Hell Hath Frozen Over

by Anders, Annabelle

  “We’re to travel on this… contraption?” How she managed to inject so many emotions into one sentence, he couldn’t say. Shock, offended indignation, and the one he’d been hoping for… anticipation.

  “It’s not as though we’re traveling to London, your grace.” He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

  Elegant hands fluttered to the top buttons of her coat. Thomas bit down harder when she licked her lips.

  “Have you never ridden in a curricle, Duchess?” The sheltered lives of nabobs never failed to surprise him. Had her husband not ever taken her for romantic picnics in the springtime? Had her sons not ever shown off a new vehicle to their mother?

  She was shaking her head side to side. “Lucas had one. But no.” She stepped around to the back, seemingly examining the integrity of what he planned to carry her away on top of. “I’ve never ridden in one.”

  Without giving her any more opportunities to change her mind, Thomas stepped forward and placed one hand on her slender waist. “Put one foot here, Duchess.” He pointed to a narrow ledge a little over two feet off the ground. When he moved to assist her, she instinctively dropped one hand upon his shoulder.

  Her clean scent carried a hint of rose. He’d never appreciated flowery perfume on women before. It had always seemed too strong, overpowering even. But not on the duchess. On her, it was perfect. Subtle. Restrained.

  He couldn’t help leaning in for a second whiff as he lifted her the rest of the way to the seat.

  She gasped slightly when he did so. She didn’t cry out though. Or complain. She did all things with dignity.

  Which gave him cause to wonder…

  Rounding the vehicle, he dismissed the groomsman and then alighted the vehicle himself.

  He wasn’t sure what he wanted to accomplish today, other than inspect the property. “You’ll want to hold on, Duchess.” He glanced over. “It’s a long way to the cobbles below.”

  God, he loved the look of indecision on her face.

  “Hold on to what?” She reached around the seat with her gloved hands. She would find no handles.

  “To me.” Without giving her the chance to argue, he took up the reins and with a flick of the wrists, and an encouraging “heyo,” set the vehicle in motion. One slender hand grasped his forearm. After a moment, it tucked around his elbow, pulling its person closer to his side.

  He inhaled her scent again. Who would have ever guessed one could have such fun with a duchess?

  “I could have borrowed a carriage, but I thought we ought to take advantage of this fine weather.” The weather would be a safe topic for now. “Shouldn’t take but less than an hour to make the journey.

  “I’m surprised you’re interested in such a property. You’re quite certain you wish to settle down? Doesn’t your business take you out of the country more often than not?”

  Thomas watched the road straight ahead, considering his answer. “I wouldn’t think to settle so close to Cecily’s home. She travels up here a great deal. I went riding with Nottingham last summer while we were here for the house party. Apparently, my daughter worries for me. Worries whenever I am out of the country. We came across Talon’s Gate, and the idea struck me that if she thought I was tucked away in a grand estate much of the time, she mightn’t worry so much. It’s far enough away that she needn’t know whenever I leave. Close to her friends so that she might visit me on occasion.” He shrugged. “It seemed a good idea at the time.”

  Whereupon the duchess laughed. Bell like sounds of mirth escaped those damnable lips of hers.

  He’d not heard her laugh even once since they’d been acquainted.

  “I’d wish to know what humor you’ve found in my predicament, Duchess.” He shook his head side to side.

  “Oh, Mr. Findlay.” She wiped what might have been a tear from her eye. “Perhaps I oughtn’t find your plan so amusing. It’s just… You are… such a man!”

  “And you are only now noticing this about me?” He’d tease her for making such a statement. “I’ve known you to be a woman, a lady, since the first moment I laid eyes upon you.”

  Untouchable.

  Distant.

  Impossible.

  And yet here she was, sitting up beside him on top of a high-flying curricle. He eased the tension upon the reins and the pair increased their speed.

  She clutched his arm tighter.

