Part 12 (1/2)
She grimaced. Though the girl looked angelic with her golden curls and long lashes, she snored like an old bull-which didn't augur well for peaceful sleep tonight.
Imagining Gregor's expression if he heard the delicate Miss Higganbotham's snores, Venetia had to grin. Gregor had the same appreciation for the ridiculous as she did; it was one of the many things they shared.
It was good to remember that, she thought. Lately, she and Gregor had been at such loggerheads.
She sighed a bit at the thought. A deep restlessness stirred her, and she realized that she hadn't been outside all day. No wonder she was feeling out of sorts.
Glancing at the snoring girl in her bed, Venetia changed from her slippers to her half-boots, collected her pelisse, and left, closing the door softly behind her.
Downstairs, she heard the squire and Ravenscroft speaking in the common room. She felt sorry that Ravenscroft was forced to listen to the squire's pedantry, but not enough to become a victim herself. She b.u.t.toned her pelisse to her throat, pulling the collar up about her ears, then stepped outside.
The snow sparkled fresh and clean, and the air was still frosty, though not as cold as the day they' d arrived. She lifted her skirts to clear the top of the snow and made her way to the stables on the snow-packed path, smiling in the crisp air.
The stables were housed in a large barn that held ten stalls and a decent tack room in the back, all heated with a surprisingly efficient woodstove that was tucked safely away from the stores of hay. Gregor 's man, Chambers, was there, as was Mr. Treadwell's groom. Venetia visited each animal, Chambers narrating its ills and treatments. He'd already cleaned most of the injuries and applied an effective poultice to those in need.
After making certain the grooms had the supplies they needed to continue their work, she stepped back outside. Smiling a little, she lifted her face to the bright sunlight and closed her eyes, letting the quiet fill her with peace.
”Don't stand there.”
Her peace fled. She opened her eyes and found Gregor standing before her. He was dressed in his multicaped coat, a red m.u.f.fler around his neck, his hat casting a shadow over his eyes.
”Why shouldn't I stand here?”
He took her hand and pulled her forward, his lips curved into a smile. ”Look down.”
In a line under the deep eaves around the stables was a graveyard of icicles, each one stabbed deep into the snow, a line of wetness connecting them. ”Oh.”
”They've been falling off all morning.” He glanced up. ”There aren't many left, but I wouldn't stand beneath the overhang for long.”
”I shall pay more attention,” she said lightly, noting how the bright sun made his green eyes lighter. He truly had beautiful eyes, with long lashes that hid his expression even as they emphasized it.
Just before he'd kissed her last night, his eyes had darkened in color. A s.h.i.+ver traced through her, and suddenly, every moment of the kiss flashed through her mind, including the way her body had heated and- Goodness! What was wrong with her? She curled her gloved fingers into the palms of her hands to force the thoughts away.
A puzzled look crossed Gregor's face. ”What is it?”
She shook her head. ”I was merely thinking about the dangerous icicles and glad you were here to warn me.”
He half smiled. ”I have come to the belated conclusion that the only danger you need to be warned about is yourself.” He glanced past her to the stables. ”How are the horses?”
”Better than I had hoped. Your man, Chambers, is excellent.”
”He ought to be, for what I pay him.”
”Oh? How much do you pay him?”
Gregor raised his brows. ”Thinking of stealing him?” ”Perhaps,” she said mischievously. It was an old joke of theirs, to be forever threatening to steal each other's servants. Venetia had never managed to lure any of Gregor's capable grooms or footmen away, but she'd tried, more to tease him than anything else.
His gaze lingered on her lips. ”I am glad to see you're getting back to normal.”
”I was never gone,” she retorted sharply.
Something flickered behind his gaze, and he turned to glance at the barn. ”I didn't think you'd be able to stay away from the horses for long.”
”I yearn to ride,” she said wistfully. The snow-covered woods around the inn seemed to beckon.
”Why don't we?”
She sighed. ”I didn't pack my habit. I thought Mother was ill, and I didn't expect to have time to ride.”
Gregor reached for her arm, tucking it into the crook of his. ”Come, Venetia. Walk with me a bit. You weren't made to be locked inside for days on end.”
She had to admit that it was beautiful outside. Plus her fur-lined pelisse and boots were keeping her snugly warm. ”Very well, but not for long. Miss Higganbotham is likely to awaken in an hour or so.” Venetia planned on having a talk with the young woman to discover what she could about that Henry fellow.
Gregor led her around the stables to a winding trail path that disappeared into the woods. ”This goes to the river and then back to the main road. It's a picturesque path.”
”You've already been here?”
”I took one of the horses out this morning to see how the roads look.” Gregor stopped walking, his expression suddenly serious. ”Venetia, you do realize what the arrival of the squire and his daughter means for us?”
”I shall definitely get less sleep. Miss Higganbotham snores even worse than Ravenscroft.”
He choked back a laugh. ”That little thing snores?” ”Terribly. Whoever marries her is in for a horrid surprise.”
”I daresay.” Gregor pushed a branch out of the way and stepped back, allowing Venetia to precede him. ”Walk carefully,” he ordered. ”Some places are slick.”
Venetia wondered if Gregor had always been so peremptory in his manner and she simply had not noticed, or if it was something new. It was entirely possible that he'd always been so and she'd ignored it. Perhaps it was time she paid more attention.
When a large drift of snow fell from a tree and landed on the path before them, Gregor took her elbow and helped her step over the mound. ”If it continues to warm like this, we may be able to leave soon.”
”Providing, of course, that you don't lose your temper again.”
He gave her a mock scowl. ”If you would stop crossing me, I wouldn't lose anything, much less my temper.”
”I haven't crossed you.”
”Oh? What about an hour ago?” At her blank look, he added, ”In the common room, with the squire.”
”Oh, that. You made me quite angry.”
”I made you angry?” Gregor appeared astonished. The trees overhead drooped heavily, the snow outlining each limb. ”You were so ungracious. I could hardly turn that poor girl away; she was almost frozen to death!”
He sighed. ”I was trying to protect you. Squire Higganbotham is the G.o.dson of the Duke of Richmond.”
”I met the d.u.c.h.ess once. She struck me as a horrid scandalmonger.”
”The worst, and the squire is not the sort of man to understand the word discretion. I spoke with him this morning, and he plans on going straight to London. It is entirely possible you will meet him at some future function.”