“Where are you going?” Lord Griffin asked as she sloshed her way forward.
“To fetch the spare key.” Reaching the overhang next to the cottage, she reached up under a wooden beam and unhooked a key from a nail there. She held it up for Lord Griffin to see. “Victory. Come on.”
“You came all this way without being sure you’d be able to get inside the house?” He sounded incredulous.
“Of course not. I knew the key would be here.” She made her way back toward the front door of the main house. “Or at least I was very certain it would be.” He muttered something inaudible behind her, and she grinned in response. “Cassandra has the other copy, and I did not stop to think about asking her for it during my escape from Camberly House.”
“Are you always this spontaneous?”
She placed the key in the lock and turned it, then pushed the door open and entered the foyer. It wasn’t warm, but at least it was dry. “I don’t think so,” she said, answering him after a moment’s consideration.
He closed the door, shutting out the rain and the wind. Puddles started forming at both their feet, and Emily suddenly felt the chill more severely than when she’d been outside walking. “We should light some oil lamps and start a fire.”
“I’d recommend doing so in the kitchen so we can prepare some hot tea as well.”
“Agreed.” She led the way and then pointed out where the wood was kept so he could start making the fire while she lit a couple of oil lamps. Their glow illuminated the interior and brought Lord Griffin’s lack of a jacket into sharp focus. His shirt and waistcoat clung to his back as he bent before the fireplace, the shirtsleeves gripping his arms to accentuate his toned muscles.
Emily swallowed and realized her throat had gone dry. She took a step back, almost stumbling over a chair. “I’ll fetch some water,” she muttered. “For the tea.” As if that needed explaining.
She spun away and went to collect a couple of bottles that were kept in the pantry. The water inside them wouldn’t be fresh, but that didn’t matter since she would be boiling it anyway. And it was better than having to go back out into the storm in order to pump water from the well.
Collecting a kettle, Emily filled it and set it on the kitchen table. “This is ready to be hung above the fire,” she said while trying not to stare at Lord Griffin. He’d risen from his crouched position and was standing by the fireplace, prodding the wood there with a poker, and dear God, she could not think straight. Not with his wet trousers hugging his thighs in the most incredible way and...
She cleared her throat. “I’m off to get changed. Make yourself comfortable. I shall see you in a bit.” Grabbing one of the oil lamps, Emily fled upstairs to her bedchamber and shut the door firmly behind her.
Inhaling deeply, she took several breaths in an effort to slow her rapid heart rate. The most gorgeous man in the world was presently in her kitchen, and she was in serious danger of making a fool of herself. Sighing, she pushed his jacket off her shoulders and hung it across the back of a chair. If they were going to make this bizarre partnership of theirs work, she would have to be able to look at him without losing her wits. Which would likely become a lot easier once his clothes dried and he could be properly attired again.
With this in mind, Emily went to work on the buttons of her gown, which involved a bit of contorting. Eventually, she ended up tearing some of them off, but since the alternative was to ask Lord Griffin for help, she decided the extra work spent with her sewing kit later would be the better option.
Crossing to her chest of drawers, she found a clean chemise, stays, and stockings, which she put on before selecting a plain indigo dress with long sleeves from her wardrobe.
Reminded of the fact that Lord Griffin would not have any dry clothes to change into, she found a large blanket in the chest at the foot of her bed and hurried back downstairs. What she was not prepared for when she returned to the kitchen was to find him sitting before the fire without his shirt or waistcoat on. Indeed, he was totally naked from the waist up, which was something of a shock since she’d never seen any man so scantily clad before.
Being the practical sort, Emily knew that accepting the situation for what it was would be the only way for her to have some tea, so she took a step forward and ignored the riotous nerves in her belly. They would not help her any more than the soft little shiver that tickled her spine when Lord Griffin heard her and glanced her way. Her determination to remain unaffected by him was rapidly proving as useless as her soggy slippers upstairs.
And then he stood, as gentlemen were trained to do when a woman entered a room. Except most gentlemen did not put their nipples and chest hair on bold display. Even as she feared her heart might seize, Emily’s fingers tingled with the most absurd desire to reach out and touch him. Without even thinking, she lowered her gaze and was briefly distracted by a fainter dusting of hair leading from his naval toward his waistline.
She snapped her gaze back to his and held the blanket toward him as rigidly as if she were holding a rotting cabbage at arms length. “This should help keep you warm,” she muttered while brazenly staring straight into his dark brown eyes. Looking away would show embarrassment and weakness, and she refused to let him think she might be suffering from either. Even though she was well aware of the heat rushing into her cheeks and the wobbly uncertainty of her knees.
“Thank you.” He accepted the offering with a smile, his fingers grazing hers as he took it.
Emily counted to five in her head and then finally did turn away, more eager than ever for a cup of hot tea. She searched the table for the kettle, but it wasn’t there.
“It’s already hanging over the fire,” Lord Griffin told her, apparently well aware of what she sought. “The water should be boiling soon, so all we need is a pot and some tea.”
“I’ll see to it.” Emily rummaged around until she found the items. She looked at Lord Griffin from the corner of her eye and saw he was wrapped up quite nicely now in the blanket. A smile tugged at her lips. This was by far the most unexpected situation she’d ever thought to find herself in.
A thought struck her. “Are you hungry? There should be some cured meat, some preserves, and a bit of cheese in the larder.”
“That would be welcome until we’re able to buy fresh supplies tomorrow.”
“All right then. If you can add the boiling water to the pot here, I’ll prepare a couple of plates for us to enjoy.”
Intent on focusing on the task she’d set herself instead of on Lord Griffin’s unavoidable presence, Emily went to find as much variety as she could among the supplies. Everything she’d mentioned to him could be found, including a tin containing a few remaining biscuits she’d baked last month.
Piling everything into her arms, she returned to the kitchen and almost dropped it all on the floor when she spotted Lord Griffin’s trousers hanging across the back of a spare kitchen chair. Were those his smalls, right beside them? She gulped, which was something she never did. But really, how could she not when the only thought spinning inside her head was that he was now completely nude beneath that blanket.
Dear God in heaven, she could even see his shins and his feet, just as bare as the rest of him. Closing her eyes for a second, Emily inhaled deeply through her nose.
