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He was rewarded by a wide smile.
‘How wise of you. As you see, I am busy and Hester is in an outhouse, plucking one of the older hens for the pot. There is some hot water in the kettle, it will not take long to boil, and you will find coffee and the pot over there on the shelves.’
She moved aside to allow him to reach the kettle, but concentrated on her saucepan while he busied himself making coffee. They did not speak, but Gabriel thought it felt pleasantly companionable.
‘May I offer you a coffee, too, Mrs Hopwood?’
‘Why, thank you, yes. I am just finishing the custard pudding for tonight’s dinner; it should thicken in a few moments, then I can put it on the marble slab in the larder to cool.’ She paused, lifted the spoon to check the consistency, then continued with her stirring. ‘The morning room fire had not been lit when I went in there earlier, so I suggest that we drink it here. This is by far the warmest room in the house at present.’ She looked up suddenly, frowning. ‘Apart from your bedchamber. I gave instructions that the fire should be kept in all night.’
‘And it has been,’ he assured her, ‘but now I am recovered, I dare not invite you to join me there to drink coffee.’
‘Or for anything else.’
‘No, of course. Not on such a short acquaintance.’
He knew he was being provocative and he wondered if she would take offence. Instead she laughed at him. It was a happy sound, loud and full-throated. Infectious, he thought, smiling inwardly. Joyous.
‘Indeed not.’ She gave her custard a final stir and lifted it from the stove. ‘Pray, take the coffee to the table, sir, and we can enjoy it here. I believe there are some biscuits somewhere that Hester baked yesterday.’
She took the saucepan to the larder and returned a few moments later carrying a small jar. When she opened it, the smell of lemons wafted into the air.
‘I commend your previous housekeeper, Mr Shaw. She left the larder very well stocked. Even preserved fruits. I find it very unusual,’ she continued, as he took a biscuit, ‘to have a house with no servants. Did you turn them all off?’
‘Not at all. The family that lived here did not wish to renew their lease and moved out at Michaelmas. I knew I might need a retreat and had the house furnished with all the necessities. Including a well-stocked larder. That was vital, with winter approaching.’
‘It is your house, then?’
‘Most assuredly it is my house. I purchased it only this summer.’
‘And you prefer to live here with no staff.’
‘I do.’
‘But you are a gentleman. You must be accustomed to having servants. A cook, housekeeper.’
Her dark eyes were fixed upon his face, intense, questioning. He gave a little shrug and said lightly, ‘The needs of a bachelor are far simpler than those of a married man, madam.’ She gave a tiny hiss of exasperation and he laughed. ‘The truth is that Thoresby and I spent some time in the army. We are perfectly capable of looking after ourselves, Mrs Hopwood.’ She looked so frankly disbelieving that he laughed. ‘Very well, on this occasion your help was very much appreciated.’
‘Grudgingly appreciated would be more accurate.’
‘Was I unpardonably rude to you?’
‘Outrageously so.’
‘I shall blame it upon the blow on the head that I received.’
‘Fustian! You do not like having your will crossed.’ She rested her arms on the table and leaned towards him, her plump, rounded breasts rising from her low décolletage. Desire stirred and he tried to ignore it.
‘I wish you will tell me why it is dangerous for me to stay here.’ She read his thoughts and blushed. ‘Apart from the obvious, of course.’
‘Is that not reason enough?’
‘I have Hester with me and, in your current state of health, I do not fear you.’
‘I would not have you fear me at all, madam, especially as we are snowbound here for a few more days at least. If you believe nothing else of me, believe I am a gentleman.’ He raised his brows. ‘Why do you look at me like that, do you doubt me?’
‘My experience of gentlemen is that they take what they want of their servants—of any woman—and damn the consequences.’
He frowned. Not at the unladylike language but at the bitterness in her voice. He had not heard that note before and it disturbed him.
‘Not all gentlemen behave like that, Mrs Hopwood,’ he told her. ‘And you are not my servant.’
‘No, indeed.’ She gave a faint smile, her eyes softening, then she seemed to recollect herself and withdrew from him. ‘Since the snow makes it impossible for you to be rid of me for a few days, I had best get on with preparing dinner for this evening.’
