Page 155 of Snowbound Surrender

“Appropriate according to you, or to your wife?” Stone asked, rising from his chair and placing his hands on the desk. “Are you thinking with your mind, now, my lord, or with what is in your pants?”

“Enough!” Hunter said, rising himself, a finger extended toward his steward. “I will not be shown disrespect, and nor will my wife. You have been with our family for quite some time, Stone, I realize that, but I believe it is time for a change. You are relieved of your duties. Please remove your things from your house by end of day tomorrow.”

Stone raised a hand, whether to hit him or simply make his point, Hunter wasn’t sure. Reason must have taken hold, however, as he slowly lowered it, simply glowering at Hunter instead. He pushed back his chair and stormed from the room, though not before pausing as he opened the door.

“You will regret this,” he promised, then finally took his leave, and Hunter sank down into his chair, glowering at the man’s retreating back.

CHAPTER 17

Hunter finally emergedfrom his study after making a list of all he needed to do before he returned to London, which must, he determined, be in the next few days. Before New Year’s, that was for certain, despite how disappointed Lavinia would be at the news.

First, however, he needed a moment alone with his wife, he thought as he strode down the corridor of the hall, which felt empty and hollow in the absence of all of his staff. Finally, he heard voices in one of the far drawing rooms, just beyond the library. Who would she be talking to? Lavinia must have come to visit, he thought ruefully. Ah well, a quick visit with his sister wouldn’t be so bad, and then she would be gone by after dinner at the very latest, and they would have utmost privacy. His pulse began to quicken as he imagined all the places they could make love in a completely empty house, without the risk of a servant finding them.

Stone Hall, to be certain. And the library — absolutely the library, where they had first encountered one another upon his return visit. If it was summer, he would have insisted they take things outdoors to the grotto, the jewel of Wintervale, tuckedaway in his magnificent gardens. That certainly wouldn’t do at Christmas, however.

His thoughts came to a halt when he opened the door of the drawing room.

“Hunter!” Scarlett said excitedly as she rose to greet him at the door. “My mother has come to visit!”

“Oh.” Hunter stood there in shock, his previous visions of a passionate day and night with his wife evaporating. He knew how much Scarlett loved her mother and was happy she had the opportunity to visit but … why did it have to be now?

At Scarlett’s probing look, he collected himself and entered the room, walking over to the woman, who looked much like Scarlett, but a little older and slightly more … drawn, he thought. Scarlett had life and vitality — when she chose to share it. Her mother seemed to have given up hope.

“Lady Halifax,” he said, bending over her hand. “How lovely to see you again. I apologize that we do not have the proper staff to care for you. We have provided them with a day off for Boxing Day.”

“Of course!” she said with a wave of her hand, looking fondly at her daughter, and Hunter could sense the love between the two of them. “I completely understand. I had been worried about Scarlett, you see, as I had thought she was to visit me for Christmas, and with the roads as buried as they were, it wasn’t even possible for us to send any correspondence. I was going to write to her, and then I thought, oh Virginia, you are but a few hours away, you might as well go see her yourself.”

Lady Halifax smiled at Scarlett, but when she returned her gaze to Hunter, the edges of it dipped, her pleasure no longer quite making it to her eyes.

“I am surprised to see you here, Lord Oxford.”

“I was snowed in as well,” he responded, his eyes flicking over to Scarlett to determine her reaction, but her face remainedstoic. “Although it has turned out to be fortunate, as it has provided me the opportunity to better get to know my lovely wife.”

“I see,” Lady Halifax said, nodding her head, looking between the two of them. Scarlett had begun to wind a strand of hair around her finger, chewing her lip as she looked slightly uncomfortable. What was it, exactly, that Lady Halifax saw?

“I believe there is a scullery maid still in the kitchens for the day,” Hunter finally said to break the silence. “Why don’t I go see if I can have her provide some tea and pastries for you?”

“Very good,” said Lady Halifax, apparently finally pleased with him. “I would like that very much.”

As Hunter walked out of the room, however, he couldn’t help the sense of foreboding that descended upon him. Lady Halifax was a perfectly lovely woman, he told himself. Whatever could be amiss?

“You’ve fallenin love with him.”

“What?”

Scarlett looked at her mother in shock. The three of them had been in the room together for all of five minutes — how could she come to recognize Scarlett’s feelings in such a short time?

Virginia Nicholas smiled sadly at her daughter, reaching over to cup her face in her hands. Scarlett thought, as she always did when she saw her mother, it was like looking into a mirror of her future. The same hazel eyes reflected back toward her, the same freckles over the nose — even her lips were the same shape. But over the years, her mother had developed many lineson her face. Some were from the laughter she and her daughter had shared together, true, but so many were from the dismay she felt upon seeing her husband leave her behind every time he came to visit.

“Oh Scarlett,” her mother sighed, stroking her cheek as though she were a young child. “He’s a beautiful man to look at, that much is true. But what happened? I thought you were adamant in your decision to keep your distance.”

“I was,” Scarlett said, choosing her words carefully. “But Mother, over these past few days I have come to know him. He is actually quite … wonderful. He is considerate, and once he begins to focus on something, he is the most determined man I have ever met.”

“When did you marry?”

Scarlett looked at her mother quizzically.

“August, as you well know.”