What the devil would she think?
When he raised his head, it did not look as if she was thinking much of anything at all. Her eyes were closed and she seemed a bit dazed.
“Oh, the devil,” he said. Which was a marvelous way of groveling and apologizing. The snow seemed to have frozen his brain.Disrespectfuldid not even begin to cover what his behavior had been.
“Do we have a few broken legs and heads in here?” Alexander’s voice called, cheerful enough when one considered his words.
“That was a spectacular landing,” Harry said, offering his hand to Elizabeth as Colin scrambled to his feet.
“If we were giving prizes,” Wren said, knee deep in snow as she brushed at Colin’s greatcoat, “you two would win the trophy for the most spectacular disaster.”
“But alas,” Harry said, “you get only the glory.”
“You look dazed, Lizzie,” her mother was saying. “You did not hurt yourself, did you?”
“Oh, not at all,” Elizabeth assured her, laughing. “Not even my pride is dented. I was not the one steering.”
“I might have known I would be blamed,” Colin said. “Well, heap it on. My shoulders are broad.”
“I say,” one of Molenor’s boys called from a short distance away, “I have never seen anything so funny in my life.”
The boy was obviously given to hyperbole—as was Wren.
“Ah,” Alexander said. “Perfect timing. The sleigh is coming with something to warm us.”
It was indeed, and it was a very welcome distraction. A couple of servants, bundled up and smiling cheerfully, had arrived with two large containers of steaming chocolate and one of hot punch as well as a jar of sweet biscuits and a covered dish of warmed mince pies. They all tucked into the repast as though they had been fasting all day and warmed their gloved hands about their steaming mugs, ignoring the handles.
“We must have feathers for brains,” the dowager duchess said, “spending the afternoon shivering out here when we could be warm and comfortable indoors. And dry.”
“I would not have missed this for all the comfort in the world, Mama,” Lady Jessica cried, though she was breathing in the steam from her chocolate as she spoke. “This is the best Christmas ever. Is it not, Abby? And there is still the party to look forward to tomorrow evening and some fresh faces.”
“It is the best,” her dearest friend agreed. “Gentlemen as well as ladies, I hope. Tomorrow, that is.”
“Oh, to be young again,” the dowager duchess said. “I am returning to the house. Althea, will you come too?”
“I will indeed, Louise,” Mrs. Westcott said. “Though I do agree with Jessica. A family Christmas is always a lovely thing, but a family Christmas with snow—and a Boxing Day party to look forward to—is unsurpassable.”
She left Elizabeth’s side and Colin took her place before he could lose his nerve completely. In which case he would have found himself in the impossible situation of having to avoid both her person and her eye for the rest of his life.
“Elizabeth,” he said, “will you forgive me?”
She did not pretend not to know what he was talking about. “For the kiss?” she said, smiling at him. “There is nothing to forgive.”
“I do not know what came over me,” he said. “I did not…Well, I did not mean any disrespect. Whatever will you think of me?”
“I will think nothing,” she assured him, “except that you were quick enough to know that a dumping in the deep snow was preferable to a collision with another sled. And that you comforted me afterward with a kiss. It was both appreciated and flattering. And it will be forgotten from this moment on.”
“Well,” he said. “I have rarely embarrassed myself more.”
She laughed and removed one hand from about her mug to set on his sleeve. “I hope I have not spoiled your day,” she said, patting his arm. “My mother was quite right about a family Christmas—with snow. I hope you feel we are in some way your family too.”
“Thank you,” he said. “I do. It has been a joy to come here, though I love my home too. Have you seen where I live—Withington House? It is a lovely place.”
“I saw it last year when Wren still lived there,” she said, “before she married Alex. I went there the day after I first met her in the hope of making a friend of her, and we have been friends ever since.”
“I hope you will come there again before you return home,” he said. “Maybe with Alexander and Wren and your mother. I believe you intend to stay on for a while after everyone else returns home.”
“We do,” she said. “Do you intend making Withington your permanent home?”
