Snowflakes and Scandals

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Miss Olivia Downing hurried along the narrow lane that stretched from Todwick, a small village in South Yorkshire, to the road that led to her family home. The air was frigid even for December and her time was short. She’d just come from the apothecary with a tonic for her mother and hoped the new medicine might actually be of benefit.

Unfortunately, none of the others had.

She sighed despite her brisk pace, knowing it was silly to allow hope to rise because of a new remedy. Yet a small voice deep in her soul insisted that Christmas was a time of miracles. At least, it used to be.

Then, the whole house brimmed with excitement during the holidays as friends and family called, plans were made, fine meals were shared, and gifts were exchanged. There was always something to look forward to.

But now, with each passing year, her mother weakened, and Olivia’s world narrowed. There was no longer any talk of a Season in London for Olivia that might be the start of a family of her own. Few people stopped by, and each day was much the same as the last.

At two and twenty, she told herself that she had plenty of time, except that her elderly parents, especially her mother, needed her. That wasn’t going to change in the foreseeable future.

However, she loved them dearly and couldn’t imagine leaving them even if by some miracle someone stepped forward to help care for them. It was just that some days, she felt a bit disappointed and overwhelmed.

She adjusted the basket on her arm and quickened her pace as the lane curved to join the road. It must be the coming of Christmas that brought a certain melancholy and restlessness. Once it was over, life would return to its routine.

Even in the village, the shop windows had been festooned with gift ideas, the smells enticing, and many of those she passed spoke of relatives coming to visit and their plans for the holidays.

Yes, she decided with some relief. After managing the holiday, she’d feel more like herself and less discontented.

As she rounded the bend, what looked to be a long, dark log alongside the road caught her notice. It hadn’t been there when she’d passed earlier. Heart pounding, she slowed her pace as she approached it.

“Good heavens,” she muttered, pressing a hand to her chest to steady herself as she realized it was a man lying on his side, the black his fine wool jacket.

She moved closer and leaned over him to gain a better look, only to startle when he moved. “Sir? Are you unwell?”

He stirred again, moaning as he shifted. Obviously, something was terribly wrong.

Olivia studied him to try to determine what was the matter. His hat lay a short distance away, and his eyes were closed. A gash on his brow bled just below thick, black hair clipped short. He must have hit his head, probably on the nearby stone.

She glanced about but saw no sign of a horse or carriage, nor any servants. The man was a stranger—a well-dressed one—and she could only think he was passing through as there was little in the village to bring a gentleman such as him to the area.

“Sir?” She gently touched his shoulder.

His eyes, with long dark eyelashes, fluttered open to reveal striking blue the color of the sea in sunlight. The groggy look in them didn’t bode well. They fluttered closed again, making her wonder if anything other than his head might be harmed.

“Sir?” She better gripped the edges of her cloak to keep out the cold. This was not a good day to lie alongside the frozen road for any length of time. The weak afternoon sun did little to add warmth, and the breeze was truly chilling.

He muttered something and tried to open his eyes.

She pressed his arm, the only thing she could think of to lend support. “Did you fall?” Surely, that was the case but the details of how it might have happened escaped her.

“My horse...” he began as he opened his eyes once more and tried to focus on her.

Again, she searched the meadow and nearby woods but without success. “I’m sorry but your horse seems to be missing. Are you alone?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Your head is bleeding. Are you hurt elsewhere?” Her cheeks heated at the notion of searching his form for an additional injury.

He winced as he rolled onto his back, long legs with powerful thighs clad in black trousers stretched out before him. Broad shoulders filled out his matching jacket. Why the man didn’t have a heavier coat was beyond her.

He couldn’t have been there long; only an hour or so had passed since she’d walked this way to the village. But any time lying on the cold, hard ground could prove harmful.

“Can you rise?” she asked.

His eyes closed in response, which she took as a no.

With a sigh, she sat back on her heels and considered what could be done. The village was farther away than her home, but the two female servants her family employed couldn’t lift the man to carry him to safety.

Her best hope was to fetch Dr. Glover and ask for aid. Where they might take him to recover, she didn’t know, but if they left him here, he would surely perish.

She studied his pale face as she pondered what to do. He appeared to be a few years older than her based on his features. He was handsome for certain with a narrow nose and a clean-shaven, chiseled jaw. Dark brows held the slightest arch, softening the masculine lines of his face.

After tugging off a glove, she reached out to gently touch his cheek, concerned to find it already cold.

“Sir?” Her breath released a puff of air and made her wonder if the temperature was already dropping. The days were short this time of the year and the afternoon would soon give way to nightfall.

Again, he opened his eyes, slowly focusing on her.

“Sir, I need to bring you aid.” She glanced up and down the road, wishing by some miracle that someone would come along to help.

But wishing for such things amounted to nothing. She had to rely on herself.

As she started to rise, he grabbed her arm with surprising strength. “Don’t go.”

“I must or you will freeze out here.” Olivia patted his hand to reassure him. “You have my word that I will return with help as quickly as possible.”

“No,” he protested weakly and attempted to shift onto his elbows. “I can rise.” Yet the meager movement caused him to grimace, his face paling even further.

“Don’t move,” she ordered with a firm tone she often had to use with her mother to convince her to listen. “Rest while I fetch someone.”

He slumped back to the ground, but his eyes remained open, holding on her.

“This will keep you warm.” She untied her wool cloak and spread it over him, hoping it would help. “Stay right here, and I will return directly.”

“You’ll catch your death without it,” he objected, those vivid blue eyes watching her.

“Nonsense.” She smiled, appreciating his concern. “I will be fine, and you will, too, as soon as we get you inside. I shall return before you know it.”

