Page 5 of Joy to the Earl
“’Tis the season for miracles,” he said hopefully.
She rolled her eyes.“’Tis the season for mulled wine.”
And then she turned her back and walked away.
Chapter 3
Thursday, 21 December 1809
Joy and Wren had arrivedfairly late the day before, and after the rigors of travel, the arrival of the coachman (if not the coach), and a full meal, Joy couldn’t keep her eyes open.Both women collapsed into the bed of their gifted room and slept soundlessly until the next morning.Cullen was given a place with the inn’s stableboys, probably just as cosy a spot as any a woodland creature might find in the forest.
After waking on Thursday morning, the full significance of her situation fell upon Joy.She was stranded at an out-of-the-way inn, with her carriage stuck on the road a mile back, and oh yes, the man who passed her over ten years ago was also under the same roof.
Well, they wouldn’t be stuck here for long.Joy simply had to avoid Douglas for a day, and then they’d all leave this place, intent on holiday plans.
Slowly, she became aware of many sounds echoing up from both the courtyard outside, which the room overlooked, and from the ground floor of the inn itself.Hopeful that this meant the road had been cleared, and people were now free to travel, she dressed and asked Wren to find them a quick breakfast so that they might not lose any time.
Wren dutifully went in search of food, but did not return by the time Joy’s stomach was growling, so she went downstairs herself in search of sustenance.The innkeeper greeted her with a benevolent smile, and indeed it seemed as though all of the foyer and the common room were filled with men dressed for the out of doors.
“Does this mean that the way is clear?”Joy asked, hoping that he did not interpret her enthusiasm as a commentary on the inn itself.
The innkeeper still smiled, but shook his head.“Alas, not yet, ma’am.The lads from the village are doing what they can, and one of them has stopped by to ask any able-bodied man for assistance.There have been several volunteers, for it seems that any form of exercise is preferable to sitting and waiting.”
Just then, Joy saw Douglas and the ex-soldier with whom he was sharing his room.Both men were dressed in greatcoats.
Douglas caught her staring before she could look away.He said, “I’m joining the war effort against the blizzard.”
“I imagine you’re motivated to return home.”She gave him a stiff nod, unable to ignore just how handsome he looked with his clean-shaven face and his sparkling eyes.She added, “Everyone will be grateful to continue their journey when the road is clear.”
“Especially you.You can’t stand being under the same roof as me.”But he gave her a smile as he said it, and her stomach lurched in response.
She was just hungry, that was all.She was too old for her body to be reacting like a debutante’s just because a man smiled at her.Especially when that man was Douglas.
Joy and Wren spent most of the day in the common room.Wren knitted away, Joy read a book.The snow continued to drift down.
In the late afternoon, the troupe of men returned to the inn, bearing the news that they had made some progress, but that the massive drifts across the road and the extraordinary wetness of the snow had hindered their efforts.They were all confined to the inn for another night.The good news was that a side road to the village had been cleared, which meant that supplies (strained by the sudden influx of guests) could be replenished.
Douglas found Joy in the foyer, and informed her that the village road was open.“If you like, you and your maid could probably find hospitality with a local family tomorrow.”
“I hope to be long gone by then,” she said.“Surely the road will be clear by tomorrow?”
“So eager to be rid of me, aren’t you, Joy?”
“You overestimate your significance in my mind, sir.”
He took a step backward, laying his hand over his chest in a mock stagger.“You wound me, Joy.If you do not think of me fondly, at least tell me you think of me with fury.The one thing I could not stand would be if you did not think of me at all.”
For all his theatrics, she sensed a thread of truth underneath the words.And a hint of vulnerability.Did Douglas think of her?Had he thought of her at all in the past ten years?
Joy retreated from Douglas, though she went to the common room rather than the bedchamber upstairs—mostly so it wouldn’t look like she was retreating.
Clara was there, singing as she worked to tidy up the fireplace and stock more wood for the coming evening.Joy heard cheerful carols in the tavern room, but Clara seemed more inclined to the melancholy songs of winter, the ones in the plaintive minor key that a person kept hearing in their heart even after the song was over.She sang,
The north wind doth blow, and we shall have snow,
and what will the robin do then, poor thing?
He’ll hide in a barn, and keep himself warm
