The Earl's Christmas Delivery Read online

  She eyed his makeshift bed warily.

  "I don't know... Perhaps I should keep an eye on the ponies."

  "You can't even keep your eyes open. No, I will stay awake and watch over the ponies. You need to get some sleep."

  He could tell that she wanted desperately to agree with him. She hesitated, though, and he knew why. After the way he'd manhandled her she could hardly feel comfortable trusting herself in his care. He'd have to set her at ease on that score.

  "As for what happened between us earlier, I assure you that was an error."

  "Please, sir, you don't have to—"

  "No, I do have to. I apologize for my behavior and I promise you do not need to worry for any future lapses of that nature."

  If she had any clue at all just how difficult it was for him to make such a promise she would not have frowned in such a dubious manner. Apparently she did not believe him. Perhaps she did know how difficult it was for him to make that promise. Especially just now, as her sea-colored eyes were dark and questioning, the lantern light made her skin glow warm and satiny smooth, and he could still taste the tantalizing sweetness of her on his lips... By God, it was going to take all the determination his tired body could muster to keep his eyes on the ponies tonight rather than on her.

  Somehow he would manage, though. She needed her rest and he would convince her to trust him. He'd find a way to trust himself, too.

  "What occurred was a mistake, Miss Meriwether, and I—"

  "Please sir," she snapped, interrupting him. "If there is any part of you that is a gentleman, please do not mention what occurred. Promise me you will never speak of it again."

  Her words left him no room for question. She hated him. She would not even hear his apology. Whatever hope he held for reconciliation he might as well dash it all now.

  "Very well, Miss Meriwether. I will not speak of it. But I will insist that you get some rest. My sister would never forgive me if I delivered you tomorrow all yawning with red, bleary eyes."

  "If you're sure Holly and the foal will be fine..."

  "Yes, the shepherds said everything went just as it should. See? This little foal is a sturdy fellow already. And he's found his way to a meal."

  Indeed, the little creature had been very much a prodigy on that count. The diminutive mare tended to him nicely and there was truly no reason at all for them to expect any difficulties. The very best thing now would be for Miss Meriwether to get a few hours of sleep. And for him to spend a few hours learning how to keep his mind off of the very thing he'd just promised never to speak of again.

  He regretted what happened; she could see that plainly enough in the pained, uncomfortable way he had insisted on bringing the subject up. She'd stopped him from persisting in his apologies, expressing his great remorse at such a lamentable thing as taking her into his arms and kissing her. It was one thing to know his kiss had meant nothing to him, yet it was quite another to hear him vow and promise never to make such a dreadful error ever again. He may as well have run screaming in terror from her.

  She shouldn't have let him get so close to her, anyway. What did she know of kissing, anyway? Nothing. She'd lived the sheltered life of a gently-bred girl, raised to be ignorant of such things. If Papa had not suffered such a drastic financial downturn the very year she'd been expecting her come-out, she'd likely have learned about beaux and gentlemen's advances and, perhaps, even kisses. But she'd not had her grand Season that year, then Mama's illness took over their lives and things had gone from bad to worse.

  What she'd learned of men over the past six years she'd learned simply for self preservation. She'd learned to avoid nearness and any situation that might give a man the notion she welcomed such actions. Obviously she'd broken all of those rules—and several others, too—with his lordship today. Now even he regretted it.

  She wished she could say she did, though. Sadly, as she gave in to his demands that she stop fussing over the ponies and allow herself some much needed rest, she could not deny the fact that deep down inside she had no regrets. She could never regret kissing the earl.

  She would never forget it, either. There was little chance she'd ever experience anything like it again, so her memory was all she would have. Her prospects were not good and she was hardly a young miss any more. Without youth, connections or dowry to recommend her, she would not fool herself regarding the future. Lord Bahumburgh's sleep-deprived lapse in good judgment was likely the closest she would ever come to finding herself courted by some dashing gentleman.

