Chapter Sixteen
The next morning, Duncan tried to stay as quiet as he could, but Lady had other plans.
He had taken Lady outside earlier to see to her business and his own, and had managed to rub snow over her legs and paws to remove most of the mud, but now she wanted to be fed and was becoming rather vocal about it.
He also tended to Dawn, wrapping his leg with a fresh, cold cloth.
The swelling had dissipated somewhat, but it would be weeks before his horse recovered fully.
Augusta stirred as he built up the fire.
“It’s morning?” she asked, yawning.
“Just checked my watch. Thirty minutes past eight.”
Augusta rolled off the pallet, and he immediately ducked inside the tent structure to help her stand.
“How is the ankle?”
Leaning on his arm as they stepped forward, she placed weight on her ankle to test it. “Much better. And you took off your sling!”
“I am feeling much better as well.” Augusta looked entirely beautiful, her disheveled, silken black hair tumbling over her shoulders.
“Better enough to do this.” He cupped her cheeks and, without hesitation, kissed her deeply.
He gentled the kiss, then deepened it, and Augusta returned it eagerly.
He kissed her neck, then her lips again.
She moaned softly. God, he was aroused. Slowly and reluctantly, he ended the kiss, his forehead touching hers as he caressed her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” Augusta whispered. “I would like to be kissed like that at the beginning of every day, by the by.”
“I shall endeavor to do so.”
“Could you help me with my cloak? I have to—”
“Of course.” He released her and fetched her wool cloak. “Do you need your case?”
“Yes, please.”
While Augusta used the privy, Duncan retrieved the food hamper from the cellar and placed the cast-iron skillet on the grate. He had also gathered four eggs earlier, and started preparing them now.
“The sun is out,” Augusta exclaimed eagerly as she stepped over the threshold. “The icicles are melting. There’s hardly a cloud in the sky. Do you think Mr. McGloin might be able to come soon?”
“It could be as soon as tomorrow, or perhaps the next day for certain. The storm has passed.” He flipped the eggs over with a fork.
Augusta removed her cloak. “There is such a lot of snow. I could barely move toward the front of the cabin; the drifts are so large.”
“It will make travel difficult, but ultimately, not impossible. Come, let’s eat.”
They settled by the fire with their food and mugs of tea.
Duncan knocked the scone against his plate with a distinct thud. “Unfortunately, the bread items are beyond hope. We will have to finish the sliced chicken and beef tonight before they turn.”
“I am sure Lady will assist us.”
The dog lifted her head from eating the fried egg and looked toward them.
“She knows her name,” Augusta chuckled. “Reese will be pleased to have a dog. Can we keep her inside?”
“It appears she is already a part of the family. Yes. Of course, she may stay inside. And we have footmen aplenty to take her for walks when we are too busy.” Duncan stopped eating and looked down at his nearly empty plate.
“I do not want to frighten your son. I will wear the half masks when in his presence.”
“It’s the unknown that will alarm him, not your face. Although he is an intelligent boy, he may not grasp the concept of war or the injuries it can cause. He is only five years old. We will explain it a little at a time.”
“Is my face hard to look at?” Duncan whispered.
Damn his vulnerability! First, yesterday’s tearful narrative, now this!
Granted, he did not sob like a baby, but his emotions were laid bare, more exposed than ever.
Augusta’s compassion made it easier to talk about it.
His helplessness in the situation had kept him isolated at Bamford Park for the past five years.
Although he yearned for the intimate company of a woman, the specter of rejection kept him from society.
Only at Laura’s urging did he venture outside.
She must be worried, as they were days late for their arrival.
He shook the thought from his mind, lifted his head, and gazed at Augusta.
She looked at him boldly, not flinching.
“At first, yes, it’s hard to look at,” she said matter-of-factly, but gently.
“But my initial thought in the carriage after the accident wasn’t horror.
It was empathy for whatever you had endured.
Knowing that you suffered, and no doubt still do, touched my heart.