She made to rise and he put out a hand to stop her.
‘Not yet. Take a moment to drink your coffee.’ She sank down again and he said, ‘You are an unusual woman, Nancy Hopwood. Tell me about yourself.’
She shrugged. ‘My story is no different from many other respectable women. I have no man to support me—and no wish for one!—and I was fortunate enough to find a position as a cook.’
‘And your employer, he is good man?’
She smiled at that. ‘My employer is not a man at all, it is a charity. I work at a house in the north of England that takes in women who have no other home. There is a small farm attached where we grow what we need and sell any surplus and we all do what we can to support ourselves. Those who are good with their hands make things we can sell, such as knitted purses, or stockings. My passion is cooking, so it was natural I should take over the kitchen.’
‘Then what were you doing in Tuxford?’
‘I have been to London. On business. I was on my way back when I came across you in the wood.’ Her shoulders lifted a fraction. ‘I am not one to ignore any creature in trouble.’
‘Which was fortunate for me.’ He refilled their cups. ‘But how long can this charity spare you?’
‘As long as I am needed here.’ She met his eyes, a challenge in her own. ‘We may differ on how long that will be, but you will admit that while the snow continues I cannot leave.’
And it was safe enough for her to remain. For the moment.
He said: ‘I freely admit that you cannot quit this house today, ma’am, and most likely you will be here tomorrow, too, but you should go as soon as may be. I am going on well enough now. John and I are quite capable of looking after ourselves.’
‘And you will not tell me why you are so eager for me to leave?’
‘Will you believe me if I say I might forget I am a gentleman if you stay here much longer?’
She smiled at that, but shook her head. ‘Of course I will, but that is not the only reason. There is some mystery about you and I wish you would share it with me.’
‘It is best that you do not know, ma’am.’
‘Then I am obliged to conclude you are here upon some unlawful business.’ She sighed and her mouth drooped. ‘I do not wish to think of you as a villain.’
It was his turn to smile.
‘You need not think it, but neither will your gusty sighs persuade me to tell you.’
‘I thought I might as well try.’
She peeped up at him from under her lashes, a roguish look that made him catch his breath as the simmering desire turned to a bolt of pure lust. It required a supreme effort to remain still and keep his countenance impassive.
She finished her coffee. ‘Thank you, sir, for the refreshment and the company. But now I really must get on.’
As she pushed the cup away he reached out and caught her wrist.
‘Will you dine with me again? I think I am well enough to sit in the morning room this evening. We could of course use the dining room but it is large and draughty. Dashed difficult to heat.’
Nancy was shocked at the way her skin reacted to his touch. Darts of electricity shot through her arm, setting her pulse racing. It was as much as she could do not to cry out or pull away.
She said, as calmly as she could, ‘I believe you dined here in the kitchen with Mr Thoresby, prior to our arrival.’
‘Well, yes, but—’
He released her and the disappointment she felt was a further surprise. Alarming, too. He might be a gentleman, he might not mean her any harm, but he was surely dangerous. It was in her own interests to keep him at a distance.
‘Then I suggest we all eat in here together,’ she told him. ‘There is a strong argument in favour of the arrangement, the food will be hotter when it reaches the table.’
‘I have no objection, if that is what you wish.’
She was relieved he had accepted the suggestion so readily. Much as she had enjoyed his company last night, she knew it would be safer to dine with the others. She found Gabriel far too attractive and was in no doubt that it would be all too easy to succumb to his charm. Heaven forbid he should realise the effect he had on her. Now she threw him a pitying look.
‘I am the cook, Mr Shaw. I am quite accustomed to eating at the kitchen table.’
‘Who is eating at the kitchen table?’ Hester came in, carrying the plucked chicken and bringing with her a blast of cold air.
‘Everyone,’ Nancy replied. ‘It will be more convenient for us all to eat together.’
‘Oh, no, madam, we cannot do that.’ Hester stopped in her tracks. ‘You are a lady, Miss Nancy, even if you have fallen on hard times. You will dine in the morning room with Mr Shaw.’
Nancy gave a little tut of frustration. ‘It is not seemly for us to dine alone.’
