Chapter 22
Scarlett all but ran up the stairs to her bedchamber, slamming the door and sinking down in a crouch against it, until she found herself a blubbering mess on the floor.
This wasn’t like her, not at all. She was normally assured, confident, willing to take on whatever risks came her way.
Her mother had been right. It was love that made her this way.
Weak. Inconsistent. Unsure. She had been resolved to go with Hunter to London, until that final moment.
Now he would hate her, she was sure of it.
Would he find comfort in the arms of someone else?
Someone like Lady Raymond? The thought created an ache within her that began in her heart and radiated out through her entire body, her limbs practically trembling with it.
She rocked back and forth from her seat on the floor, her arms around her knees. She didn’t know how long she stayed that way until finally there was a soft knock on the door.
“My lady? My lady, are you all right?”
Marion. Oh, God. Scarlett had been so caught up in her own troubles she had completely forgotten Marion. And now Mr. Spicer would be long gone with his master. In running from Hunter, she had effectively kept the two of them from one another.
“Marion!” she cried, opening the door, and the girl practically stumbled in. “Oh, Marion, I’m so sorry. I never thought … I should have?—”
“It’s fine,” said Marion with a gentle smile.
“We will sort it out. I couldn’t leave you, not now.
Not like this. I’m sorry, my lady, but I couldn’t help overhearing your exchange with Lord Oxford.
Do you not think you could come to enjoy London?
Perhaps in due time? You could even go back and forth between here and the city, could you not? ”
“You are likely right, Marion,” Scarlett said with a sigh, making her way to the window, her cloak trailing on the floor behind her.
The carriage was no longer in sight, long passed into the snowy drifts beyond.
“I could, I suppose. I want a life with him, I do, but I fear once we are in London, our life will become his life. And should anything happen, I will be completely lost.”
“Like your mother.”
“Like my mother.”
“I do not believe Lord Oxford is like your father, if I may be so bold to say, my lady,” said Marion hesitantly. “Though only you know that for sure.”
“Have I made a mistake?” Scarlett asked, turning from the window, looking beseechingly at her maid.
“That is not for me to say, my lady,” murmured Marion. “Just know that I am here for you, whatever you may need.”
“Thank you, Marion,” Scarlett said with a soft smile.
“Oh, and my lady…” Marion pulled out a package that had been hidden behind her back. “My lord asked me to give this to you.”
What in heavens…? Scarlett looked at Marion with some question as she took the small package wrapped in brown paper. She turned it over in her hands, pulling on the twine that bound it together.
“Whatever could this be?” she murmured, intent on opening it.
“I wouldn’t know, my lady,” responded Marion. “Would you like me to leave?”
“No, no, stay,” Scarlett said as she walked to her vanity, sitting down on the stool in front of it.
She finally managed to tear off the remaining packaging, and she pulled out a piece of clothing.
As she unfurled the garment, a piece of paper fell out, and as curious as she was of the gift, she needed to know first of the note.
“ Happy Christmas, my love,” was all it said.
And in her hands she held a pair of breeches, looking as though they were tailored exactly to fit her.
Tears sprung up anew in her eyes, but this time for another reason entirely.
He not only loved her, but he knew her. He loved her despite the fact that she rode a horse in the most unladylike fashion possible, and he not only accepted it but he was encouraging it.
“There are words written on the back, my lady,” Marion said in a near whisper.
Scarlett picked up the paper she had discarded on the vanity.
“ While this is not a tangible gift, I have set up a foundation for you. You can choose the charities, be they in the village or within London. The funds are available and you may manage it, however you see fit .”
She blinked. Did he mean it? She knew she had told him of what she wanted, but for him to go ahead, to create something for her, was unbelievable. It would give her purpose, outside of simply a life created around him.
As the tears slid down her cheeks, she thought of how he had embraced Christmastide, despite the fact that he was not particularly enamored with the holiday.
He had shown her with his lovemaking how much he desired her, had stood up for her to his parents, to his friends, staying by her side whenever she needed him.
And all of this after she had been so frosty toward him. And then she left him, unable to overcome her doubts.
She had made a mistake, allowing her fear to overrule all else, even her love for him. She had to make things right, to tell him exactly how she felt.
He had taken the carriage. Surely she could catch him on horseback.
She began to don the breeches, calling out to Marion to find her riding gear.
“I must catch him, Marion. I must !”
As the carriage trundled down the bumpy road away from Wintervale, Hunter felt like he had left a piece of himself behind.
In just over a week, his wife had become as much a part of him as one of his very own limbs.
When he returned home, he had hoped they could find a way to come together in a true partnership, but never could he have imagined forging a bond so strong.
He had thought she felt the same, had tried to coax the words out of her, but they never came.
Had he simply been imagining her response to him?
He had told her he loved her time and again, and all he had received in return was a warm smile, a gentle kiss, or tender words that were welcomed but did not return his sentiments.
If she loved him, as he truly needed her to, she would have come with him. But without that love, she had not found the courage to overcome all of her fears. They had failed one another, and now he would never be the same again.
He leaned down, his elbows on his knees, his head in hands.
Finally lifting them, he looked out the window at the evergreens passing by.
He would never look at greenery the same way, he thought with a rueful grin.
Wringing his hands together, he opened his small valise to find the correspondence he needed to review before meeting with Lord Falconer tomorrow.
As he pulled out the documents with gloved hands, something fell out of the bag to the floor of the carriage.
He was going to leave it there, but a flash of red caught his eye.
