XXIII. Hunting Friends and Fiends-2

They rushed in and closed the door, muffling the strong sounds of rain outside. He threw his rifle on the small cot nearby. Hers followed his. Harold cursed under his breath as he looked down on himself. He was drenched "Downworth? Are you certain?" Alice asked and he looked up. It was a mistake. She was as drenched as he, but there were parts of her that he did not have and it took little imagination to see through the fabric. "Do you mean Brandon?" "Yes," he snapped. "I meant your Brandon." He turned around, finding a small fireplace. "But he said he would not be joining the hunt." "Well he did," he snapped again over his shoulder. "And he was with me earlier. He walked away to follow Lady Pepper. I am telling you, that suitor of yours is definitely out of the list." He meant the list Martin made which he had been making shorter with delight at each passing day. Oh, he was truly a good friend, he thought to himself. "Brandon is not a suitor. He is but a friend. He is wooing Pepper." Harold paused from making a fire to utter, "Hmm," and shrugged. "Well, you cannot blame me for thinking otherwise because he had been tailing you around." "And what of Lord Theobald?" "He returned to the party, choosing to be where the fun is as he said." He looked over his shoulder again as the fire grew stronger. "Come near the fire. You are drenched." Alice obliged, walking close to the fire. She sat on the floor and hugged her knees closer. A quiet fell between them as they watched the fire in front of them. The crackling sound of firewood and the rain outside were the only sound. Harold noticed that Alice was staring at the fire intently. "What is the matter?" "Nothing," she murmured under her breath. "I am leaving." Harold blinked. "You cannot. The rain is especially strong today." "I do not mean this cabin. I meant Wickhurst." He frowned at her. "You are cutting your season short?" She nodded and turned her head to face him. She hugged her knees closer so the side of her head rested on them. "Yes." Harold felt a sense of urgency. Something gnawed at him at the idea of Alice leaving Wickhurst. No, he corrected himself in his mind. He dreaded the idea of her leaving Wickhurst with him in it. "No." The sound of his voice was strong and certain. But what he felt was far from that. Alice scoffed. "Who are you to order me not to?" "You... you have not found a husband yet. And I am a concerned friend." She scoffed again. Was she mocking him? Because he deserved it. Who was he fooling? Them? Friends? She lifted her head from her knees and faced the fire again. Harold watched the shadows of the fire dance on her face. "I honestly do not think I would find a husband in this place. I always have. It was wrong of me to delude myself that I would." Her arms loosened around her legs and stretched. She was letting the heat dry the front of her shirt. "And you also agree that I cannot find a man here." "I never said that." "You are near to scratching off every name on Martin's list, Harold, of course you do." "It does not mean there is none here for you," he said with frustration. Alice turned her head and their eyes met. "Yes, I know." A long silence reigned as they sat there staring at each other's eyes, drowned in their own thoughts, trying to read each other, perhaps even having the silent conversation they both refuse to initiate. Alice blinked and scrambled to her feet, clearing her throat. She walked over to the window to watch the rain. "Come back to the fire, Alice. It is cold." "If you stay away from me, I would." "You mean stay away from the fire? Are you daft?" "Then I stay here." "And why, all of a sudden, do you not want to be near me?" The longer it was for her to answer, the more Harold realized that his question was utterly stupid. "You know why," she said in a low voice. Her back was stiff as she stood in front of the window. Harold gritted his teeth. His jaw clenched. Friends. Bloody hell. Who had he been fooling? ***** "Are you afraid I would get close like this?" his voice asked behind her. This time, it was coming from somewhere close. Closer, as a matter-of-fact. "Harold, don't," she stiffly warned. She had no time to play games. Alice felt cold, but as he leaned closer, breathing ragged and hot, she felt a warm shiver run up her spine. A shiver ran up her spine as his warm hands held her arms. "I am warning you, Harold, my rifle is still loaded." He planted his forehead against the back of hers, ignoring her threat. "I am going insane, Alice," he whispered harshly. Alice stepped away from his hold and whirled around to face him. "Yes, you are. What are you trying to do now?" His wet blond hair was darker and he ran his fingers through it, showing his frustration. "I do not know. I am being a fool. And I am no fool." "I understand you are being a fool, but I am yet to witness the time that you are not." He moistened his lips and sighed. His emerald green eyes looked into hers. "If only having you is that easy." "You already had me." He shook his head. "I did not mean in that way, Alice." She nodded. "You are indeed a fool." His gaze went to her lips. "Yes." "You are daft." "I know." He stepped closer. She stepped back because she needed the wall behind her.