse and trap the poor creatures.”

  “I am no architect, but I feel confident they will be safe.” He looked about the room. “Is there any wood? I need to build a fire to keep us from freezing.”

  A task. Good. It was important to stay busy, focused. That allowed less time to dwell on the situation. She needed to find wood or something they could burn. Ignoring the lump that had sprouted in her throat, Rebecca took stock of her surroundings.

  The room was completely bare. The previous occupants had not left any furniture or small items behind. The wood floor was covered in a fine layer of dust and as she moved, the motes flew about the room, tickling her nose. Waiting until her eyes adjusted more thoroughly to the gloom, Rebecca cautiously entered the only other room on the first floor. There she discovered a small pile of logs neatly stacked in the corner, covered in dust and cobwebs.

  Triumphantly she returned with her arms laden. The earl quickly relieved her of her burden. She stood near while he attended to the fire. Her teeth were chattering loudly by the time a small orange flame curled around the log.

  The earl crouched and gently blew on it, coaxing the flame to life. At his command, Rebecca obediently handed him several of the smaller sticks she had found. He added them slowly to the fledgling fire and the tiny flames grew larger, brighter, licking around the wood.

  “How long do you think this place has been abandoned?” she asked.

  “I‘m not sure.” The earl sat back on his heels. “A year at least. Maybe more. Let‘s just hope the chimney isn‘t clogged or else we‘ll soon be surrounded in smoke.”

  They waited anxiously, but the smoke drafted upward.

  “I don‘t suppose anyone will come looking for us?” she asked, not sure if that would make matters better or worse. A search party would ensure a faster rescue. Yet it might be better to keep this entire incident confidential and thus avoid any questions about their being alone.

  “I doubt anyone realizes we are gone,” he said. “Which is probably good. It would be foolish for someone to try to find us. Even a local who knows the area well would soon become disoriented and lost. The snow squall is near blinding.” He stood. “Thankfully, these storms rarely last long. No doubt the sun will appear within the hour.”

  An hour! Her knees wobbled. Rebecca averted her stricken eyes, not wanting him to think she was overreacting. “And if it doesn‘t end in an hour?”

  “Then it will end in two.” He turned a curious face her way. “You look frightened. Are you, Rebecca?”

  She lifted her chin. “Is there reason for me to be afraid, Cameron?”

  He smiled. “Answering a question with another. A clever technique of avoidance.”

  “More of an opportunity to gain perspective before saying the wrong thing,” she said lightly. “Is it something you would like to try yourself?”

  “Should I?”

  Rebecca smiled. She had removed her wet leather gloves and was attempting to warm her hands in the folds of her woolen cloak, but that too was wet.

  Cameron took another step closer and faced her, lifting her hands and holding them between his own. She looked down and noted his hands were large and well shaped. Surprisingly, his skin felt warm against the coldness of her flesh. It must have been warmed by the fire he just built.

  She fisted her hands and tried to pull away, but he increased his grip. Giving up the effort, Rebecca told herself she was being silly. He only meant to warm her, to prevent her from catching a chill.

  Their fingers entwined. Her skin prickled.

  “I like holding your hand,” he said softly.

  “I like it too. Which is why it also disturbs me.” She sighed, wondering if he could read the uncertainty and vulnerability in her eyes. “Sometimes I miss the touch of another person so much I feel near tears.”

  He nodded, as though he understood. “I miss the conversation, the laughter. The security of knowing I am loved for the man that I am, be that good or bad on any particular day.”

  His words brought her emotions to the surface. How many nights after Philip died did she lay awake at night, trembling with fear, knowing there was no longer that special, marvelous person who cared for her utterly, unselfishly?

  “‘Tis not always easy to push aside the temptation to give in to the despair, is it?” she whispered. “Yet we must both hope to someday find someone who would find comfort in being with us.”

  “If you said that to me a year ago I would have dismissed it without a thought. Yet I have recently discovered that people are not designed to live alone, to live without affection or caring.”

  Her heart suddenly leapt and her breath turned choppy. Was she the reason for his change of heart?

  “We are lucky to have family,” she said. “There is Lily, your mother, your sister. Though I had my father, I felt alone for a very long time. At least now I have my brother.”

  Rebecca blushed and turned her head, looking at the crackling fire with annoyance. Had the stormy weather brought about this maudlin mood?

  Cameron cleared his throat. “The room is warming. We should remove our wet garments.”

  He peeled off his dripping coat and hung it on a peg on the wall, then turned expectantly toward her. Rebecca shrugged off her cloak and hung it on the peg next to it.

  Now what? she thought as they regarded each other with uncertainty.

  “There must be a second story loft,” Cameron said. “I‘ll explore it and see if there is anything there that will make our stay a bit more comfortable.”