  She’d not acknowledge his statement, he knew. She’d keep some of that respectability tightly wrapped around herself.

  But she could enjoy the speed, the wind, the freedom of riding along an open road in a well-sprung vehicle. After less than a mile, he eased the horses back to a brisk walk. A curve turned the road just up ahead, and he’d never put her in any real danger. He’d not intended to scare her, just to shake a few cobwebs loose.

  Was she smiling now? Did the hints of her earlier laughter dance upon those lips? He couldn’t help stealing a glimpse of her beside him.

  Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks glowed pink. Why was it that society placed such value upon youth? To see a lady such as her, a lady who has known the full spectrum of life, thrill at something so mundane as racing along the road… He had to swallow hard to clear himself of whatever strange emotion lurked within him.

  “I’d hazard a guess you’ve never traveled so fast.” He teased.

  She shook her head beside him. “You’ll be the death of us both.” But the joviality remained in her voice. She wasn’t thinking of the deaths she’d experienced in her life.

  “Ye of little faith, Duchess.” He held the reins with one hand for only a moment so that he could reassure her with his other. She was clutching his arm with both her hands now. He patted them and then secured the reins again. “You’ve nothing to worry over.”

  She sat up straight beside him, presumably remembering all the things she thought to find distressing. Did she feel guilty for her laughter? For enjoyment?

  He wished she’d talk to him more. But for her damnable dignity. She’d likely reminded herself who he was.

  The dizziness that engulfed her was more inside her head than her body. She’d loved the sensation of speeding along the road, relished the breeze caressing, and then whipping past her face.

  Who was she?

  And she’d laughed at him. At his silly notion of alleviating his daughter’s worries with the purchase of an estate. Did he not understand that the women at home always fretted over the safety of their loved ones?

  And yet he’d told her not to worry.

  In that moment, she wished she could talk with him. She wished she could talk to anyone about the constant fear burning a hole inside her heart.

  But she could not. Of course, she could not! She couldn’t tell a soul. She could barely articulate the words enough to contemplate them in her own thoughts.

  “Everyone has something to worry about,” she said instead. He could laugh and then race his horses along the road as though the only moment that mattered was now.

  “Of course, we do. That’s why we need to set our concerns aside. Put them in their place from time to time.”

  She shook her head at his foolishness.

  “You don’t think I worry, Duchess?” His tone had lost some of the humor he’d had for most of the ride.

  Of course, he worried. She hadn’t meant to imply any such thing. But his affairs were so very different. He wouldn’t understand.

  “You have your business to contend with, I imagine.”

  And then the curricle jerked as he pulled to the side of the road, bringing their mad dash to an almost startling halt.

  When he shifted on the seat to meet her gaze, his expression had turned serious.

  “I’ve a daughter. One who has experienced the bitter rejection of most of society, despite her status as a countess. I have a grandson, one who stands to inherit an Earldom, despite the blood of a laborer flowing through his veins. And yes, I have my business. Hundreds of men, families, depending upon its success for t
heir livelihood. Would you say I ought to mull over it constantly? Much as I have my entire life? Is there never to be a time to simply enjoy? If I do not grasp it now, then when? I’m no longer a young man, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “You might be older than me, but for a man that means nothing.” His argument tore some unknown anguish out of her. “A woman…” She started and turned to stare across the field. “A woman such as me is already past her prime. What is she to do with her life if she isn’t a mother? Or a grandmother? When all she has left to do is wait to die?”

  God, she sounded so maudlin. She ought to be whipped for expressing such thoughts.

  “For God’s sake, woman, what in perdition goes on in that noble head of yours?” And then he reached up and turned her chin so that she was forced to meet his gaze.

  Loretta would have pulled away, but that such a motion would have her tumbling onto the ground, what felt like ten feet away! Instead, she tightened her muscles. She pinched her lips. He was manhandling her as she ought to have expected.

