by Sahara Kelly
With those words, he put her down, grabbed a handful of snow and slapped her buttocks with it.
“Oooh…”
Surprised, chilled and aroused all at once, she grabbed her own handful of snow and threw it at him.
He danced easily aside, avoiding her attack.
And that was all it took to rouse the competitive instinct in Prudence. For the next few minutes they engaged in an intense and serious snowball fight, dancing back and forth, ducking, leaping and generally behaving in a quite childish manner, all the while as naked as the day they were born.
When at last the moonlight dimmed and flakes of snow began to drift silently down on them, Prudence called a halt.
“Enough.” She raised a hand in the classic fencer’s gesture of defeat. “I surrender. I am now completely made of ice. Take me inside and thaw me out, lest I turn to a statue before dawn and melt in the sun.”
He nodded and grabbed her blanket, enfolding them both in it as they made their way back to the welcome heat of the little shelter.
Prudence headed for the fire and stacked more wood on it, waiting for the heat to ease the burning cold in her feet and legs. She glanced at Reid as he closed and secured the door. “We must be insane.”
He smiled at her, bringing a smile to her own lips. “Probably. But isn’t life wonderful with a touch of insanity? We’ve made memories here tonight. And some time, many years from now, something will jar those memories and we’ll laugh once more and shake our heads.”
She shivered as her body began to react to her outdoor adventures. “I’m sure you’re right. And on that day, I will also recall that my feet were so cold they burned.”
He sat near her in front of the fire and took her feet into his hands, rubbing them. “I’m sorry Pru. But it was fun…”
“Yes, it was.” She had to agree.
He looked like some ancient warrior, wrapped in the oldest blanket, his arms glowing in the firelight and the muscles flexing as he massaged her feet and ankles. She stared, thinking that here was the memory she’d cling to in the future. A brief instant of simple pleasure in another person, shared and returned, both erotic and loving.
Such memories were as scarce as hen’s teeth. She would cherish this one forever.
“Prudence…”
Her attention recalled by his voice, she glanced at his face. “Yes?”
“Marry me.”
“What?” she gasped, whipping her toes away from those all-too-clever hands of his. “Are you out of your mind?”
“No.” He looked quite at ease, as if proposing marriage were something one did every afternoon at three. “I would like to spend the rest of my life with you. I would like to have children with you. I would like you to be my Mistletoe Marchioness because I don’t want to be the first man to break the Chillendale tradition in three or four hundred years. And also because that damn wreath is extremely uncomfortable and I don’t wish to suffer alone.”
“Hmm.” His tone was rational, his arguments logical. But it was all too fast, too…unexpected. “I am very honored by your proposal, Mr. Chillendale.”
He grinned. “As honored as a naked woman could be under the circumstances.” He stared pointedly at her breasts.
They pointed back. “Well, yes. Quite.” The blush crept over her cheeks. “Don’t distract me.”
“Sorry. Please go on.” He moved next to her, brushing her thigh with his arousal. “You were saying?”
She sighed. “Damn you, Reid. Take me to bed again…”
He gathered her into his arms once more and she found herself on the bed, this time straddling his body. “As you requested, my dear. However, since I’ve been doing quite a bit of the work, I thought perhaps this time, you might like to put some effort into it.”
Her lips twitched against a grin. “Oh, that’s what you thought?”
“I did indeed.” He shifted his hips, to make sure she understood.
“And you think it’s my turn to…put a little effort into it, I think you said?”
He nodded. “Mm hmm.”
“Ahh.” She wriggled backward a little, feeling the warmth of the fire blazing on her spine. It was a wonderfully sensual experience—the fire behind her, the man beneath her and the eyes devouring her.
“Well, let me see now. What would constitute effort…” She reached for his cock with both hands.
And then lowered her head.
Reid squawked as her cool lips met his hot hard flesh, but then she began to move and the only sounds he made from that point on were moans, groans and a final shout of satisfaction.
