“Yes,” she said again, moving around the table to another pocket, “if you wish.”
He strolled to the window and tried to persuade his heart to slow down. “I do believe the snow is easing a little,” he said. “I could use some fresh air after luncheon, couldn’t you?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, sounding as eager for cool air and open spaces as he was feeling.
If the snow had not eased off enough for them to go outside, Rosamund thought later when she was upstairs pulling on boots and gloves and fastening her cloak warmly about her throat, she would have had to go outside anyway. If she had to remain inside the house for one more hour, she would surely burst.
The air had positively pulsed between them all morning and through both meals. And surely it could not be all one-sided. She could not be so overpoweringly aware of him while he felt nothing. Surely he felt as she did.
A most disconcerting thought!
Leonard had always said she had a positive gift for opening her mouth and ramming her foot inside. He had found that gift quite endearing and had always hugged her and kissed her smackingly and laughed heartily when it happened. But it was one thing to say alarmingly embarrassing things when there was just Leonard to hear her, and quite another to say them in front of Mr. Halliday . . . Justin,
She must close her mind to the morning’s examples, she thought, turning resolutely to the door of her room, or she would lose the courage to go back downstairs to face him again. But her hand paused on the knob and she closed her eyes.
Asking him what he would have done with his mistress today, indeed! She had had sudden and vivid images of a girl spread on her bed clad only in the black nightgown and of him about to remove it. On top of the covers and not beneath them. Oh, it was most mortifying. Women of her class were not even supposed to know about such creatures as mistresses.
And then telling him that a kiss had always been the prize claimed by Leonard when they had played billiards. How could she have! Rosamund shuddered. Just as if she were issuing an open invitation.
That kiss! She still felt a tightening of her breasts and a weakening in her womb and her knees when she thought of it. Why, oh, why, had she got out of Dennis’ carriage the day before?
She opened the door resolutely, and went downstairs, pulling up her hood over her hair as she did so.
“The snow is very deep,” the earl said. “Will your boots keep it out?”
“For a little while,” she said, looking down at her half-boots. He was surely wearing the same topboots and the same caped greatcoat that he had been wearing the day before.
She had not really noticed then how very large and virile they made him look. She noticed now.
But this is foolish, she thought, giving herself a mental shake and striding toward the front door.
A world of white magic greeted them outside. The sky was still gray and heavy and promised more snow later on, and there was a chill breeze to whip up air that was already very cold. But it was a magical world anyway. The trees were hung with snow, and the ground beneath them was an unbroken white carpet. Rosamund stood on the steps, the only area that Reeves had swept off, and drew in a deep breath.
“Oh, beautiful,” she said. “Isn’t it beautiful?” She turned to the man who was standing silently beside her.
“Magical,” he said, echoing her thoughts. He went down the steps and into snow that reached almost to the top of his boots. “Are you coming down here, Rosamund, or is snow only to be looked at?”
She laughed. “It is so deep,” she said, taking his hand and stepping down into it. “I have never seen snow so deep. Oh, Justin, isn’t it lovely? What I would not have given to have had snow like this when I was a child.”
“There is a child in all of us,” he said as they waded slowly along what they thought to be the driveway. “If you want to shriek and frolic, don’t hold back on my account. I may even join you.”
“I would have made a whole army of snowmen,” she said, “and been begging Cook for a whole bag of carrots for their noses. But alas, I am not a child any longer.” She smiled at him. “It would be lovely to have children, wouldn’t it?”
And there, she had done it again, she thought as she bent to pick up a handful of snow to mold into a ball in her hands. How embarrassing!
“I must admit I have never felt the urge,” he said, sounding amused. “You never had children?”
“No,” she said. “Leonard’s first wife did not have any either. We would have liked one.”
“Well,” he said, “there is lots of time. You are young yet. In the meanwhile, what about that angel?”
“Oh, no,” she said, dropping the ball she had molded. “I would feel remarkably foolish.”
“A pity,” he said. “How about a snowball fight?”
She looked at him warily. “A fight?” she said. “You and me? Oh, no.”
“You’re afraid of losing,” he said.