He picked it up, wonder widening his eyes as he looked at the sprig of holly held in his hand. How had it gotten there?
He twirled it around, surprised at the warmth beginning to grow within him as he thought of the trees outside, the snow swirling against the window of the carriage, and the little red berries encased in greenery which he now palmed.
The warmth was Christmas. And Christmas was Scarlett.
She had caused him to love the holiday, had made him believe that true love could actually exist between two people.
She had rejected him, true, but she had demons of her own, a past that she had shared with him, and he had quit on her too early.
He had pushed, demanding that she return to London with him, never considering that perhaps in order to be together, they must find a compromise.
He could never spend all of his time in the country, to be sure, but could he not spend more of it here?
And he did not live particularly far from London.
Would it truly be that hard to compromise?
He had expected her to change her life in order to follow along with his.
But he was being too stubborn, too set in his ways.
He never should have left, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t return and bring things to rights.
Hunter banged on the top of the carriage to alert his driver.
“Chaucy! Turn around! We’re going home for my wife!”
The wind whipped past Scarlett’s ears with increasing frigidness.
She had been stupid. In her haste to chase after Hunter, she had dressed hurriedly — though warmly — and raced to the stables.
There, the surprised groom had helped her prepare her mount, and she had declined his repeated offers to accompany her.
Why had she not let him? She berated herself now for her hasty decision.
She supposed she had seen herself finding Hunter and proclaiming some romantic declaration, and had considered that it would feel somewhat silly with a groom in tow.
But now the skies, which had been sunny when she devised this hasty plan, were beginning to darken, the winds increasing in strength, the temperature dropping rapidly.
She was moving at a quick pace, but would it be quick enough?
Her hands were already beginning to stiffen with cold, and she mumbled an apology to Star.
By now, she was hopefully closer to Hunter than she was to home, however, so she pushed on.
The path wound around the cliffs next to the river below, but there was one thing she was confident in, and that was the sure-footedness of her horse.
As they rounded the path overlooking the frozen lake, however, suddenly Star reared up.
Scarlett squeezed tightly with her thighs, but her hands were so cold she couldn’t properly grip the reins, and they slipped out of her fingers as she went flying backward.
She landed hard on the path behind her, a jolt of pain cracking through her ankle and radiating up through her leg.
She gasped from the shock of it, all of the breath knocked out of her body.
She felt tears gather in her eyes as she fought down the panic, finally maintaining a hold on control. There was a pain her chest but she was, at least, able to breathe again.
“Stupid, Star, that’s what I am,” she mumbled to her horse, who leaned down and nuzzled her ear in support. Why had he spooked? Star was a well-trained animal who had never faltered before.
Scarlett came to all fours, trying to determine just how injured her ankle was. It throbbed painfully, but as long as she could make it onto Star, she would be fine. Scarlett tried to stand, but when she tried to put weight on her ankle, it buckled, not taking any of it.
Grasping onto the stirrup hanging off of Star, Scarlett managed to pull herself to standing on one foot, but it was then she faced a dilemma.
She couldn’t stand on her left foot in order to put her right in the stirrup, and if she stood on her right to put her left foot in the stirrup, she wouldn’t be able to give it any weight to mount.
She jumped on one leg, grasping the pommel as she tried to haul herself up, but she only slid back down again, her chest hurting something fierce, her breath still coming in short gasps. Star was too tall, too wide in girth.
Scarlett whimpered at the hopelessness of her situation. No one would be out in a storm like this. No one would find her. She had to determine a way of out of this herself.
Just in case, she sent a cry out, hoping for the impossible — that someone would hear her, could help her out of this predicament she had stupidly found herself in.
“Help! Is anyone there? Please help me!” She called, and was so shocked she nearly screamed once more when the tree branches began to rustle beside her.
“Hello? Is someone there?”
Her relief turned to dismay, however, at the man that appeared before her as he emerged through the trees.
“Well, well, Lady Oxford,” came the smirking voice of Mr. Stone, calling to her in the wind. What was the steward even doing here? They had thought he had left days ago. “Got yourself in a predicament here, have you?”
“Yes,” she said weakly. “I don’t suppose you could help me onto my horse? I really just need a hand, and then I’m sure I can make it home.”
“I’d like to help you,” he said, clearly implying the opposite, “but unfortunately I find myself feeling rather uncharitable at the moment, being without employ any longer, nor references to find myself another placement. Now I wonder what — or who — caused that?”
“Mr. Stone,” Scarlett said desperately, “I realize you are angry, I do. But I could die out here if the storm continues.”
“And wouldn’t that be a pity, you being such a pretty thing?” he sneered, walking over to pet Star’s nose. “Too bad you couldn’t keep yourself out of my business and live like a usual countess. Your stallion here is a lovely piece of horseflesh, despite how easily he spooked.”
Scarlett’s eyes narrowed with the realization that he had purposefully spooked the horse. The bastard. “Leave him be,” she commanded.
“Ah, my lady, here’s the issue. I no longer have to listen to anything you say! I think I’ll be taking him with me. Farewell, my lady! How long do you suppose it will be until the earl finds himself a new bride?”
And with a cackle, he pulled on Star’s reins, urging the horse forward.
But Star refused to budge. The horse was as stubborn and loyal as she was, and she managed a smile at Stone’s curse when Star refused to take even one step forward.
Finally, Stone tossed the reins away in disgust. “Keep your horse,” he snarled.
“He’s good for nothing anyway.” He turned, his boots crunching away, leaving her completely and utterly alone.