Mistletoe Wishes: A Regency Christmas Collection - Page 212

He grabbed her by the waist and hauled her up against him.

Maggie gave a shocked squeak, followed by a delicious sigh of surrender as his mouth crashed down onto hers. When he’d kissed her in the snow, she’d been shy and uncertain, although she’d worked out the basics with impressive speed.

This time, he made no allowance for her inexperience and plundered her mouth with all the passion she stirred in his soul. She moaned into his mouth and twined around him, holding him like she never wanted to go another day without having him near.

Joss held onto her too long. He held onto her not nearly long enough.

He wrenched away, curling his hands around her arms to keep her upright as she sagged toward him. He didn’t feel too secure on his feet himself.

“Remember that, Maggie,” he said almost savagely. “Remember that, until I come back to you.”

She stared at him with wide blue eyes and didn’t speak as he flung himself on Emilia’s back and urged the mare into the cold air.

Joss didn’t look back. He didn’t trust himself to keep going if he did.

***

For a long time, Maggie stood in the stable doorway and looked out over the snowy hills surrounding the estate. Because of the lay of the land, she couldn’t see Joss as he rode down the drive and turned onto the road across the fields, the road that would eventually take him to the outside world. That outside world would quickly claim him back as its own, so he’d forget whatever charms he imagined he’d found in Fraedale.

As she waited, the afternoon grew colder, and it started to snow. Stamping her booted feet to restore circulation, she wrapped her shawl more closely about her, but didn’t think of going inside to the warmth.

Not yet.

The wind whistled around her ears and stung her cheeks and eyes. She wasn’t crying, but with every second that passed, the sorrow lodged in her stomach expanded. Until it was the size of a boulder. Until it was the size of a mountain, ready to tumble down and crush her to nothing.

She bit her lip, without looking away from the empty hills. Already she missed Joss so much. At last, she understood the true cruelty of her situation.

She’d been lonely for years. Since she’d left her father’s vicarage after his death. Worse since her mother passed away.

But Joss’s absence was a physical pain, a crippling loss. Loneliness bit far more viciously, when it focused on one desired person.

Finally she saw what she wanted—dreaded—to see. The light was nearly gone, but against the snowy landscape of the high hills, the man leading his horse was clearly visible.

Joss must have decided to walk to save Emilia’s leg. Maggie frowned. If he ran into bad weather with a lame horse, he mightn’t reach the village.

“Dear God, keep him safe,” she whispered into the dusty, hay-scented shadows gathering around her. Her breath formed clouds in the freezing air. “Keep him safe, even if he forgets me and never comes back.”

The sound of a human voice after the long silence made Bob whicker from his stall. Smith twined around Maggie’s legs, with a plaintive miaow to say she hadn’t been fed since Easter.

Still Maggie watched as the man and his horse climbed up toward the pass and disappeared over the brow of the hill.

He’d gone. And with his leaving, all the warmth and laughter and joy—and, yes, the promise of passion—had gone, too. If Maggie’s life had felt bleak before Joss’s arrival, now it seemed unbearably barren.

She struggled to find the will to move, to put one foot in front of another. Smith complained again, and she bent to stroke the cat’s black and white head.

Duty called. Emotional devastation didn’t change that.

Feeling as though she was ninety years old and every movement hurt, she settled the animals for the night. As she crossed the yard toward the house, it started to snow. How she hoped Joss was approaching shelter.

Back in the kitchen, she slumped onto the settle in front of the roaring fire. It was nearly dinnertime, but she didn’t do anything about preparing a meal. The thought of food made her stomach curdle. Smith curled up on her lap and bore Maggie’s sobs with good grace—for a cat.

She could live without Joss. She’d only known him four days. That shouldn’t be long enough to change her whole future. A few kisses, some companionship, a compatible soul to share laughter. None of these things were necessary for survival. Although they’d been so very nice.

She’d go on. She had to.

And perhaps in time, he would come back as he promised.

But the precious intimacy they’d found during these snowy days would never return. The bond between them had been a product of their isolation.

Tags: Anna Campbell Romance
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