  Only she couldn’t keep her gaze from the intensity of his eyes. Eyes, the color of the sky. Not on a summer day but on a day like to today, when a thin veil of clouds covered most of the blue. Cold blue.

  Only they burned into her now.

  “If you could only see what I do. If you could only see the world outside of that tower you’ve built around yourself.” He shook his head slightly, as though confused.

  For a moment, she thought that he was going to attempt to kiss her. She turned her face away from him without waiting to find out. She’d not been kissed in ages. In years. Not on the mouth. Not by any person with romantic designs.

  Prescott had never kissed her on the mouth.

  Oh, he’d loved her. In his own way.

  Loretta plucked at the repair that had been made to her glove, waiting for him to urge the horse onto the road once again.

  “Are you going to dwell in it forever?” His voice grumbled and she felt hot breath near her ear.

  She didn’t know what he was talking about. She didn’t know really.

  “Are we going to this property or not?” She refused to answer his question, keeping her stare directed at the road ahead. She could not look at him. Her entire body thrummed with sensations she’d thought long dead, and they terrified her.

  He remained still, and she wondered if he was like to turn around and take them back to Eden’s Court. Perhaps she should demand he do just that.

  After a moment, he shifted in the seat beside her and then urged the animals to pull them back onto the road.

  Loretta didn’t understand why the urge to cry bothered her now. She was not a girl! She was a woman past her fortieth year! She’d been married since the turn of the century for heaven’s sake.

  But when it came to men. Especially one such as Mr. Thomas.

  She was as naïve as a debutante.

  As they drove the next several miles, Loretta realized that she should not have come. Mr. Thomas did not live by the same rules she adhered to. He disrupted the fragile equilibrium she’d managed to find.

  She wished she could ask him to turn around. To take her back to Eden’s Court. To take her back home.

  What had she been thinking?

  When he turned down a long drive and jumped down from the vehicle to open a set of elegant iron gates, she had been determined to keep the inspection as short and efficient as possible. She’d not allow him to goad her again.

  He must have obtained keys from the solicitor as he had no trouble unlocking and then removing a set of long, heavy chains.

  It felt oddly stirring to watch him do for himself, what her own husband had always relied upon others to do. Mr. Thomas did not struggle with the heavy gate. No, his muscles rippled beneath his jacket as he hefted it out of the dirt almost effortlessly and then swung it to the side of the drive.

  When he was finished, he removed his hat for just a moment and brushed one hand through his hair. But then he caught her watching him.

  At the taunting gleam in his gaze, Loretta lifted her chin.

  She wouldn’t cower but neither of them said a word to one another as he climbed back up beside her.

  “Heyo.” He charged the horses forward.

  They wound through thick trees, a forest, in fact. Not so dense, however, that she didn’t catch a glimpse of a lake hidden behind it. In a few places, she identified paths cut out, and occasional sculptures sat whimsically along the walks.

  But none of that prepared her for the charm of the house itself. Although built in a Georgian style, the two-story manor lacked the symmetry often found in the sparse designs. Long windows lined one side, whereas, the opposite site was composed of smaller windows, indicating the two stories within. Bare vines climbed around the columns to the eaves above the main entrance, dangling over the U-shaped steps.

  “Was built in 1801,” Mr. Findlay announced when he drew the curricle to a halt and then jumped off his side. “Been empty for near on a decade though.”

  Loretta forgot about her annoyance with him, instead looking upward and spying small angel statues near some top windows, while he assisted her down to the cobbles.

  “It’s charming.” Her voice came out more breathless than she’d intended. What with his hands about her waist still, him hovering closely.

  Her legs wobbled at first. Likely due to the long drive. She steadied herself a moment before stepping away and out from beneath his hands.

  “But this isn’t just a little country house, Mr. Findlay. It’s a grand estate. Surely, you wouldn’t purchase something like this only to leave it empty?”

  His answer came in the form of a grunt.

