UnexpectedChristmas (2 page)

Read UnexpectedChristmas Online

Authors: Jean Hart Stewart

With a sigh, he turned down the covers of the bed, picked
her up and placed her on it. Her eyes fluttered open but he pulled the blankets
up around her. He kissed her forehead lightly and saw her plunge deep into
slumber again. He took the key and left, locking her in.

He’d hear her soon enough when she woke and panicked at
being imprisoned. He couldn’t take a chance some oaf might try the door and be
delighted he could attack the new young lady. With a smile, he went to his own
room, stripped off his boots and outer garments and climbed into the pitifully
short bed. Not nearly long enough for his large frame but he’d slept in worse
during the war. The war, where his father had assured he’d been nothing but a
courier. He’d managed to get in a little fighting but not as much as he’d wished.
With a wondering thought as to how the Iron Duke was faring after Waterloo, he
drowsed a little. Wellington had been dreadfully sorrowed by the heavy losses
of his men, to the point of worrying all his friends.

As one whose own life had also changed with that epic
battle, he knew well how the duke felt. They both had been obliged to go home
to duties they hated. If his father ever allowed him any real authority in
running the estates he might feel differently.

Suppressing his unwelcome thoughts, he determined to go to
sleep. Unfortunately, his brain didn’t cooperate. It was quite a while before
his restless mind let him relax. Thoughts of war and wondering about the girl
next door alternated, as he silently cursed the double-damned tavern.

* * * * *

Sebastian wakened with a smile when he heard the clamor he’d
expected. A very imperious voice came from next door.

“Somebody let me out of here before I shout the very roof
off this disreputable inn.”

He leisurely yawned, grinned, got to his feet and wrapped
his robe around him. Going to the hall, he quietly unlocked the door and let
loose a termagant spitting insults.

“You…you beast. You claim you’ll protect me and then lock me
in my room. Doubtless you meant to let yourself in whenever it pleased you.”

Sebastian was taken back not by her flailing fists, which he
barely felt on his muscled chest, but by the beauty of an enraged female with
flashing violet eyes and blonde hair loosened by sleep and trailing down her
back and breasts. Good god, it flowed to her waist. Even in her ridiculous and
shabby gown her figure was enough to rouse a statue into admiration. Not to
mention the loveliness of a face now animated, flushed and so kissable he
actually started to lower his head.

Good god, what was he doing? She was right, he’d said he’d
protect her. Suddenly that seemed like a promise he might well regret.

Trying not to stare at the heaving of her rounded breasts,
he assumed as bored a tone as he could manage.

“I did not want to waken you after you tried the bed and fell
soundly asleep. Locking you in was the only way to protect you without staying
in the room all night with you. Perhaps you would have preferred that?”

As she quieted, her large eyes fixed on him made him take a
step forward. Good god, how had this girl hidden her beauty so successfully? He
could lay her on the bed and take her in an instant, if he’d not recognized
what he’d suspected since his first look at her cloak-draped figure. She was a
lady, come upon hard times, but born and raised a lady.

“Even so, someone tried to get in both our locked doors last
night. I would have taken care of him if he’d persisted. This is not a safe
place for any girl, let alone one as beautiful as you.”

She flushed as she recognized her own disordered state and
her flowing hair. It took her only a moment to regain her composure. She
gathered her hair and flung it over one shoulder. When she did raise her eyes
she looked around with contemplation.

“I was wrong. I’m sorry, sir. My name is Atterby. Caroline
Atterby. I thank you for helping me last night. But why is the inn so quiet?
This time of day there should at least be a cook bustling around the kitchen.
Shouldn’t someone have come running with the unseemly racket I was making?”

My dear God, not only beauty but also self-possession and a
sharp mind.

He stilled, not moving a muscle as he listened. There was no
noise at all. No sound of the innkeeper scurrying around, cleaning up from the
night before. No chatter from downstairs. No sign of clatter coming from the
kitchen or of anyone preparing to serve the guests breakfast.

“And I’m Sebastian Trantern. Something is very strange. I’ll
go investigate.”