Prudence sat back with a satisfied smile and licked her lips. “How’s that for effort, Mr. Chillendale?”
Chapter Nine
Given their nocturnal activities, it wasn’t surprising that Reid slept soundly for several hours and didn’t wake until cool air wafted around his bare backside.
With a groan he turned over, grabbed more blanket and reached for Prudence.
Who wasn’t there.
This, thought Reid, was getting to be a bit annoying. He was going to have some strong words with her the next time he saw her about this nasty habit of disappearing on him. And after a night such as the one they’d just shared—well, it was downright unacceptable.
He sat up, stretched and sighed. It was light, a bright snow white light, that told of the storm he’d seen in the clouds. He hoped the horse was there, or had she taken it?
He shook his head. It was a good thing he was completely bewitched by her or he would have taken her over his knee at that moment. Which thought led to other thoughts and even more thoughts…
He groaned, ignored his growing arousal and slid from the bed into the cool air. Since he was planning on leaving, there was no need for more wood, and he dressed hurriedly, relishing the warmth of his breeches and his socks.
At least she’d left his cloak. He grabbed it and left, securing the door and happy to find his mount where he’d left it, snow-free and apparently undisturbed by the fresh covering of white stuff outside its shelter.
Trying to find Prudence’s tracks was futile, of course. There were indentations around the door, but it was impossible to tell how large, how many or if there had been horses. A tracker might be able to distinguish something useful, but Reid wasn’t that talented.
He untied the reins and mounted, turning the horse for home. And all the way there, he wondered if she’d left to preserve appearances and get to the inn before dawn, or if she’d left because she was done with him.
And who the hell was there to help her? Because even she, strong and determined woman that she was, couldn’t walk that distance in snow.
All questions to which he had no answers, which frustrated him, confused him and—though he hated to admit it—scared the hell out of him.
She had crashed into his life like a fireball from the heavens and turned it upside down. They’d spent so little time together, but those few hours had been filled with the most extraordinary passions. And in those few hours, Reid had lost his heart.
Prudence was the woman he’d waited for. The only one who could drive him out of his comfortable existence and show him what life could be when one loved the right person.
He lowered his head as his horse ambled toward the lights of Chillendale Hall. He’d really mucked things up.
It got worse.
The household was awake when he arrived, and by the looks of things had been up all night.
Bunbury caught sight of him and, forgetting himself, rushed over with the clear intent of hugging him.
Reid backed into the wall, holding out a hand. “I’m quite fine, Bunbury. Don’t fuss.”
Bunbury straightened and frowned. “Fuss? Mr. Reid, there’s been no end of a fuss. You never came home last night and nobody knew where you were. My Lord is about to send out a search party and I doubt your Lady mother slept a wink. So don’t talk to me about fuss. You are their only son.” He took a breath. “Pardon my imperti
nence, but it’s time you remembered that.” He spun on his heel and stalked off.
Reid blinked. He’d just been soundly reprimanded by the butler.
And, sadly, he was well aware that he deserved it.
*~~*~~*
“Well. The prodigal son returns.”
Reid gritted his teeth as he walked in to breakfast and found his parents already there. His father was seated at the end of the table, giving him the raised eyebrow.
His mother was filling her plate, but she put it down when she saw him and rushed to hug him. “Sometimes I swear you really are a devil sent to plague me, Reid Chillendale.” She continued to hug him as he hugged her back. Then she kissed his cheek and let him go. “Do that again and I will take the carpet beater to your backside and make you regret it.”
“Mama, Father…I am sorry. Really. I had no intention of causing a fuss.” He shot a glance at Bunbury who stood silently in the corner, doing his best to not obviously pay attention.
“Well you did.” His mother stalked back to the server. “We were at our wits end.”
“I am of a mind to mention that I’m nearly thirty years old, you know.” He picked up a plate. “And I’m fairly sensible and able to look after myself.”
