Page 38 of Snowbound Regency Christmas
‘It’s still there. Shall I…?’
She was half turned away from him but he saw a trace of colour creep into her flour-streaked cheek. ‘If you wouldn’t mind. I’d rather not give anyone any more reason to stare.’
He nodded, his mouth suddenly dry. There was a momentary pause and then he stepped towards her, willing his hand to remain steady as he lifted it to her face.
Jane flinched as his fingertip grazed her skin although she didn’t pull away. She kept her eyes averted, refusing to meet his, but she couldn’t hide her deepening blush, flushing crimson as he gently brushed away the flour from her cheek and jaw.
Duncan gritted his teeth. Her lips were slightly parted and he could have sworn he heard her draw in a sharp breath when he touched her, the first time in three years he had felt her warmth beneath his fingers. With her face so close and slightly upturned, he could see her scars more clearly than ever before and his chest tightened to imagine how much each one must have hurt. More than anything, he wanted to kiss them—both to soothe any lingering pain and to show Jane thateverythingabout her was precious, including the parts about which the world had made her feel ashamed, but of course, he could not.
Every sinew in his body wanted to drop his hand to her waist and pull her nearer, but instead he stepped back, reluctantly obeying the alarm bells ringing in his ears. ‘There. Perfectly respectable once more.’
‘Thank you.’ Jane smiled weakly, her gaze still fixed over his shoulder. As far as he was aware, there was no masterpiece hanging behind him, so there must have been some other reason for her fascination with the corridor wall, one that might also have explained the odd pitch of her voice. ‘Shall we meet in the hall in half an hour? That’ll give me plenty of time to dig out my thickest cloak.’
‘Very good.’
Inclining his head, he invited her to walk ahead of him. It was best she couldn’t see him at that moment, he decided as she began to glide away. She might have noticed the ticking of his pulse above the collar of his shirt, spurred into a gallop by so small a contact as running a fingertip over her cheek but still enough to make his knees feel like water. She was a torment and a delight wrapped up in one unwitting package and he braced himself for another afternoon in her company as he followed her towards the stairs, trying—and failing—not to notice the subtle sway of her waist as she walked.
Jane had always been fond of children, so it was a quiet pleasure when Charlotte’s hand slipped into hers as they trudged through the snowy woods. In large part it was the little girl’s obvious liking for her that she was so glad of, but she couldn’t deny another less noble reason for being grateful that Duncan’s niece was there.
While Charlotte chattered like a cheerful bird both adults could focus on her rather than each other, and that was a far safer prospect while Jane felt in danger of getting carried away.
He only touched my cheek. It’s not as though he kissed it.
Her veil would prevent him from seeing how she bit her lip at the thought and for that she was thankful indeed. He’d once known her so well and there was a possibility he might still have been able to read her face with one glance, immediately seeing that she was thinking things she shouldn’t.
‘Are we almost there? We’ve been walking forages.’
Charlotte sounded as one might after a two-hour hike through a mountain pass and Jane smiled at Duncan’s answering laugh.
‘It’s been about ten minutes. Surely your legs aren’t tired already?’
He strolled along beside them, his boots crunching through the snow as he shortened his strides to match his niece’s slow pace. Under one arm he carried a sledge: a bulky old-fashioned thing that must have been heavy but he held it with no trouble at all, the effortless strength of his bicep something Jane admired out of the corner of her eye.
‘They aren’t yet but they might be soon,’ Charlotte told him piteously. ‘I could be too tired to sledge when we get there.’
‘Oh, dear. That would never do.’
Duncan looked grave. Fleetingly, Jane wondered if he was going to suggest they return to the house, but then her heart turned over when he flashed her the briefest of conspiratorial smiles.
‘Here. Let’s see if we can’t take the weight off a little bit.’
Transferring the sledge to his other arm, he took Charlotte’s free hand. ‘If Miss Stockwell will help me? On the count of three!’
Jane understood at once. On histhree!she and Duncan swung Charlotte into the air between them, the little girl kicking up a shower of snow as she squealed. She landed again, giggling, and Jane knew she would never forget how handsome Duncan looked when he grinned.
‘Is that better? Did that give your legs a rest?’
‘Only a little one. I think they might need another!’
He laughed. ‘I’m not so sure. Look—we’re almost there.’
He pointed through the frost-laden trees. A small clearing lay a short distance away, spread out beneath a steep bank. The snow there looked deep and undisturbed and Charlotte gave a squeak of delight as Duncan let go of her hand and allowed her to run towards it.
‘Be careful. Remember what I said about your mama and my head.’
The girl scurried away, leaving Jane and Duncan behind. The snow was indeed much thicker now the trees had thinned and it was a struggle to pick through, the hem of Jane’s red cloak darkening to a sodden crimson as she walked. Duncan didn’t seem to be having quite so much trouble; the long legs she had always thought so highly of let him move far more easily, although once or twice their shoulders brushed together as some unseen dip made them stumble, each accidental touch sending shockwaves beneath the bodice of her gown.
Charlotte was almost dancing with excitement when they emerged into the clearing. ‘Are we going to the top of the hill, Uncle Duncan?’
