Page 19 of Snowed In with the Runaway Bride

“I shall be fine,” she protested. “The cold makes my joints swell and ache, but I shall be fine as soon as I am warm again.” Even as she spoke, another series of shivers wracked her body, making her teeth chatter.

“Right.” Briskly, he turned her and began working the small hooks at the back of her dress despite her weak protests. Once it was loose, she turned her head to glare at him, clutching the dress to her chest, and he sighed.

“Penelope Montgomery,” he said. “I give you my word of honor as a gentleman and as an officer of His Majesty’s Royal Navy that I will do absolutely nothing against your will.”

She hesitated. Something flickered deep in her eyes that was quickly gone. “You promise?”

“I swear it.”

Her eyes searched his face before she nodded and turned her back to him again so he could finish unfastening her dress. Her skin beneath was chilly as well, and he knew he had made the right decision despite her discomfort.

His own discomfort could be ignored as well. His rude member might have a mind of its own as he undressed her, but he still controlled his actions. He could not take advantage of a lady in Penny’s state, no matter how delicious she smelled or how silky her skin was as he skimmed his fingers over her back to loosen the ties of her short stays.

As a concession to her modesty, he moved her to stand near the head of the bed while she still held up her dress to stay covered. He lifted the covers and turned his back. “Get in.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he heard her dress slither to the ground, followed by a soft thump as her stays landed atop it. The bed rustled as she got in, and he let the covers go when she tugged on them.

He turned to see her with the covers pulled up to her chin, eyes wide and wary, loosened hair trying to tumble out of its braid. He nodded reassuringly and stooped to pick up her dress, draping it across the flagstones near the hearth so it could begin to dry. After a moment’s hesitation, he picked up her stays and laid them atop the dress.

Sitting on the stool, he tugged off his boots and took a moment to look at Penny. She was huddled beneath the covers, still shivering, and he knew what he would need to do.

With a sigh, he removed his damp stockings before he stood to strip off his coat and waistcoat, spreading them on the hearth as well to dry. Leaving his shirt and breeches on, he padded to the opposite side of the bed, lifted the covers, and slid in.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was as close to a shriek as a whisper could be, and he bit back a grin.

“You need warmth more than modesty right now.”

Firmly, he rolled her to her side and then pulled her against him so her back was cushioned against his front, his arm around her waist. She wore only a thin shift, and he did his best to ignore how flimsy the barriers between their bodies really were.

He pulled the covers back up to their chins and settled himself comfortably against the pillows. The inn might be a bit shabby, but the linens were clean and the pillows were plump.

Slowly, breath-by-breath, Penny began to relax against him, her shivers easing as his body warmed and sheltered hers. The curves of her arse cradled his erection, unwanted in this moment but inevitable given her closeness and how long he had dreamed of holding her like this.

“Achoo!”

Well, perhaps not exactly like this. He smothered his grin against his arm as Penny sniffled and then relaxed again. They drowsed together, Hugo watching the flames leap in the fireplace until Penny drifted off to sleep, a tiny snore escaping her lips as her head drooped.

When he finally felt confident she was warm enough, Hugo slipped from the bed and put his boots, coat, and waistcoat back on. Perhaps the innkeeper’s wife would have soup or stew for them, or even just bread and cheese.

After a moment’s hesitation, he picked up Penny’s dress and cloak along with his greatcoat and draped them over his arm. The kitchens would be a much more efficient place to dry everything if he was already going down there.

Penny’s scent rose from her damp clothes, and he had to stop himself from raising the dress to his nose so he could inhale it.

He must control himself. He must remember that the important thing was that Penny was safe. No matter what discomfort he suffered in the next few days of sharing this tiny room, it would be worth it to know she was safe.

7

Penny woke slowly, dreading it after the strains of the previous days. Her joints ached with a deep, dull pain that made her not want to move, but at least she was no longer cold. In fact, she was quite cozy.

It took a few more moments to realize that the warmth along her back was Hugo, the weight across her waist his arm. Somehow, they had gravitated to each other in the night and lay with his front to her back like spoons in a drawer.

An unfamiliar lump pressed against her bottom. Even without her mother’s promised wedding night lecture, Penny was fairly certain what it was.

Gritting her teeth against the burning in her joints, she pulled a little away and flopped to her back. His arm still draped across her belly, he slept peacefully, long lashes edging dark rings under his eyes, as though he had not slept well for weeks before this. Despite the rough shadow of his beard growing in, his finely-cut features looked almost boyish in the pale, watery sunlight streaming through the room’s only window.

At this close range, she could see a few golden freckles dusting his nose and cheeks, only slightly darker than his sun-darkened skin, adding to the boyish impression. She wanted to reach out and brush the strands of dark hair lying across his forehead out of the way to see if there were more freckles there, but she restrained herself. The movement would likely hurt too much, anyway.

After a few moments, he stirred, and his eyes fluttered open to focus on her. For just a moment, she saw a surge of warmth there she couldn’t quite name—joy, affection, contentment? All of them?