Page 5 of Lady Elizabeth’s Winter Stranger

So far, Elizabeth had been so distracted by her interest in a compelling stranger that she hadn’t thought much about the genuine dangers involved in climbing a lofty oak on a snowy day.

Her stomach which had been full of pleasurable, if socially unacceptable butterflies knotted in sudden worry. “Be careful, Tom.”

He sent her one of those laughing glances that made her feel all shaky and enchanted. “I’ll be fine. I have important things to do today.”

She smiled back, even as she took in his tacit message that kissing her again was on his list. Any girl of sense who had been out in society knew how to quash unwanted male attention.

Despite chaperones and the rules of propriety, not to mention basic human decency, there was too much of it.

But the idea of giving Tom a cutting setdown didn’t occur to her.

It seemed that somewhere in the last hour, his attentions had become wanted.

How astonishing. How…troubling.

He jumped again. This time, his grip held. With the athleticism that she’d noticed straightaway, he dragged himself up onto the branch and began to scale the tree with impressive skill.

Her heart in her throat, Elizabeth watched him rise higher and higher.

Cyril’s expression filled with wonder. “Cor, you’re like a blinking monkey.”

Perhaps it wasn’t quite how Elizabeth would have phrased it, but Tom’s expertise as a tree climber flooded her with admiration. He went up quickly and cleanly, and now he was within reach of the boy.

“I’m concentrating. Don’t distract me,” Tom said breathlessly, as he stretched for the branch just below Cyril. “The branch you’re sitting on won’t hold my weight. Can you lower yourself down and I’ll catch you?”

“I think so.” But the child didn’t move.

It was the first sign of uncertainty that Cyril had shown since his shrieks for help. Elizabeth couldn’t help thinking that both boy and man were awfully high up in the sky. A fall now would mean serious injury or even death.

While she didn’t wish harm to anyone, it was disconcerting quite how much she wanted Tom to emerge unscathed from his heroics. This time, when her hands curled into fists, it was because she was strung tight with fear.

“Cyril, your arse is only going to get colder if you stay there. Come on, young man, move. I’m sure you’ve got a Christmas dinner waiting. You don’t want to miss out on that, do you?”

“No.” Cyril’s doubt was audible in the drawn-out syllable.

“Come on. You were brave enough to get up there. You’re brave enough to climb down one branch.”

Feeling sick, Elizabeth watched the boy gingerly shift closer to the trunk.

“That’s it. Slide down and I’ll catch you.” Tom slung his arm around another branch and held his hand out to Cyril.

Cyril came to a trembling stop. “I’m afraid.”

Elizabeth hadn’t been particularly impressed with Cyril so far, but right now, he sounded like a frightened child and her heart ached for him. Having two brothers, she was well aware what that small admission had cost him.

“Not you.” Tom’s laugh was encouraging. “You’re a hero. Don’t you forget it, Cyril.”

The voice conveyed a confidence that made Cyril sit a little straighter. He still didn’t budge, but even from the ground, she saw the tension seep from the taut little body. “Do you think so?”

“I know so.” Tom stretched out further. “Let’s get you down.”

Cyril made a jerky movement and suddenly slipped from the branch. For a giddy moment, he plummeted through midair. Elizabeth muffled a horrified gasp, not wanting to distract them.

Tom lunged as far as he could and caught the boy before he lost his balance entirely. Cyril’s feet struck the branch Tom stood on and for a sickening moment, Elizabeth feared that the lad might slip, taking his rescuer with him.

But Tom managed to bring the boy close. When Cyril’s arms wrapped around the man, she heard him sob. She felt rather like crying herself.

“We’ll get him safely down now.” Tom smiled down at her with unconcealed relief.

“Thank heaven.” She clasped her hands in front of her chest. “Thank you.”

Tom turned his attention to Cyril. “Let me go now and hold onto this branch. I’ll turn around and get you down. If you climb onto my back, we’ll get to the ground as easy as can be.”

It took a little while for Cyril to obey the instructions, but eventually he clambered around to find a safe perch on Tom’s back. The two came down the tree as effortlessly as Tom had scaled it in the first place.

On the bottom branch, Tom paused to let Cyril climb off his back. “I’ll let you down from here. It’s a bit of a drop.”

Elizabeth stepped up to stand below them. “I can take him.”

“Thank you,” Tom said.

She reached out and accepted Cyril’s weight, when Tom lowered him toward the ground. As she staggered, Tom jumped down beside her.

The lad was cold and shivering with fear as well. No doubt his arse had been freezing up there.