“We know that, lad.” His father leaned back in his chair and sipped tea. “But I am of a mind to mention that you’re our only child. And for some unknown reason, your mother and I are rather fond of you. Therefore, when you vanish into a snowstorm and we hear nothing for an entire night…well, we worry.” He shrugged. “You’ll always be our son and we’ll always worry. That’s how Chillendales are.”
Guilt washed over Reid. “I suppose I forgot that. And I shouldn’t have. It was wrong of me. But…”
“Here it comes.” His mother sat with her meal. “You may eat, and then we shall dismiss Bunbury and you will tell us everything.”
Oh dear Lord. I don’t think so.
Most of the meal was conducted in silence as his father perused the morning paper, which was almost a week old, Reid noted. His mother read what little mail had arrived earlier, courtesy of a local lad who needed the extra shilling for his mum. It was a large coin for a simple service, and the lad rode a donkey, but the weather was inclement and the Chillendales like to reward diligence.
After an appropriate period of enjoying breakfast and being quite terribly polite to each other, Lady Jocelyn told Bunbury he could clear and that they wouldn’t need anything else for a while.
Reid grabbed the teapot and the unfinished plate of toast.
“Shall I leave the jam, sir?”
“You’d better. I’m going to need additional sustenance, I fear.”
“Just so, sir.” Bunbury departed and Reid could have sworn he heard a snicker.
Turning to face his parents, Reid observed two intent faces, staring at him, waiting for him to speak.
He straightened in his chair and bought himself a little time by topping up his tea.
“Right then.” He took a breath. “What do you want to know?”
“Good God, son. Has a night away from home robbed you of your wits? We want to know where the hell you were.” His father frowned awfully.
“And who you were with.” His mother wasn’t frowning, but she was giving him that look. The one that froze his intestines to this day.
So he laid his hands on the table. He couldn’t prevaricate, or hedge the questions. Prudence was going to be part of his life if he had his way, so announcing a fait accompli at this point would be wrong, both to her because she had yet to agree, and to his parents who wouldn’t appreciate being presented with a daughter-in-law without any warning.
“Very well. It all began when I got hit on the head with that branch…”
“I knew it.” His mother flew up from her chair and rushed to Reid. “You’re losing consciousness, aren’t you? Having blackouts? And seeing things? I felt you were acting strangely, darling. Why didn’t you say something?” She cradled his forehead. “Do you have a fever?”
“Mother.” He took her hands and led her back to her chair. “Stop flying into the boughs over my health. I’m quite well.”
She snorted. “That’s yet to be determined.”
“Let the lad talk, Joss. We won’t know anything more than we do now if you keep interrupting.”
Reid shot a glance of gratitude to his father. “To continue, that night in the snow, I met a woman.”
“Aha.” His father looked smug. “Knew there was a female behind it. Didn’t I say so, Joss? Didn’t I?” He poked his wife in the arm.
Lady Jocelyn lifted her nose and sniffed, ignoring her husband’s gloating comment. “Go on, Reid.”
“I met her again the next day, and last night you met her.”
“Lady Eldridge.” His mother tilted her head. “The incredibly beautiful Lady Eldridge. Why did I not see it?”
“Because Reid’s been around plenty of beautiful women,” his father observed. “He’s never disappeared with any of them before.”
“You disappeared with her?”
“Well we didn’t disappear…as in vanish, of course…”
“Reid…” His mother waved her teaspoon threateningly. “If you were an egg I’d have cracked you by now…”
He sighed. “Very well. Yes, I was with Lady Prudence last night.”
“All night.”
“Yes. All night.”
There was an odd muffled sort of noise from his father. “Well, lad, you’ve got good taste. I’ll give you that.”
Lady Jocelyn forgot herself enough to lean forward and thwack her own head on the breakfast table. Twice.
“Mother?”
