Miss Winters Proposes (5 page)

Juliet’s gaze darted to the side. He really was being kind. And exceptionally thoughtful in his regard. The least she could was thank him—even if she didn’t require his assistance.

“Thank you, my lord. You have been—”

“Miss Winters.”

Harold stepped around the corner, reminding her of the efficiency of her staff. She had not rung the pull and yet there her man stood.

Juliet let out a breath, snapping her fingers and ushering Cleo to her side. “Please…please direct Lord Colwyn to his room. I believe it is beside our other guest, who is currently indisposed.”

Harold nodded. “This way, my lord.”

Benjamin remained rooted to his spot. “Miss Winters, I still think it would be best—”

“Good evening, my lord.” She spun on her heel and headed down the hall to comfort his bitch and indulge in a hot toddy. A very large and very hot toddy.

…

Benjamin paced the length of his moonlit guest room, his feet thumping on the chilled floorboards, his breath suspending in little white clouds with every disgruntled huff and perturbed grumble.

He was a gentleman.

He was also a fool. A lughead. And an imbecile of the highest order.

He had allowed three years of careful restraint, of tedious self-control and abstinence of any emotional attachment to be washed away in one gentle embrace.

If gentle were a word descriptive of the passionate encounter he had barreled down headfirst.

For her benefit, his arse.

Oh, his intentions might have been innocent and honorable, but they had disappeared with the first swipe of his tongue across her plush and far too pliable lips.

That, however, was entirely her fault. He had not expected Juliet to open her mouth with wanton abandon, or for her to melt like heated snow beneath his touch. He had expected her to be, well…something stiff, unyielding, and the entire opposite of the supple creature that stirred yearnings he had long suppressed—and did not wish to feel again.

Then again, he ought not to have been surprised by her passionate response. Juliet was the very essence of the word, her every action infused with zeal and a fervor for life itself. No other woman of his acquaintance would dare to call before breakfast or deign to offer for his hand in marriage. Juliet, however, had done both. And in one morning.

But instead of being shocked by her forward manners, he was intrigued by them. Too intrigued. And too damn affected.

Benjamin tossed aside the heavy curtains to see the first rays of sunlight glinting off stiff peaks of snow. The entire ground glittered in a white blanket of early winter. Perhaps a short and frosty walk before the rest of the house woke would get his mind off redheaded damsels in distress—and back on hounds and business.

Chapter Six

Ankle-long hemlines and at least two feet of ice-encrusted snow did not enable one to traverse a field easily. While it was true attempting to plow through crunchy drifts in any garment was a challenge, it was much easier done when outfitted in the proper attire, such as the men’s shirt, breeches, and wool greatcoat Juliet kept stored in her wardrobe for this sort of situation.

No one was likely to bear witness to her fashion violation, what with the early hour and the sun not having broken over the crest of the horizon. The indecent and inappropriate attire would long be folded and tucked away before anyone of consequence rose from bed, including one particular houseguest.

A houseguest who had, despite his insistence to the contrary, been proven wrong. Juliet’s door had not rattled once in the night. The roof over Frederick’s head, however, had likely lifted from its nails. She had heard his deafening snores through stone, wood, and the expanse of half the house.

As she had presumed, her intended proved the larger threat of the two men. While Benjamin had remained a gentleman and had not entered or even knocked at her door, his presence was still felt within the confines of her room. Indeed, his lips had haunted her through the evening hours, the very memory of his kiss causing an absence of slumber that made the hollows beneath her eyes a dark shade of violet, if the reflection in her mirror was any indication.

Thankfully, the bone-numbing temperatures offered her mind a respite from baggy eyes and unwanted flairs of desire that seemed to sputter to life whenever her future husband appeared.

Juliet pulled her coat tighter and giggled while watching her canine companions attempt to make sense of their cold surroundings. Knee-deep mounds provided great entertainment for the dogs, including Artemis. The viscount’s beloved pet bounded over the snow as though she had caught scent of a bird burrowing under a drift. Indeed, the liver-spotted hound now stilled into perfect hunting form, her tail erect, her legs outstretched, her entire body alert and tilting forward.

Was it possible the dog had discovered a buried feathered prize? Perhaps some quail for a delicious, hot bowl of stew?

She plodded through the snow, her father’s large boots slipping off her heels. “What did you find, girl?”

Artemis eyed her before breaking form and running toward the house—and the dark outline of a man trudging through the snow.

“No, no, no.” Juliet inhaled and winced, the biting air burning her lungs. This was not part of the plan. Nowhere in her outlandish scheme did the dog reunite with her owner
before
vows were exchanged.

Maybe it was a footman, out to check on her and the hounds. Or…or Frederick, wishing to have a private word with her before Benjamin woke for the day.

