Page 33 of The House Saphir
“What are you doing?”
Mallory yelped. Her foot slipped. She fell backward, her body splashing into the water. Cold accosted her, dug icy spears into her skin. Mallory cried out from the shock, but the sound exploded from her in a flurry of bubbles. She launched herself up to the surface and spun around, spluttering.
Armand was standing beside the basin, mouth agape.
“Nothing!” she cried, sloshing through the water. “I wasn’t doing anything! Why would you sneak up on me like that?”
“You… you are standing in my fountain,” he said. “You appeared to be climbing it.” He listed his head curiously. “Actually, you appeared to be defiling it.”
“I would never!”
“Were you trying to break off that salamander?”
“I was inspecting the craftsmanship.” She angrily climbed back over the wall, wishing that her teeth weren’t chattering as hard as they were. With her sodden gown clinging to her skin, the night’s breeze was a brutal assault.
Armand was grinning outright now. “An expert on my family’s history, and also on medieval sculpture? I am impressed, Miss Fontaine.” His gaze dipped downward, and he sucked in a sudden breath and put his back to her. “My apologies. We should get you inside. You must be freezing.”
Confused, Mallory glanced down, and mortification washed over her. Her soaked nightgown was clinging to her body in waysthat it definitely should not have been. She tried to pull the fabric away from her skin, but the more she struggled, the more it clung.
“Here!” Armand snatched up her forgotten cloak and held it toward her, covering his eyes with his free hand.
Mallory pulled the cloak around herself as quickly as she could, though her fingers were going numb and her movements were stilted and slow. She checked that the fabric still covered her chest and throat.
“You can turn around now.”
He did so, but cautiously. “I assure you, I saw nothing that would call your modesty into question.”
She snorted. “Liar.”
Even with the world colorless beneath the moonlight, Mallory was certain his face went crimson. “You will never hear me admit it.”
This elicited a real laugh from her, and Armand’s shoulders relaxed.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked, using the edge of the cloak to dry her dripping hair.
“I often have trouble sleeping. I was going to make myself something to drink when I happened to look out the window and saw you preparing to climb into the fountain. You’ll have to forgive my curiosity.”
“I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. And right now—I want to get out of this wet nightgown.”
“Of course.” Armand bowed and stepped aside as she brushed past him. “Though perhaps you would care for some hot chocolate?”
Her steps slowed.
“It will help to warm you.”
“I would not wake your staff for such a request.”
“I would not either.”
She turned back, noting his hesitant smile.
“I can make it for you,” he said. “It’s what I’d intended to make for myself.”
The offer was unexpected. A lord… making his own hot chocolate?
When she didn’t immediately respond, his smile tipped to one side. “I won’t poison it. I promise.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
