Page 170 of Snowbound Surrender

CHAPTER 24

Twelfth Night

London

“This was a bad idea.”

“Oh, don’t be silly! I feel perfectly fine.”

“Yes, but you should still be resting, not in London about to attend a ball.”

“There is nowhere I would rather be, but on your arm.”

Scarlett smiled at him so broadly that Hunter sighed, knowing she had won this argument, as she did most. When Scarlett turned that grin on him, he was lost, lost in her eyes and her loveliness. Not that he wouldn’t tell her when she was wrong — for she certainly was, now and again. But today was a day for celebration.

“I shouldn’t have let you come,” he mumbled now as they arrived at Lord and Lady Totnes’ home, where the Twelfth Night celebrations were taking place. “My meeting with Lord Falconer could have been over and done, and I could have been back at Wintervale with you. Instead?—”

“Instead, we are taking part in these beautiful Twelfth Night festivities,” she finished. “Which I wanted to attend — with you.”

He still wasn’t completely convinced he should have allowed her to come, but she had been so persuasive that despite the doctor’s orders, she had been out of bed and in his carriage seated next to him but a few days after her accident. She promised him she was feeling much better, and it was true that he could no longer see the pain in her eyes as he had even the day before.

Luckily, London was but a few hours from Wintervale, and so the carriage ride hadn’t been long, and at the very least they were in plush conditions, with a warm stone on Scarlett’s feet, a blanket over her legs, and Hunter’s heated body at her back.

“I hope you didn’t feel like you had to do this,” he said, tilting his head down toward her now, “To prove to me that you could live in London.”

“No,” she shook her head. “I have to do this to prove tomyselfthat this is not the London I remember, not the London of my parents. A new place, where we will make new memories.”

“That we will,” he nodded, winking wickedly at her. “I can assure you.”

She swatted him good-naturedly but leaned back into him, and he tightened his arms around her as the carriage pulled to a stop.

“How do you find it so far, my Clara Courtlove?” She laughed and pushed away from him.

“Much better than anticipated,” she responded, wiggling her eyebrows at him, her gaze trailing up and down his own dandy-ish costume. “Especially when one is accompanied by a man such as Samuel Strutt.”

They were in their costumes for the evening. Having not been in attendance at the previous night’s festivities, their roles had been chosen for them, the cards sent to their Londontownhome. Hunter eyed Scarlett’s particularly low bodice. He didn’t much care for others to be looking upon it, but he reassured himself with the thought that only he would see what was underneath.

Hunter held out a hand to help Scarlett out of the carriage, and he didn’t miss the deep breath she took before grasping it and walking down the steps and up the cobbled path and into the house. Facing thetoncould be harrowing, to be sure — especially considering the fact that their marriage had been under a great deal of scrutiny during their three-month separation — but if anyone held the courage necessary to confront the rest of them, it was Scarlett, he thought, his already puffed chest sticking out even further than the design of his garish costume.

They had hardly taken a step in the door when their hosts nearly accosted them, and Hunter wanted to step in front of Scarlett and protect her, but it appeared she didn’t need him as she gracefully greeted them. In fact, she soon charmed the crowd, though he didn’t leave her side — most especially as she could hardly walk on her own, her ankle still as sore as it was. Mercifully, the physician’s diagnosis of a sprain had proven correct, but it would be difficult for Scarlett to spend the night standing upon it. She was insistent, however, that she attend, and so he would do what he could to help her.

“Oxford! Don’t tell me I finally have the chance to meet your beautiful wife?”

“Wimbledon!” Hunter’s face stretched into a wide, genuine grin as a tall, handsome man strode over to the pair of them, reaching out an arm to greet her husband.

“I can see why he kept you hidden away,” said Lord Wimbledon with a wink. “He was afraid someone like me might attempt to steal you.”

“Try as you might, Wimbledon,” Hunter said good-naturedly, though he sent his friend a look of warning. “But you have no chance, I’m afraid.”

Wimbledon winked at Scarlett, promised to sit next to her at dinner, and was on his way to flirt with the next women he found.

“Are you enjoying yourself, darling?” Hunter asked her as someone handed her a glass of champagne.

“I am, actually,” she said, her eyes widening in surprise as she turned to look at him. “Certainly, there are those who choose to talk to us to determine the current status of our relationship, but there are some genuine souls here who seem to truly want to know me.”

“How could they not?” he asked with a smile. “You are the most beautiful woman in the room.”

“I doubt that,” she said with a laugh.