by Ayles, Abby
“You know very well I would need at least a horse to get to her,” Hannah countered, hands on her hips.
“I know,” Grimshaw said with a wide smile that reached the pools in his chocolate eyes.
Hannah turned and left the room. The wretched brute. She had only gone and asked him to be courteous to his silly rules. Now he had denied her the chance. Well not denied her per se but removed her ability to do so.
His comment that he gave her leave but not a horse was just to poke fun at her. Curling a smile on her own lips like the one Grimshaw wore, she was determined to prove him wrong.
Grimshaw chuckled to himself over the lady while he rang his bell. Calling in the butler he advised the man to send Johnson as soon as he was able to check on the widow.
“I don’t know why you would even do such a thing. The mouth on that girl,” Lady Tara complained.
He ignored her words and much of all the other things she said for the next half hour. Instead he mused over Hannah Jacobson and that little chin she liked to jut out when she was determined to have her way.
“Lord Grimshaw,” Mrs. Brennon said, coming into the room in a fluster. “A word in private, if you please.”
“Of course,” Grimshaw said, coming to a stand and walking the woman out into the hall.
In the thirty seconds it took them to reach the seclusion his mind had already raced to at least a half a dozen reasons why the woman looked so perturbed.
When he turned from shutting the drawing room doors, he never expected the woman to whack him with a handkerchief she had been holding in her hand.
“You wretched man!”
“Ouch,” he flicked back, though it didn’t hurt. “What did I do to deserve being constantly attacked?”
“Well, I don’t know about any other time, but you do deserve it now.”
“Whatever for?”
“For sending off Miss. Jacobson to Concordshire in a blizzard with nothing but her shawl to warm her and her feet to take her.”
“I did no such thing,” Grimshaw countered.
“I tried to stop her,” Mrs. Brennon whimpered into her handkerchief. “She said you gave her leave to go but wouldn’t provide transportation. That she had to walk.”
“I mean I did say that but…”
Mrs. Brennon whacked him again and sobbed, “You wretched man. She will freeze to death.”
If it was any other member of the staff, Grimshaw might have gotten mad at her actions. Seeing how Mrs. Brennon had been a second mother, and really more of a disciplinarian than his own mother, he simply did his best to dart away from her blows.
“I did say those things, but I was just teasing her. She knew that. I never thought she would…”
“Well she did.”
“When?” Grimshaw said, stiffening into all seriousness. If Hannah was out in a blizzard who knew what could happen to her.
It would be easy enough to simply lose one’s way. There was no road to guide her path and the cold and falling snow was sure to disorient her. Lost in the woods at this time of day was never a good choice. Dusk was close at hand and there were sure to be hungry wolves on the prowl after such a long storm like this one.
“Tell Johnson to ready my horse this instant,” Grimshaw ordered.
“Good man,” Mrs. Brennon said, now patting him on the shoulder with her handkerchief arm, though he still flinched for a moment. “I knew you would do the right thing and go after her.”
Mrs. Brennon gave him a peck on the cheek and bustled off to see that things were made ready for the earl.
“Where are you going?” Lady Tara said, peeking out into the hall.
Grimshaw would have liked to tell her that nothing was more irritating to him than a woman so nosy as to eavesdrop on a conversation she was purposefully excluded from. He didn’t have the time for that though. Every second wasted could be another that Hannah was chased by wolves or froze to death lost in the woods.
“I need to go see to something. I will be back late tonight.”
“Is it that governess? She does seem to cause quite a bit of trouble,” Lady Tara remarked, clearly irritated by the fact that Grimshaw was leaving her side for another woman.
Grimshaw clenched his fist and did his best to steady his breath. It would be uncalled for to yell at the horrible woman, especially since they were still trapped at Brighton Abby.
He turned and smiled as softly as he could to the woman, though she took a step back so Grimshaw guessed he hadn’t done a very good job of it.
“I will do my best to be back as soon as I can,” he said as softly as he could manage and turned to leave before the horrid woman could find a response.
Chapter Thirty
Luckily in the time it took him to run to his room, dress in his warmest winter clothes, and make his way to the stables, Johnson had the sense to saddle his fastest steed.
The black stallion was neighing at the chance to leave the confines of the stall after days trapped inside.
Grimshaw mounted in one swift motion and gave the animal its head. He had to admit to himself it did feel good to break from the confines they both had been trapped in these last three days.
The snow was falling fairly heavy now and between the blurring vision, the dark clouds, and the loss of the little light there was from the setting sun, Grimshaw only hoped that someone else had happened upon Hannah and helped her along her way.
It was a short ride into Concordshire, five miles at the most, and any other day he wouldn’t have cared that Hannah had gone on foot.
As the steed beneath him started to slow after the first mile fighting against the thick snow, his worry increased. He didn’t think he would make it this far without coming upon her.
What had started at a breakneck speed had now dwindled down to a struggling trot for the black stallion.
“Come on boy, we can make it,” Grimshaw said encouragingly to the horse.
Grimshaw strained his eyes as far as he could see. It wasn’t much in the darkening whiteout. The steam that wafted from every breath he or the horse took only seemed to obscure his sight more.