“Cyril Polkinghorne, I’ll tan your hide when we get home, you imp of Satan!

” A stout woman in a red and green striped pelisse bustled up toward them.

“Your mother will have my guts for garters if she finds out you ran away from me like that. I’ve got a good mind to send you back to Slough with no Christmas dinner at all. ”

Cyril struggled out of Elizabeth’s arms and regarded the middle-aged lady with a gleeful smile. The moments of appealing vulnerability hadn’t lasted long. “Grandmamma, I’ve been having adventures. It’s been ever so exciting. I climbed the tree and—”

“And needed this kind gentleman and lady to help you down. Lawks a-mercy, I nearly had kittens when I saw you stuck up there.”

“I wasn’t in any trouble,” Cyril said with a worrying disregard for the truth.

His grandmother eyed him without favor. “That’s what you think, young man.” She opened her arms. “Now give me a hug. You’ve given your old gran a nasty fright.”

Cyril went readily into her arms and suffered through a suffocating cuddle with reasonably good grace. Behind them, Tom stepped aside to pull both his coats back on. He finished by putting on his hat and gloves. He must be freezing. The sun struggling to shine through the clouds shed no warmth.

“I’m Dora Polkinghorne. Thank you for your kindness in saving Cyril. He’s a young devil, but I’d hate him to break his neck.”

Tom smiled and took Elizabeth’s arm with a proprietary air that would have annoyed her in any other man, particularly one she hardly knew. She was perturbed that right now, all she felt was pleasure in the contact. “My wife and I were happy to help.”

Wife? Elizabeth cast him a quick, questioning glance, but he was smiling at Mrs. Polkinghorne with more of the easy charm that had already beguiled Elizabeth.

“I’m just so glad you were here. The park is nearly empty.” Mrs. Polkinghorne released a ruffled Cyril from the enthusiastic hug and regarded him with a frown. “If he’d fallen and hurt himself, my daughter-in-law would never forgive me. He’s her only child, and I’m afraid she spoils him.”

“Not to mention that if something had happened to him, it would ruin Christmas,” Elizabeth said lightly.

“I could have got down,” Cyril said belligerently.

“No, you could not,” his grandmother said. “Now thank this nice gentleman and his lady for helping you and I’ll take you home. Mary’s got dinner nearly ready and she’ll sulk for a month if it’s burned.”

Cyril turned to Tom and Elizabeth. “Thank you for getting me down out of the tree.”

“You’re welcome, Cyril.” Tom reached forward and shook his hand.

“And thank you for catching me,” he said to Elizabeth with a surprisingly deft bow.

“That was very neatly done,” Mrs. Polkinghorne said. “Now, let’s get you back to Paddington. I’m too old for all this excitement and it’s too cold to stand around in the snow.”

“I know. When I was up the tree, my arse nearly froze off.”

Mrs. Polkinghorne went red in the face and caught him by the collar. “That’s enough of that, you little horror. I’m so sorry, sir and madam.”

“He’s only trying to shock,” Tom said. “Would you like us to come with you through the park?”

“No, thank you. I’m only a few minutes from home.” She paused. “Unless you’d like to join us for Christmas dinner? There’s plenty, and I’d love to thank you properly for saving my grandson.”

“That’s very kind, but we have another obligation,” Tom said smoothly.

“But my arse was frozen,” Cyril protested.

“We’ve heard quite enough about your rear end,” his grandmother scolded. “Happy Christmas to both of you.”

“And merry Christmas to you,” Tom said, tipping his hat to her. “Be good, Cyril.”

He didn’t sound very certain. Elizabeth couldn’t blame him. “Goodbye, Cyril. Goodbye, Mrs. Polkinghorne. Happy Christmas.”

With a wave, Mrs. Polkinghorne hauled a reluctant Cyril away. It was clear that she had no intention of letting the boy run off again.

“If Cyril’s good, it will be a Christmas miracle,” Elizabeth muttered, as Tom drew her back to the path.

“O, ye of little faith, wife,” he said in a laughing voice.

“That was quick thinking,” she said.

Still holding her arm, he began to retrace their path toward the gates. “It gave us a reason to be together without a chaperone. With your gloves on, she wouldn’t notice the lack of a wedding ring.” He paused. “Actually I have no idea if you’re married. Are you?”

“No,” she said, although his question reminded her that she might be soon. The events of the last hour had eclipsed her quandary, but now her dilemma slammed back into her with all its previous impact.

“Well, that’s a relief.” He sounded as if he meant it.

She glanced at him. “Are we going to talk about the kiss?”