Page 139 of Snowbound Surrender

“I do, my lady,” Marion replied with a convincing nod. “Everyone loves a bit of Christmas, and it doesn’t seem this house has ever had any.”

“Why do you think that is?”

Marion shrugged. “Mrs. Shepherd said that the family has hardly ever been in residence, as the marquess and marchioness have another home they prefer, and when Lord Oxford has been here, he doesn’t celebrate the season at all. Mrs. Shepherd thinks that they have never celebrated Christmas before.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, though no one else was near to hear them. “It’s rather sad, isn’t it my lady?”

“It is,” Scarlett agreed. “Well, then, Marion, it is up to us to share it with them. I’ll wear the morning dress while we ready this house following breakfast, and then we’ll leave this afternoon for my mother's, how does that sound?”

Marion replaced the riding habit but turned around hurriedly. “Oh, my lady! I was so caught up in discussing the decorations that I completely forgot to tell you — while a ride may be possible, there is no way we can make the visit to your mother’s today.”

“What do you mean?” Scarlett looked at her quizzically.

“The snow, my lady — it came down all night!”

Scarlett pushed back the blankets, shivering as her feet touched the wooden floor. This room needed a carpet near the bed. It was an unusually cold winter, that was for certain. She padded over to the window, gasping when she looked out below.For what had been a foot of snow the day before had turned into mountains of it overnight. The snow blanketed everything — the maple trees, which were bare with the winter, the evergreens, and all of the gardens that stretched out below her south-facing window.

“My goodness!” she exclaimed. “I’ll never make it through there, even on horseback.” She whirled around to look at Marion. “And Lord Oxford will certainly not be able to London.”

Marion shook her head, the slightest of smiles curling the edges of her lips. Ah, yes — the valet. It meant he would be staying as well. “No, my lady,” she said. “It seems you will be spending Christmas with the earl.”

“Mrs. Shepherd!”Scarlett called into the maid’s sitting room as she looked for the housekeeper, Marion trailing behind her. Mrs. Shepherd came bustling out of the room, Abbot following along behind her.

“Ah, there you are!” Scarlett exclaimed. “Splendid. Now, Lord Oxford and I collected greenery yesterday while we were visiting the tenants, and it must still be in the sleigh. I’d like to decorate the house this morning, being that it is already Christmas Eve, and that will be decidedly important. Oh! And my mother wrote and said she would be sending mistletoe, which one of her friends brought up from the south. Did it arrive?”

“It did, my lady, earlier this week, and we will be readying it. Not to worry, we will have the house prepared for you by tomorrow.”

“Oh, but Mrs. Shepherd, I would love nothing more than to help. Is there any ribbon about? Or paper, perhaps? Come, let’s arrange everything in the blue drawing room.”

It was small, private, and Scarlett had taken it on as her own private sitting room. It had been rather cold when she first arrived, but now it was filled with her favorite things that she had brought with her from her parents’ home — the quilt her nursemaid had knitted for her, the small paintings and portraits of family members that reminded her of home.

Now, the footmen were lining greenery upon the floor, and Scarlett took command, instructing the maids on how to create the perfect boughs and balls of greenery.

“And this,” she said with flourish as she picked up a piece of it, “is mistletoe. Careful now, young ladies, that you don’t find yourself below it with a man who may not be of your choosing.” She winked at Marion, who blushed up to the roots of her auburn hair. Scarlett had noticed the valet, Spicer, had paid particular attention to Marion this morning. When Scarlett asked him where his lord was, he said she could find him in his study. Scarlett simply shrugged, deciding that it didn’t matter.

“Marion,” she murmured to her maid in a low voice, drawing her over to the side of the room, next to the marble fireplace, where a cheery fire burned. “I completely forgot to tell you. It seems your Mr. Spicerisunattached. And now, you shall spend Christmas with him. I do hope all works out well for the two of you, but promise me you will be careful?”

Marion simply smiled and turned away, and Scarlett pulled at a strand of hair that had fallen out of her messy chignon, winding it around her finger as she contemplated Marion and Spicer, who were now shyly conversing. Perhaps lovecouldwork for some, she thought wistfully as she tied together the ball of mistletoe along with some of the evergreen boughs they had picked from the forest floor. She pushed back the memoriesof yesterday that continued to try to invade.It meant nothing.Simply a bit of fun.

Scarlett gathered a large bundle of greenery as she made her way through the sitting room, passing through the Green Room, where she smiled at some of the footmen. It seemed the servants were rather enjoying this bit of festivity, as everywhere she looked all were getting in on the fun. Oak Hall —thatwas where she would focus her attention. It branched off the foyer and was continually used to reach nearly every other room of the house, by both herself and the servants alike.

Determining the best placement for her boughs, she began to retrace her steps, nearly running into the valet.

“Ah, Spicer,” she said with a smile, and he returned her look with a youthful grin. “Do you suppose you could fetch the library steps? I was thinking to hang this from the entrance into the room.”

“Of course, my lady,” he said, and returned moments later with the wooden steps, which reached fairly high, perfect for the tall bookshelves that lined the library. “Allow me.”

“No, no, I am perfectly fine,” she said, then remembering Marion tying together the greenery in the drawing room, she was inspired. “I am sorry to ask another favor of you, but I don't suppose you could fetch me more boughs?”

“Of course, my lady,” he said. “I’ll be back shortly.”

“Take your time,” she said sweetly, then began the climb up the steps.

Standing on the top step, she estimated she was still about an inch from the frame of the doorway, despite standing on the very tips of her toes and reaching as far as she was able. She only needed to stand on the very top of the steps, flush with the railing, and then she could reach the doorframe. She had always had decent balance, likely from years atop a horse. She took a step, smiling when she was at the correct height.

“Here we are,” she murmured, fastening the ribbon to the top. “Perf—” Her words were cut off with a shout, however, as the ladder began teetering beneath her. She flailed her arms wildly as she attempted to regain her balance, but suddenly there was nothing to which she could affix her foot, as the steps began to tip forward. She cringed as she prepared herself to meet the floor, but instead of hardwood crashing into her back, she was caught by a pair of arms that seemed to come out of nowhere. She opened her eyes to find her husband’s handsome face before her.

Hunter’s arms tightened around her, and she could feel his warmth through her dress. He pulled her even closer, as though he could keep her safer that way. “My God, you scared me.” His forehead came to hers, his lips but a breath away. Her pulse quickened, in part from her near-fall, but also fromhim. Oh, she could tell herself he had no effect on her, but her body was saying something entirely different.

When his lips descended, she met them with a desperation she didn’t know was inside of her. What was she doing? This wasnotfollowing in line with her intentions. All thought left her, however, as he drank her in, and she felt as though she were drowning, from his taste to his touch to the weightless feeling from simply being held by him.