  He walked to the back of the room and for the first time Rebecca noticed the crudely made wooden ladder. He quickly climbed it and soon returned carrying two blankets. “They are none too clean, but will offer some protection from the chill in the air.”

  He spread one meager blanket on the floor in front of the fire, reserving the second blanket to lay across their laps. Feeling self-conscious, Rebecca obediently sat down. He gingerly sat beside her. Their thighs momentarily touched. She felt her heart thump with the speed of a galloping horse.

  But he made no inappropriate advances. It was necessary to stay close to keep warm, but her awareness of him beside her gradually became a pleasant feeling. Watching the crackling fire, they began talking of inconsequential matters. Rebecca decided he either did not notice her awkwardness or chose to ignore it. Whatever the truth, she was glad of it, for it gave her time to collect herself and settle her rioting emotions.

  Cameron asked her about her home and her childhood and she told him about her parents and
her brother and some of the more eccentric members of their small community. She talked for a long time, prompted by his questions and his genuine interest in her answers. Then she turned the tables on him, wanting to know of his life as a young man.

  He soon had her laughing at his mischievous pranks and daring escapades, both at home and during his tenure at Eton. She expressed pity for his parents at having to cope with such a high-spirited child and he told her another tale, far more outrageous than the others.

  Laughing heartily, Rebecca turned to look at him. She was enjoying herself far more than she could have possibly expected. She wanted so badly to believe they could eventually become friends, that she could form a relationship with him that would allow her to see Lily, but even more important, would allow her to be comfortable and secure in his company.

  Their eyes met and suddenly there was an awareness between them; an awareness that they were a man and a woman alone together. She took a deep breath, then had difficulty letting it go.

  “Your hair has come loose.” He reached out and very slowly brushed the stray wisp back behind her ear. The tips of his fingers feathered across the sensitive skin on her cheek.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, closing her eyes in yearning.

  His hand lingered at her nape. She moved forward, felt the warmth of his breath caress her cheek. One kiss. Just one, sweet kiss.

  “I‘m going to check on the progress of the storm.” He dropped his hand abruptly, breaking the unbearable tension. “There is a window on the second floor with a western view.”

  Rebecca‘s eyes sprung open. She watched him once again climb the ladder leading to the loft. She waited below, her emotions mixed in turmoil.

  What would happen if the storm worsened and they had to stay the night? Would their relationship escalate? Or even if it did not, would she be compromised to a state that would require a marriage proposal?

  The cottage remained eerily quiet and she grew nervous. Grasping the sides of the wooden ladder, Rebecca slowly climbed. The second story loft was far more spacious than she would have imagined. The ceiling was just high enough for Cameron to stand erect. The room air was chilled and she shivered.

  She crossed to where he was and he smiled when he saw her, stepping aside. He had rubbed away the grime on a section of the window glass revealing a view that evoked a sense of otherworldliness.

  The snow had ceased falling, though it clung to every surface. The sky was a deep gray, yet in the distance, above the far horizon a single shaft of sunlight made the ground sparkle like diamonds, glittering and fanciful.

  There was a light breeze wafting through a crack in one of the windowpanes and Rebecca could smell the fresh, crisp, clean air. Her breath fogged up the glass and she stepped back from the draft, but she continued to view the snow-encrusted countryside. Icicles hung from the edge of the roof like frozen tears, glistening in the light.

  As far as the eye could see there was white, with no dwelling or structures to break the landscape. The vastness of barren land made one feel small and insignificant, yet instead of emptiness, the clean purity of the snow made Rebecca feel reborn.

  The pristine blanket was so pure and perfect, covering any flaws beneath it. It was like a blank canvas, full of hope and promise, rife with the opportunity to start fresh.

  “It‘s so quiet,” she said, a huge welling of emotions rumbling through her voice.

  “Aye.” His head bent close to hears, his breath warming her as he murmured, “It feels as if we are the only two people on earth.”

  If only that were true. The thought popped into her mind and Rebecca blushed with embarrassment. Under different circumstances she knew she would have allowed herself to act upon the attraction she felt so strongly for him, would have allowed herself to feel the emotions she firmly believed had died along with Philip.

  If only…?

  Deliberately breaking the spell of intimacy, Rebecca turned away. “Now that it has cleared, we can leave.”

  “Wait!” Cameron slid his arm around her, his grasp so powerful she could not move. Slowly, she raised her chin and looked up.

  Rebecca gazed into his eyes, becoming still, as Cameron stared down at her with a smoldering look. His face was inches from her. This time he was going to kiss her. She was certain.

  Her heart fluttered wildly, hopefully.

  “I‘m glad we were stranded,” he said roughly. “I enjoyed our time together.”

  It took a moment to find her voice. “Me too.”

