“That is exactly why I cannot do this,” he replied, bracing his hands at her waist and leaning forward to rest his face in the crook of her neck. One last inhale of that sweet, floral scent … that was all he would take from her before sending her on her way. “I won’t inflict my pain upon anyone else, especially you. Please … you have to go. If you don’t, I’ll forget all my good intentions and kiss you again. And this time, I won’t be able to stop at your lips. I’ll want to kiss you everywhere.”
She shivered despite the warmth of the room, a dangerous reminder that this woman seemed to want him as badly as he wanted her. But, he must stand firm on his decision. He’d already taken things too far by kissing her.
“Go back to your room,” he murmured. “It isn’t you, please know that. You were … God, you’re perfect. Just go … now, you have to go.”
He finally met her wide-eyed stare, finding confusion, lust, and understanding in the depths of her eyes. She seemed ready to argue, but silently bent to retrieve the book she came in with. Setting it on the side table, she then reached for her lamp, still watching him as if he were some great mystery to be solved.
“Very well,” she whispered. “Good night, Maxwell.”
Slouching on the love-seat, he watched her retreat while battling the urge to go running after her. “Good night, Josephine.”
Only a few more days, he reminded himself as she disappeared out into the corridor, taking the lamplight with her.
The house party would end in four days, taking Josephine away from him for good. While his chest ached at the prospect, he knew it would be for the best.
Chapter 8
Josephine watched her breath turn to white mist on the frigid air, smiling as she glided across the thick sheet of ice. The steel blades of her skates made the most pleasing sound as they cut over the frozen pond, the only thing to be heard in the quiet and calm of her current location.
Early that morning over breakfast, Lord Thaddeus Davies had announced plans for a sojourn to the pond for skating, followed by tea, chocolate, and pastries in the drawing room. This news had been met with much excitement, and a number of the women declared the activity to be the perfect precursor to the evening’s Christmas Eve celebration. Apparently, the countess had planned a lavish dinner of twelve courses and an array of desserts, followed by a small informal dance. A quartet of musicians had been hired to provide accompaniment, and the gentlemen had already begun asking the women of their choice to save dances for them.
No one paid her any such heed, but for the first time in her life Josephine hardly cared. What did it matter that Violet’s theoretical dance card was already filled while Josephine went virtually ignored? Why should it bother her that Adelaide had forced her to make herself as bland as possible so that her sister could shine?
None of it could faze her on such a beautiful morning, with soft swirls of powdery snow falling about her, the cold, bracing air filling her lungs, and the sensation of flying lifting her as she glided over the ice. The others had gone inside half an hour ago, with only a few of the guests lingering behind for a bit more time on the ice. One by one, the others returned to the house in favor of warmth and refreshments. Adelaide and Violet had been among the first to return inside, not bothering to attempt drawing her off the ice. They both knew how she loved to skate, and her stepmother seemed content to know she would be out of sight while the others enjoyed their tea and hot chocolate indoors.
Before long, she found herself alone with more room to maneuver and pick up speed. Throwing her arms wide, she released a joyous laugh, finding that one other thing lifted her spirits and left her feeling giddy.
Maxwell Davies had kissed her, and she feared she would never be the same. However, it wasn’t a terrifying sort of fear, but an exhilarating one—akin to the thrill of rushing across the ice in a devil-may-care fashion she wouldn’t attempt in the presence of others.
Never could she have imagined a kiss could be so life-altering. Maxwell had been right to correct her; a kiss involved more than a simple meeting of lips. There had been the masculine scent of him—a combination of clean, starched linen, musk, and spicy sandalwood. The press of his hands on various parts of her body—her shoulders, her waist, her breast. Her belly erupted with butterflies as she recalled the taste of him, and the feel of his velvety tongue caressing hers. To refer to the event as simply ‘a kiss’ hardly seemed like enough. Josephine had always thought of kissing as such an unimportant, innocuous thing. How wrong she had been!
Perhaps it wasn’t only the act that made her feel this way, but the man who had done the kissing. In those moments, he’d become a different man, his restraint slipping to reveal someone overflowing with passion and life. He’d kissed her with desperation and longing, with passion and purpose. Now, all those things had been awakened in her, and she didn’t think they could ever be put back to sleep.
In the back of her mind, Josephine realized she should be concerned about what it all meant. It ought to worry her that she’d developed tender feelings toward the brother of the man Violet wanted to marry, and that her involvement with him could ruin her half-sister’s chances. Perhaps she should think of what Adelaide would say or do should she find out about her encounter with Maxwell in the library.
Yet, try as she might, she simply couldn’t make room in her mind for worry. It was Christmas Eve, and she was enjoying one of her favorite pastimes without the intrusion of others. The pond sat quite a distance from the house, and was shrouded by a heavy thicket of trees. It left her feeling as if she were closed off in a snowy fairy wonderland, where only she and her burgeoning feelings existed.
Executing a graceful turn, she skidded to a halt to find the dark figure of a man gingerly making his way down the sloping ground between the trees. Her racing heart hammered even faster as she watched him, one hand braced on a tree, the other gripping his walking stick. She grew breathless with worry that he might lose his footing and go tumbling down the incline, but it soon became clear he had things well in hand. One would think he took the route often, his steps falling with surety on the uneven incline.
