Page 67 of A Winter Scandal

“It makes me wonder when I can put Matthew down for a nap.”

He chuckled, but she could feel the swift, pulsing response of his desire beneath her.

“And that,” she added, shifting on his lap and feeling him leap beneath her again, “makes me think all sorts of sinful things.”

“Mm. I like the way your mind works.” He bent his head for a long, thorough kiss.

Finally Thea broke their kiss. “We must not. Not in front of the baby.”

Gabriel cast a look at Matthew, who was busily clanking a wooden spoon against an overturned pot. “I don’t think he will notice.”

“I will know,” she replied unarguably. “I am not that wanton.”

He grinned at her wickedly. “Then I shall endeavor to make you more so.”

She felt herself blushing a little at the look in his eyes, and he chuckled, running a finger along her cheek. “I love to see your blush. I should like to do a great many more things to bring that color to your cheeks.”

“Gabriel!” Thea could not keep from adding a moment later, “What things?”

He roared with laughter and gave her a hard, swift kiss. “I will be happy to show you, once Matthew goes to sleep.” He looked toward the baby again. Matthew had lost his spoon with a wild wave of his hand, and he let out a little bellow, reaching out and making grasping motions. Gabriel sighed. “Somehow I am not hopeful that he is going to sleep anytime soon.”

“True. Perhaps we had best talk about something else.”

“Tell me about Christmas in Chesley.”

“Truly?” Thea looked up at him.

He nodded. “What do you like the best?”

“The morris dancers,” she answered promptly.

“The morris dancers? I thought that was a spring event in villages.”

She nodded. “It is. But they do it here on Christmas Day, as well. Do they not in your village?”

“I am usually in London. I remember them from the spring when I was little, back on the estate. But I do not think they are about as much as they are in the Cotswolds.”

“We are not a people prone to change.” Thea sighed, and after a moment, she said in a sad voice, “We should go back.”

“I know.” He sounded no more happy about it than she.

“Everyone will wonder where we are if we are both gone at Christmas. It will be a terrible scandal.”

His arms curled around her more tightly, and he bent to kiss the top of her head. “Yes. You are right.” He stood up, setting her on her feet. “I am going to look around, see what the conditions are.”

Thea nodded and turned away, unwilling to let him see the tears that sprang to her eyes. She knew that they should go, but she did not want to. She wished—foolishly, she knew, for it would be her reputation more than Gabriel’s that would be damaged by a scandal—that Gabriel had not acquiesced so easily, that he had tried to deny her assertion or argue it away or cajole her into staying.

To take her mind off the possibility of leaving, she went about the cabin, straightening up and putting the food back into the pantry. She glanced out the window and saw Gabriel walking through the snow toward the road, leading the two unharnessed horses. They passed out of her sight, and she returned to her work. There was little enough to do after that, though the baby began to fuss and she occupied herself for a little while in picking him up and walking about, patting and soothing him. When she felt him grow heavier in her arms, she knew that he had fallen asleep.

“Couldn’t you have chosen to do that earlier?” she murmured to him, then laid him down in his little bed, tucking his blanket in around him.

Gabriel came in a few minutes later. She held up her hand in warning, pointing to the sleeping baby. He nodded and came closer, taking her arm and leading her into the bedroom. Closing the door, he turned to her.

“I broke a trail with the horses to the road. That should make it easier for the curricle to pass through. The worst thing would be to break one of its wheels and leave us stranded on the road.”

“Will we be able to make it?”

He grimaced. “If there were nothing else involved, I would say we should wait another day. If I did only what I wanted, I would wait another week.” He came closer, reaching up a hand to cup her cheek. “But you are right. Your reputation will suffer if we wait. Just last night and today, perhaps we will be able to keep it secret. But if you are gone Christmas Day, I fear everyone will notice. And I have little faith in a vicar’s ability to tell everyone a satisfactory lie.”