“Another Christmas Alone,” She Thought — Until a Duke’s Carriage Broke Down at Her Gate
Chapter 6
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Later, when the wind grew louder and the windows rattled, Rosamond brought another log for the fire.Julian rose immediately. "Allow me.""I can manage a log, Your Grace.""I have no doubt.""Then why are you standing?""Because I can also manage a log."She looked at him. He looked back. Finally, she handed it over."Very well. But I should hate to discover that a duke has been defeated by firewood.""I shall defend the honor of my rank."He knelt beside the hearth and arranged the wood with unexpected competence. Rosamond watched with interest."You have done that before.""Yes.""Frequently?""More frequently than my mother would consider appropriate."She smiled. "Your mother sounds difficult to impress.""My mother believes a gentleman ought to possess an excellent education, impeccable manners, and absolutely no practical knowledge of household work.""How unfortunate.""Indeed. I have disappointed her on several occasions.""By lighting fires?""Among other offenses."Rosamond settled into her chair. "Do tell."Julian glanced over his shoulder. "Are you inviting me to confess my failings, Miss Fairchild?""Only the entertaining ones."He finished arranging the logs and returned to his seat. "Very well. I once attempted to repair a stable door.""And?""I repaired the door.""How disappointing. I expected a disaster.""The disaster came afterward."Rosamond leaned forward. "Now you have my attention.""The door worked perfectly.""Yes?""Unfortunately, I had repaired it while standing inside the stable."She stared at him. "And?""I discovered that the new latch could only be opened from the outside."For one suspended second, Rosamond said nothing. Then she laughed so hard she had to put down her teacup.Julian watched her with an expression of amused resignation."How long were you trapped?" she asked."Two hours.""Two hours?""The stable boy had gone to the village.""And nobody noticed that the Duke of Winterbourne had disappeared?""Apparently, my absence improved the atmosphere of the household."Rosamond covered her mouth. "Oh, that is dreadful.""I agree.""Not the incident—the fact that I am laughing.""I am relieved you recognize the distinction."She laughed again. Julian found himself smiling simply because she was happy. He could not remember the last time he had enjoyed an evening so completely: there had been dinners in London, grand celebrations, elaborate entertainments, and gatherings attended by people who possessed every advantage wealth could provide; yet he had spent many of those evenings longing for an excuse to leave. Here, in a small cottage with a crooked wooden angel and a woman who laughed at his misfortunes, he felt no desire to be anywhere else. The realization unsettled him.At half past ten, Rosamond rose to check the kitchen. Julian followed with the empty cups.She turned in the doorway. "Your Grace, what are you doing?""Assisting.""With teacups?"