“Another Christmas Alone,” She Thought — Until a Duke’s Carriage Broke Down at Her Gate
Chapter 3
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"No injuries, madam," he called. "But I fear we have inconvenienced your gate."Rosamond glanced at the iron gate. One side had been pushed open by the carriage, and the latch hung crookedly."My gate has survived worse," she replied. "Can the same be said of your carriage?"The gentleman looked toward the broken wheel. "Regrettably, no.""Then I suggest we concern ourselves with the living before we mourn the furniture."For one brief instant, he appeared surprised. Then the corner of his mouth moved. "An excellent principle."Rosamond approached, holding the lantern high. The coachman was kneeling beside the damaged wheel. A younger servant stood near the horses, his face pale with cold.The gentleman turned to her. "I apologize for disturbing you. We were attempting to reach Ashcombe before the weather worsened.""Then I fear you have chosen a particularly unfortunate evening.""So it would seem."Rosamond studied the wheel. The wooden spokes had splintered near the hub, and the carriage rested at an awkward angle. "That cannot be repaired tonight."The gentleman looked at her. "You are familiar with carriage wheels?""I am familiar with broken things, sir. They seldom improve merely because one stares at them with sufficient authority."The coachman made a peculiar choking sound.The gentleman glanced at him. "Something amusing, Peters?""No, Your Grace."Rosamond raised an eyebrow. So the title had not been a misunderstanding; she was standing in the snow beside a duke. A rather handsome duke, she admitted privately, although his expression suggested that handsome dukes were no less troublesome than ordinary gentlemen.She returned her attention to the practical matter before them. "There is a stable behind the cottage. Your horses can be sheltered there. The men may warm themselves in the kitchen."The gentleman hesitated. "That is exceedingly generous, but we would not wish to impose."Rosamond looked at the snow collecting on his shoulders. "Your Grace, if you remain here another quarter of an hour, I shall have three frozen gentlemen and two miserable horses outside my gate. I assure you that would be a considerably greater imposition."The younger servant stared at her. The coachman lowered his head. And the Duke laughed—not politely, not merely to acknowledge her remark, but with genuine surprise. It was a warm, unexpectedly pleasant sound.Rosamond found herself smiling."Very well," he said. "I surrender.""A wise decision.""Although I must warn you, madam, I am not accustomed to being ordered about by strangers.""Then Christmas has already brought you a new experience."He inclined his head. "Julian Ravensworth, Duke of Winterbourne.""Miss Rosamond Fairchild.""A pleasure, Miss Fairchild.""Let us reserve judgment until we have successfully brought everyone indoors."His smile deepened. "An even wiser principle."By the time the horses had been settled and the servants provided with hot food, the snow was falling so heavily that the road had vanished beneath it.