Finally he leaned forward, sure he had caught sight of a billowing fabric.
“Hannah,” he called out against the wind.
He was sure that the fabric shifted again between the flurry of snow. Calling to the stallion he urged him forward as fast as the horse would go.
It was only a few short minutes between spotting Hannah and finally coming up to her, but to Grimshaw it seemed an eternity. She had her head bent against the blowing snow with a shawl wrapped tight around her head and body.
“Are you mad, woman?” Grimshaw rebuked her, bringing the horse next to Hannah.
She looked up in surprise. Perhaps she had merely thought him another traveler in this awful weather.
“Lord Grimshaw,” she said with surprise and then jutted out her chin defiantly, though he was sure he could see a quivering to her lips. “I told you, I must see Joanna is safe and taken care of.”
“And you freezing halfway to her cottage will help the woman how? You are walking in snow halfway up your skirt. Did you actually think you could make it the whole way like this?”
“Yes,” she retorted stubbornly.
Grimshaw reached down a hand to her and she looked at it, puzzled.
“I will not go with you, sir. I am determined. You cannot sway me.”
“Woman, you either give me your hand and seat yourself astride this horse or I will be forced to pick you up and put you on the beast myself,” Grimshaw said with a stern tone.
She hesitated only a moment before reaching out and handing him a gloved hand.
He scoffed at it. It was the thin cotton white gloves she would wear to a Sunday service. No doubt the only ones she had. He was sure the tips of her fingers must be blue.
Holding her firmly, she placed one foot in the stirrup and he helped her to sit on the steed in front of him.
He reached forward and put
the reins between his teeth while he removed his own gloves.
“Put these on before you lose a finger,” he said.
“But your hands will freeze,” Hannah countered.
He wrapped one arm tight around her waist and gripped the reins with the other. He was satisfied to feel that at least her center was relatively warm.
“It is a short trip to Widow McCarthy’s from here. I am sure my hands will be fine till then,” he said against her ear.
He felt her lean back more into his arms and he relished the feel of her against his chest. It didn’t escape his notice that she was in fact shivering and soaked from her skirts down.
“You are going to take me the rest of the way?” she asked with a little chatter to it.
“Of course I am. I promised you I would have the widow checked on. Why could you not just wait?”
“What if she is freezing to death in there? I had no idea when you would get around to it. You were very occupied with your guests,” she countered as the horse started its trot.
“I am a man of my word,” he said gravely.
“I know you are,” she reassured him. “I just didn’t know how long it would take. My conscience couldn’t wait another moment.”
“Clearly,” Grimshaw said with a scoff. “I believe you are by far the most stubborn woman I have ever met.”
“I am sure you mean that as an insult, but I thank you for it. I am fairly certain it was my stubborn nature that saw me through Hendrick’s Preparatory.”
“I actually meant it as a compliment,” Grimshaw replied against her ear.
They made the rest of the journey in relative silence. Hannah was relieved to have his warmth at her back. In all honesty she had been cursing herself for being such a fool to think she could walk to the cottage.
She saw no hope for moving forward or turning back when the black heaving steed came to her side. She would have to remember to find a way to truly thank Lord Grimshaw for coming to her aid.
Right now, however, she was quite content relishing in the feel of his chest against her back and his strong hand spread against her waist. He kept a sure grip on her.
She would never admit to Lord Grimshaw that she was an inexperienced rider, having never had the chance to do much in her life. Add the fact that she could no longer feel her fingers or toes and was sharing the horse with another rider and the whole matter became that much more dubious.
Luckily Lord Grimshaw seemed to know the stallion well. He maneuvered and spoke to the animal and surprisingly to Hannah the horse would obey his spoken orders.
Hannah could scarcely keep herself from shivering right off her seat when the cottage finally came into view.
She had a moment of relief at seeing the safety of shelter but it was quickly overshadowed. In the time it took them to finish the journey the sun had properly set and other than the little light reflecting off the snow there was none to be seen. A single candle alone shone in one window but no glow of a fire, or smoke protruding from the chimney.
The snow had settled down to a light falling and the wind had finely died down, giving Hannah a better view than when she had tried to walk herself.
“Grimshaw, look, she had no fire. I do hope Grannie is alright,” Hannah worried and willed the horse to progress through the drifts faster.
She barely waited till she got to the gate before slipping off the animal. Grimshaw luckily was aware enough of her desires to use his hand to steady her on the way down.
Hannah took a sharp breath in as she sunk back into the snow. It hadn’t seemed that long ago but her body had already forgotten the feeling of dragging through it.
She made the final steps up through Grannie’s small garden and to the front door.
She knocked on the door, praying that Grannie wasn’t there. Perhaps Mr. McCarthy had been considerate of his mother and come and taken her back to his home to wait out the snow.
The sound of Grannie’s voice inside told her otherwise.
“Oh, my dear. I’m afraid I can’t open the door,” she called.
“Don’t worry, Grannie. We’ll get you out,” she called back.