Before he could argue, she rose and hurried as fast as she could toward Dr. Glover’s home. With luck, she would return within a half hour with help. That didn’t keep her from shivering even as she whispered a prayer that the man didn’t come to further harm.

Hugh Allerton, the Earl of Darnworth, had never been more grateful for the kindness of strangers. The fact that he sat in a cart with his horse tied to the rear, his great coat on, warm bricks at his feet, riding toward Lord and Lady Ballard’s estate, was a miracle of sorts.

Yes, his head pounded, he was stiff and sore from head to toe, and quite annoyed with his horse for spooking, but matters could’ve been much worse.

He ran his hand along the soft wool of the cloak on his lap, wondering about the lovely lady who had covered him with it. That she’d left the garment to help protect him from the cold touched him. The weather was unseasonably cold, and she’d only worn a gown beneath it. Only then did he realize he should’ve left it for her to find. Obviously, he wasn’t thinking clearly. He hoped she hadn’t gone far to get help.

“Thank you again for your assistance,” Hugh said to the man humming under his breath on the bench beside him as he gathered the reins to depart.

“My pleasure, sir.”

Hugh didn’t bother to correct him or mention his name or title. He still wasn’t accustomed to it anyway and such things didn’t matter under these circumstances. “I wonder if you might know a young lady who lives in the area. She intended to fetch help and return.”

“Sorry, no.” The stranger shook his head as he flicked the reins. “I am not from around these parts. Just passing through to make a delivery when I saw you.”

Hugh nodded even as he wished for the chance to thank her and return her cloak.

He’d regained his senses enough to wave down the man and rise with his assistance. The man quickly found Hugh’s horse with his belongings still tied to it in the nearby woods. When Hugh mentioned his destination, the man offered a ride for the remainder of the journey as he was going in the same direction.

“You certain you’re feeling well enough to sit beside me?” The driver glanced at him, a cautious look in his expression. “Head injuries are nothing to be trifled with. You can rest in the back if you’d prefer.”

“Yes, thank you. It hurts, but I will soon recover.” He resisted the urge to touch the bump, hoping it had stopped bleeding.

Perhaps there was more benefit to spending time in the wilds of Yorkshire than he realized. He’d never found people in London to be as kind as those he’d encountered on this journey.

The son of a banker who’d provided a modest living for his family, Hugh had spent most of his life in the city. He had followed his father into banking as everyone expected, but that was where any similarity to his sire ended.

He vowed long ago never to have the same shortcomings.

In truth, his father’s death two years ago had been somewhat of a relief. His drinking had taken a toll on his position at the bank, his reputation, and their family. His bouts of temper had bordered on cruelty at times, affecting Hugh and his two younger sisters as well as his mother. Hugh had done what he could to protect them, but that proved difficult once he’d moved into a place of his own.

Three months ago, the death of his uncle, the late Earl of Darnworth, along with his only son and heir, had forever changed Hugh’s circumstances. He hadn’t known them well and never expected to inherit.

While grateful, he was also overwhelmed by the situation, much like a fish out of water. Navigating his duties and the expectations thrust upon him had proven challenging.

Still, he was determined to learn so he might be worthy and live up to the responsibilities of the title. He had no intention of making a fool of himself.

Never mind that he could hear his father laughing in the back of his mind. He hadn’t thought Hugh would amount to anything and frequently told him as much. The memories had him shifting on the hard seat.

“Are you traveling to Ballard House for Christmas?” the stranger asked.

Hugh bit back a grimace. If not for the holiday, this journey wouldn’t have been necessary. Christmas had never been a favorite time of his as it meant his father was home with an excuse to drink even more. Hugh preferred not to celebrate it in any manner.

“No. I will return to London before that.”

His uncle’s longtime friend, Lord Ballard, had offered to serve as an advisor in whatever capacity Hugh needed. After much discussion, he suggested Hugh find a suitable bride and explained how a lady with the right connections could ease his entry into Society, making sure Hugh didn’t make a misstep.

However, the Ballards spent every Christmas at their Yorkshire estate and were hosting a house party there, which meant Hugh had to make the journey if he wanted to meet the lady that Ballard thought would suit him prior to the beginning of the Season in London. He preferred not to compete with other lords in search of a wife as he knew he would fall short.

“Unfortunate.” The man shook his head. “Christmas is special in Yorkshire.” He offered a smile. “’Tis amazing how often miracles of some sort occur here.”

Hugh didn’t need a miracle, just a wife experienced in polite society. He only wanted to meet the lady Ballard thought would do, settle his future, and return to London.

“Do you have plans for the holiday?” Hugh asked out of politeness, hoping to shift the conversation away from him.

The stranger spoke of his children and grandchildren coming to visit, his pride and excitement evident. The stories he shared of past holidays with his family and the local traditions they enjoyed helped to pass the time.

Hugh had no intention of developing sentimental feelings toward the holiday or anything else for that matter. There was no time for such emotions when he had other, weightier matters on his mind. He was approaching the title and all that came with it as a business of sorts.

A little more than an hour later, Ballard House came into view. The cart pulled up to the service entrance, and Hugh managed to climb down from the cart, noting how stiff he’d become during the cold ride.

He thanked the driver again and untied his horse even as a servant hurried out to greet them. He left it to the driver to explain that Hugh was a guest.

A flurry of activity ensued as Hugh was brought to the main entrance and warmly welcomed. He handed his things to the butler, and his hosts exclaimed over his injury, which he quickly explained.

“May I take that as well?” the butler asked, staring at the cloak Hugh held.

“No, thank you. I believe I will hold onto it,” Hugh advised. Perhaps it might serve as his lucky charm, and the remainder of the journey would take a turn for the better, even if the lady to whom it belonged remained a mystery.