The Earl's Christmas Delivery (8 page)

He moved to Miss Meriwether. It would be morning in just a few hours and she needed a restful sleep. Shivering as she was, she would not get one
and that could not be good for her. She might end up with the croup, or a fever, if he didn't take care of her. He lowered himself down to the pallet, pulling her blanket closer around her and tucking it in. Thank God she was asleep or he'd have gotten that tongue lashing now. It would be worth it, though, to brush against her form and hear the soft noises she made.

Content that she was as secure as he could make her, he
stretched out on the pallet. His body ached from the long day's efforts, and God only knew what misery he'd be in come morning. For now, however, his pain and his discomfort dissipated. He reached his arm around Miss Meriwether and pulled her up close against him. She sighed, then snuggled into the warmth that the addition of his body created.

For what was left of the night he would hold her. He'd keep her warm. He doubted he'd get much sleep himself, but just now he could think of no sweeter torment than to be so close to Miss Meriwether, yet truly so far.

Morning arrived, gray and damp. Carole nestled deeper into her blankets, appreciating the warmth that surrounded her like a comforting embrace. It seemed so long since she'd felt this warm, this
sheltered. It had to be a dream—a wonderful dream in which she was not alone, left to fend for herself in a world that seemed to have no place for her. This was her place, right here, warm and cared for and safe. She reveled in it, wishing she might never have to open her eyes and face reality.

But she did open her eyes. This dream was far too real. She could touch the rough fabric of the blankets, smell the musty scent of the straw, feel the
protective sweep of arms wrapped around her...

Arms wrapped around her?

Oh, but gracious heavens! She was sleeping with Lord Bahumburgh! She was cuddled up next to him, cooing like a contented dove and he was holding her like... like a lover!

She turned
over, desperately hoping she would find out she was mistaken. She was not. Her face was mere inches from his and he was smiling at her. He reached up and touched her, in fact, brushing her tangled hair away from her eyes as if he had every right to do so.

"Good morning," he said.

It was such casual thing to say, yet their situation was everything but casual. His arms were strong and possessive. His expression spoke intimacy and understanding. His voice was deep, dusky and tender. And his eyes—oh, but the way his still-sleepy eyes met hers and held them—it was no less shocking than the way his body had cradled hers, warmed her through the night.

Everything about this felt so very right that it could only be wrong. Very, very wrong.

"Let me go, sir," she said, her own voice crackly and unsure.

He touched her again, this time letting his finger tips trace along her cheek, running along her jaw and coming to rest on her lips. She blinked up at him, realizing he stared at her lips with an intensity that even she in her ignorance and inexperience could understand. He was going to kiss her again!

She wanted that kiss so badly, too. She would give in to him, press herself against him and take all that he had to offer. She'd melt into this man and be lost ever after.

Unless she didn't allow it. Of course she wouldn't allow it! She pushed away from him, slapping his hand away and struggling to free herself from his arms, the cloying blankets
, and the desperate pleas of her own body to stay exactly where she had been.

"No. This is all wrong, sir," she said, babbling for something to say as she tried desperately to regain an shred of decorum. "The ponies... I need to see to the ponies. Did the foal survive the night? Is Holly recovering
well?"

She crawled out of the pallet, grabbing at the stall walls to pull herself up onto shaky legs. One glance at the curious animals watching her and she could see that the little foal was far more steady on his own legs today than she felt on hers. Mother and child blinked in confusion at Carole's startling outburst in what had previously been such a quiet morning. She tried to calm herself, for their sakes.

And then she noticed the shepherds leaning over the rail in the doorway.

"Wondered when you were going to wake up," one of them said.

Their lascivious grins said they very likely hoped she would not come to her senses so quickly and they might have been treated to some bit of a show. She shuddered to think just how close to giving them that show she almost came. The earl must have realized the same. He chuckled behind her.

"Looks like our little friend their came through his first night among us," he said.

