Secluded with the Rogue

12. Twelve

Twelve

“W AIT.” STANDING IN Tremayne’s entry hall, Chrystabel tucked a strand of Creath’s bright reddish-blond hair back under her dull brown cavalier hat. Or rather, under Matthew’s dull brown cavalier hat. “There. You’re perfect.”

Creath smoothed her palms on the brown breeches Chrystabel had borrowed for her. “Do you really think I look like a lad?”

“From afar, you certainly do. And if someone looks closer, they’ll see the rest of us are strangers to the area, so they’ll have no reason to suspect you’re one of the party. Besides, we won’t be straying from Tremayne property—Lady Trentingham has assured me we’ll be able to find a perfect yule log in their woods. Let’s go.”

Watkins opened the door with a bow, and Chrystabel stepped into the chilly fresh air. It was beautiful outside. Sunshine sparkled off the light dusting of snow in the inner courtyard, and the sky was a pure blue.

She’d been so cold when they’d arrived that she hadn’t paid any attention to the layout of the castle—she’d just wanted to get inside. Now she saw the courtyard was bordered by three long connected buildings that formed a U-shape. The gatehouse with its portcullis was in the middle of the center building, with the upper floors spanning the area above it. She could tell which wing her family’s rooms were in and figured the Ashcrofts must sleep in the third wing. The obviously unfinished portion of the castle would be where Joseph’s conservatory was located.

The far end of the courtyard was open to the fields and woods. She headed toward the trees, her siblings following.

“Hold on,” Creath called from where she still stood in the entry. “Since Arabel is coming along, shouldn’t we invite Joseph, too?”

“No.” Chrystabel turned back. “If he’s with us and anyone sees us, they might connect you with him.”

“But you said we’re staying on Tremayne property. And that I look like a boy from afar.”

Chrystabel sighed. “Very well, I’ll ask him.” Before the girl could say she’d ask him herself, she hurried back inside.

Not really knowing where she was going but wanting to look like she did, she headed into the third wing, following the path she’d seen Joseph and his parents take last night when they went off to bed. Once she was hidden around a corner, she waited a minute, then another minute, and a third minute to be safe. Then she turned and retraced her steps.

“Joseph is busy,” she told Creath. “Working with his father. Let’s go.”

“All right,” Creath said, apparently happy enough to go without him as long as he’d been invited.

Chrystabel celebrated silently, glad her ploy had worked. She had a sneaking suspicion that Creath and Matthew wouldn’t fall in love with Joseph watching over their shoulders. Well, more than a sneaking suspicion, really. She was sure of it.

Joseph was far too protective of Creath.

Lifting her pretty red skirts to keep them from dragging in the snow, Chrystabel kept up a stream of happy chatter as they all tramped through the courtyard, across a field, and into the woods.

“Which is the widest tree trunk?” she asked. “Which will make the best yule log? We want it to burn through tomorrow at least.”

“We didn’t bring a saw,” Matthew pointed out. “How on earth do you expect to cut a yule log?”

“Ladies don’t saw down trees,” she shot back. “And I don’t suppose you’d like to manage it alone? We’ll choose a tree and then go fetch a few brawny servants to cut it and haul the log back.” She shivered theatrically. “My, it’s cold, isn’t it? Much colder than I expected.”

Her eye catching Matthew’s, Creath flushed and huddled into her borrowed brown cloak. “I’m warm enough.”

“Well, I’m not.” Chrystabel faked another shiver, hoping she was giving a more convincing performance than Arabel had yesterday. “Why didn’t I choose my heavier cloak? I believe I shall return to the castle for it.” She looked to her sister. “Arabel, would you be so good to as to accompany me?”

“I’d rather not?—”

“Thank you, sister,” she said, seizing her by the arm. “I’ll feel much safer with a companion.”

“My pleasure,” Arabel said without grumbling, because she truly was quite a kind sister. And she never grumbled.

“You two go on searching without us,” Chrystabel called to Matthew and Creath as she dragged Arabel off. “We won’t be gone long!”

