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He was grateful to find his prized pet safely ensconced in a stall. He spent a few moments running his hands over both the horses’ fetlocks, assuring himself they were unharmed. He then led the gallant little Merry into Star’s stall. It would be a tight fit for them, but the warmth they would generate between them would benefit both animals. The now empty stall could house the mules. Leaving Joseph to stable them, Gabriel bent his head into the howling blizzard and fought his way over to the cottage door.
Inside he found the woman, calling herself Marie; head down inside a range, her backside thrust upward into the room. He resisted the urge to land a hard slap to the tempting target, recognising it as inappropriate to antagonise the woman. Instead, he placed his hand upon her shoulder.
“Allow me.”
She shrieked, leaping backwards in shock, stumbling against him. He was stiff with cold, his wits dulled. Unable to react quickly, they unbalanced and tumbled together to the floor. Her veil swung towards him, and without conscious thought, he reached to grasp it. Quick as a flash, she snapped her head back, his hand flailing uselessly in the air. With a sigh of discontent, he lowered his arm and heaved himself from the floor. The door opened, and Joseph came in cradling the flickering candle taken from inside one of the sleigh lamps.
“I thought we might use this to light a fire, Milord,” he said, looking about for a holder in which to set the candle.
Ivy appeared from inside the main room and darted back the way she had come, reappearing a moment later with a bougie nightlight. Between them the maid and groom lit the wick of the coiled bougie and set the candle safe within a pewter holder that Ivy found on the mantelpiece.
Meanwhile, Gabriel hauled the imposter to her feet. While she dusted herself down, he set about getting the fire going using some of the rushes from the floor as tinder. Joseph stacked the logs that Ivy brought in and set them beside the range before braving the blizzard to gather more.
Soon a fire blazed in the hearth of the main room, and the range had been lit. Joseph brought in the picnic basket, and Ivy bustled around to put together a meal for them from the ample contents. They sat together at the wooden table, eating in silence. It seemed both servants knew better than to start a conversation with their employers. Gabriel had no intention of beginning the task of interrogation in front of the maid and groom. He stared at the woman feeding herself beneath her obscuring veil and wondered what her motives were. Itching to pull the damnable thing from her face, he resisted the urge, concentrating instead on the cold collation set before him. He selected a chicken leg and tore into the meat, watching sourly as the woman slipped a quail’s egg beneath her veil.
Who the devil is she?
Dusk fell, and the cottage warmed. Discussion over sleeping arrangements became the topic of conversation. Gabriel decreed that the two women should sleep in one room while he and Joseph should share the other. The women took themselves upstairs first in order to dress the beds with the linen which Angele had found on the shelf in the bedchamber.
“Joseph, I do not wish to leave the women unguarded. I propose to take first watch down here in order to stop them absconding should the storm die down before dawn. I also think we need to keep the fires in all night.”
“Very good, Milord, but I can stay down here. ’Tis only fitting that you should take the bed, sir,” Joseph insisted.
Gabriel shook his head. “No. You need your rest, lad. I need you to be alert on the morrow. We are tasked as men to care for the ladies, and that is what we shall both aim to do.” He slapped the young man playfully upon the shoulder.
Joseph blushed but answered in the affirmative.
The next few hours proved uneventful. Gabriel woke Joseph at two in the morning, and Gabriel retired to the small bed chamber. Meanwhile, Joseph went to sit before the fire, occasionally feeding logs into both the range in the scullery, and the hearth in the main room.
A drop in the howling winds occurred at about five, and by six the snow had stopped altogether. By eight, light filled the cottage, and Ivy appeared, looking tired. She offered to make tea and cut slices of yesterday’s fruit cake. Joseph left her to her task and went to wake his master.
As the men drank their tea and ate slabs of fruit cake along with slices of cheddar cheese, Ivy took a plate upstairs to her mistress. Gabriel immediately took Joseph aside.
“When Ivy returns, I wish you to take her directly back to the house. Delay your return for us by a couple of hours. I have something private to discuss with the Countess. Go now and hitch the sleigh. Use the mules and send help back later in order to collect the horses. They will need to be walked home at a sedate pace; the snow appears to be deeper than ever this morning.”
“Aye, Milord.” Joseph hastened away to brave the cold.
It was some time before the lady in black descended the cottage stairs. She stepped into the small living area. Gabriel stood and bowed. She curtsied.
“Where are Ivy and Joseph?” she asked, glancing around anxiously.
“They have returned to the house. Help will arrive erelong. I wished to speak with you first.”
She moved towards a fireside chair.
“Who are you, for I know that you are not my wife’s cousin?”
She froze.
“Of course I am Marie,” she insisted.
He took a menacing step toward her. The woman retreated to the stairway.
“No, you are not.”
He lunged, intending to pull the veil from her face, but she evaded him, hurrying up the stairs. He followed in hot pursuit. At the top, she attempted to slam the old latched door in his face, but he forced her back into the small bedchamber, stalking her until the backs of her knees hit the bed. She floundered, landing on her back with a shriek. He was finally able to snatch the wretched black veil from her face.
His mind refused to accept what his eyes bore witness to.
