Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,212

hope.”

“Nonsense, my lord.” Gemma was already striding from the kitchen. “We’ll not send you out in inclement weather. That would be unneighborly.”

“How kind of you, Miss Price.” He aimed a smirk at Bess. “She is a lovely young woman, your cousin.”

“Not vexing like I am?” Bess lowered the candlestick to her side. “I’ll return shortly. Stay here and do not move a muscle.”

In an act of defiance, he flexed his chest—right, left, right—and grinned.

She narrowed her eyes. “Does anyone find you charming?”

“If you must ask, I’m not trying hard enough.”

“Save your effort. Men like you have no effect on me.” She spun on her heel and stalked from the room, her racing heart proving she was a liar. After all this time, she was not immune to a handsome scoundrel, even when he would bring her nothing but trouble.

Gemma met her at the landing above stairs and shoved a blanket into her hands. “Lord Julius will stay in my father’s bedchamber. We uncovered the furniture. Anne is making the bed, and Robbie is building a fire. Please, direct our guest to the room.”

“He requires a keeper,” Bess said. “Did you see the mess he made in the kitchen? The man is inebriated.”

“I’ve heard rumors Lord Julius has a wild streak. It appears the gossips were telling the truth.” Gemma bustled toward her father’s old room. “Provide him with an escort if you prefer.”

“I don’t approve of him staying here.”

Bess’s cousin stopped at the threshold and leaned against the doorjamb. “That is the benefit to being an independent woman. I require no one’s approval but my own.”

She blew a kiss and sashayed into the chamber. Hearing Bess’s own words parroted back elicited a smile of admiration. Her cousin was coming into her own.

When Gemma first came to stay with Bess while in mourning, she’d blushed every time Bess looked her way. She spoke in a near whisper, and rather than admit a preference for anything, she would suffer. A year of Bess’s companionship turned her into a bit of a rebel.

Upon returning to the kitchen, Bess found it empty. The lord’s clothes littered the floor by the fire, and he’d secured the door from inside. The evidence of his continued presence eased her worries about him having wandered off into the storm. She took a moment to hang his clothes on a rope strung across one end of the kitchen and grabbed a lantern to search the house.

Lord Julius made it as far as the servants’ dining hall before collapsing in a chair by the dying fire. The icicles melted soon after he came indoors, but his hair was damp. “Wh-where are the Christmas b-boughs and m-mistletoe?” Shivers continued to torment him; his lips were light blue. With a sigh, Bess set aside the lantern and draped the blanket around his shoulders, tucking it beneath his chin.

“We only arrived at Davensworth Cottage yesterday,” she said. “There has been no time to decorate.”

Bess, Gemma, and the two servants had spent the entire day setting the kitchen back to rights while the cook met with merchants in the village to replenish the pantry and conduct interviews to hire an assistant and scullery maid. Some goods were delivered that afternoon, but Mrs. Mills wasn’t expected back until tomorrow. Bess’s shoulders drooped. She had anticipated an early bedtime before Lord Julius’s arrival caused an uproar.

He grabbed the edges of the wool blanket to keep it in place and leaned his head against the seat back, his eyelids sinking to half-mast. If he fell asleep in the chair and woke with a sore neck and a chill, it would be what he deserved.

“Come to bed before you pass out.” She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and urged him to stand.

“It’s not Christmas without greenery and mistletoe,” he mumbled as he complied with her orders.

“From what I’ve heard, my lord, mistletoe and you under the same roof would be a grave mistake.”

He laughed and allowed her to shepherd him toward the stairwell. She held the lantern aloft to light the way.

“Who has been gossiping about me?” he asked. “Surely, the lovely Miss Price isn’t spreading tales.”

“Gemma didn’t believe the rumors at first, but your behavior tonight has caused her to reconsider.”

“If you are referring to me stripping my wet clothes, I did what any reasonable man would to avoid freezing to death. Do you fault me for having survival instincts?”

“I blame you for getting yourself into the predicament in the first place.”

They trudged up the stairs