“I don’t know whether to throw you out of the house forever, box your ears or tell you to immediately go and make sure you marry her.” She rubbed her forehead. “And I think I have a headache.”
“Well stop banging it into the table then, woman.” Sir Rodney leaned over and grabbed her hand. “It’s not the end of the world.”
“It might be the end of the Chillendales if word of this gets out.” Lady Jocelyn turned to Reid. “How could you? You know how small a place Little Chillendale is. One hint of gossip and it spreads like wildfire. What would happen if anyone found out about you and Lady Eldridge, I shudder to imagine.”
“They’d probably think he was smarter than he looks.”
“You are not helping solve this problem, Rodney.” Lady Jocelyn speared her husband with a look sharper than ten daggers.
“Look, both of you. Here’s the crux of the matter. I am going to wed Lady Prudence Eldridge. She is definitely the one for me. So there shouldn’t be any panic at all.”
That announcement brought a moment of blessed silence into the room. Which of course couldn’t last.
“You met her when?” The eyebrow rose.
“I told you, Mama.”
“So that means you’ve known her for—let me see—forty-eight hours?” The other eyebrow joined the first.
Reid nodded. “Yes.”
To his surprise, his father stood, walked to his wife and laid a hand on her shoulder. “I knew I was going to marry you five minutes after you tripped curtseying to me at the Hunt ball. That was the first time we met.”
His mother melted. “Oh, Rodney, damn you. I had such a good temper going there for a minute.” She reached up and covered his hand. “Very well. I confess. It took me a lot longer. We were halfway through the second dance before I was sure.”
Reid grinned. “Right. So we can move on now, can we? I don’t need to remind you about glass houses and throwing stones or anything?”
“Reid. Do shut up.” Lady Jocelyn rose. “Let me think.” She tapped her lips with one finger as she paced. “Where is Lady Prudence now? I would suggest you get her over here as soon as possible and thus we can all be seen as a family unit. It will go a long way to quash any murmurs about the suddenness of your engagement.”
“Er, about that…”
“Oh Lord.” S
ir Rodney returned to his chair. “Haven’t asked her yet, have you?”
Reid shook his head. “No. Last night…well, we were otherwise occupied.” He turned away on the pretext of refilling his teacup to conceal the fact that some rather heated blushes were creeping over his cheeks. There were things one didn’t discuss with one’s parents. How he spent the night with a woman was one of them.
The two elders exchanged glances. “Joss, we’ve raised a nodcock.”
“It would seem so. And I had such high hopes too.” Lady Jocelyn shook her head sadly.
Reid stood, placed his hands firmly on his hips and stared at his parents. “If you two have quite finished with your amusing repartee…” he gritted his teeth, “I have every intention of asking Lady Prudence for her hand in marriage this very day. She is, at present, in rooms at the Inn, along with Brent. She’s his cousin, as you know. Therefore, if you, Mama, would find Grandmother Chillendale’s ring for me, and you, Father, would ask for the carriage to be brought round, I will take myself off to the Inn, take care of private matters and return with my fiancée.”
With that, he spun on his heel and walked firmly toward the door reaching for the handle and pulling it sharply toward him.
Bunbury staggered, fell in and caught himself just before landing face-first in front of Reid.
“Do come in, Bunbury. I’m sure my parents will fill in any of the bits you might have missed. It is a thick door, after all.”
With that Parthian shot, Reid stalked out.
Chapter Ten
“What do you mean, she’s not here?” Reid stared at Brent in the middle of the Chillendale Inn’s upstairs corridor.
“I left her at her home. I haven’t seen her since, and I’m going quietly mad I think.”
“You couldn’t have left her at home. She was with me all night.”
“What do you mean she was with you? All night? What did you do to her?” Brent’s voice rose as he neared Reid. “If you’ve frightened her…”
“What the hell…of course I didn’t frighten her. We both agreed it was what we wanted. I’m going to propose today. If I can find her.”