When her heart didn’t cease its rapid cadence, she admitted to herself that it was due to the simple sight of him. He was resplendent in a black overcoat boasting a few capes at the shoulders, the dark wool speckled with white snow. Black gloves covered his hands, a few rogue waves of his hair showing from beneath his hat.
She skated forward, nearing the snowy bank just as he stepped onto it, bracing both hands atop his walking stick and giving her another one of those piercing looks. However, his gaze felt different than it had before—softer, with the hard edge of the blue melting like heated ice. His mouth twitched at the corner, in what she now recognized as an attempt at a smile. She grinned in response, burying both hands in the ermine muff hanging from one arm.
“Well, good afternoon. What are you doing out here?”
He inclined his head in the direction of the house. “When the others returned to the drawing room, I did not find you among them. So, I thought to come out and see for myself that you were all right. Then, I arrive to find you floating over the ice like a little fairy.”
Laughing, she pushed off from the bank, skating backward, then swinging in a wide arc before coming back to him. “I couldn’t resist the chance to have the pond to myself with everyone gone back inside. I do love to skate, and can only do it so often this time of year. Back home, we must wait until it’s cold enough that there is little fear of thin ice. But your brother assures us it is quite safe here.”
He nodded, casting a wistful look at the frozen pond. “It is. We skated here when we were children—Thaddeus and I, our sisters.”
Her heart sank as she realized it must have been some time since he’d had the pleasure of a bracing race across the ice. “I am certain all you need is time and practice to learn how to compensate for the distribution of your weight. You’ll be skating again in no time.”
“Perhaps next y
ear,” he replied, though not with very much conviction. “That is quite a fetching skating costume.”
She glanced down at her forest green, fur-lined cape, which went a long way toward keeping her warm. Beneath it she wore a suit akin to a riding habit in the same shade of green, its skirts falling short enough to keep clear of her skates, her boots lacing up to mid-calf to cover her legs. Aside from the cape and muff, she wore a pair of kidskin gloves and a velvet bonnet to ward off the cold.
“Thank you,” she said, heat flushing her face as his slow gaze perused her from head to toe.
She couldn’t help but wonder what he thought as he looked at her, if he were remembering the sight of her half-dressed and lying beneath him. God knew it was all she could think about.
Clearing her throat, she fought to fill in the silence. “I am flattered you noticed my absence in the drawing room. I doubt anyone has realized I haven’t returned.”
His gaze snapped up to meet hers, flashing with something that made her shiver—and not from the cold. “I always perceive your presence in a room. Of course I notice when you aren’t there.”
Her lips parted as she absorbed the shock of his words. They sent warmth suffusing through her, yet at the same time they made her pulse race. He winced, seeming to notice that she struggled with the words to respond.
“I’m sorry. It has been so long since I … well, when I was interested in a woman, it came naturally to … oh, bollocks. I’m making a mess of this, aren’t I? I should have said something light and charming, something funny.”
Her heart squeezed as if gripped in a vice as understanding dawned.
I haven’t kissed a woman in so long because I haven’t wanted to. Not until now … not until you.
His words from last night came back to her, their implications filling her with even more joy and hope. He hadn’t done this in a long time because he hadn’t wanted to. But now, he wanted to flirt and be charming and attempt to act as if her background didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.
“I think you’re doing just fine,” she assured him, gliding a bit closer to the embankment. “You were honest, something I very much admire in a man. In fact, your unwavering honesty is one of the things I admire most about you.”
He extended his hands and she accepted them, preparing to step off the ice and onto the snowy ground with him. More of the powder fell from the sky, heavier than it had come just a moment ago. The white flakes clung to his shoulders and his hat.
“Still, I don’t want you think I’m making any assumptions after what occurred last night. At least, I certainly do not expect anything from you, nor do I think any less of you …”
Tuning out his words, Josephine sought a way to turn their meeting into the light, charming encounter he’d been aiming for. They were alone, shielded from the world by trees and snow, and she wanted him to enjoy it. She wished he would stop thinking so much and feel as free and happy as she did out here. If flirtation was what he desired, she would give that to him.
Bracing one foot on the bank, she purposely threw her weight forward with far too much force, colliding into him and sending them tumbling to the ground in a heap. Her face fell against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her and turned so that he landed first, cushioning her fall. Snowy mist rose up as they hit the ground, raining down over them like tiny bits of lace.
“Josephine, are you all right? Are you hurt?”
Bracing her hands on his chest, she sat up, fitting in a perfect cradle between his spread legs. His walking stick had fallen an arm’s reach away, and his hat had tumbled several yards away. Snow now rested in the dark brown locks of his hair and on his eyelashes, making him look like some sort of fairytale winter prince right out of a storybook. A smile stretched across her face, then her chest began to tremble as giggles bubbled up into her throat.
She threw her head back and laughed, the sound echoing up into the open sky. Maxwell braced himself on his elbows and stared at her as if she’d gone mad, but she simply went on laughing, reveling in the lighthearted moment.