As he wheeled to go she caught his sleeve.

“I’m going too.”

He saw no way to stop her peacefully. He hoped the inn was
truly empty and he’d be the only one privileged to see her rare beauty.

They descended the stairs together, not saying a word. The
barroom had not been well-cleaned. The dirty glasses had been removed but the
room itself had not been touched. Chairs were still overturned and litter
cluttered. The fire in the big fireplace was down to embers. The kitchen held
no sign of recent activity. Dishes and tumblers were piled in the big sink. No
sign of breakfast having been prepared or served to anyone.

The silence seemed to reverberate as they both gazed and
came to the same conclusion.

They were alone in an abandoned inn.

Caroline spoke first, in a voice that shook.

“We’ve been deserted. We’re alone with no servants and it
looks like it’s been snowing heavily all night. I can’t believe the innkeeper
left nothing but a note for us. And I would guess we have no way to leave.”

Sebastian had been prowling the room. He soon came back to
her, a slip of paper in his hand.

“This was left by the stove. Shall I read it to you?”

“Yes, please.” Her voice was not quite so hostile and he
began to read.

“I’ve received word my wife is going into labor. I don’t
know what I can do for her but I have to go. It’s doubtful we can even get a
message to the local doctor. I’ve done what I can for you, my lord. But I must
leave. Wood is stacked outside the kitchen door. I advise you not to let the
fire go out. The path to the jakes has been cleared daily so you can still get
there, although with this amount of snow it will need shoveling again when you
wake up. I’m sure the roads will clear in a day or so. I’ll be back or send
someone as soon as I can.”

“That’s all?”

Her questioning voice was steady. He could almost see her
marshalling her resources.

“Yes. From the state of the fire, I’d best go see about
bringing in more wood. What a damnable development.”

Her eyes met his steadily. She’d not even flinched when he
mentioned using the jakes.

“But your horse, sir? Surely you can saddle him and ride for
help.”

He shook his head. “I sent my valet off with my horses,
Trujax and Suleiman, to find better quarters for both of them than this stable.
I can only hope they did. Trujax has been with me for years.”

Seeing her eyes lighten with amusement, he added hastily,
“Of course I’m concerned about Bates too, you regrettable girl.”

She grinned and turned away.

“I’ll go get more appropriately dressed and be down to see
what the larder contains.”

Without another word she ran up the stairs.

Sebastian’s eyes followed her. What an unusual female.
Instead of having to spend time consoling her, he found he’d better match her
pragmatic attitude. Forget the indisputable effect she had on his unruly cock.
They had to work together to survive.

This was definitely not the time to linger on licentious
thoughts of the beautiful girl running up the steps. Even in motion she was
graceful and appealing. That well-rounded bottom was a delight.

He wanted above all else to go after her. Indeed he did. Not
to catch her but to get decently dressed himself. He’d better concentrate on the
not-so-simple act of keeping them both alive.

To think he’d survived Waterloo only to be facing death by
freezing in a disreputable inn.

Fate was inscrutable.

With a sigh, he went out to check the woodpile.

And found it, as expected, covered by about eight inches of
snow from the night’s storm. Well, they could expect no help today from anyone
but themselves. He’d better bring the embers in the fireplace back to life and
get the damn inn warmed up. He’d hate to think of trying to start a new fire.
That would make matters infinitely worse.

At least the snow had stopped sometime during the night.

He set to work, carrying in a few logs and arranging the
smaller ones on dying embers. Resigned to necessity, he flexed his arms and
began to use the nearby bellows. He watched as the air fanned a few sparks.

After all, what else was there to do except to, quite
literally, live through this?

* * * * *

Caroline found the food in the larder adequate but decidedly
monotonous. Eggs, several loaves of bread, slices of ham, a huge chunk of
cheese and a handful of carrots. Probably there was a food cellar outside,
buried in snow and inaccessible. At least they wouldn’t starve. There was a
goodly supply of coffee bean, but no milk, and she saw only one full jug in the
kitchen.