With her hands she began to dig at the drift that had piled up against the cottage door. Grisham had only taken the time to tie up the horse before he too came to join her work. With his large bare hands scooping away at the snow the job was done in no time and the door was pulled open by the earl.
“Oh, my dear,” Grannie said again all in a fuss, “you shouldn’t ‘ave come. Look at you frozen to the bone. Come in, come in. I have no fire to warm you by, but we will find a way.”
“Do you have wood outside?” Lord Grimshaw asked.
Grannie looked up as if she had noticed the earl’s presence for the first time.
“Why yes, m’lord. It’s out back against the shed where the two goats are waiting out the storm. There’s a door to the back of the cottage too, but I’m afraid it’s stuck.”
“I’ll see to the wood and the door,” Grimshaw said and nodded to Hannah, “You go inside now and at least remove what you can of your wet things.”
“Wait,” Hannah called as he turned to leave. “Take these back then,” she said, removing his large fur-lined gloves from her hands.
He took them thankfully and put them on before retrieving the horse again and making his way to the back of the cottage.
Hannah came into the darkened house and her heart sank as low as her icy feet. Though they had shelter from the wind it was still ice cold in the cottage. Hannah watched her breath puff out in little clouds as Grannie moved her into the main room to remove shoes and stockings.
It didn’t take the earl long to unstick the other door and begin his journey in and out of the house with the wood. Hannah made quick work of starting a fire with the fuel he provided.
For the first little bit all worked quietly, not saying a word to the other. The tasks took too much effort to add conversation to it.
But once the fire was going strong, more wood than could be burned in a week was stacked by the hearth and all parties were inside with wet outer clothing removed to dry, Hannah found her tongue again.
“How long have you been like this?” she asked Grannie.
“Oh, just yesterday and today,” the old woman waved off.
“Why didn’t Matthew come and help you?” Grimshaw asked abruptly.
“Oh my Matty,” Grannie waved off in her usual way. “He is a busy boy. I was sure he would be by soon.”
“You would have frozen before he came,” Hannah told her.
“I’m tough, I can assure you that,” she said with her round face smiling. “Oh the kettle is ready,” she added, getting up from her seat.
Just as she reached it over the fire it started to sound its whistle. Grimshaw looked to Hannah, surprised that Grannie would know before it sounded.
Hannah just smiled at him. She was sure that soon he would get to know Grannie as she did, including all her little idiosyncrasies like that.
“Now warm yourself inside and out,” Grannie said, pouring them each a cup of tea.
Hannah took it gratefully and gulped it, not caring that it burned on its way down. Grimshaw watched her over his own tea cup with a wary eye.
Grannie went to fussing around more to produce some kind of meal for them to eat, despite Hannah’s insistence that she needn’t bother.
When Hannah set her cup down, Grimshaw did the same and reached forward to take Hannah’s hands in his. She was surprised how warm they were. Hers were still ice cold.
He turned them over in the glow of the firelight and inspected each and every finger.
“What are you doing?” Hannah asked barely above a whisper.
“I am inspecting you for frostbite,” Grimshaw said with a smile on his lips. “Lucky for you, I don’t see any blue fingers.”
Leaning forward, he pulled the hand he held up to his lips and kissed the tips of her fingers gently. She was mesmerized by the action.
; “Shall I check your toes now?” Grimshaw said with his smiling lips still brushing her fingertips.
She flushed and pulled away, “You most certainly may not.”
She pretended offense but knew she couldn’t hide the blush his teasing had produced.
“I suppose we will have to stay the night,” Grimshaw said with a rush of air as he looked about the small accommodations.
“We will?” Hannah said, surprised.
“Well, I have no desire to ride back home in the dark, with wolves around,” he added for good measure.
“Wolves?” Hannah asked as if the thought had never occurred to her.
He nodded.
“Oh, don’t mind the wolves,” Grannie said, coming into the room with a plate full of cold meat pies. “They don’t bother you as long as you don’t bother them.”
Grannie was always the optimist, Hannah decided.
“You are welcome to stay the night, however. The clothes will need the time to dry anyway. I wouldn’t be sendin’ your lordship back out in wet things.”
“I’m grateful for your hospitality,” Grimshaw said sincerely as he took up a slice of pie.
“There is only one room upstairs, though. Hannah and I can take the pallet here just like when sweet Lady Caroline came to visit me,” Grannie said and Hannah nodded her agreement.
“Nonsense. I will not deprive a widow of her bed. You and Hannah can have the room,” he said, looking up to the stairs that led to a single loft room. “I am quite able to sleep on a pallet for one night. I dare say I will have the better of the deal anyway with the fire right at my side to keep me warm.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Sebastian did sleep soundly next to the fire. He may have been the Earl of Grimshaw but he was not averse to hard work or less than pristine conditions.
Twice he got up during the night to add to the fire. He wanted to make sure the heat was able to carry through the whole house.
Grimshaw was woken by a sight he had not seen for some time, the sun shining through the window. At last it seemed the blizzard had passed.
He was relieved to know that they wouldn’t be making the journey home in the storm. With the breaking of the clouds, he hoped the snow would start to quickly melt as well, making the journey all the better.
