Jeffrey brought the platter over, and Leo snatched the paper up. She was coming. In the cold and the snow. He looked at the clock in the corner. They had an hour before the train arrived. Enough time to prepare the carriage, and gather up extra blankets. Would he take her back to her Strawbridge, or would he bring her here?
He looked up, panic clutching his chest. “Granson, would you be willing to drive me to the train station?”
“What, now?” he asked, his gaze going to the dark window, where they could see fat snowflakes wafting to the ground.
“We need to meet the next train in an hour.” Leo caught the exchanged glance between his mother and father. “Don’t look at each other like that.”
His mother ignored his comment. “Would this be a telegram from Mrs. Cabot, by any chance?”
“No,” he said, if only to prove her wrong, even if she was right in spirit. “But she is arriving on the next train.”
A smile cracked his mother’s face, and his father hid his grin, knowing it would only irritate Leo.
“That pretty bird you had with you at the cottage?” Granson asked. When Leo gave him a harsh look, he added, “She seemed very nice.”
“Will you drive?” Leo repeated, getting to his feet. There was so much to do, but he couldn’t figure out what he needed to happen first.
“I’ll get the horses ready and bring the carriage around front.” Granson put his snifter down. As he was leaving the room, he put a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “I’m glad. You look a proper man with her by your side.”
“I’ll alert the cook to warm up something for a meal. She’ll no doubt need something to fortify her after a cold journey,” his mother said, accepting the cane that Reggie handed to her.
“I’ll find Daisy and let her know to remake my bed. I’ll bunk in with Granson tonight.” Reggie stood and then gave that old mischievous grin. “Unless Mrs. Cabot will be bunking with you, that is.”
His mother, now on her feet, hit him with her cane. “Don’t be presumptuous, Reggie. That was always your problem.”
“According to you, I’ve had a great deal of problems,” he grumbled.
“Obviously.” His mother sniffed. “And how fortunate for you that you’ll finally listen to me and fix them.”
“I’ll tell Daisy and then move my things,” Reggie said, still smothering a grin.
Leo bolted from the room, changing into warmer clothes and shouting down to his mother to have Cook prep warm bricks, a hot water bottle, and to alert Jeffrey to find all the heavy carriage blankets and put them inside after Granson brought it around front.
*
THE WIND HOWLEDthrough the train station. Despite her woolen ensemble from head to toe, Prudence shivered. Her toes were hard chunks of ice crammed in her boots, and she flexed herfingers to keep them warm. She held a carpetbag, while her trunk had been loaded onto the next train and delivered to the hotel.
She put her head down to move through the cold, until she heard her name. Snapping up to see who shouted for her over the howl of the winter winds in the practically deserted station, she staggered when she saw Leo.
He hurried to her, taking her carpetbag and swooping her toward the exit. She moved with him, staring up at him. They didn’t speak. He locked eyes with her, and she felt a surge of comfort and safety. Ofrightness.
The carriage was ready, and the driver tipped his cap to her beneath his mountain of blankets. She climbed in and immediately relaxed. It was warm—hot bricks sat in the foot warmer position, and there was a hot water bottle wrapped in soft cotton, meant for her to hold, which she did gratefully.
Leo arranged a blanket over her and hit the carriage to spur it on. They stared at each other. Prudence didn’t know what to say. Her chest felt tight. Seeing his face, with its cutting cheekbones and his steel-gray eyes, made her jaw clench in wanting.
“Prudence.” His voice was hoarse and so welcome to hear.
“Leo.” His name was like music, as if she were singing to him when she said his name.
“You came.” His body was rigid, coiled, as if he were going to spring forward. She wanted him to—just to be nearer. If she were going to read his expression, she thought he was happy to see her. “Why?”
Her stomach dropped. Perhaps he hadn’t missed her the way she had missed him. The months apart had been a slow, quiet agony. The drives in Hyde Park with Lord Grabe were tedious, the endless hours of training with her friends had been distractions, pouring herself into a physical world so that shedidn’t have to feel the weight of his absence. Her eyes dropped away from him, and unbidden a shivering gasp came out of her.
“Prudence,” he whispered. “I missed you.”
She looked up at him again, desperate now for any kind word.
“I wrote you letter after letter, everything from long-form desperation, to short notes begging to see you. Why now?” The mask he wore for everyone else was gone. She looked at his vulnerable self. The one who had begged for her.
