p-putting it m-mildly.’
‘Why on earth didn’t you put your coat on?’
‘What, and rob you of your b-blank-kets?’ He shook his head, a scowl darkening his features.
It might be cold in the house, but her heart felt as if it was melting. What a perfectly wonderful thing for him to do. She sniffed back a welling tear. He was such a chivalrous man.
‘B-besides,’ he added as he came back to the bed, ‘you’ll soon warm me up.’
With a growl, he burrowed under the mound of clothing, then wrapped his arms and legs round her as though she was his own personal hot-water bottle.
She couldn’t help shrieking as an ice-cold hand slid inside the bodice of her chemise.
‘Mmmhh.’ He half sighed, half groaned. ‘You feel wonderful.’
‘Ow! You don’t,’ she yelped as he ran a cold foot up her calf.
‘Is that any way to thank me for going all that way to fetch coal? Come on, Mary,’ he murmured, burying a cold nose into her neck. ‘Don’t you think I’ve earned a reward?’
He had. He definitely had. But just as she started to tell him so, his cold hands had her dissolving into giggles. He kept on searching for particularly sensitive places, tormenting her until she was begging for mercy.
He ignored her pleas, ruthlessly turning her giggles into moans of pleasure, her wriggling to escape into writhing to get closer. Pretty soon, neither of them felt the slightest bit cold. Together, they stoked up the fires of passion until it consumed them both in a blaze of wonderful completion.
* * *
It was daylight stuttering in through the broken window that brought Mary awake the next morning. With a contented sigh, she snuggled into her husband’s side and put an arm round his waist.
‘Thank God you’re awake at last,’ he said. ‘For the past half hour, at least, I’ve been so hungry I’ve even started to wonder what coal tastes like.’
‘You are awake?’ But he’d been so still. ‘You should have woken me.’
He traced one finger over her creased brow. ‘You looked so peaceful lying there. So...lovely, with the firelight flickering over your hair. I could quite happily have stayed here all day, admiring you....’
Why was he saying that, when they both knew she wasn’t the slightest bit pretty? He’d even made a point of saying it didn’t matter.
Need not be pretty.
She’d been lying there, feeling warm and contented, and grateful that marrying him had brought her into a cosy shelter from the storms of life, and with one careless remark he’d brought that horrid list to the forefront of her mind.
‘If only we had someone to bring us breakfast up here,’ he finished ruefully.
That was more like it. She preferred honest, even mundane, conversation, as long as he didn’t try to...to soft-soap her with the kind of meaningless, insincere flattery that was an insult to her intelligence.
‘Since we don’t,’ she said with a stiff smile, ‘we will just have to go down and make it ourselves.’
‘By which you mean you will conjure up something, while I am obliged to watch from the sidelines,’ he grumbled, sitting up and rummaging through their bedding until he came across a shirt. ‘You shouldn’t have to do it all,’ he said, pulling the shirt over his head, while she reached for the least crumpled item of clothing she could find. ‘I may not know my way round a kitchen, but surely I could spare you some of the heavy work? Heaving coal, or hauling water, or something?’
Once again, she was glad she’d kept her brief spurt of annoyance to herself. He might have his faults, but at least he was willing to pitch in and help, rather than leaving her to struggle alone.
And he’d certainly got the muscles for it, she reflected, watching his beautiful back flex and stretch as he thrust his arms into the sleeves.
‘If you are sure, then...thank you.’
The smile that blazed across his face had the strange effect of making her want to pull him straight back down on to the mattress.
Just because he’d smiled at her? How...weak and pathetic did that make her? Rather shaken by the strength of the feelings he could rouse, without, apparently, even trying, she pulled on her dress.
Only to feel her insides turn to mush when he took her hand as they ventured out of their room into a corridor that was so cold their breath misted in the air in great clouds. He kept it clasped firmly in his all the way to the kitchen. If she’d wanted to retrieve it, she would have had a struggle. And there didn’t seem much point in taking objection to such a harmless demonstration of affection.
Affection! No, it couldn’t be that. He’d specifically warned her not to go looking for affection.
‘What would you like me to do first?’ he asked when they reached the kitchen. ‘Fetch more coal? Or wood?’
She’d rather he stopped being so amazing, she thought crossly. So she wouldn’t be tempted to forget this was supposed to be a practical arrangement. Or start thinking that gestures such as carrying her over the threshold, or holding her hand, or saying she was adorable, were just the sort of things that went on in a love match.
‘Whichever you prefer.’ She sighed, going to the stove and kneeling to rake out the ashes. ‘The log basket does need filling,’ she admitted. The sooner she set him to work, the sooner she’d get back into a sensible frame of mind. Rather than wondering what it would be like if they were really lovers, stranded here alone. Or how romantic it would seem to have a lord chopping wood and hauling water while she sat indoors in the warm...
She shook her head. She needed to stay focused on practicalities, not drift off into stupid daydreams.
‘We will need quite a lot of water. This stove has a place where you can pour it, to heat, and then we can draw it off from this tap here, see, whenever we want some.’
‘Ingenious,’ he said. And then his stomach rumbled.
And she recalled him lying quietly, so as not to disturb her, even though he’d jested he was hungry enough to try the coal.
‘There is no rush,’ she said, ashamed of constantly getting annoyed with him when, in his own way, he was clearly doing his best. ‘There is enough wood to get the fire hot enough to put the breakfast rolls in. Why don’t you help yourself to some of that ham we had last night while I fetch them?’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes.’ She got up, dusted her knees and smiled at him. ‘No point in setting you to work on an empty stomach.’
He didn’t need telling twice before he’d got the ham out of the larder and carved himself a huge slice.
* * *
‘I had no idea,’ he said, much later, once breakfast was ready and they could both
