“Was it?” Though relieved the matter was at an end, she felt no satisfaction. Mostly what she felt was sore and tired from sleeping atop her writing desk.
His hand, warm on her shoulder, gave a reassuring squeeze. “I wish I had your courage.”
She turned to meet Jonathan’s gaze—just as her brother’s head materialized behind his.
“By George,” Noah called from the doorway, “there you two are! The horses are harnessed and ready.”
When they joined the group gathered about the sleighs, one vehicle was already driving off.
“What the dickens?” Noah muttered, and moved off to consult with a groom. He soon returned to favor Claire with a sour look. “It would appear your Lord Milstead took it upon himself to drive out ahead—accompanied by Miss Harris.”
“He is not my Lord Milstead,” Claire informed her brother.
“I’m glad of that.” Noah shook his head. “He’s behaved most infamously.”
“And irregularly,” Jonathan added with a note of urgency. “Foolish though she’s been, we ought not leave Miss Harris in his power.”
“I agree,” Noah said. “I’m taking one of the grooms’ mounts to catch them. Harry is saddling her now.”
“I could go in your stead,” Jonathan offered, “should you wish to remain with your guests?—”
“I certainly do not wish that.” Through narrowed eyes, Noah watched Lady Caroline mount the foremost sleigh. When she looked round for him, he quickly turned away.
“She’s ready, milord.” Harry appeared at Noah’s elbow and handed him the reins of a dappled mare.
“Thank you, Harry. You’ll drive Lady Caroline?”
The groom bowed and headed off as Noah began to mount up.
“Mind yourself,” Claire advised him, patting the horse’s neck. “Lord Milstead is in a temper.”
“It’s he who should mind my temper,” Noah said darkly. “I’ll see you back at the castle, with Miss Harris in tow. Milstead, I fear, will be called away on urgent business. A pity he shall miss the Christmas Eve festivities.”
As he rode off, Claire turned back to survey her guests. On finding them all settled in their sleighs and ready to depart, she had naught to do but climb into her own seat. Her stomach fluttered when she realized that Jonathan and herself—both slighted by their original driving companions—would be obliged to share the final vacant sleigh.
When he handed her up, she felt exceedingly aware of his fingers grasping hers, even through the thick protection of their gloves. Now she recalled that, just before Noah’s interruption in the hovel, she’d had something she’d wanted to say to Jonathan. But she couldn’t remember the details.
Though her emotions were heightened, her thoughts seemed washed away by a swell of fatigue. She had to will her eyes to stay open once she’d settled in her seat and pulled a blanket over her lap.
The blanket pulled back; Jonathan had seized the same one. They shared an awkward laugh, both recalling Claire’s troubles with the earlier blanket. Relinquishing his hold, Jonathan began to rummage for another.
But he searched in vain, and a peculiar tension grew the longer he hunted, till Claire felt she should offer hers. Of course he graciously declined, and Claire’s own ingrained etiquette forced her to insist, and they went round in this manner for some time before she was on the point of acknowledging the inevitable: They would have to share the blanket.
Once she’d mentally accepted that solution, she began to fancy it.
And that’s when he discovered, at long last, the second blanket.
Thus settled in their respective places, under their separate blankets, they both stared straight ahead as the sleighs moved off. And before her weary mind could assemble the threads of what she’d wanted to tell him, Claire was asleep.
Twelve
AS JONATHAN drove back to Greystone, the sun began to dip, casting long shadows over the countryside. A sharp drop in temperature made Claire shiver in her sleep. Jonathan removed his blanket and threw it over hers, and the shivering ceased. Her head lolling onto his shoulder, she slept on.
Jonathan watched her face, glad she looked peaceful, and also glad that (at least for now) she was in his safe hands.
While she’d done an admirable job of banishing Milstead, there were plenty more men like him. And if, in the end, she banished Jonathan too, he feared he might be doomed to a permanent state of anxiety. For though it appeared she was recovering her old spirits, he couldn’t bear to think of her being mistreated.
Somewhere in the course of these bleak musings, he fell asleep himself, and woke to the thunk of the sleigh flying over a snowbank. He could see Greystone Castle drawing near. As the stablemaster had predicted, Serenity had done well for them, carrying them home in spite of the unconscious state of her driver—for which Jonathan could only feel immensely grateful and vastly foolish.
