But her boots, which had not quite dried after last night’s endeavors in the snow, had begun to numb her feet. She did not want to mar the experience with that unpleasant feeling, so, with a promise to the snowy world that she would soon return to make more footprints, she turned to head back inside.
She did not even make it a step before she realized the problem: she could not remember which door they had exited from. There were three that all looked alike, embedded in the thick stone walls, and she had wandered a fair way away from where they had begun the garden tour.
I am certain that my bedchamber is on the other side ofthispart of the castle,she mused, peering up at the westernmost edge of the towering structure.
With that in her mind, she chose the farthest door on the right, relieved when it opened with ease. If it was a door she wasnotsupposed to enter, it would surely be locked.
Rather than a hallway, as she had anticipated, a room lay beyond. Stark in its decoration, with bare stone floors and a bureau and chair at one end, a single bookcase at the other, it somewhat resembled a monk’s cell. She had never seen one, of course, but this was what she imagined it would look like: sparse and spartan and free of distractions.
The fire that warmed the room should have been her first indication that she was, in fact, somewhere that she was not supposed to be. Somewhere that was occupied. But her frozen feet drew her toward the blaze, and she was helpless to resist.
I shall only stay a moment,she told herself, glancing around. There was nothing and no one there, and no sound to indicate anyone’s imminent arrival.
Hastily, she unbuttoned her shoes and sat right down on the bare stone. Taking another look around, just to be sure, she peeled off her wet stockings and lifted her cold feet up to the heat.
“Oh my goodness,” she moaned in pleasure, as the warmth brought feeling back, soothing the chill away. “Oh… that is heavenly…”
She was enjoying herself so much, savoring that glorious heat, that she almost missed the faint echo of footsteps.
Someone is coming.
Her head whipped toward the far door, opposite to the one she had entered through. And as she heard the jingle of keys, she did not hesitate. Grabbing her shoes, she jumped up and darted toward the bureau, diving underneath it as a key turned in the lock.
It will be Mrs. Mullens,she told herself, breathing hard.Who else would carry the keys?Ithadsounded like more than one key jingling. A cluster of them, no doubt carried on a chatelaine.
At that thought, Valerie relaxed a little, though she did not come out from her hiding place. Rather, she decided that she would play a little trick on the housekeeper, leaping out to give her a playful fright.
Oh… oh, no…
Her stomach plummeted as, through a gap in the side of the bureau, she spied hessian boots that stopped just below the knee, and muscular thighs above, restrained by tight trousers. Unless Kate’s entire physique and fashion had changed, this wasnotthe housekeeper. Nor was it the butler, who had a much more slender frame than his master.
She watched, breath held, as the duke—for, with thighs like those, it could not be anyone else—walked over to the fireplace. There, he stooped and retrieved something from the floor.
You fool! You silly, silly thing!Dread splintered through Valerie’s chest as the gauzy fabric of her stocking hung like some strange, limp creature from the duke’s hand.
“Who is in here?” he snarled.
Valerie cringed, for there was no possible way she could stay in hiding. There was only the bureautohide beneath; it would not take him long to find her.
So, she decided to leap into the imminent reprimand. With a breath, she slowly emerged from beneath the bureau with her hands up in a gesture of surrender.
The duke glared at her with those icy blue eyes of his, every bit the sort of man who might turn into a wolf by night. If he had had fangs at that moment, she had no doubt they would have been bared.
“How dare you enter my study without permission,” he seethed, crumpling his stocking in her hand. “Did you think you might find something of value, eh?”
Valerie gulped. “I… came in through the wrong door.” She gestured to the one at the other end of the room. “My feet were cold. I thought that door would lead up to my guest chambers. I paused here for just a moment to get some feeling back into my toes, but some warmth is the only thing of value that I took.”
“Because you could not find anything else, no doubt,” he remarked.
Her eye twitched at the accusation, her guilt at being found transforming slowly into a simmering irritation. “No, because my boots were still wet after last night, and I could barely feel my toes.” She took a breath. “I apologize that I sought refuge herebut, in my defense, I did not know it was your study. It does not look as if anyone but a friar would use it.”
She stared at the stocking still held in his hand and lamented the cold touch of the stone floor against her bare feet. Perhaps, she was not in any position to be furious with him, considering her state of undress. Her father would have been horrified.
“Please, may I have my stocking back,” she mumbled, mortified. “I am sorry that I chose the wrong door; they all look so similar.”
“You should not be wandering alone in the first place,” he replied sharply. “I thought I made myself clear last night.”
Valerie put up a finger. “Ah, well, Iwasbeing escorted by Mrs. Mullens and her daughter, but when we reached the gardens, I insisted that they should return to their work. I did not want the running of your household to be disturbed by me, you see, so I was not alone until about twenty minutes ago.” She pointed toward the door. “I would still be out there, enjoying the wintry gardens, if my feet had not gone numb.”
