Page 33 of Christmas Comes to Little Valentine

“Good morning,” she said, smiling at him.

It was only the sunlight, Nat told himself, as his breath caught in his throat and a sensation like being dazzled made him blink. Yet she looked just as if she had stepped out of one of those prettily painted fashion plates in a riding dress of bright blue. The extravagant lace collar emphasised the delicacy of her features, the high cheekbones and the delicate pink blush that kissed her cheeks.

She stopped, an enquiring look on her face, her grey eyes puzzled as she gazed at him. “Mr Ashford?”

“Oh!” he said, giving himself a mental shake and wondering what the devil had got into him. “Good morning. Sorry, woolgathering. I was just thinking that you looked like you’d stepped directly from the pages of Ackermann’s Repository of Fashion.”

She returned a wistful smile and stroked a loving hand over the fine cloth of the dress, smoothing it over her hip. In any of the women he usually spent time with, he would have been certain it had been a flirtatious move intended to highlight her figure and draw his attention to it. In this case, he knew it was an entirely unconscious movement.

“If you want the truth, I feel completely overwhelmed,” she admitted, sounding a little strained. “I hardly know myself when I look in the mirror and I fear—”

She shook her head.

“What do you fear?” he asked, concerned, for he had heard the slight tremor to her voice.

“Oh, nothing. I’m just being silly. Ignore me and introduce me to these splendid creatures,” she said, hurrying towards the horses.

Unable to interrogate her further in front of the groom, Nat let it go for the moment, explaining that the large bay gelding was Merlin, and the pretty dappled grey at his side, Dormouse.

“Dormouse!” she exclaimed, delighted by this as she produced a carrot, snapped it neatly in half, and offered a piece to each horse.

“You came prepared,” he said, amused by her forethought.

“I always like to make a good impression,” she said, stroking the mare’s silky neck.

“You definitely did last night.”

She glanced at him uncertainly. “Truly? I hoped it went well, but one never knows. They might have despised me and simply been polite to my face.”

He snorted at that, shaking his head. “You did meet my family last night? Do you think Grandmother would have held back if she’d had something to say?”

“Well, no. But Lady Della and Miss Vinnie were so kind and welcoming, Mr Aubrey too was most charming, and your uncle was very jovial.”

“Hmph,” Nat replied, thinking Mr Aubrey was a deal too charming for his own good. “Even so, you’d have known it if they did not take to you. Della has a little of Grandmother in her, if you ask me. She looks like butter wouldn’t melt but cross her at your peril.”

Her face fell at once. “Oh dear. She’ll be terribly angry when—”

“Hush,” he said, jerking his head towards the groom, who was lingering a discreet distance away. Steering her farther from the man, he took her hand in his. “You’ve nothing to worry about. If the worst happens, any blame will fall upon my shoulders, I assure you. Everyone will know at once it was my harebrained scheme, and I bullied you into it.”

“You did not bully me,” she objected. “I am not so feeble-minded that I am incapable of saying no if it is in my best interests to do so.”

Nat smiled at her. “I’m very glad you didn’t say no. Are you?” He hesitated, studying her face for any signs of regret. “I know I’ve put you in a dreadfully sticky situation, but… you are enjoying it, a little, at least?” he asked, anxious lest she turn around and tell him it was all dreadful and she could not wait for it to be over.

“More than a little,” she admitted ruefully. She gazed down at her gown and then held out her lovely new gloves, admiring them. “Such pretty things, the like of which I have only ever dreamed of, and your family are all so kind and welcoming. If you want the truth, I should think myself the luckiest creature on earth if I didn’t feel so wretched for deceiving everyone.”

“I’m glad,” he said, feeling vastly relieved. “Don’t think about the deception. Let us enjoy everything that comes for the next few weeks without guilt or regret.”

“Carpe diem?” she suggested.

Nat laughed. “Even I know that one,” he said with a grin. “Certainly, let us seize the day and live it to the full.”

She pulled a face. “For tomorrow we die.”

“Certainly not. Tomorrow, we have been invited to tea at the vicarage,” he said briskly. “No dying necessary. Now, come along. These poor horses will catch a chill if we don’t get going.”

He led her back to Dormouse, waving the groom away as Meg stood ready, waiting for him to help her up.

Nat moved closer, fully intending to make a step from his linked fingers, and yet at the last moment some devil whispered in his ear. Instead, he grasped her firmly around her slender waist and tossed her up into the saddle.