The clatter of feet as they ran upstairs rattled the breakfast china.
Grace pushed away from the table as Mrs. Muir stood. “How long do you think it will take you to get home from here?”
The other woman shook her head. “I’m not sure, since a lot depends on our country roads. But probably no more than two hours.”
Grace smiled. “That’s good news.”
Together they walked to the hall, where the Muir’s large bags already waited, along with an assortment of outer garments. Edward had opened the front door and she could see the family’s carriage ready for its passengers, the horses making clouds of steam in the cool damp air.
“I do believe that might be a sunbeam,” she said optimistically, peeking around the doorjamb.
“A good omen,” agreed Perry, joining them.
“How do we thank you?” Mrs. Muir tied her bonnet beneath her chin. “We would have been in dire straits if not for your kindness.”
Grace stopped her by holding up her hand. “As we said before, no thanks are necessary. Your company has been most pleasurable and this entire trip will be an adventure I look back on with a great deal of delight.” She paused. “If you truly want to thank us, then the next time a traveller is in distress, you can help them as we helped you.” She smiled. “How does that sound?”
“What a splendid notion, Mrs. Chaney. A delightful suggestion.” Mrs. Muir beamed at them both. “I suppose you’ll be heading back to town?”
Perry nodded. “We will indeed. But it should be no problem for us since we’ll be on well-travelled roads within half an hour.”
Grace found herself swallowing down a measure of disappointment at his words. Of course they could not stay here. It was not Perry’s house; he was merely a prospective buyer. Plus, it was Christmas Eve, so doubtless he had plans for this evening.
She sighed, squared her shoulders and set about bidding a final farewell to the unexpected guests.
There were hands shaken, heads rubbed, a hug from little Elizabeth, and more grateful thanks from the Muirs. Finally, after retrieving a missing mitten, and ensuring that Jonathan had taken care of personal matters before getting into their carriage, they were ready to leave.
“Have a safe journey,” called Perry, as hands emerged from the windows and began to wave.
“Goodbye. Happy Christmas.” Grace waved back, catching her breath as one lead horse lost his footing for a brief instant, then quickly got back into step with his fellows. “Will they be all right?” She glanced at Perry.
He smiled back. “Yes, I’m sure they will. If the roads are not paved, then the worst that can happen is they’ll arrive home with a very dirty coach. If the roads are paved, they’ll make excellent time.” He pointed at a shrub just outside the steps. The leaves were shiny and dripping. “See? The ice is almost gone.”
She nodded and walked back into the hall. “Then I must tidy up and gather my belongings.”
He gave her an odd look, then closed the door. “Yes, we must be on our way too.”
*~~*~~*
All too soon they were tucked into Perry’s travelling carriage and casting last looks at the house where they had encountered such unexpected events.
Perry sighed and leaned back against the squabs, watching the countryside roll past. “Well, what do you think, Grace…should I purchase the place? Rename it Hawkesbury Hall or some such thing?”
She turned to him, her expression calm. “It would seem to be a solid building, and as we noticed, the rooms are well arranged. I would expect there to be some outlay for repairs and renovations, or whatever you felt might suit you better, but the location is convenient and the property most attractive.” She folded her hands in her lap. “Far be it from me to advise you on such things, but you could do a lot worse.”
“I agree,” he nodded. “It has the additional charm of already housing a skeleton staff which has proved itself amazingly capable. For that alone, it would be worth the purchase price.”
“Indeed.”
“You liked it, then?” He watched her hands as her fingers moved restlessly inside her kid gloves.
“I did. It has all the makings of an excellent country home, and I can only imagine the pleasant vistas once spring comes. If it ever does,” she added.
Perry wasn’t sure what to say. This conversation was quite proper, their tones modulated, the subject matter appropriate to the moment.
Yet behind the civilised facade, he wanted to seize her, pull her onto his knees and delve beneath her skirts. Or under her travelling cloak. Or anywhere he could feel skin, because she was the softest thing he’d ever felt and he craved more. Much more.
But instead they sat side by side, chatting about nothing in particular, passing comments on the weather, and presenting the appearance of two acquaintances sharing a journey, rather than two lovers who had passed some heated hours the night before twined around each other in deliciously disgraceful nudity.