  And what a dashing gentleman he was, at that. No other man could ever compare. Drat it all, but she had indeed come to feel something most unwelcome for her traveling companion. Despite his airs and his bluster, she'd gone and let herself develop a fancy.

  Dear heavens, but she hoped that's all it was! The way her heart pounded at the thought of him and the way her lips still tingled from his touch she could not help but wonder—was this a mere girlish fancy, or had she stumbled into something infinitely worse? She desperately would not let herself answer that question.

  She turned herself away from him, going to the pallet he had laid out and unceremoniously making herself comfortable there. She snuggled under the blanket he had laid out and kept her face resolutely toward the wall. Hopefully he would think this was her way of saying his kiss had meant nothing and she couldn't care less what he did with himself just now.

  Really, though, it was primarily to be sure he did not notice her tears.

  The night dragged on. Myserleigh watched her sleeping, his gaze tracing the form of her gentle curves under the blanket and wishing she'd stir, perhaps turn over so he could see her face. She'd been so tired, so worn by the cares of their day. He hoped in sleep her worries might fade, her dreams might put a smile on her pink lips. He could not see them, but he could picture them as clearly as if he could. He kept himself alert by studying the color of her hair, the way the strands cascaded around her like waves of golden silk.

  She breathed evenly, though in her demure position on her side he was not afforded a view of her rising and falling chest. A true gentleman would not even dream of such voyeuristic wishes, but he had not behaved very gentlemanly today. He had been rude and suspicious, he had driven her without accommodation through the worse of storms, and now the best he could provide was a bed on the floor. In a stable.

  A cold, dark stable, at that. The lantern was nearly spent and sputtered profusely. Its light was enough, though, that he could see her shiver. Yes, she was shivering now, her tired body overcome by the cold. He'd hunted down every dry covering he could find to make this pallet for her, yet it had not been enough. He ached for her as her exhausted body trembled uncontrollably and she moaned in her sleep, pulling the blanket more tightly around her.

  He'd never felt so utterly useless, so ridiculously incapable before in his life. Yes, he'd helped two able-bodied shepherds birth a healthy foal tonight, but he'd not been able to keep one undemanding, uncomplaining woman from sleeping on the cold floor. Worse, he'd not been able to keep his hands off of her.

  But maybe that's what she needed. He couldn't secure her better accommodations for the night, but he could keep her warm. She refused to accept his apology for that kiss, so he was fairly certain she would not appreciate any further contact, but he decided her welfare came above her measure of esteem for him. He'd likely get a tongue lashing from her in the morning, but for now he would keep her as safe and warm as he could.

  He left his spot on the crates. The mare stirred, turning her huge, gentle eyes on him but not shifting position where she stood guard over her sleeping foal. The little one's tail flicked, but otherwise he gave no response to Myserleigh's motion.

  He moved to Miss Meriwether. It would be morning in just a few hours and she needed a restful sleep. Shivering as she was, she would not get one and that could not be good for her. She might end up with the croup, or a fever, if he didn't take care of her. He lowered himself down to the pallet, pulling her
blanket closer around her and tucking it in. Thank God she was asleep or he'd have gotten that tongue lashing now. It would be worth it, though, to brush against her form and hear the soft noises she made.

  Content that she was as secure as he could make her, he stretched out on the pallet. His body ached from the long day's efforts, and God only knew what misery he'd be in come morning. For now, however, his pain and his discomfort dissipated. He reached his arm around Miss Meriwether and pulled her up close against him. She sighed, then snuggled into the warmth that the addition of his body created.

  For what was left of the night he would hold her. He'd keep her warm. He doubted he'd get much sleep himself, but just now he could think of no sweeter torment than to be so close to Miss Meriwether, yet truly so far.

