Page 8 of A Winter’s Romance
A feigned fall carries the risk of real injury, which could have you confined to a sofa for some days. It would be a rare single man who is content to dance attendance on an invalid for more than a short time.
—Advice to Young Ladies
B en determinedly kept his eyes above Miss Ardley’s gently swaying hips as she set off back through the snow on the terrace. What had come over him? As she’d stood gazing at the bathing pool, his mind had conjured up an image of her clad in only a shift, stepping down into warm summer water. Her wet garment would cling to her figure…
He’d managed to ignore the effect those thoughts had on him and answered her normally—he hoped. Now was not the time to try to work out why a woman he’d initially thought merely passable now looked so attractive, not while he had guests to face.
Then she slipped; he reached to grab her arm, but he was too late to prevent her falling. She landed heavily, lying still for one horrible moment before she pushed herself up on an elbow. He took her hand to raise her to a sitting position, then offered his arm so she could get to her feet.
“Are you injured?”
“My ankle. I think I have sprained it.”
“Let me get you back into the warm, so it can be attended to.” He felt an impulse to pick her up, hold her close, and have her arms wound about his neck while he carried her, but sense prevailed. If he slipped, she could be hurt again. “Can you walk if you lean on me?”
She nodded, biting her lip as she leaned heavily on his arm and put a little weight on her ankle. Small, slow steps eventually got them to the cleared and gritted part of the terrace, and a footman hurried out to assist.
Her mother and sister hastened to the door. “Don’t worry, Mama, it is only my ankle,” Miss Ardley said as she limped across the room towards the fire. A chair was set for her and she sank into it.
“I’ll send someone for the doctor,” Ben said.
“No.” Miss Ardley’s voice was firm. “It is only a sprain, Mr Paynton. If you can get me a cold cloth and a stool to raise my leg, it will be well enough.”
He frowned. “Nevertheless, Miss Ardley, I think—”
“No—I’ve sprained an ankle before. It is not worth risking someone else’s safety to send for the doctor, nor to drag the poor man out in the snow for something that will mend itself if I rest it.”
“Kate,” Lady Ardley said, a hint of admonishment in her voice. “Mr Paynton only wants what is best for you. ”
Miss Ardley sighed. “I know.” She met his eyes with a rueful smile. “Thank you, sir. If it does not improve within a couple of days, I will be glad for a doctor to be sent for.”
“Very well. I will have the pony cart readied to take you back.”
“There is no need,” she said, before he could instruct a footman.
He met her gaze, to see amusement there. “Miss Ardley, I am doing my best to help you!” He pretended impatience; she knew it and smiled.
“Truly, sir, I would prefer to sit here for a while and warm myself before venturing into the cold again. I have plenty of company here.” She gestured to her sister, now sitting beside her, then tilted her head to one side a little. “Or would you banish me to languish on a sofa alone in the house?”
He bowed. “By no means.”
Arthur hobbled over and sat in a nearby chair. “I will keep you company, Miss Ardley, if you permit.” He grinned at Ben. “You cannot abandon the other guests.”
He was right, curse him. Ben just had time to send a footman to wait on Miss Ardley before being waylaid by Miss Farrell, eager to praise the pavilion and speculating how lovely it would be in summer.
He nodded and agreed at the appropriate times, but wondered why her comments grated on his feelings. Miss Ardley had said much the same, and he had not found it irritating—perhaps because she had not given the impression that she expected to be here later in the year to see it.
He kept an eye on her while he talked, happy to see Lady Ardley checking she was well, and Arthur keeping her entertained. But half an hour later, as the food was almost gone and he was beginning to think it was time the party returned to the house, he saw Arthur summon a footman. The pony cart was brought round, and the footman gave Miss Ardley his arm.
Excusing himself from his current conversation, he hurried to the door as Miss Ardley settled herself in the cart. “Are you feeling worse? Shall I send for the doctor?”
To his surprise, Arthur laughed and Miss Ardley bit her lip, although he still detected a smile. “Thank you for your concern, sir, but it was a surfeit of sympathy and concern that has driven me away.”
