“I did not say fragile,” he returned. “I said mortal. Surely, you are not immune to frost.”
Mr. Pike coughed into his scarf, and the under-gardener pretended to be busy and removed himself. They had sensed that the tension between them was brewing more and more.
It was clear to Maria that Stephen was not going to leave her alone. She had tried her hardest to rid herself of him, but he was proving to be more stubborn than even she was.
She finally stood, and her wet hem slapped against her boot. The cold was really unbearable now, but she refused to shiver in front of him.
“If you wished to speak to me, you could have done so at breakfast,” she said, “You could have spoken to me when you signed the bills, but you chose not to. If you are here because you object to the cost….”
“I. Don’t. Care. About. The. Cost,” he said in a dangerous voice. “Do not make this about something which it is not.”
“Then what precisely do you care about?” she asked.
“That you don’t destroy your hands and your lungs to get my attention,” he said. “I do not wish for you to punish yourself like this just so I can speak to you.”
She went still.So he had figured it out.Only her chest moved for a few moments as she tried to arrange her thoughts in an orderly manner.
“So we are back to that,” she said. “I am trying to be seen, and you have elected to see me only when I do something foolish.”
“I have elected,” he said, “No. I have failed to ignore a thing that will harm you. That is the extent of my heroics. Now you are to come inside. We have already spoken about this more than needed.”
“Mr. Pike,” she called out to him, where he stood at a distance, but her eyes did not leave Stephen’s, “two more boxes in that line and leave the rest. Mulch if you can. If not, cover the holes and we will try at midday tomorrow.”
“Aye, Your Grace,” Mr. Pike said, wisely agreeing to everything. It would be foolish for him to take a side.
“Mrs. Walsh,” Stephen said in a louder voice than before. Moments later, the housekeeper appeared on the terrace as if compelled by a string. “Cloak and blankets now, please. I need you to be quick.”
“Please don’t….” Maria began.
“This is not for argument,” he said.
Mrs. Walsh hurried down the steps.
“Your Grace,” she said to Maria softly, “if you stand still, a person with a blanket can accomplish a great deal. We do not wish for you to be cold.”
Maria pressed her lips together. The housekeeper swung the heavy cloak around her shoulders and fastened it under her chin.
“I’m working,” Maria said to no one in particular. “And I do not understand why everyone needs to bother me. If I were cold, I would have realized it on my own and taken whatever measures needed to protect myself.”
“You are cold,” Stephen said. “And you are kneeling on ground that would prefer to be left alone now. You are merely just extending the argument for its own sake now.”
“I am not done,” she said, stubbornly. Between the two of them, she could not see their argument ending any time soon.
“You are done,” he said.
Something in his tone had changed now. She turned to look at him, and it seemed that he could not stand one more exchange that would satisfy neither of them.
“I am not going to let you argue yourself into a fever,” he admitted out loud. “It is time that I take matters into my own hands, which I should have done a long time ago.”
Somehow, the manner in which he said it made her shiver. It was so full of certainty that she would not know what to say in return.
He stepped forward, caught her behind the knees with one arm and behind the shoulders with the other, and lifted her. Her breath left her in a scandalized sound that would have been a laugh any other day.
“Your Grace! Put medown.”
“No,” he said, and shifted her higher until her balance was over his shoulder and his hand could keep her from sliding. “Stop kicking.”
“I will not be carried like….” she said, breathless. “Like this.”