  Chapter 7

  Morning arrived, gray and damp. Carole nestled deeper into her blankets, appreciating the warmth that surrounded her like a comforting embrace. It seemed so long since she'd felt this warm, this sheltered. It had to be a dream—a wonderful dream in which she was not alone, left to fend for herself in a world that seemed to have no place for her. This was her place, right here, warm and cared for and safe. She reveled in it, wishing she might never have to open her eyes and face reality.

  But she did open her eyes. This dream was far too real. She could touch the rough fabric of the blankets, smell the musty scent of the straw, feel the protective sweep of arms wrapped around her...

  Arms wrapped around her?

  Oh, but gracious heavens! She was sleeping with Lord Bahumburgh! She was cuddled up next to him, cooing like a contented dove and he was holding her like... like a lover!

  She turned over, desperately hoping she would find out she was mistaken. She was not. Her face was mere inches from his and he was smiling at her. He reached up and touched her, in fact, brushing her tangled hair away from her eyes as if he had every right to do so.

  "Good morning," he said.

  It was such casual thing to say, yet their situation was everything but casual. His arms were strong and possessive. His expression spoke intimacy and understanding. His voice was deep, dusky and tender. And his eyes—oh, but the way his still-sleepy eyes met hers and held them—it was no less shocking than the way his body had cradled hers, warmed her through the night.

  Everything about this felt so very right that it could only be wrong. Very, very wrong.

  "Let me go, sir," she said, her own voice crackly and unsure.

  He touched her again, this time letting his finger tips trace along her cheek, running along her jaw and coming to rest on her lips. She blinked up at him, realizing he stared at her lips with an intensity that even she in her ignorance and inexperience could understand. He was going to kiss her again!

  She wanted that kiss so badly, too. She would give in to him, press herself against him and take all that he had to offer. She'd melt into this man and be lost ever after.

  Unless she didn't allow it. Of course she wouldn't allow it! She pushed away from him, slapping his hand away and struggling to free herself from his arms, the cloying blankets, and the desperate pleas of her own body to stay exactly where she had been.

  "No. This is all wrong, sir," she said, babbling for something to say as she tried desperately to regain an shred of decorum. "The ponies... I need to see to the ponies. Did the foal survive the night? Is Holly recovering well?"

  She crawled out of the pallet, grabbing at the stall walls to pull herself up onto shaky legs. One glance at the curious animals watching her and she could see that the little foal was far more steady on his own legs today than she felt on hers. Mother and child blinked in confusion at Carole's startling outburst in what had previously been such a quiet morning. She tried to calm herself, for their sakes.

  And then she noticed the shepherds leaning over the rail in the doorway.

  "Wondered when you were going to wake up," one of them said.

  Their lascivious grins said they very likely hoped she would not come to her senses so quickly and they might have been treated to some bit of a show. She shuddered to think just how close to giving them that show she almost came. The earl must have realized the same. He chuckled behind her.

  "Looks like our little friend their came through his first night among us," he said.

  The shepherds agreed. "A pretty little foal you've got. A fine Christmas gift for those children, I should expect."

  "Thank you," she said keeping her eyes far, far away from the earl. "And a merry Christmas to you."

  "Not as merry for us as it was looking for you," the shepherds chuckled.

  The earl interrupted them. "That'll do, fellows. Now tell us what special care our Christmas pony will need."

  "All that yer doing seems fine, sir. Keep the colt near his mother and keep her as happy as you can."

  "Do you think it will be safe for us to travel?" Carole asked. "The earl says we could put the foal in the wagon, but I wasn't sure if they needed a few days of quiet."

  "How far is it yer going?"

  "To West Timley the earl replied. "An easy two hours, as long as the roads are still good."

  "The storm's blown itself out, from the looks of things," the first shepherd said. "I'd guess the roads are good enough between here and West Timley I'd say you could make it, no trouble."

  That was good news. The last thing she needed was for the earl to insist on staying here with her for an extra day or two. Good heavens, she'd best get to the safety of Estelle's home quickly or there was no telling what might become of her. She'd already let the man kiss her, and now she'd spent the night in his arms!