Or, as Artemis’s leaping and excited barking suggested, it was the viscount, who had, for some unknown reason, decided to venture out of doors before dawn.

Things were not progressing as she had planned. Why could he not stay indoors like every other normal gentleman?

Because then you would not have asked him to propose.

With a grumble, Juliet ran as fast as the snow would allow, which was, of course, not fast enough.

Benjamin’s voice boomed in the early morning stillness. “Artemis? Is it possible?”

In answer to his query, Artemis washed his face in a series of sloppy, wet kisses.

Wheezing and clasping her chest, Juliet arrived to see the unadulterated joy shining in Benjamin’s eyes. He rubbed his gloved fingers over the hound’s snow-covered coat. “I’ve missed you, girl.”

She almost felt sorry for breaking their reunion. It was clear the two had missed each other. Her future, however, was at stake; she could not afford to be sentimental.

Juliet lowered her voice in hopes that, combined with her more masculine attire, it concealed her identity. Heaven only knew what the man would do if he discovered it was his dog’s captor hidden beneath a man’s hat and greatcoat. “I will see to her now.”

“No.” His hands rubbed over Artemis’s fur. “I have been separated unjustly from my favorite four-legged companion, and I wish to enjoy our reunion.”

His words rang in her ears. Unjustly, yes. And dishonest, too. She was a horrible person for separating man from beast. The very idea of having one of her hounds held at ransom made her insides roil. And yet, she needed this marriage. Needed the security it provided. Fear of the alternative, of a life spent at Frederick’s side, stiffened her spine and forced her hand.

“My orders clearly state I am to return every dog to their quarters. It is time for their morning meal.”

He chuckled as Artemis doused him with another swipe of her tongue. “I do not question the validity of your orders. This particular hound, however, is no longer in Lord Roughton’s care. She is my bitch and I shall see to her comforts.”

Juliet licked her lips. “Yes, but this particular hound is in whelp. She requires extra attention and food. Food our kennels have in abundance. I assure you she will be treated with the utmost of care, my lord.”

“I am certain she would if I released her to you, but I have no intentions of letting her leave my sight.”

Benjamin glanced upward and squinted. “What did you say your name was?”

Her name? Juliet swallowed. She had to come up with something as asinine as a name while her toes froze near solid in her shoes, and her chances of marriage to the viscount slipped through her numb fingers?

“Udolpho.” She pulled her hat down to cover the heat rolling from her cheeks. Was she mad? Udolpho? As in the name of the novel residing on her vanity? Why had she not given the name of the authoress, Anne Radcliffe? It would have been equally incredible.

The viscount peered under the wide brim of her felt hat, his eyes widening with recognition. “Udolpho, indeed. What the devil are you doing out here? And in those”—he nodded toward her—“those clothes?”

Juliet glanced down at her apparel, the overly large coat gaping open from her sprint. She clutched it close with one hand and pointed to the pack of dogs still frolicking in the snow with the other. “I’m tending to the hounds, of course. They require exercise after an evening’s rest. That, however, does not explain why
you
are outside before dawn.” Especially when she had assumed he would remain in bed. Away from his pet.

“No. Nor does it explain why my dog is here, when you led me to believe she was elsewhere. However, seeing as no harm has been done and she appears—”

“Harm?” Juliet’s eyes widened. “Do you believe me capable of inflicting harm on any canine, let alone one in her condition?”

“You stole my bitch.” He stated his grievance in a no-nonsense tone as if that alone explained everything.

Her grip tightened on the coarse wool of her coat. “I did not
steal
her, per se. I hid her. And obviously not very well.”

“Yes, well now that she has been found, I would like her to remain with me.”

Marriage and independence slipped further from her numb fingers. Benjamin had what he wanted. He had no reason to stand on his offer. No reason, save for the fact he proclaimed himself a gentleman. And one who had, fortuitously enough, publically declared his engagement.

“And what of the engagement? Will you still…honor our arrangement?” Her voice caught in her throat. A cold wind swept across the field, stealing the very last vestige of warmth her borrowed clothes afforded. Her entire body trembled.

“You are cold.” It was an observation. A short statement of the obvious. Likely anyone within a ten-mile radius could hear her teeth clacking. He shrugged off his woolen coat and draped it over her shoulders. “We need to get you inside. Immediately.”

…

Joy. Relief. Astonishment. All three words described the rush of emotions that overwhelmed Benjamin at the sight of his most loyal and constant of companions. Artemis, with her dark brown nose and shiny coat, was an unexpected and most welcome sight on a frigid and sleepless morning.

His excitement at being reunited with his hound, however, was completely diminished by his future bride’s blue lips and trembling limbs.

What the devil was she doing out in the cold dressed in…well, God only knew whose clothes?

