“We should not.” She glanced at him. “For I think we both know that to do so would be to tempt fate. Now is not the time for either of us to embark on such a course.”
He was silent for several minutes, as they made their way along the path. It was more difficult now, since the snow covered some of the roots and stones that threatened to trip them. Harriet wondered if he was simply trying to keep his footing or if he was pondering her words.
The latter turned out to be true. “I hate to agree, but you’re right. The timing is appalling.”
She fought the sting of tears at the back of her eyes. “I don’t know how long I will be here. At Ridlington. That’s up to Letitia, I suppose.”
“And the way things are going, there’ll be a wedding in the offing soon, I’d say.”
Harriet chuckled. “Don’t be so sure about that.”
“Are you jesting? Do you really think James would spend the night with a woman and then not offer for her?”
“He may offer all he wants,” said Harriet. “But it doesn’t mean she’ll accept.”
Paul turned his head to look at her, and stumbled, tripping and almost falling but catching himself on her arm at the very last moment. He pulled hard as he staggered, but she managed to keep her footing.
And nearly lost it when a shot rang out, startling her and making an owl screech loudly in the trees.
“Down,” whispered Paul, dragging her to the ground beside him.
“What the devil…”
“Shush. Quiet now.”
They lay there, silent, the snow falling on them, for what seemed like years. Harriet began to shiver as her skirts dampened and allowed the cold to reach her calves above her boots.
The silence returned, a muffled hush broken only by the occasional plop of snow from a branch to the ground beneath. She turned in Paul’s arms and moved her head near to his. “Can we get up now, do you think?”
He nodded. “We cannot lie here all night…my hope is that whoever took that shot has either realized his mistake or didn’t know we were here at all.”
“Let’s hope for the latter.” She gathered her clothing as Paul sat up and shook the snow off his cloak.
He froze and pushed her down as they both heard footsteps approaching.
“Mr. DeVoreaux… are you there? Are you all right?”
“Good God.” Paul stood up. “Hodgkins? Is that you?”
“Aye, sir.” The man appeared out of the snowfall, a dark shadow resolving itself into the face and figure of the driver. “I heard the shot and followed your footsteps.”
“Did you see anyone?” asked Harriet, rising to her feet. “Or hear anyone? Was that shot an accident?”
“Not a soul, Ma’am. Just the sound of the gunshot. Rifle, if I’m not mistaken.”
“I agree,” said Paul as he turned to make sure Harriet was all right.
“Paul.” She gulped.
“What?”
“Your jacket. It’s damp. And I don’t think it’s snow…”
He looked down, and then swayed. “Well I’ll be damned. I’mshot…”
*~~*~~*
The sun was trying to peek above the horizon when James and Letitia departed FitzArden Hall on the mount James had fetched from the stables at first light. He might have been noticed, but since there were so few grooms in the stable, he felt it was worth the risk.