She grabbed a kettle and headed for the back door. Best to
bring in some snow to melt. Water was the prime necessity. As she opened the
door she saw Sebastian, wielding a shovel and attacking the drifts from the
previous night. He’d not put on his greatcoat and had stripped off his jacket.
As his shoulders and arms began to use the shovel she could see the powerful
muscles under his shirt. His corded chest and abdomen strained when he heaved
snow to the side of the path.

As he threw the shovelful up and onto the snowbank that was
higher than his head, she stood transfixed. No matter what else she thought of
him, he was the most handsome specimen of sheer virile manhood she’d ever seen.
Actually, the most she’d even dreamed of. He was magnificent. Simply
magnificent. Not that she was prey to such blatant perfection.

He seemed to feel her presence and he turned around and
grinned.

“I love physical activity, even if it’s something this
prosaic. I seldom get a chance to actually indulge. This feels good.”

Almost speechless, she looked around and saw the jakes at
the end of the path and her mouth quirked in amusement.

“A most necessary effort, my lord. I’ll have breakfast ready
when you’re done.”

His grin widened as he leaned on the shovel.

“We’re going to be together for a few days and I detest this
‘my lord’ business. Please call me Sebastian.”

She turned and then looked back over her shoulder.

She hesitated and then surrendered. Even if it were only a
few days, she’d love to use his name.

“And I’m Caroline. But I’m usually just Caro to my friends.”

His dark eyes flashed and then locked on hers.

“Then I’ll definitely call you Caro.”

He resumed shoveling while she stood flushed and flustered
out of all proportion. He was a practiced rake who knew well how to tie women
in knots. That burning glance meant nothing.

This was just his routine way of charming a woman. She’d pay
no attention to any of his lighthearted ways. Still she paused to again admire
his magnificent physique as he tackled the mounds of snow. It was truly an
effort to stop watching him.

Snorting to herself at her foolishness, she filled the
kettle with snow and brought it in to swing on the iron spike set over the
fire. They’d need more snow, lots more, but his physically inclined lordship
might be glad of an excuse to keep exercising that beautiful body.

She deliberately shut down the image of his powerful strokes
with the ax and set about providing an adequate breakfast for them both. If
they were bound in for more than a day or two the fare might grow monotonous
but at least they wouldn’t starve. She wondered how long the bread would hold
out with a man who doubtless ate in proportion to his large frame.

She’d never made bread. Still, she’d better check the dry
cupboard to see if there was any flour.

* * * * *

When Sebastian came in the door, exuding masculine strength
and thoroughly pleased with himself, she quickly looked down at the breakfast
she’d prepared. She didn’t know how to hide the physical attraction she felt at
just the sight of him. He’d pulled on his jacket but that did little to
disguise his superb body.

“Your breakfast is ready, my lord.”

Her voice was more reserved than she’d intended. Just the
thought of being alone with him for two or three days made her heart leap in a
most unbecoming way.

He’d pulled out her chair. “Prickly again, are we, Caro? I
think I’ll not answer you until you call me Sebastian. No, I won’t even eat,
even though I’m fair to starving.”

He waited until she was seated then sat down, staring
pointedly at his plate. He did not even pick up his fork, just looked at her in
mischievous inquiry. She sat for a moment and then capitulated.

“Oh for heaven’s sake. Sebastian. There. Do eat. It wasn’t
easy cooking eggs over a fire. Don’t waste my efforts, please.”

He still didn’t eat. “Did you burn yourself?”

Taking her hands, he examined the palms and then dropped
them, smiled and picked up his fork.

He didn’t even try to control his sigh of relief and
pleasure as he tackled the four-egg omelet she’d made for him. She herself had
two eggs and she passed him a plate of cold toast and only took one piece for
herself. Sebastian looked at her in inquiry, and when she shook her head, ate
the rest.

“There are coffee beans but I couldn’t find a grinder. The
tea leaves are stale but I could fix you a cup of that.”

He thought for a moment. “I could use a hammer and crack the
beans, I suppose. Steeped in water they might be better than poor tea. I’m not
fond of tea, in any case.”

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