Page 72 of A Rogues & Gentlemen Christmas

“Reckon so.”

“Well, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Ned replied, helping himself to potatoes.

Mrs Tucknott nodded and shrugged into her coat before putting on her hat and wrapping a thick shawl about her shoulders. “I wish that girl of mine hadn’t married a bloody Scot,” she grumbled. “The journey is a terrible trial to my old bones. Well, then, I’ll be off. I made the plum pudding and set it in the pantry. You’ll be wanting to feed it a drop of something every day, and it’ll be good and rich.”

“Aye,” Ned agreed, not looking up from his dinner.

“I’ll see you in the new year then, Mr Hardy.”

“That ye will.” He looked up and nodded, letting out a breath of relief when she closed the door behind her.

Ned glanced over to where Rufus was stretched out in front of the fire.

“Just us now, lad,” he said, and returned his attention to his dinner.

Ned woke with a start as Rufus howled and barked, the sound loud enough to wake the dead in the pitch dark of the freezing night.

“What the devil…?” Ned muttered, flinging back the bed covers with regret and fumbling about with the tinderbox.

He lit the candle as quickly as he could and hurried down the stairs. Rufus didn’t make a fuss for no reason, and it was a cruel winter. The last thing he needed was some poor bastard trespassing hoping to steal a hen, or worse.

“What is it, boy?” he said, stopping in his tracks as he heard a faint knock. Rufus barked again, scratching at the door and whining.

Who in the name of Heaven would be out at such an unholy hour on a night like this?

Ned snapped his fingers and pointed, and Rufus stopped at once, moving back to sit beside his master as directed. Too late, Ned realised he was only in his nightshirt, but there was no help for that now. He set the candle down on the windowsill so both his hands were free and opened the door, wondering what on earth to expect.

The sight that greeted him was so unexpected that he was almost too slow to react. He had a brief glimpse of a face so beautiful it might have been that of an angel, and then the woman crumpled. He reacted in the instant before she hit the ground and caught her, the awkward stance taking him to his knees as he laid her down, though she weighed nothing at all. There was the rustle of silk, and the scent of roses drifted from her skin. Ned stared down, wondering if he was dreaming.

Rufus whined and sniffed the woman, giving her cheek a swift lick.

“Aye, she’s cold,” Ned said.

The blue tinge to her lips was visible even in the faint light of the candle. He stood, lifting her with him and kicking the door shut as he carried her back into the kitchen, where it was still warm.

For a moment he stood in the dark room, wondering what the hell to do next, before setting her down carefully on the chair by the fire. His heart was thudding and, though he was desperate to take another look at her, he set his attention to the fire, stirring up the embers and coaxing the flames back to life. Once it was burning well, he hurried back to fetch the candle and lit the lamps so that they suffused the room with a warm glow.

When he returned to her, holding the lamp high, Ned’s breath snagged in his throat. Skin as fine and white as porcelain greeted his gaze, while the lamplight danced upon the gold of her hair. The sudden shock of her beauty in the endless grey of his day-to-day life was like being struck in the head. He felt dazed. She was young, too; barely twenty at a guess.

“Holy God,” he murmured as he looked her over.

Her clothes were fine, finer than anything he’d ever seen. A lady, then. What was a beautiful young lady doing out alone on a night like this?

He took in the snow-caked, sodden boots, and the soaked hem of her dress and petticoats. The clothes might cost more than he’d see in a year, but they weren’t suitable for tramping about in such weather. She must be frozen to the bone.

Hell and damnation. What was he to do? He needed to get the wet clothes off her before she froze to death, but if she woke and he was in the middle of disrobing her… a lady?What if she thought he was attacking her? She’d be terrified. His blood ran cold at the idea, more so as he imagined accusations from those male relations who ought to be looking after her. Where was her father, her brother… her husband?

Just being here, alone with him, could ruin her.

He stiffened as she stirred, her eyelashes fluttering, and Ned saw blue. It was like a glimpse of a kingfisher whisking across a lake in summer.

She sighed and opened her eyes. Ned took a step back as she gasped and sat up, staring around her.

“It’s all right,” he said, holding his hands in front of him. “I won’t do ye no harm.”

She clutched the arms of the chair, her breathing coming hard and fast, panic a living thing in the blue of her eyes. “Did… did they follow me? Are they looking for me?”