“You’re not shivering anymore,” Arabel pointed out when they were well on their way. “And it’s not especially cold, not like it’s been these past few days. Are you sure you want to walk all the way back and then all the way out here again?”

“Yes, I’m sure I want to walk all the way back. After that, I think I will decide I’m exceedingly busy.” Which was true; they were still behind schedule.

Arabel stopped in her tracks. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m not going back out there.” Chrystabel tugged on her sister’s arm again to get her moving. There was no time to waste. “I mean I intend to leave Matthew and Creath alone in the woods so they will fall in love.”

“You’re out of your mind, Chrys. I swear, you’d feel right at home in Bedlam!” When Chrystabel walked faster, Arabel struggled to keep up with her. “Sir Leonard will be back for Creath three days from now—do you really think you can get these two to fall in love and wed before then?”

“I really think so, yes. I think they’ll take their time choosing a tree for the yule log, and then take even more time getting to know each other before they realize we aren’t returning. And then I think they will kiss, and I hope they will fall in love. Or maybe they’ll fall in love and then kiss,” she added, unsure of the order in which these things happened.

Chrystabel had yet to be kissed. To her great distress, in all of her nineteen years the opportunity had never arisen. Most of the suitable young men back in Wiltshire had left years ago to fight for King Charles. And many of the un suitable ones had gone to fight against the king, while the remainder seemed too gutless to even talk to an earl’s daughter, let alone kiss one. Which was a shame, because Chrystabel liked talking to all sorts of people, and might have liked kissing them, too, if given a chance.

From her older sisters’ accounts and her own daydreams, she just knew that kissing would feel glorious. And kissing Joseph would be the best Christmas present imaginable. She could already feel his long arms enfolding her, smell his mouthwatering fresh scent, taste his…well, as it happened, taste was one area where her imagination failed her. She wondered how Joseph would taste—besides delicious, of course. Lips as full and soft-looking as his couldn’t be anything less than delicious. She couldn’t wait to taste them.

Just like when she was small, she wanted to open her Christmas present now .

Where would it happen? Since she did feel a little cold, she decided to imagine him kissing her for the first time before a roaring fire, perhaps in the great room. Heat from the flames warmed her skin, while heat from the kiss warmed?—

“You’re awfully confident for your first day as a matchmaker,” Arabel grumbled even though she never grumbled.

Indignant at being yanked from her lovely Christmas daydream, Chrystabel raised her chin. “I ought to be confident. I’m good at this, Arabel. You’ll see.” She glanced back as they crossed the field, pleased to note that the young couple appeared to have vanished into the woods. Her plan of dressing the fugitive all in brown had worked. Creath wouldn’t be at risk.

Everything was going perfectly.

“I don’t like it.” Apparently Arabel didn’t think everything was going perfectly. “It feels wrong to desert them when we said we would return.”

“But you said nothing of the sort.” The snow crunched beneath their shoes. “I will take the blame. You’ve no reason to fret, Arabel.”

Arabel continued to fret anyway. “Matthew will be furious. They might be out there for hours, waiting for us, worrying that something might have happened to us. We have to go back!”

Instead of turning around, Chrystabel walked even faster. “I’m not going back, and I’m not letting you go back, either. There’s far too much to do. We need to finish decorating before we can make perfume for the ladies. I need you to add garlands to the grand staircase while I hang wreaths in the dining room and library.”

And she’d also take a wreath to Joseph’s conservatory, she added silently. Not that his indoor garden needed decorating, but now that she knew where it was, she was eager to pay a visit. And who could fault her for mistakenly wandering into the wrong part of the castle in the midst of her wreath-hanging fervor?

Nobody. It would look like a perfectly innocent blunder.

Would he kiss her in his conservatory?

“Chrystabel, are you even listening?” When they reached the inner courtyard, once more Arabel rudely interrupted her thoughts. “You cannot leave Matthew and Creath out there alone!”

“You think not?”

“Let me guess,” Arabel groaned. “You want me to watch you.”