A violent shudder went through her. Only a few more seconds and she’d be warm again.
When the door opened, she’d never been happier to see a butler. If she didn’t think the older man would have her committed to Bedlam, she would have thrown herself against him and wept with relief.
His gaze swept over her, and she didn’t have to say a word before he was ushering her into the house. In the end, she didn’t need to throw herself at the man because he wound an arm around her waist. She sagged against him as he helped her into the drawing room.
She wanted to apologize for the mess she was making with her wet boots, and a small corner of her mind fixated on the fact that she should be removing her cloak and hat. But the kindly butler didn’t seem to mind. She was shivering, and her chattering teeth rendered her incapable of thanking him.
He settled her into the wingback chair that was nearest the fireplace and then set about stoking the fire himself.
“Th-thank you,” she finally managed as she settled into the chair. She could feel that the house was warm, but she was still cold. “I’m s-sorry for being a b-burden. Is…” She broke off when a shudder wracked her body. “Is Sarah h-home?”
Instead of answering, the man went to a corner of the room and opened a cabinet. When he returned, he had a small blanket. He helped her to tuck it around herself and then turned to leave the room.
She closed her eyes, relief causing her to feel lightheaded. Everything was going to be fine now. Sarah would arrange for tea and the fire would eventually work its magic. She was going to be warm again… eventually.
“Miss Tyndale?”
She frowned. That voice didn’t belong to Sarah, and it didn’t have the slight wobble she normally heard in the butler’s voice. In fact, if she didn’t know better…
Her eyelids were heavy, and it took more effort than it should have to open them and turn her head to look at the man who’d addressed her.
Viscount Carlisle stood just inside the drawing room door. Tall, dark, and brooding.
She was too miserable to care that she probably looked horrible. Sarah’s older brother never paid her much attention, and right now she was very grateful for that fact. No doubt he was just surprised to see her and would turn around and leave soon.
“I’m... I’m here to visit w-with Sarah. It started sn-snowing.”
Another violent shiver went through her, and she had the alarming thought that she was never going to be warm again. Surely she’d been there long enough that she shouldn’t still be cold.
“Sarah isn’t here. She and Mother went to visit family for Christmas…”
His voice trailed off, and he started to frown. Why was this man so handsome even when he was angry?
“I’m sorry...”
A wave of dizziness streaked through her. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes again, perhaps take a little nap here in this armchair. Maybe when she woke up, she’d finally be warm again.
The viscount’s scowl deepened, and he seemed to be approaching at an alarming rate. He was saying something, but she couldn’t make out what it was.
Her last thought before darkness took hold was to hope that he didn’t think her impolite for ignoring him. She would be mortified if Sarah’s brother discovered she had developed an inconvenient fondness for him and went out of her way to hide that fact. But that didn’t mean she wanted him to think she disliked him.
CHAPTER 3
Millie shifted onto her side with a groan. She’d had the most unsettling dream that she’d had to trudge through an unexpected snowstorm while on her way to visit Sarah.
“Miss Tyndale, are you all right?”
She was still dreaming. There was no other reason she’d be hearing the unmistakable voice of Sarah’s brother right now. She scrunched her eyes together in an attempt to stay asleep. She’d had such dreams in the past, but she always woke up as soon as she realized she was dreaming.
When nothing happened, she sighed and opened her eyes. She prepared herself for disappointment and was pleasantly surprised to find Viscount Carlisle standing at the foot of her bed.
“Millie,” he said, closing his eyes briefly. He wasn’t scowling, but he did appear concerned.
She let out a soft breath. “I’m dreaming.”
And then his scowl returned, and she realized she wasn’t peacefully sleeping. “Why are you in my bedchamber?”
“Do you remember what happened?” He was staring at her, and she couldn’t understand why. Carlisle usually avoided her.