  Surely he must be convinced she had not a shred of decency in her. He certainly wasn't showing any great distress over how she must be feeling at this point. He must think that was because she found it perfectly comfortable to be so intimate with a man.

  It had been perfectly comfortable, of course, but that was hardly the point. If he thought her any kind of proper female, shouldn't he recognize how she would be feeling this morning? He would clearly not be so cheerful if he had any idea that his actions made her feel very wicked, indeed. A lady should never feel quite as wicked as Carole was feeling now. Neither should a lady regret her own wickedness quite as little as she did.

  Heavens, but as the earl moved around their little stall, speaking softly to the mare and joking good naturedly with the shepherds, she could not help but let her eyes linger on him in the most unladylike fashion. She recalled how his hands felt as he touched her, his lips soft yet demanding as he kissed her... his very body commanding hers as she pressed up against him. Oh, but she was worse than wicked! She was hopeless. She wanted to do all of those things again.

  Her wanton thoughts were mercifully interrupted by the arrival of Basil and Mel. They joined the shepherds at the stall rail and called out a greeting. Carole was more than happy to see them and get a report on the condition of their brother.

  "Oh, Jasper is fine," Basil confirmed. "Nana gave him a nice place to sleep near the fire. He says he's hungry as an ox this morning, so I expect he'll be back to himself in no time."

  "And I was just getting used to the quiet," Mel said, causing Basil to laugh.

  "I'm so happy to hear that he's better," Carole said, then thought to question the shepherds. "And what of your lambs that were injured?"

  "Eager to get back to their mums, thank you, Miss. You letting us snag a ride in yer wagon got them out of that storm and under shelter just in time. They'll all three of them grow to be big healthy sheep, don't you worry for them."

  "Seems you and that clumsy old wagon did a lot of good for everyone yesterday," Basil noted to the earl. "We even got word this morning my horse turned up back in one of those villages we passed through. They're holding him for me. Nana says we need to stay here until after dinner then we can go get him."

  "She's got the pudding strung up already and a goose in the oven!" Mel chimed. "I don' t suppose you two should like to stay and eat with us?"

&n
bsp; The earl shook his head, coming up to stand very close to Carole.

  "Sorry, lads. I'm afraid my sister's likely got her own pudding waiting for us. We'll be leaving here just as soon as we can."

  "I figured as much," Basil said. "But don't go without seeing Nana. We told her what the lady said about your brother, that he was in a bad way. Nana says she's got just the thing for him."

  Carole caught the earl smiling at her. She looked away quickly and got very busy plucking straw out of Holly's mane.

  "That would be very appreciated," the earl said.

  The young men got distracted by some commotion in the stable around them. Obviously several other of the inn's patrons were preparing to get back on the road and activity was increasing. Carriages were being readied, horses were being harnessed, and very soon Carole would begin her new life at Estelle's home. It was, after all, Christmas day—a day of celebration and joy.

  She did not feel like celebrating, though. Foolish as it was, she could simply not look at this day as one of happiness. Instead, all she could think of was that she would be spending her last hours in the earl's presence. Once at Estelle's, he'd be caught up with family and all the things expected of him due to his lofty position. And then he'd be gone, headed back to his life in London. A life she would never be part of.

  She scolded herself for such maudlin thoughts and blinked back what might just possibly be tears. She was wicked, indeed, to feel sorry for herself on Christmas Day. It was beyond time to put girlish things away and be happy for what she had. She had a friend waiting for her, a fine home to go live in, a healthy pony and a new foal to deliver... all of these were miracles she could never have imagined just a few weeks ago. Surely they were more than enough to make up for one silly broken heart.

  "We'd best be getting ourselves together," the shepherds called over the increasing din around them. "Our fellows and wives will be wondering what happened."

  They bid them farewell and saw them off. The two young men also took their leave, keen to get back indoors to see what breakfast might be had.