The Winter Companion by Mimi Matthews

Author:Mimi Matthews
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2020-02-10T22:00:00+00:00

Christmas morning dawned gray and wet. Outside, the storm was still raging, the rain falling in a continuous drumbeat against the windows and roof. Clara expected that any plans for turning out Betty would be scuttled. However, when she brought Bertie down to the kitchens for his breakfast, it was to find Mr. Cross sitting at the long wooden table.

He was garbed in a heavy wool coat and trousers, his blond hair rumpled in a most attractive fashion. His gaze was fixed at the entrance to the kitchens. When he saw her, he sprang to his feet.

“Are you waiting for me?” she asked.

His face fell. “Have you changed your m-mind?”

“No, but I’d assumed, given the weather…” Clara set Bertie down with Paul and Jonesy, who were milling about nearby. “You’re not going to turn Betty out, are you? Not in this maelstrom?”

“She’s a wild pony.”

“Yes, but—”

“A Dartmoor pony. She’s used to the rain.”

“I suppose.” She hadn’t thought of it that way. “May I have a moment to drink a cup of tea? I feel I’ll need one if I’m to go out in all that.”

“I’ll make it.”

She opened her mouth to object, but Mr. Cross forestalled her.

“Sit down,” he said. “I know what I’m doing.”

Reluctantly, she sank into one of the straight-backed wooden chairs at the table.

He lit the stove and put on the kettle. A tin of tea leaves was produced from one cupboard, and two cups and saucers from another. He placed them on the table, along with a pitcher of milk.

“You’re very efficient,” she said.

“Anyone c-can make tea.” He added leaves to the pot, and when the kettle whistled, he poured in the boiling water.

Clara expected Cook to appear at any moment and scold him for making free with the tea things. But there was no sign of her, nor of any of the other servants. The curtains in the house remained drawn, and the fires unlit. Clara supposed Lady Helena had given the servants Christmas morning off.

She drank her tea, while Mr. Cross fed the dogs their breakfast.

“We’ll leave them here,” he said. “They bark when…when they get excited. Betty won’t like it.”

“I can well imagine that.” Betty wasn’t much bigger than the two mastiffs. If the pair of them were barking at her, it would make coaxing her into the paddock that much more difficult.

After finishing her tea, Clara fetched her cloak and bonnet and bundled up as best she could against the rain.

Outside, the cliff road was the muddiest she’d ever seen it. She was obliged to take Mr. Cross’s arm and cling to it all the way down, the two of them huddled beneath a sturdy umbrella.

“Good heavens!” she exclaimed, laughing, as they entered the stable. “What a tempest!” Her fingers were numb inside her gloves. She fumbled with the buttons at the neck of her cloak, struggling to open them.

Mr. Cross tossed aside his hat and coat before coming to assist her. Gently batting her hands away, he unfastened her cloak and stripped it off of her arms.

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