Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,210

toss his head and snort. Torch danced sideways; Julius gripped the horse’s sides to keep his seat. A loud crack of thunder ripped the sky open and frozen rain pelted them. Torch whinnied, on the verge of bolting. Julius managed to hold him at bay then loosened his grip to ease the horse’s sense of feeling trapped.

“Easy, now. Easy. Let’s seek out shelter.”

At Julius’s urging, Torch took a few jittery steps. Lightening struck a tree a hundred feet away.

“Damnation!” The bright blast blinded him. Torch whirled on his hind legs. Julius tightened his hold on the reins a second before his horse shot into the forest. Julius wobbled on the saddle as the gelding wove through trees and dashed under low hanging branches. He ducked before a fir limb unseated him, but it clipped his hat. A white shroud of snow and rain obstructed Julius's view. Icy shards, sharp as needles, struck his face. He closed his eyes to protect them as Torch raced into a culvert. He yelled for the gelding to stop. The horse tensed beneath him and sailed over a creek. Julius’s reflexes were too slow. He bounced on the saddle, becoming airborne. The reins ripped from his grasp.

He hit the frigid shallow water hard. The air was sucked from his lungs. Torch’s hoofbeats grew faint. Julius lay staring into the night sky, waiting to learn if he was still alive.

Chapter Two

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Lady Elisabeth Hadley jumped. “What in the world?"

“Miss Price! Miss Price!” A thunderous commotion came from the corridor as if a herd of wild horses ran loose in her cousin’s country cottage. The young maid burst through the sitting room threshold with the front of her apron gripped in her fists. Her twin brother careened into her when he sprinted into the room. They stumbled but didn’t fall. Their identical chestnut brown eyes were as round as mincemeat pies.

Bess’s cousin frowned. “How many times did Papa tell you not to run in the house?”

Anne, thin cheeks red from exertion, stammered an apology, but Gemma was a stern mistress tonight and wouldn’t allow the transgression to pass. “He would be cross if he were here to witness such carrying on.”

“A man’s out back,” Robbie blurted and pointed in the general direction of the back of the house. “He’s banging on the kitchen door.”

Gemma dropped her needlepoint in the basket at her feet. “Who is he? What does he want?”

“To come inside,” the servants said in unison.

Anne’s chin quivered. “What if he’s come to murder us?”

“Utter nonsense. I will speak with him myself.” Gemma pushed from the plush pink armchair and headed toward the threshold. She stopped long enough to wag her finger at the twins. “And no more scary stories before bed for either of you. I didn’t teach you to read so you could fill your minds with rubbish.”

The adolescents bobbed their heads. “Yes, ma’am.”

Bess popped from her seat. “Gemma, wait.” On a night when the wind howled through the shutters and thunder rolled across the sky, no sane man would dare to venture outdoors. “Let’s go together. We will keep the door barred until we know who it is.”

Bess suggested the servants wait by the fire so they wouldn’t catch a chill and followed Gemma into the corridor. At the bottom of the stairwell, a splintering crack echoed through the cottage. Cursing came from the kitchen followed by a crash that shook the floorboards.

Bess’s heart lodged in her throat. Gemma gripped her arm.

“He’s inside, Bess. What should we do?”

Glass shattered. “B-bollocks!”

A man’s form filled the threshold, not five feet away. His back was to them. Icicles clung to his dark hair, and shivers wracked his body. He stumbled against the doorframe. “D-damnation.”

With a shrug of his shoulders, his greatcoat crumpled at his feet. His jacket followed. When he ripped off his gloves with his teeth and fumbled with his waistcoat, Gemma issued a tiny squeak and pulled Bess into the dark butler’s pantry.

“There is a naked man in my house,” her cousin whispered, on the verge of hysteria.

Bess stole a peek around the doorjamb. The intruder’s waistcoat and cravat had joined the pile. He was tugging his shirt over his head.

Not quite naked yet. Although he would be in a moment unless she acted quickly.

She felt around in the dark for a weapon and grabbed the first item she touched—a large candlestick. Brandishing it like a cricket bat, she murmured, “Stay here.”

Gemma gripped Bess’s waist and shuffled behind her.

“I said stay.” Bess hushed