A Scandalous Situation. Patricia Frances Rowell

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      She nodded and quickly followed this advice. “My goodness.” She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “I have never tasted peppers so hot. But the dish has a delightful flavor. Perhaps it is an acquired taste.”

      “One must certainly become accustomed to it.” Rob laughed. “Are you all right now?” He took a large bite of his own serving.

      “Oh, yes. I was just taken by surprise.” She tried another minute morsel. A brave lady.

      “Perhaps Burnside can mix some curry powder for you with less pepper. I don’t want my first guest to go away with a blistered mouth.”

      “Nor do I.” She quickly took another bite of bread and very precisely blotted her lips with her napkin. “I believe that is enough for now, but I would like to try it again sometime—perhaps with less pepper.”

      “You seem surprisingly adventurous. You look so…so fragile.”

      She stared pensively at the fire. “Perhaps I would like adventure. Fragility can become very tiresome.”

      Rob pondered that response for a moment. The lady was definitely involved in an adventure now, one from which she would not emerge unscathed. “Miss Kethley, I am afraid that this particular adventure is going to be very damaging to your reputation. I think we should discuss—”

      She turned her clear violet gaze on him. “Lord Duncan, I assure you that damage to my reputation is not a problem at all.”

      And try as he might, he could not persuade her to say one more word on the subject.

      The storm rampaged through the night and into the morning, and although Iantha had a pleasant conversation with Lord Duncan over breakfast and spent some time with him in the library examining his books, she became aware of a growing tension in herself. The need to get away. To get out of the place.

      To put some distance between herself and his lordship’s overwhelmingly masculine presence.

      He had done nothing—nothing at all—to cause her alarm. He observed every courtesy. He took pains to provide her every comfort. He did not touch her. Yet he seemed to fill up the room with his big body and his big voice. And…and with something else. A robust energy emanated from him, taking form in his ready grin and his hearty laughter. His enthusiasm for his library. His wholehearted enjoyment of life.

      Try as she might, she could not shut his lordship out.

      She did so very successfully with most people. Her barriers, built of intellectual conversation and control of her emotions, were well constructed and well maintained. She kept even people whom she liked outside of them. But with Lord Duncan… Even while discussing old Hindu manuscripts and his study of the various languages in which he engaged with Vijaya, she found herself more aware of the man than of the subject.

      She needed to go home.

      Shortly after they had eaten a light nuncheon, the wind died and the clouds rolled themselves up behind the mountains, leaving a blinding brightness in their wake. Iantha peered out a window.

      “At last! Now I can return to my parents and relieve you of an unwanted guest, Lord Duncan.”

      His lordship strolled to join her at the casement. “Never unwanted, Miss Kethley.”

      Iantha smiled. “You are very gallant, my lord, but at the very best, I am an uninvited guest. Will you provide me with a horse? I fear I cannot leave the same way I arrived.”

      “I fear you cannot leave at all, Miss Kethley. At least, not for a while. Nay, wait.” When she would have protested, he held up a restraining hand. “Just because the storm has abated does not mean the roads are open.”

      “But I must get home. My poor parents—”

      “I am sure they are extremely worried. But that will not clear the drifts. After a blizzard of this magnitude, they will be frozen in place.”

      Iantha’s heart dropped to her slippers. She must go. He couldn’t make her stay. He wouldn’t. She drew herself up and bestowed a frosty glance on his lordship. “Nonetheless, I must attempt it. May I make use of a horse or not?”

      His lordship snorted. “Something tells me that if I refuse, you will set out walking. Very well, Miss Kethley. Please get your coat and meet me in the entrance hall.”

      Iantha raced up the stairs and struggled back into her own clothes and fur coat. In a very few minutes she rejoined Lord Duncan in the hall. He had donned his greatcoat and hat. Without a word he led her back into the old part of the castle.

      But instead of continuing down to the stables, he turned and started up a spiral staircase of worn stone. Iantha stopped, scowling, and gazed up the aged steps. “My lord, where are you going?”

      He returned her scowl. “To the battlements, Miss Kethley.”

      Panic began in Iantha’s breast. “No! I am not going to the battlements. I am going home. With you or without you!”

      Before she could dart through the old castle’s portal, he jumped down the last few steps and seized her arm. “Miss Kethley, you try my patience. If you are determined to leave, at least first look at the situation you face. Then if you still believe you can travel, I will accompany you.”

      He turned and towed the unwilling Iantha up the first few stairs. After several steps she yanked her arm out of his grasp, glaring at him. “Very well. If you insist, I will go up.”

      His lordship said nothing, but moved aside, gesturing for her to precede him. The old castle was bitterly cold. Iantha wished she might thrust her gloved hands into the pockets of her heavy coat, but had to use them to hold up her skirts. Her nose threatened to drip. She could only sniff as unobtrusively as possible. Finally they reached a heavy wooden door. Lord Duncan reached past her and pulled it open.

      Iantha stepped out into a dazzling landscape. When her eyes had adjusted from the dark of the old keep, she gazed about her at a sparkling fairyland. Against the dark clouds, snow covered all but the highest wind-scoured peaks. From many of them, where springs near the summit had frozen in their leap into the valley, diamond cascades of ice glistened. Everywhere the sun struck the hills at an angle, rainbows sprang up.

      Iantha stood transfixed.

      Lord Duncan stood beside her silently, apparently captive to the beauty of the sight himself. Together they began to walk the battlements, where the parapets had shielded the path from snow, pausing occasionally to appreciate a particularly breathtaking view. When they had traversed three sides of the castle, they stopped at the foot of another stone staircase. Less than three feet wide, it rose in dizzying flight from the battlements to the top of the tallest tower. Neither handrail nor barricade protected the climber. The drop fell sheer into the valley. Today snow and ice festooned the steps.

      Iantha moved toward them. “Oh, look! How beautiful. What is up there?”

      His lordship seemed a bit alarmed. “Only the lookout tower. But please do not attempt the stairs, Miss Kethley. They are not safe at any time, let alone when covered in ice.”

      “Yes, I can see that, but perhaps one day I may climb them. I have a very good head for heights.”

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