Miss Isabella Thaws a Frosty Lord(10)

Hadn’t asked her to dance last night out of misplaced sympathy? Or flirted with her as a lark? Well now. How interesting.

But neither had he relinquished her hands, and Isabella was more than a little dismayed to realize she didn’t want him to.

Anne recovered her surprise and spoke dryly. “Of course she could, Frost, if she could see. Isabella’s blind, you imbecile.”

“Blind?” The word was a growl. The hands surrounding hers tensed almost imperceptibly but she felt the subtle change nevertheless. Felt his strong hold skate along her arms, skitter over her legs, and somehow, flitter low about her belly. She was grateful for the new and distracting sensations; her embarrassment over falling in front of everyone paled to insignificance against the backdrop of his touch.

“Yes, blind,” Edward confirmed. “As in her pretty glimms don’t see you making an arse of yourself, old chap, but her wattles are working fine and can surely hear you being an arse. Speaking of which—Anne, I really must insist you stop calling my friend names.”

“Not when I deserve them. Hel-mmm.” He bit off the curse and shifted, releasing her at last. She stifled a mew of disappointment. Before she knew what he was about, he thrust one arm around her waist, the other beneath her legs, and hoisted her against his chest. Then he stood, bearing the entirety of her weight, without any apparent effort.

“I’ve got you,” he said with a silky tone she hadn’t heard from him before at her instinctive squirm. She hadn’t been held like this in…well, ever!

While her body happily acclimated to its new position, her lips protested automatically. “This isn’t nec—”

“It is.” He summarily cut her off, tightening his hold. “She twisted her ankle when she fell. I’ll return to the house with her and see that she’s cared for properly.”

“But—”

He hefted her to hush the instinctive objection. “Ed, Lady Redford, you may be assured now that I’ve been informed of facts I lacked previously, I will be at great pains to ensure that Isabella comes to no further harm. Begone, both of you. See to your guests and their amusement. We shall find our own for the day.”

Isabella opened her mouth to issue forth a complaint then thought better of it and snapped her lips shut. Scraped palms and smarting pride were a small price to pay for being carried in such strong arms, against such a broad chest and beneath such a tantalizingly scented neck. She inhaled and could swear her sore toe smiled in response.

Lord Frostwood’s long, powerful strides carried her quickly away from familiarity and into the realm of wonder…of possibility. Smiling toes aside, her course was set after this idyllic, magical holiday. She knew that, had even managed to resign herself to her upcoming fate. So, what would be the harm in indulging in a bit of idle flirtation during the interim? If that was even something on his mind. But somehow she had a firm inkling that it was—and Isabella had long since learned to trust her senses.

Senses that clamored a moment later when she took stock of how fiercely her body responded to his nearness, jostled about with his forceful footsteps. She raised her right arm and stretched it over his head. Her fingers fluttered then found a perch above his collar…barely touching the strands of hair at his nape.

He hadn’t said a single word. Not since capturing her person against his own as easily as he issued commands from that dimple-adorned mouth.

Isabella swallowed the knot of nervous excitement welling from her stomach to ask, “Why did you lie? Tell such a clanker about my ankle when I’d told you it was uninjured?”





Why had he lied?

Because he felt the fool, the jester, the veriest of halfwits and needed to apologize and make amends, only he knew not how to begin.

Because she was fetching and fascinating and it had been countless years since he’d been fascinated by anything.

Because when she was near, he felt anything but cold. The memories anything but painful.

“Because it was expedient,” Frost informed her.

“Expedient?” she queried softly, and he fancied he felt her fingers caressing his neck.

“We need to have your injuries tended. This seemed the simplest way.”

“Oh.”

Blast. She sounded disappointed.

“And because I wanted you to myself for the day.”

“Oh!”



“Edward? Should we let them return alone?” Anne questioned, concern prodding her conscience. “What if he—”

“Calm yourself. This is what you wanted to happen, is it not?”

“At the wedding. Not here—like this!”

“These things happen in their own time. Let it be.”