My next thought was that it could have been worse, and despite the scars, you are very handsome. ”
“Come now,” Duncan scoffed.
“You are a tall, fine figure of a man. The right side of your face is almost angelic, yet rugged in its symmetrical perfection. Some may find the contrast with the scars too jarring; it may evoke pity in others. Not to me. Isn’t it what’s inside a person that matters more?
At the end of the day, looks are fleeting.
All beauty fades. But in here?” Augusta tapped her chest. “You are the most honorable, compassionate man I have ever met. You are not a typical aristocrat. Perhaps your military training had something to do with it. You are confident enough to talk about your feelings. That appeals to me more than the outer shell, believe me. I have waited my whole life to meet a man like you.”
Duncan was stunned. “I never expected to be duke, so I do not speak as a nobleman. ‘Confident enough to talk about my feelings,’” he murmured.
“Then let me be as frank as you have been. This is moving far beyond friendship for me, Augusta. I cannot fathom how swiftly my emotions have been engaged since nearly the moment we met. You have reawakened my heart. I had thought it dead in the ashes, along with Jon. I fervently believe we will be very happy. The Allenby dukedom may hit a few rough patches over the years, but we, together, will see that it continues through this century, into the next.”
“Truly?” Augusta whispered. “Beyond friendship?”
“Is it too soon? Shall I call back my words? I can endeavor to move this at a slower pace if you wish. I do not want you to feel obligated to feel anything for me that you do not. Just know, I absolutely adore you. I am falling for you, Augusta. Falling very fast, indeed.”
Augusta blinked rapidly, her heart pounding, her insides fluttering at his sincere words of affection.
Could it be possible that two people could develop such a strong bond in just a few weeks?
She swore she would never think of Southen again, but the emotions she felt with him didn’t compare to this.
With Southen, there was no depth, no soft-spoken words.
They never once said they loved each other.
Over time, it became clear to Augusta that their relationship, as it was, had only the thin veneer of a fleeting physical attraction. Nothing more.
Her youthful self had believed her feelings for Southen were love.
But they were not. How would she ever know what love truly was?
Augusta was finally beginning to understand.
It was not only passion, but also genuine intimacy, trust, commitment, and protectiveness.
Cherishing another person’s contentment and needs as much as her own—or even more.
Yearning to be with that person in every way.
Sharing her past, no matter how hurtful, and her deepest thoughts and desires.
Had she not experienced all this with Duncan, especially in these past few days?
Augusta cleared her throat. “Do not call back the words. Not ever. For it is growing beyond friendship for me as well. Someday, we will look back on our time here, trapped in a snowstorm, as a fortuitous opportunity. It is where we laid our hearts and souls bare, let down our defenses, and made a commitment to each other. I am falling for you, too, Duncan, and I—”
Duncan was out of his chair before she could finish the sentence.
He gathered her into his arms and kissed her deeply.
Augusta caressed his whiskered cheek, then trailed both hands through his long, wavy hair, kissing him in return.
She gasped when he cupped her breast. She felt everything, having removed her corset and chemise the first night they arrived here and had not worn them since.
Augusta moaned as she pulled the collar of her gray wool gown lower to give him access.
Duncan bent his head, then froze at a loud creak from above.
“Is someone upstairs?” she murmured.
Duncan straightened. “How would they get in?” he replied in a low voice.
“The roof, perhaps? Through loose boards?”
Duncan moved toward the stairs, but Augusta grabbed his arm. “Your pistol.”
Another creak. Then another. Duncan silently retrieved his pistol from his coat and stealthily climbed the stairs.
The door was closed, but with a swift action, he forced it open.
As soon as he stepped inside, the creaking noise gave way to a loud crash as the roof and all the snow on top of it collapsed on Duncan, effectively burying him.
Lady began barking frantically. Then Augusta screamed.
All she could see was an arm sticking out of the pile of snow and debris. “Duncan!”