The shepherds agreed. "A pretty little foal you've got. A fine Christmas gift for those children, I should expect."

"Thank you," she said
keeping her eyes far, far away from the earl. "And a merry Christmas to you."

"Not as merry for us as it was looking for you," the shepherds chuckled.

The earl interrupted them. "That'll do, fellows. Now tell us what special care our Christmas pony will need."

"All that
yer doing seems fine, sir. Keep the colt near his mother and keep her as happy as you can."

"Do you think it will be safe for us to travel?" Carole asked. "The earl says we could put the foal in the wagon, but I wasn't sure if they needed a few days of quiet."

"How far is it yer going?"

"To
West Timley the earl replied. "An easy two hours, as long as the roads are still good."

"The storm's blown itself out, from the looks of things," the first shepherd said. "I'd guess the roads are good enough between here and
West Timley I'd say you could make it, no trouble."

That was good news. The last thing she needed was for the earl to insist on staying here with her for an extra day or two. Good heavens, she'd best get to the safety of Estelle's home quickly or there was no telling what might become of her.
She'd already let the man kiss her, and now she'd spent the night in his arms!

Surely he must be convinced she had not a shred of decency in her. He certainly wasn't showing any great distress over how she must be feeling at this point. He must think that was because she found it perfectly comfortable to be so intimate with a man.

It had been perfectly comfortable, of course, but that was hardly the point. If he thought her any kind of proper female, shouldn't he recognize how she would be feeling this morning? He would clearly not be so cheerful if he had any idea that his actions made her feel very wicked, indeed. A lady should never feel quite as wicked as Carole was feeling now. Neither should a lady regret her own wickedness quite as little as she did.

Heavens, but as the earl moved around their little stall, speaking softly to the mare and joking good naturedly with the shepherds, she could not help but let her eyes linger on him in the most unladylike fashion.
She recalled how his hands felt as he touched her, his lips soft yet demanding as he kissed her... his very body commanding hers as she pressed up against him. Oh, but she was worse than wicked! She was hopeless. She wanted to do all of those things again.

Her wanton thoughts were mercifully interrupted by the arrival of Basil and Mel. The
y joined the shepherds at the stall rail and called out a greeting. Carole was more than happy to see them and get a report on the condition of their brother.

"Oh, Jasper
is fine," Basil confirmed. "Nana gave him a nice place to sleep near the fire. He says he's hungry as an ox this morning, so I expect he'll be back to himself in no time."

"And I was just getting used to the quiet," Mel said, causing Basil to laugh.

"I'm so happy to hear that he's better," Carole said, then thought to question the shepherds. "And what of your lambs that were injured?"

"Eager to get back to their mums, thank you, Miss. You letting us snag a ride in
yer wagon got them out of that storm and under shelter just in time. They'll all three of them grow to be big healthy sheep, don't you worry for them."

"Seems you and that clumsy old wagon did a lot of good for everyone yesterday," Basil noted
to the earl. "We even got word this morning my horse turned up back in one of those villages we passed through. They're holding him for me. Nana says we need to stay here until after dinner then we can go get him."

"She's got the pudding strung up already and a goose in the oven!" Mel chimed. "I don' t suppose you two should like to stay and eat with us?"

The earl shook his head, coming up to stand very close to Carole.

"Sorry, lads. I'm afraid my sister's likely got her own pudding waiting for us. We'll be leaving here just as soon as we can."

"I figured as much," Basil said. "But don't go without seeing Nana. We told her what the lady said about your brother, that he was in a bad way. Nana says she's got just the thing for him."

Carole caught the earl smiling at her. She looked away quickly and got very busy plucking straw out of Holly's mane.

"That would be very appreciated," the earl said.

The young men got distracted by
some commotion in the stable around them. Obviously several other of the inn's patrons were preparing to get back on the road and activity was increasing. Carriages were being readied, horses were being harnessed, and very soon Carole would begin her new life at Estelle's home. It was, after all, Christmas day—a day of celebration and joy.