“And I added to it.” He smiled, relieved that she was in such good spirits. “Please, make free of the library, if you wish.”
“Thank you.”
Then Arthur gave the order to drive on, and Ben had to return to the other guests. Some started to walk back, others awaited the return of the cart, but all seemed to have enjoyed the little excursion.
Clouds were gathering in the western sky as he walked back to the house. Only two days ago, he would have been pleased to see them heralding the likely end to the cold spell and the departure of Mama’s guests. Now, it meant that Miss Ardley would be departing soon, just when he wanted to find out if their friendship could develop into something more.
Kate accepted Mr Paynton’s suggestion to use the library, and was soon settled by the fire with a fresh cold cloth wrapped around her ankle, a pot of tea in easy reach, and several novels to choose from. She enjoyed the peace for an hour, but once the other guests returned she was beset with enquiries about her ankle again. She retreated to her room, reluctantly agreeing to Mama’s suggestion that she have her dinner sent up on a tray.
Perhaps that was just as well. She was getting rather too fond of Mr Paynton’s company—even finding herself looking round when someone entered a room to see if it was him. That wouldn’t matter if the attraction was mutual. She thought it might be, to some degree, at least. He had certainly confided in her about his ambitions, and she doubted he had done so to many others. But being a favoured companion—if she was—in such a confined company was not necessarily a sign of the regard she wanted in a life’s partner. No, the test would be whether he sought her out during the upcoming season. She hoped he would.
Kate awoke the following morning to find her ankle still painful if she put weight on it, although the swelling had largely gone. No doctor, then, but she must rest it as much as she could. Outside, the snow was melting; tree branches were no longer limned with it, and the hedges and shrubs in the garden showed dark beneath a grey sky. Most of the road from London had been well-maintained turnpike, so they would be on their way as soon as the local lanes were passable.
She breakfasted in bed before Jenny helped her downstairs and into a parlour with a view of the gardens, then went to fetch her drawing materials and the book she’d been reading. She was gazing out of the window, wondering if she felt like sketching, when Mr Paynton came into the room.
“Good morning, Miss Ardley. At the risk of annoying you, may I ask how you are feeling this morning? ”
The little quirk of his lips that showed he was teasing was one of the things she found attractive about him. “Well enough, thank you, although I think it will be some days before I can walk about without assistance.”
“You may well be at home by then,” he said, the smile vanishing. He walked over to the window and stood looking out. “I sent a groom out on horseback this morning—he thinks mud in the lanes will make them difficult for a couple of days, but they might be passable now if anyone cared to try.” He turned back, and gestured to her sketch pad. “My offer of paints and more paper still stands, if you wish to spend your time sketching. Mother has arranged games in the ballroom, and I’m afraid I am expected to participate.”
That he wished to stay with her instead warmed Kate inside. “Thank you, but the gloomy weather does not inspire me.”
“I can have the geode, or other specimens brought in, if you wish to attempt those. Or there is a case of butterflies and moths.”
Why not? It would be a challenge, and she didn’t wish to spend all her time reading. “Thank you. The butterflies, I think. It is very kind of you.”
He gave a small bow. “It is my pleasure, Miss Ardley.”
That was all he said, but the words did not sound like mere platitudes. She spent an enjoyable day painting butterflies as specimens, then some fanciful scenes of what the pavilion and lake might look like in summer, still warmed by the thoughtfulness of her host. It wasn’t until she retired that evening that she recalled her idea of writing a guide on how to avoid fortune hunters, and asked Jenny to look for the little book that Madame Garnier had given her .
“Can’t find it nowhere, miss,” the maid said, after rummaging through all the drawers and cupboards in the room, and even looking under the bed. “Are you sure you brought it with you?”
“I thought I did,” Kate said, trying to remember when she had seen it last. She hadn’t looked at it since she arrived at Paynton Hall. It wasn’t in the satchel that held the remains of her sketching equipment—had she only intended to put it in there rather than actually doing so? “Never mind, Jenny. That is all for tonight. I will have breakfast in bed again tomorrow.”