Page 137 of Snowbound Surrender
“Do you not have a pocket watch?”
“No,” he said shortly, surprising her.
“You don’t have a pocket watch?” she looked at him, perplexed. “Every man has a pocket watch.”
“I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“No one ever gave me one.”
“Could you not have bought your own?”
He shrugged. “I suppose I could have. But … it simply didn’t seem right.”
Sensing his reluctance to speak on the topic, she frowned in consternation but didn’t question him any further.
She had nearly kissed him.Twice now, he had been close to taking her lips with his, and twice she had pulled away. What kind of man was he, that he couldn’t even convince his own wife to kiss him? Not only that, he had nearly broken down, had nearly told her of his own disappointment. He had asked his father for a pocket watch just like his, but his father always told him to earn enough money to buy his own.
Well, Hunter thought, he would have to forget that for the moment, for he had a role to play — the role of the focused landlord. They visited one house after another, bearing baskets and a promise of lower rents in the new year. Hunter was overcome with the joy on the faces of his tenants. What truly took him aback, however, was their reaction to Scarlett. They all loved his wife, welcoming her into their homes as though she were an old friend instead of the new wife of their lord. How often had she visited? He had never seen anything like it in all his years.
He finally asked her about it as he turned the sleigh back toward Wintervale.
“Why am I so friendly with them?” she asked, fixing her gaze upon him. “Because they are people, Hunter. People who I enjoy speaking with. For the past three months, I have been alone with them — and the servants of course, and then there is Lavinia, but she is not always around — and I enjoy their company. Besides, it is important to ensure they are happy. It is better for you at the end of the day.”
He nodded, wondering as he did ifshewas happy alone here on his estate. As though she heard his thoughts, however, she continued.
“I love it out here,” she said wistfully. “It is so open, so free, and you have a beautiful home, Hunter, truly you do. I couldn’t imagine being stuck in London for months on end, as you are. I actually feel sorry for you, that you must be.”
He certainly didn’t feel sorry for himself. He loved his work there — though he understood what she said regarding the freedom of the country and he wished once more he spent more time here.
“Oh, look!” she said, pointing to a path just visible through the evergreens. “This is where I wanted to stop.”
“Stop for what?” he asked.
“Boughs for the house! You are apparently not the only one who dislikes Christmas, Hunter, for there is not a decoration to be found within all of Wintervale. We looked everywhere, though Abbot and Mrs. Shepherd, as well as Lavinia, assured me I would come up empty. It seems Christmas is not a family tradition. Which is sad, really, as that is what Christmas is all about. I ordered some things, but others we must collect ourselves. Here, stop now.”
He slowed the horses, though he wanted nothing more than to continue on toward home. He really did have to be going if he wanted to make it to London. As he thought of it, a snowflake dropped onto the tip of his nose, and he looked around to see a multitude of them falling around them.
“It’s snowing again!” she said, a look of glee coming over her face, and he couldn’t help but stop now, wanting to see more of this woman who had revealed herself to him today in the homes of his tenants. If Christmas was going to bring some happiness to her, well, he supposed for an hour he could stop and allow her to enjoy it. And then, when they returned to the house, he reallyhad to be on his way, or he would never make it to London in time.
“All right, then,” he said, sharing her smile. “What do you need me to do?”
“Come!” she exclaimed with the same enthusiasm Bobby had held earlier. “You can carry for me.”
“Carry?”
His question was soon answered, however, as she piled bough after bough in his arms or the bag which had previously held the baskets for the tenants. She picked up all of the pieces of evergreens that had fallen to the ground, before carefully selecting other types of greenery. It all looked the same to Hunter, but she seemed to know exactly what each type of shrub or tree was, adding all to her collection. He dragged the filled bag back to the sleigh, before returning to hold the rest himself. He was relieved when she finally seemed satisfied, for he didn’t think he could carry anything else without it all falling to the ground.
“I think that should do, for now at least,” she said, bounding back toward the sleigh, while he followed much more slowly, trying to balance everything. “Oh, Wintervale will look so lovely once all of this is strewn about.”
“Where do you even plan on putting this?” he asked, his voice muffled as his face was entirely covered by branches.
“Everywhere!” she exclaimed. “There is nothing like the feeling of Christmas, Hunter. It enters your very soul, filling you with a warmth unlike anything else. Have you truly never felt it?”
He finally relieved himself of his burden, dropping it into the sleigh, before turning back toward her. He seemed to forget how to breathe entirely, however, when he looked at her face. Those eyes which had regarded him with so much chagrin were now glistening with exhilaration, her cheeks were rosy as could befrom the cold air, and her lips red and inviting. Finally, her walls had come down, and he was not going to let this moment pass.
“I suppose,” he said slowly and carefully, drawing closer to her. “I am beginning to feel it now.”
