Page 46 of The Widow’s Christmas Surprise

“But I don’t want to leave you. Not even for the time it takes me to go from here to there.” She struck out toward the far shore.

“Maria, come back.” He set out after her, but she swung around toward him.

“I won’t do it, Hugh. I won’t go. There must be some other way we can be together without another wretched scandal raising its head.” She looked so distraught, so forlorn, where moments before she’d been all smiles and laughter.

“Come back, my love. We can talk about it before we go back to the Hall.” It was more of a perfunctory concession. He’d thought about nothing else for the past days save how to make everything come out right. Nothing, save her leaving or Kit dying, would end their torment.

“Promise me, Hugh. Promise me we will be to—” Maria’s foot slid backward toward the bulrushes, broke through the ice and plunged her into the depths of the icy pond.

Chapter Nineteen

Hugh stared in horror as Maria screamed, just before her head submerged beneath the dark water. Without thought, he threw himself down on the ice, spreading his weight over its surface, his head over the hole where she had disappeared. “Maria!”

Her head broke the surface and she screamed again.

He grabbed her shoulders. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Maria.”

Eyes wide, she clutched at his arms, her nails digging into his coat sleeves until he thought she would rip the thick material.

“Ah . . . ah . . . ah.” She panted for breath, the panic in her face giving way to terror. “Help me, Hugh.” Her voice was little more than a whisper.

“I’ve got you.” He squeezed her shoulders. “Listen to me. Are you touching the bottom? This pond is not very deep at all.”

She stilled, then nodded her head. “I . . . f . . . feel it.”

“Good.” He took a stronger grip on her. “I want you to push off from the bottom toward me. Quickly, love. Push now.”

She tensed, then lifted as he heaved and pulled her back up onto the ice. Still panting, she clutched his arms as he slowly slid them onto the more solid ice in the middle of the pond. “Easy, now. I’ve got you. Are you hurt?”

Staring at him, Maria didn’t respond at first, then shook her head as violent shivering overtook her. “C . . . c . . . cold, Hugh.”

“Here.” He ripped off his jacket and pulled it around her, then picked her up and skated frantically for the shore. In moments he deposited her shaking figure on the log, then pulled off his skates and hers, all the while assessing the situation. “We need to get you out of the cold.”

The dowager house stood a quarter mile away, best make for that. Inside he could build a fire and get her warm again. The horses, still quietly cropping grass nearby, were the best bet, if Maria could ride. “Come on, love. We’re going to Francis House.”

Still shivering, Maria nodded and tried to stand, but she shook so hard her legs wouldn’t support her.

“Here.” Hugh picked her up and ran to Lily. “Can you hold on to the pommel? I’ll lead the horse if you can just hold on.”

Teeth chattering, Maria nodded, her whole body still shaking uncontrollably. Once in the saddle, she leaned over and wrapped her arms around the horse’s neck and groaned.

“What’s wrong?” Hugh had been leading Galahad to the log to use it as a mounting block, but dropped the reins and ran back to her.

“Warm.” Her cheek pressed against Lily’s mane, her arms hugged the huge neck, absorbing the animal’s warmth as best she could.

“I’ll have you warm as quick as can be, love.” He grabbed her reins, scrambled up on Galahad, and started off at a trot. Unsure of how strong her grip on the horse was, he dared go no faster. Still, they arrived at the kitchen door of the dowager house in almost no time.

Hugh leaped down and ran to the door. He had no keys to the house with him, but that was of little worry. Using his elbow, he broke the windowpane, glass tinkling on the stone floor inside. He reached inside, lifted the latch, and the door swung inward. He hurried back to Maria, still clinging to the horse for dear life. “Come, sweetheart. Let’s get you before a warm fire.”

He had to pry her arms from around the horse’s neck, and pulled her into his arms. She shook so hard he staggered as he carried her into the house and sat her down before the fireplace. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, but continued to shiver.

“I’ll get some tinder and start a blaze in a minute.”

Searching around the kitchen, however, revealed that the servants had taken every scrap of wood or else it had been used in the last days the house had been open and not replaced. Nothing remained with which to build a fire.

Maria sat huddled in his jacket, bent over, her arms wrapped around her. She needed to get out of her wet clothing and sit before a fireplace blazing with heat. But where? At the least he could take off her soaking boots. He bent and unlaced the brown, muddied half-boots, then pulled them off, emptying out a deal of water onto the floor in the process. Now he needed to see about something dry for her to wear. “I’ll be right back, love.”