  His right hand lifted and he touched her cheek. His gaze unwavering on hers, he stroked her face, traced her ear. He fingered her earlobe lightly, moving downward to caress the side of her throat. Rebecca heard herself breathing hard as she waited. Waited for him to lower his mouth and press it to hers.

  She leaned closer, lifting her chin, angling her head. Finally, he moved. The light brush of his lips against hers caused a shiver to race down her spine. She ceased to think. His lips were warm, soft, comforting. The tip of her tongue darted out to meet his lips. He pulled it into his mouth, instantly turning the kiss into a deeply intimate connection.

  Their mouths fussed hungrily. The feel of his tongue, the taste of him, the groan of desire he made when he deepened the kiss were emblazoned on her mind. She felt him shudder and knew he was exercising strong control.

  He broke the kiss and she bowed her head, gasping for air, her heart pounding so swiftly it was almost frightening. Silence stretched between them. Not an awkward quiet, but rather a silence filled with unspoken thoughts.

  “The perfect ending to a delightful afternoon,” he finally said.

  “Yes,” she whispered. It was precisely how she felt.

  Rebecca leaned against him, nestling her head into the curve of his neck and shoulder, waiting for the intense pleasure to wane, feeling safe in his embrace. Which was strange, given the strong sexual tension and the circumstances of their acquaintance. Yet he had just proven that she could trust him to be a gentleman, that he would not take unfair advantage of her.

  She snuggled into him. The warmth of his body was intoxicating. He was a large man, a solid force, a man who would fight for what he believed was right, who would protect what he cherished.

  A man she could respect.

  A man she could admire.

  A man she could love.

  A cold fission of fear shivered down Rebecca‘s spine and she knew it had nothing at all to do with the weather.

  Chapter 13

  Charlotte sat in the window seat, her face pressed against the cold glass as she gazed outdoors. Thick flakes fluttered down from a gray sky, quickly coating the frozen grass, blanketing it in white. Yet with each snowflake that fell, her spirits tumbled with it.

  Snow meant she would be trapped, forced to stay inside. Snow meant the others in their party, adults and children alike, would bundle up in warm coats and hats and scarves and gloves and brave the cold to go sledding or ice-skating or engage in a snowball fight. They would build a snowman, or a snowwoman. They would laugh and joke and play and toss themselves gleefully on their backs to make angel patterns in the piles of fluffy white snow.

  They would enter a magical, white world, a place where worries and cares could be forgotten, at least for a brief time. But all Charlotte could do was stay indoors and watch. With envy and regret and a spark of jealousy.

  Snow was slippery. Snow hid the dangerous, almost lethal ice beneath it. As her mother had so often told her, it was difficult enough for Charlotte to get around in the best of circumstances. Why would she endure the indignity of trying to wade inelegantly through a mass of snow, risking grave injury, unless it was absolutely necessary?

  Sighing deeply, Charlotte turned her head away from the wintry scene and gazed across the room. Apollo, who lay sprawled in front of the roaring fire, picked up his head and stared at her. As if sensing her distress, the large dog got to his feet and padded over. He sat beside her, leaning his considerable weight against her le
g. Whimpering, he rested his head on her knee and lifted his soulful brown eyes to her face.

  Charlotte smiled in spite of her sour mood. She petted his head, stroking her hand rhythmically over his silky ears. The action soothed her nerves and delighted Apollo. When she finished, he stood, circled in place several times, then settled at her feet, his nose practically tucked under his tail.

  Charlotte sighed again, envying the dog with his simple needs and easy pleasures. Suddenly, she wanted her old life back. In the past she would not have thought twice about being left behind. It was a foregone conclusion that she would not participate in most winter outings, especially if there was a large group. Due to her crippled leg, her indoor activities were severely limited, her outdoor activities almost nonexistent, especially in this sort of weather.

  Charlotte is too weak, Charlotte is too unsteady on her feet, Charlotte is too delicate, she will surely catch a chill and become gravely ill. She had heard those words in various combinations all her life and had come to accept them as gospel. But being with Daniel Tremaine these many days had altered her view. He expected more from her, and thus she expected more from herself.

  By necessity, she had been content with calm and quiet, had been accepting of her solitary existence. It was not wonderful, nor was it so terribly awful. But now…now she wanted something more. Much more. She wanted excitement and thrills. She wanted intense emotions, be they happy or sad. She wanted to be more of a participant and less of a bystander to life. She wanted laughter and lightness in her heart, along with those special emotions that only a man, a man devoted to her, could provide.

  Pipe dreams, every last one.

  “Oh, there you are,” a male voice called from the doorway. “I‘ve been scouring the house looking for you.”

  Charlotte did not have to turn her head to identify the speaker. “Hello, Daniel.”

  “Nearly everyone is preparing to go outside to enjoy the newly fallen snow. Childish, I know, but it will be fun. I came to find you so we could go out together.”