Page 50 of What Lies Beneath

“Oh, yes, very romantic that would have been, waking the poor girl when she was likely half dead with exhaustion,” his mother said in amusement.

Pip scowled. “Then I ought to have stayed put, stayed at the inn until she was ready to see me.”

“Oh, even better, make her feel like she must decide about the rest of her life in the days after her ordeal, because you cannot find the patience to wait for her to know her own mind. Yes, that would have been nicely done,” she remarked, folding her arms and giving him a look of fond exasperation.

“Damn it, Mother!” he protested. “What the devil am I to do?”

“You are to wait until the new year, and then you will travel to Cawston Hall with a beautiful ring and the right words, and you will sweep that lovely young woman off her feet with your romantic proposal. That is what you will do,” she said firmly.

“I’ll go mad,” he growled.

“Good,” she said with a smile, proving to Pip what he had always suspected: his mother had a streak of steel in her spine and could be utterly ruthless.

“Good?” he repeated reproachfully.

“Yes. It’s about time you know what it’s like to pine for the one you love. It will do you a deal of good, I think,” she said briskly. “Think of all those poor girls who have broken their hearts over you these past years. A little retribution is good for the soul.”

“I thought you’d come here to be kind to me,” Pip said, glowering at her.

“Sometimes one needs to be cruel to be kind. Now, do stop moping, darling. All will be well, I promise.”

With a sigh, Pip had to admit when he was beaten, and went with her to be stuffed with Welsh Cakes until Tilly was certain he really meant they were the very best he had ever eaten.

“No more!” he protested, when his daughter reached for the fifth to put on his plate. “But I think Pops could eat another,” he added with a smile.

Montagu gave him a reproving look before shaking his head.

“No,” he said with certainty. “Not another crumb.”

“Oh, but, Pops…!” Tilly protested, as Pip got to his feet and walked to the window again.

Memories of looking out and seeing his daughter and Mrs Harris build a snowman and indulge in a surprisingly wild snowball fight returned to him. Had it begun then, this slow, invisible siege to capture his heart, or had it been even earlier than that? Had she any clue what she was doing, or had she been as oblivious of what was growing between them as he had been? The longing to have her here, to ask her such questions himself, made his chest sore and he stifled a sigh, not wanting his parents to think him entirely foolish.

The snow had left off, just a few desultory flakes drifting here and there, but the landscape was entirely white, pristine and hushed by the thick, fleecy covering. Except—and Pip squinted against the white glare—he felt certain something was moving in the distance. At first he saw nothing, and wondered if perhaps he had glimpsed a deer, but by slow degrees it revealed itself to be a rider. Who on earth could be calling at this hour, for it was late in the afternoon? Pip hoped they were local, for they’d have a dreadful job returning home before nightfall otherwise. Cursing the prospect of an uninvited guest, he realised they could well be forced to stay here indefinitely, for the snow was powdery and soft now, but might well freeze if the temperature kept dropping. But the rider seemed to know exactly where he was going, guiding his horse along the safest path. Was it a boy? The fellow seemed too slight to be a man.

Pip’s breath caught as something about the rider called to him, his heart jolting even though his mind told him he was being ridiculous. Miss Hamilton would not be out riding towards Goshen Court, because she was tucked up safely at Cawston Hall with her uncle miles away in Norfolk. Except, except the rider was a woman, that was a side-saddle, and—

He ran from the room.

Pip heard his parents and Tilly exclaiming, demanding to know where he was going, but he did not stop. Almost knocking poor Kerridge down as he ran for the front door, he yanked it open and flew outside. Skidding and sliding on the steps in shoes not suitable for such weather, he righted himself and ran through the snow as the rider grew nearer. Was it? Was it her? Surely—

“Harry!” he called, certain now as she urged the horse into a canter. “Harry!”

Lord, but he was going to look a perfect arse if she had come to tell him she did not love him, but he didn’t care. She was here, that had to mean something. Why would she be here, and how had she even made it in this appalling weather?

He stood in the middle of his front lawn, the snow up past his ankles as he watched her grow closer and closer until she was there, right before him. The horse stamped and blew, shaking its head as Pip stared up, half convinced he was imagining the entire scene, that his yearning to see her had produced a waking dream.

“Good afternoon, Lord Ashburton,” she said, the face he had so longed to see flushed from the cold.

“Harry?” he said, drinking in the sight of her, so familiar and yet so changed, dressed in the finery of a lady of quality. He hardly dared breathe lest he blink and she disappeared, and then she launched herself at him, throwing herself into his arms and sending him sprawling in the snow.

“Yes!” she said breathlessly, pressing kisses to his lips, his cheeks, his eyes. “Yes, yes, yes, I will marry you! Can we do it now? Today? Oh, I have been so miserable without you. I want to come home. Say I can come home, please?”

Pip didn’t speak. He couldn’t, too overwhelmed by the feel of her in his arms, and by the answer she gave him with such ease. There were no words to express his joy at having her back, knowing she would stay and never leave him again, and so he kissed her. She seemed to find no fault with this answer, and kissed him back, her lips sweet and cold and so perfect he knew nothing else would ever compare.

“Harry! Harry!”

His daughter’s piercing voice carried on the still air, breaking the snow-hushed scene where only their breath and the pounding of his heart had been audible to him. Slowly, he came to his senses, realising he was lying in the snow with his former governess sprawled on top of him, kissing her senseless in full view of his parents, his daughter, and the staff. Oh, there would be a scandal all right, he thought ruefully.