Page 44 of Snowed In with the Runaway Bride

With an air of reluctance, he had drawn a small paper-wrapped package from his pocket and given it to her. She had taken it with eager hands, tearing at the paper until it lay in shreds around the small object inside.

She had picked it up with clumsy fingers. It was a small bird carved from wood—driftwood, she thought. It stood poised on a branch, wings spread as though about to take flight.

“Oh, I love it.”

He had relaxed a fraction, and she knew he had been worried about her reaction. She had run her fingertips over it, feeling the small details carved into the smooth wood.

“Where did you get it?”

Color had risen in his face. “I, er … I made it.”

“You did?”

“Well, most of it. One of the older seamen who carves helped me with the finer details.”

Tears had pricked at Penny’s eyes, and she blinked them away. It seemed almost everything made her cry during her recovery. “Thank you, Hugo.”

“You are welcome.” He sat for another moment and then had risen to his feet with a glance at her mother. “I must return to Whitehall now, and I don’t wish to tire you any more than necessary.”

Penny had nodded, already feeling her eyelids droop. Other than the pain, the fatigue had been—still was—the most frustrating part of her recovery. She had scarcely been able to sit upright for ten minutes at a time before wanting to sleep once again.

Her hand had closed around the bird, feeling the smooth edges press into her skin. Reminding her she was still alive, no matter what had happened.

And now... here they were. Together in this tiny room. He had not said he loved her, but she knew he must. His actions, not only today, but through the years they had known each other, showed he must care for her. It humbled her to think how long he must have cared, even knowing she was promised to his brother.

He finished buttoning his waistcoat and turned to smile at her where she sat up in the bed. “Your turn.”

His smile faded a little as she continued to look at him, a flush climbing his cheeks. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” she said, and stretched her arms out to him, letting the quilt drop to her waist. “Kiss me.”

He laughed and crossed to her. “Only for a moment. We need food as well.”

She nodded and reached out for him as he came to her. She did not know what they were to do. She did not know what she wanted from him going forward. But for now, she never wanted this time together to end.

She would worry about the future when the snow began to melt.

13

Hugo was afraid to speak. She must know of his feelings by now, but she showed no signs of wanting anything other than pleasure with him. Surely that meant something from a woman like Penny. She would give neither her body nor her heart lightly.

And what of her heart—her physical heart? How much danger was she truly in? She had seemed quite well during this time together despite her bouts of pain and fatigue, but he knew the attacks that would signal damage to her heart could come on suddenly after months or even years of apparent health.

He could not help but think of marriage. Penny was the only woman he had ever wanted as his wife, but even if she agreed to marry him, what would their future be? This magical daily life was precious to him, but he must leave her behind even if they married. He could not risk her falling ill in the middle of the ocean with no one but a poorly-trained ship’s surgeon to help her. She must stay in England where medical care would be readily available.

He could not think of a way around the necessity of leaving her behind when he sailed at the end of January. So, like a coward, he remained silent and tried to show her how he felt with his body.

They went outdoors for a few decorous circuits through the snow-covered garden in deference to Penny’s joints, avoiding the rest of the people at the inn. The sky was lighter today, and Hugo suspected the weather would grow warmer within a day or two. Already, men who would be able to reach their eventual destinations on foot had begun to filter out of the inn.

When the snow began to melt, this priceless time together would be over and he would need to part from Penny, one way or the other.

“Hugo?”

He turned, and a snowball splashed against his chest, showering his chin and cheeks with loose snow. Penny laughed aloud and bent to gather more snow for her next sally.

His last snowball fight had been the winter before he left for his first posting as a midshipman.

Slowly, he dusted the snow from his front and raised one eyebrow to give Penny his sternest sea captain glare. “Is that a challenge, Miss Montgomery?”