‘It is seemlier than you both sitting in the kitchen,’ Hester retorted. She stomped into the larder to deposit the chicken, saying when she returned, ‘And from what I’ve seen of this gentleman, I don’t believe you’ll come to any harm.’
Gabriel beamed at her. ‘Thank you, Mrs Yelland.’
‘You may be right about this...gentleman.’ Nancy threw him a scorching look. ‘However, it will be a lot less work for everyone if we all eat together. And you won’t need to carry the food through those draughty passages!’
But Hester was not to be moved. She folded her arms.
‘If you won’t think of yourself, madam, think of Mr Thoresby and William. It’ll quite put them off their dinner, to have to eat it in your presence.’
‘But we dined together when we arrived here,’ Nancy protested.
‘That was from necessity. What with Mr Shaw at death’s door and the rest of the house unheated and unprepared, there was only the kitchen fit to use. But now everything’s different. We will all be much happier if the two of you are dining elsewhere and we can get on with our own meal in peace.’
Gabriel gave a little cough. ‘You would not wish to make the others uncomfortable, Mrs Hopwood.’
‘No, of course not, but since I shall be preparing the meal—’
Hester interrupted her. ‘We managed yesterday and we shall do the same this evening. I am sure Mr Shaw will agree that you work hard enough as it is. The least we can do is to see to it that you enjoy your dinner.’
Nancy stared at her in silence, frustration bringing an angry colour to her cheeks.
Gabriel rose from the table, chuckling. ‘And you said I did not like having my will crossed. I shall leave you now, but I look forward to joining you for dinner later, Mrs Hopwood. In the morning room!’
Nancy watched him walk out and it was as much as she could do not to pick up something from the table and hurl it at the door.
‘Of all the arrogant, high-handed—’
‘Very much like yourself,’ Hester commented. ‘Come along now, Miss Nancy, there’s no time for a tantrum. We must get a move on or we will be eating dinner at midnight.’
Nancy returned to her cooking, muttering to herself, but gradually the discipline of preparing the meal soothed away her anger and by the time she went up to her room to change for dinner she was resigned to her fate. She put on the blue silk again, knowing it was the only evening gown that was decorous enough for a poor and modest widow.
* * *
Gabriel was just coming out of his room opposite her own as she stepped out on to the landing. With a bow he offered her his arm. She hesitated, still angry with him for not supporting her decision to eat in the kitchen.
‘It is not gallantry,’ he informed her. ‘I am still unsteady and I need your assistance to descend these stairs.’
A laugh bubbled up, dispelling her anger.
‘You are a complete rogue,’ she scolded, placing her fingers on his sleeve.
‘Unfair, ma’am, when you yourself say I am not yet fully recovered.’
‘I was wrong. You are much improved, although I am relieved to see you are using the handrail.’
They reached the hall and she withdrew her hand and preceded him into the morning room, where the shutters had been closed and the fire was burning merrily. The small dining table was already set for dinner and Gabriel stepped forward to hold her chair.
‘If you are afraid for your virtue, we could always leave the door open,’ he suggested.
‘And lose the benefit of the fire? No, I thank you.’ She glanced up at him. ‘I will risk being alone with you.’
It was no hardship, she thought, as they settled down to their meal. Gabriel was good company. He was intelligent, his conversation was both witty and entertaining and she soon relaxed and began to enjoy herself. She had forgotten to put the muslin fichu about her neck, but there was nothing in Gabriel’s manner to cause her alarm. His eyes did not linger on her breasts, nor did he try to flirt with her. They talked companionably about various subjects with the ease of old friends, and the evening sped by. When the long-case clock in the hall chimed the hour, she exclaimed in surprise.
‘Is that the time already? I had no idea it was so late.’
‘Eleven o’clock cannot be considered late, ma’am.’
‘It is for an invalid such as yourself. You need to rest.’ She rose, but waved to him to remain in his seat. ‘Pray do not get up.’ She walked to the side table to collect a decanter and a glass and bring it to him. ‘There, I will leave you with your brandy and bid you goodnight, Mr Shaw.’
When he reached for her hand she gave it to him without thinking. He pressed a kiss upon her fingers and let her go. A friendly gesture, she told herself. Nothing more.
‘Goodnight, Mrs Hopwood.’
‘Mr Shaw.’
