“There’s nowhere to stay,” Maggie said in a thick voice, as she fumbled to unfasten her skates. “I told you. The nearest inn is in Tolbeath, and you won’t get there tonight.”
He picked up his hat from the snow and placed it on his disheveled dark head. “Someone in Little Flitwick will take me in.”
“And ask questions. Wouldn’t it be better to stay tonight?”
Wouldn’t it be better to stay forever?
But she quailed from asking that question. Joss was attracted to her, she knew, but that didn’t mean he wanted more than a quick tumble. They’d only met four days ago, after all.
So what
exactly did she want of him, apart from more kisses? Passion that went beyond kisses? For all her brave words, she wasn’t ready to forsake the code of a lifetime and share his bed until he returned to London. Stirring, forbidden pictures of Joss’s big body moving above hers in the act of love invaded her mind. A yearning so sharp, it verged on excruciating made her blood spike.
She couldn’t be his mistress. Did that mean she awaited a proposal?
That stretched the limits of the possible. Outside the world of fairytales, handsome princes didn’t wed humble maidservants and sweep them back to their palaces for a life of happily ever after.
Even if Joss contemplated a commitment, she was agonizingly aware of the gulf stretching between them. They might come from similar backgrounds, but over the years, she’d sunk a long way down in the world. It was perfectly clear that Josiah Hale could look higher for a bride than a penniless servant.
And how did Maggie know that he cared for her beyond a fleeting interest? While all of this was deathly serious to her, he might make a habit of flirting with chance-met girls on his travels. Perhaps she was another forgettable encounter among many.
But staring deep into his green eyes, she knew that was unfair. For the sake of her reputation, he was about to undertake a difficult, dangerous journey. He understood how much hung upon his actions.
Joss Hale was a man of honor. He recoiled at the prospect of ruining a virtuous woman.
The problem for the virtuous woman was his resolve only made him more appealing.
Holding the skates by their straps, he rose to loom over her. “Maggie, I don’t trust myself if I stay.” He sounded as miserable as she did. Whatever this attraction was between them, it was significant. For him as well as her. “You’re a vicar’s daughter. Giving yourself to me goes against everything you’ve been taught.”
When he extended his hand toward her, she didn’t immediately take it. Although if she sat here much longer, the snow would soak through to her petticoats. She avoided his eyes and rubbed her gloved hands together to hide their trembling.
“I know,” she said in a low voice.
Every week in church, she spoke the words, entreating the Lord not to lead her into temptation. She’d never before understood what temptation meant. Dear heaven above, she started to understand now.
Temptation, large, intriguing, irresistible, stood there, watching her, as if he read every wicked longing in her heart. “Come back to the house.”
She blinked back more tears and struggled to tell herself that she made too much of this. What she felt for Joss must be a passing madness. He was the first man to kiss her, the first man to treat her like an attractive woman. No wonder she imagined herself in love with him.
A mere four days couldn’t change her forever. And the Margaret Carr who was her parents’ daughter would never crawl into a stranger’s bed, just because she’d discovered the power of a man’s caresses. She was made of stronger stuff than that.
Maggie lifted her chin and turned to face Joss with a smile on her face. “Thank you for a lovely afternoon—I’d forgotten how much fun skating is.”
He didn’t smile back. She suspected she hadn’t managed much of a smile at that, but she was doing her best. Instead something that looked mortifyingly like compassion softened his green gaze to jade. “It’s been a wonderful few days, Maggie. I’ll never be sorry I found you.”
Unfortunately, she could imagine being very sorry indeed. She was a prisoner granted temporary freedom, but who faced a return to grim captivity. Her chains would weigh twice as heavily, now she’d tasted the sweetness of liberty.
Oh, dear. It was bad enough Joss feeling sorry for her. She didn’t need to add her own self-pity to the mix. It was time to count her blessings, and stop crying for the moon.
She was safe and sheltered. She’d shared kisses to build her dreams upon. And now she knew how it felt to have a man shaking with desire for her. A man she wanted.
The problem was that while Joss was here, she didn’t want to waste time storing up memories. She was too greedy for every moment of his company to worry about looking ahead to when he was gone. She wanted more of the raw, passionate experience.
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
The bleak little aphorism didn’t lift her spirits. With a heart that felt weighted down with bricks, she accepted his hand and let him pull her to her feet. After gliding over the ice like a bird in flight, trudging home through the snow seemed an uninspiring way to travel.
Enough of the countrywoman remained for her to wish him on his way before darkness fell. He’d have a bad enough time reaching Little Flitwick in the remaining daylight.