Chapter 9 #2
Scarlett gathered a large bundle of greenery as she made her way through the sitting room, passing through the Green Room, where she smiled at some of the footmen.
It seemed the servants were rather enjoying this bit of festivity, as everywhere she looked all were getting in on the fun.
Oak Hall — that was where she would focus her attention.
It branched off the foyer and was continually used to reach nearly every other room of the house, by both herself and the servants alike.
Determining the best placement for her boughs, she began to retrace her steps, nearly running into the valet.
“Ah, Spicer,” she said with a smile, and he returned her look with a youthful grin. “Do you suppose you could fetch the library steps? I was thinking to hang this from the entrance into the room.”
“Of course, my lady,” he said, and returned moments later with the wooden steps, which reached fairly high, perfect for the tall bookshelves that lined the library. “Allow me.”
“No, no, I am perfectly fine,” she said, then remembering Marion tying together the greenery in the drawing room, she was inspired. “I am sorry to ask another favor of you, but I don't suppose you could fetch me more boughs?”
“Of course, my lady,” he said. “I’ll be back shortly.”
“Take your time,” she said sweetly, then began the climb up the steps.
Standing on the top step, she estimated she was still about an inch from the frame of the doorway, despite standing on the very tips of her toes and reaching as far as she was able.
She only needed to stand on the very top of the steps, flush with the railing, and then she could reach the doorframe.
She had always had decent balance, likely from years atop a horse.
She took a step, smiling when she was at the correct height.
“Here we are,” she murmured, fastening the ribbon to the top.
“Perf—” Her words were cut off with a shout, however, as the ladder began teetering beneath her.
She flailed her arms wildly as she attempted to regain her balance, but suddenly there was nothing to which she could affix her foot, as the steps began to tip forward.
She cringed as she prepared herself to meet the floor, but instead of hardwood crashing into her back, she was caught by a pair of arms that seemed to come out of nowhere.
She opened her eyes to find her husband’s handsome face before her.
Hunter’s arms tightened around her, and she could feel his warmth through her dress.
He pulled her even closer, as though he could keep her safer that way.
“My God, you scared me.” His forehead came to hers, his lips but a breath away.
Her pulse quickened, in part from her near-fall, but also from him .
Oh, she could tell herself he had no effect on her, but her body was saying something entirely different.
When his lips descended, she met them with a desperation she didn’t know was inside of her.
What was she doing? This was not following in line with her intentions.
All thought left her, however, as he drank her in, and she felt as though she were drowning, from his taste to his touch to the weightless feeling from simply being held by him.
His lips left hers just as abruptly as he had kissed her, but he continued to hold her, the two of them staring at one another, his breathing just as ragged as hers.
Get ahold of yourself, Scarlett . Her attachment to him was growing, but as soon as the weather broke and the roads cleared, he would be back in London and she would be left here, alone.
As the thoughts flooded in, she dropped her head, breaking their connection.
When she looked back up, Hunter’s eyebrows had come together in a vee as he looked at her with some consternation.
“What were you doing?” he asked, his voice a mix of incredulity as well as a thread of anger.
“Decorating,” she managed. She would not be cowed by him, though it was difficult to focus when she was still slightly shaken from her near-fall.
“What were you thinking?” he demanded now as he strode toward one of the chairs lining the side of the room, setting her down upon it as he crouched beside her. “You were standing on the very top of the ladder! You could have killed yourself.”
“Well,” she replied calmly, her hand fisting around her locket, twisting it from side to side as she felt the need to defend herself. “I didn’t, now did I?”
He ran a hand through his curls as he stood and paced before her. “What is going on here, anyway? My entire staff is bustling around, covering the house in … in trees!”
“Do you not recall last night?” she asked, raising her eyebrows, and when he stopped his movements and looked back at her, she knew he was remembering more than simply gathering some greenery.
“Of course I do,” he muttered. “But I never thought this would be the result.”
“This is Christmas, Hunter,” she said primly, “and as we are both stuck here, you best get used to it.”