She did not feel like celebrating, though. Foolish as it was, she could simply not look at this day as one of happiness. Instead, all she could think of was that
she would be spending her last hours in the earl's presence. Once at Estelle's, he'd be caught up with family and all the things expected of him due to his lofty position. And then he'd be gone, headed back to his life in London. A life she would never be part of.

She scolded herself for such maudlin thoughts and blinked back what might just possibly be tears. She was wicked, indeed, to feel sorry for herself on Christmas Day. It was beyond time to put girlish things away and be happy for what she had.
She had a friend waiting for her, a fine home to go live in, a healthy pony and a new foal to deliver... all of these were miracles she could never have imagined just a few weeks ago. Surely they were more than enough to make up for one silly broken heart.

"We'd best be getting ourselves together," the shepherds called over the increasing din around them. "Our fellows and wives will be wondering what happened."

They bid them farewell and saw them off. The two young men also took their leave, keen to get back indoors to see what breakfast might be had.

"
And Nana says to tell you her cook is sending something out here for you, too," Basil assured them before he left. "She says her ladyship looks like she could do with a meal or two."

It took Carole a moment to realize what his words implied. Did he just call her
ladyship
? Gracious, the young men must be under a grievous misunderstanding!

The earl must not have noticed. He simply thanked the young men for their concern and assured them that breakfast from Mrs.
Hark's kitchen would be very much appreciated. Carole didn't quite know what to say, so she simply smiled and let them go.

She'd been mistaken for a countess! For
his
countess. Oh, but how reprehensible for her to take such private glee in that. Once her heart stopped pounding so loudly and the childish little grin stopped tugging at her lips, perhaps she would be quite ashamed of herself.

Myserleigh
stared after the young men. Had he heard them correctly? Had they mistaken Miss Meriwether for his wife? He'd been too surprised to correct them and now they were gone.

Did this mean the entire household had made that same supposition? Things were so chaotic yesterday when they'd met the young men, and then again last night when they'd arrived here, that he couldn't actually recall if proper introductions had been made. Apparently not. Somehow everyone knew that he was an
earl and apparently they'd assumed the rest about Miss Meriwether.

Well, for her sake he realized he should be glad for that. Traveling unchaperoned with a gentleman, sleeping in his arms on the floor of a stable... indeed, it was far better they all presume she was wed to him rather than believe what might be the other obvious implication. For her sake he'd much rather have them think her his wife than nothing more than a... well, he could not even consider that other.

He glanced over at her. She was cooing at the foal, making friends with him and patting the mother, reassuring them both that they would soon be happy in their new home. It appeared she had not caught the young men's mistake and was blissfully ignorant.

Good. He'd not set any of them straight. If he must be misjudged as a married man, he could think of no one he'd rather be associated with
than Miss Meriwether. She was kind, good-natured, out-going, and certainly everything pleasing to look at. She was well-spoken and modest despite their pitiful situation and any gentleman would be happy to have such an agreeable woman represent him in society. Besides that, she was a delicious armful and had fit perfectly when she snuggled against him last night.

Whichever man was bright enough to convince her to marry him would be a lucky man, indeed. Damn lucky. Unless
Myserleigh got a hold of him. The very idea of some other man curling up beside Miss Meriwether and keeping her warm through a storm made him a bit hot under the collar. More than hot, really. He was ready to do battle.

By God, just the thought of some unworthy scoundrel dragging that poor woman out into the cold, making her ride in discomfort on a rackety wagon seat and then forcing kisses on her in a dank stable... he'd kill the blackguard who would try such a thing. Never mind that he'd already done all of that, and more. He'd never let it happen to her again. If anyone was going to look after her in a wagon or keep her warm through the night it was, by the devil, going to be
him
.

He didn't mind people mistaking her for his wife because
—damn it—he wanted her to be just that. He'd never been interested in marriage before because, frankly, he'd never met Miss Meriwether before. Now that he had, he could not deny a shocking discovery.