  He deftly unhitched the horses and walked them toward a few out buildings, leaving Loretta standing alone to examine the exterior.

  The only sound on the estate was of leaves scattering as a gust of wind blew through the trees.

  Loretta shivered. The two of them were so very much alone here.

  But the estate appealed to her. She imagined it beckoned even more in the springtime, when flowers would blossom where dead plants currently took up space.

  She jumped when Thomas appeared at her side again.

  As though he’d not temporarily abandoned her, he climbed the steps and addressed the locks on the door. “I’d put some servants in it, I imagine.” He groused a bit as the key seemed to stick. When it finally clicked, he unhooked the latch and looked over his shoulder. “You coming, Duchess?”

  She at first wanted to chastise him for his lack of manners. A gentleman would escort her inside. But the gleam in his eyes gave away that he knew this.

  He’d done it on purpose.

  Irritating sod.

  Loretta lifted her skirts and climbed the steps herself. When she arrived at the landing, he did, in fact, take her by the elbow and guide her inside.

  “It’s not a mansion,” he pointed out. “But big enough for large gatherings. And Cecily’s dog. Have you met Cecily’s dog, Edmond? Damned near the size of a horse.”

  Loretta chuckled, charmed despite herself.

  She had seen his daughter’s dog on one occasion. A terrifying beast which did naught but wag his tail when strangers approached.

  “And all those grandchildren.” She reminded him. When had she found her humor again? “Draw back some of these drapes, Mr. Findlay, so that we may have a proper look.” Although most furnishings were covered with sheets, what she could see seemed to have been kept in good repair.

  He did as she said, revealing a delightful view of the park in front and at the same time illuminating the intricate molding around the ceiling and a bronze chandelier, detailed with cherubs and angels, hanging in the center of the room. It ought to be gaudy, but it seemed to fit the house perfectly.

  “It feels like a home.” She spoke the words without thinking and glanced across the room to where he stood to see if he would laugh at her.

  Only he wasn’t laughing.

 
; “And what does a home feel like, Duchess?” He wasn’t mocking her.

  “A place to rest, to celebrate, to mourn… and a place to love.” Her breath stalled in her throat. Why had she said that?

  “I’ve never really known a proper home.” He ran one hand across the fireplace mantel and then brushed it with his other to remove the dust he’d picked up. “I’ve rested wherever I could lay my head. I’ve celebrated victories in foreign lands, and I’ve mourned in a broken down hovel when my wife died.”

  “You loved Cecily.”

  He smiled at that. “I did at that. Kept her with me as long as I could. Until I learned the importance of a proper governess to train her up right.”

  “You did well with her.” Loretta knew of the young girl’s trials that she’d faced. She’d come out of them with her head held high and her dignity intact. Couldn’t ask much more of a lady.

  “Has Eden’s Court always been a proper home?” he asked impertinently, once again reminding her of his lack of decorum.

  But then she considered the question. She’d rested there, yes, celebrated. Definitely mourned. And she’d loved her boys with all her heart.

  But something had always been missing. She knew, and yet she didn’t know. Prescott had loved her. He’d not been in love with her though.

  But there had been love.

  “It has as long as I’ve known it.” But he’d heard her hesitation and raised one questioning brow—which she chose to ignore.

  “Let’s see the rest of the house. Is there more than one salon?” This, she felt was important. A lady required a place for guests to wait but also a room to find privacy. One’s bedchamber was often overrun by maids and whatnot.

  He led her to the second salon, into a formal dining room, and another room where one could either practice fencing or host a ball. After a brief perusal of the kitchens, they climbed the servants’ stairs to the second floor.

  The staircase was narrow and winding. When she stumbled at one turn, Mr. Findlay placed his hands upon her waist and did not remove them no matter how quickly she climbed the remaining stairs.

  When they reached the landing, he took her by the elbow and guided her through a few of the rooms. They didn’t reach the master suites until last.