After a while, he seemed to realize she wasn’t hurt and relaxed a bit beneath her. His own chest vibrated with laughter, a few chuckles creeping out as she reached out to dust the snow from his hair. She liked the sound—deep and hoarse as if his laugh had gone unused for a long time. It made her want to curl up in his lap and bury her face in his chest.
“I’m perfectly all right. Though I would be far better if you would kiss me again.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth and held, his own lips parting as if in anticipation. “I shouldn’t. But kissing you is all I’ve been able to think of since last night. I fear I shall go mad if I don’t.”
“It has consumed me as well,” she admitted. “There’s no one here but you and I. Kiss me, Max—”
He obliged her before his name had finished falling from her lips, capturing her lips in a sweet but desperate kiss. Gripping his coat lapels, she hung on for dear life as the world around her seemed to tilt and shift, spinning so fast she grew dizzy. His warmth seeped through the layers of her clothes, and he tasted of coffee and some sweet confection. Cupping the back of her head, he angled her to deepen the kiss, gently probing at her with his tongue. The snow fell faster, thick flurries swirling around them with every shift of the wind. With no sound to be heard but their harsh breaths, it felt as if they’d fallen away from the world, into some place where only they existed. How simpler things would be if that were the case.
He pulled away with a harsh intake of breath, closing his eyes. His grip on her tightened, but she had no desire to be away from him, not when the thing she’d been dreaming of since the first time she laid eyes on him was finally happening.
“We shouldn’t do this in the open where anyone can see. It would ruin your reputation and I’d never forgive myself.”
Josephine, who had spent most of her life worrying over just that, shrugged. “I don’t care about that. Not when I’m with you. Perhaps that makes me reckless.”
This time, he attempted a smile and achieved it, half his mouth curving and producing a dimple in his left cheek. Josephine pressed her mouth reverently against the little hollow—proof that he wasn’t as far gone as he claimed. He couldn’t be if he could smile and laugh and roll about with her in the snow.
“Then I am guilty of being equally reckless,” he said. “It is a good thing I encountered you alone, or I might have embarrassed us both and scandalized my guests.”
She giggled, casting a gaze in the direction of the manor. “I would love to see Adelaide’s reaction to such a thing.”
He scoffed and shook his head, giving her a little nudge. “As much as I would like that, too, we shouldn’t risk it. Come on, I’ll walk you back to the house.”
Josephine rose reluctantly, not wanting to ruin their stolen moment, but understanding the wisdom in his words. It was easy to pretend as if she didn’t care whether they were caught, but quite another matter for her to flagrantly flaunt their budding romance.
Could their brief moments alone and stolen kisses even be called romance? As she stood and dusted the snow from her skirts, Josephine realized she was likely making more of this than was wise. After all, once the party ended she would return home with Adelaide and Violet. She might never see Maxwell again, unless Thaddeus approached her stepmother with an offer of marriage. A bitter taste crept into her mouth as she thought of encountering Maxwell again at Violet’s wedding, watching her stepsister approach her happy future while Josephine’s remained so uncertain.
Pushing such morose thoughts aside, she let Maxwell unbuckle her skates, then offered him a hand up. He crouched to pick up his hat and walking stick.
If nothing else, she could enjoy what was happening here and now for as long as it lasted. When she returned to her lonely place in the Burton household, she would have the memories of this week to sustain her. She would nestle them deep in her heart and hide them away where no one could take them from her.
Offering her his arm, he began leading her slowly up the embankment, carefully finding purchase with his cane every few steps. Worry creased his brow as he glanced about at the rapidly falling snow that had begun to obscure their surroundings. The wind picked up, howling and bending the limbs of the nearby trees.
“Damn it,” he spat, raising his voice to be heard above the din. “We shouldn’t have tarried so long. It seems we are in for a Christmas Eve snowstorm. We should hurry.”
Josephine quickened her steps to keep pace with his long ones, noticing that his limp had grown more pronounced.
“Are you all right?”
“The cold bothers my injury, but it isn’t anything I am not accustomed to. Getting inside and before a warm fire will help.”
Guilt lanced through Josephine at having coaxed him into remaining by the pond with her for so long. She didn’t know the extent of Maxwell’s leg injury, but ought to have been more considerate. Seeming to sense the direction of her thoughts, he wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed the crown of her head.
“I regret nothing, sweet,” he murmured. “Do not worry about me. I’ve survived far worse.”
She took a little comfort in that, but only until the snow began falling even heavier, making it difficult to see more than a few feet in front of her. Squinting, Maxwell seemed to try to see farther, his gait growing even more unsteady as the snow piled up around them, slowing their progress. They were caught in the coming storm, with the worst of it to come. If they didn’t get to the house soon, they would find themselves in a serious conundrum.
“There,” Maxwell said, pointing toward a large, dark shape in the distance. “We’ve wandered off course, and are even farther from the manor than before. But we can take shelter there and wait out the storm.”
Josephine clung to him, her heart in her throat as she wondered how sturdy this structure was and how long they would be forced to hole up there. How long before someone realized they’d gone missing? It would be madness for anyone to go out searching in this ghastly weather, which could last for hours or even for days.
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