“Here.” He adjusted his coat over her. “You need to button it closed like this.” He slid one pewter button through a hole at her chest.

And wished he were doing the opposite. Inside. Preferably in a room lit with a roaring fire.

What the devil was wrong with him? This small creature had held his bitch as ransom. Had coerced him into a marriage he did not desire. He ought to leave her as a victim of the elements—cold and stranded, as he had felt at the loss of Artemis.

“I would b-button it, sir, b-but my fingers seem to have lost their flexibility. They will not b-bend. At least not willingly.”

Benjamin sighed, releasing his hold on the jacket and pulling the leather gloves from his fingers. “Take these. They should still be warm.” He thrust the pair toward her.

Her small hands fumbled with his offering, her fingers stiff and shaking with cold.

Despite his advantage, his sense of honor compelled him to offer a small note of assurance. He sighed again. “I am a man of my word. I will marry you, Juliet. That is, if you don’t die of cold first.”

He could no more deny his unwanted and growing attachment to his hound than he could the duty compelling him to uphold his offer of marriage to Juliet. He was a gentleman. And one who did not shirk his responsibilities—however much he wished to avoid them.

Juliet’s eyes widened, their clear blue depths filling with relief and astonishment. “Thank you. F-for these and your steadfastness concerning our engagement. I am g-grateful.”

“I’d much rather you were warm than grateful at the moment.” He winced, watching the greatcoat fall from her narrow shoulders. Snatching the heavy wool off the ground, he lifted it over her head and lowered it onto her shaking form.

This was utterly absurd. The poor girl was obviously frozen and in need of more warmth than the greatcoat provided. With a grunt, he lifted her out of the snow.

“I am p-perfectly capable of walking to the kitchens.” She squirmed against his chest.

“Perhaps, but you will be in poor health when you arrive.” A burst of wind lifted her hat to the side, freeing one of her brilliant-colored curls. Its softness tickled his face and smelled of mulling spices and cedar, like a holiday hearth laden with treats at Yuletide.

Treats she most undoubtedly tasted like, should he partake of her pleasures.

Benjamin swallowed and adjusted her in his arms.
Dogs
. He needed to focus on the dogs or the cold. Or both. Not on the warm body rubbing against his.

Her body shook in the ill-fitted clothes. “I am p-perfectly able to walk.”

“And I am perfectly able of carrying you. Which door is the kitchen?”

She pointed toward a small door off to the left. “There, on the east side. It should b-be unlocked.”

“Should? It is below freezing and you are not certain whether you have entrance to the inside?”

“It was unlocked when I used it last. Our cook could’ve assumed she left it open and relocked the bolt. Any number of scenarios could have happened in the past half hour, which is why I selected the word ‘should’ instead of something more definite.”

Benjamin rolled his eyes but remained silent.

He didn’t need this. Didn’t want this. His sole desire was solitude, and that meant being alone. By himself. With his sister’s coffers filled and his dog beside him for occasional companionship. There was no room for Juliet in his future. So why did he continue to think of the redheaded minx trembling in his arms, calling to his baser needs every time her bottom rubbed against his—

“The dogs. I need to call them inside.” Juliet placed her fingers into her blue lips and let out an earsplitting whistle. The hounds immediately stopped their play and followed him toward the rear of the house.

“There.” She pointed toward a door that was blessedly ajar.

Benjamin trudged through the remaining distance and nudged the door open. The room was void of servants, but a small fire sputtered in the hearth. Five dogs trailed behind him, their inquisitive noses sniffing at the table in anticipation of their meal.

He angled her inside and made his way toward the welcoming heat of the flames. “If you direct me toward the foodstuffs, I can feed the hounds while you warm by the fire.”

She shook her head and pushed against his chest. “It would be easier if I managed the chore myself.”

“Easier, yes, but—”

“I am not an invalid.” She set her feet onto the floor. She stumbled, and Benjamin found her once again in his embrace, her wide eyes peering up at him, her lips mere inches from his.

He knew the thick swell of desire her lips promised to unleash with their taste. His hands itched to pull her close so he might drink of their nectar.

Which was why he needed to remove himself from her at this very moment. He didn’t need this…this…attachment she threatened to impose. He was a recluse, a hermit, a damn bachelor, if not by name alone. He did not want entanglements, even if they hinted at being pleasurable.

Artemis whined, and Juliet tore her gaze from his to stare at the hounds. “I should see to them.”

His hands fell, and she turned toward the dogs, their wagging tails knocking metal bowls over in their excitement. If the household was not awake before, they were now.

Juliet slid off the bulk of the two greatcoats, hanging them on a set of hooks by the door. The absence of the woolen articles covering her revealed a pair of lust-inducing legs, thighs, and hips encased in a set of breeches that were no longer the masculine garment of their original design, but a showcase of feminine curves and edges.