I believe I know how Lady Anastasia feels… But Benedict fought the surge of jealousy.
"It doesn't matter. She yelled and was quite embarrassed and left the room. Paisley went after her, and I just figured it would be better if we were not at the house. That way, he cannot go looking for you when he gets afraid of the woman, and she cannot spend time apologizing to me." She proceeded to tell him about her and Lord Marks' agreement.
Benedict raised an eyebrow. "My dear, are you matchmaking?"
She looked at her hands.
"You and Agatha truly should not live in the same city, you do know that?"
"I love her."
"Who?"
Katherine sighed. "Agatha. I think she's brilliant."
"Yes, but you also trip over your own feet and show your knees in public."
"Very funny." Katherine made a face and raised her voice. "But truthfully, she's lovely!"
"Keep your voice down. She'll hear you!" Benedict all but shouted.
"In the carriage? But she's at the house. She's been sleeping for an entire day!"
"She has her ways." Benedict outwardly shook. "Now, let us have some rest before I deliver you to your home."
Seconds after saying those very words, the carriage jerked to a halt. Benedict peered through the window, looking for the reason, and then a rap was heard at the door.
He opened it to find one of the footmen waiting, an anxious expression pinching his face.
"Problem?"
"Your grace, a wheel is stuck. It seems the snow is too deep, and we need to return, but it's at least a two-mile walk back up the drive, and in this weather…" The footman shuddered. "I think it best that you and the lady stay here in the safety of the carriage."
Benedict wasn't sure exactly how safe she would be in the carriage with him, but he didn't say it aloud. Instead he thought quite hard about their situation, waiting in the carriage meant they would still be freezing by the time his driver and footmen made it back. Even if they did take the horses.
His eyes scanned the road ahead of him, then back toward the house.
"There." He pointed. "What's that?"
"The hunting cabin?" the footman asked. "It's for tenants and those who like to hunt on the countryside. I dare say there may be some wood to build a fire."
"Right." Benedict hopped out of the carriage and held out his hand to Katherine. "We're to go on a little jaunt."
"A jaunt?" she repeated, teeth chattering.
"Yes, or adventure. Would you rather I use the word adventure? How about if I say it's a Christmas adventure, hmm?"
Katherine's eyes narrowed.
"No? Alright." He placed her arm within his and trudged with her through the snow. "I thought rather than freezing to death in that carriage, that we would build a fire in that lovely cabin over yonder."
"That?" she repeated, dread filling her voice. Scrunching up her face, she leaned forward and peered into the distance. "It looks haunted."
"It's nothing of the sort," he assured her. "It's merely dark. Besides, things aren't allowed to be haunted during the holiday season."
"Says who?"
"I say, and I'm a duke, so the ghosts have to listen."
"Arrogance, arrogance." She laughed but followed him to the cabin, and within minutes they were inside. He helped Katherine to a chair and searched for wood.
Fortunately, the moonlight mixed with the set of matches he had acquired the night before, while smoking cheroots with the gentlemen, helped shed enough light that he was able to locate where the wood was hiding.
Soon, he had a roaring fire, and was thankful to feel heat begin to radiate from the hearth.
He motioned for Katherine to sit near him by the fireplace.
It was a tiny hunting lodge, nothing to boast about, truly. It held one small bed in the corner, a table in the middle of the room, and two sitting chairs in front of the fire. No stove to speak of and no food.
Pity, for his stomach needed sustenance.
As if on cue, it growled.
Katherine smirked. "Hungry?"
"Only for you," he teased, though the sudden plummet in his stomach should have hinted him toward the truth of those very words.
They were alone, very alone.
He should have laughed at their circumstances; had he not, merely days ago, been planning on fully ruining the girl in hopes that she would cry off? And the day after finally giving up and realizing how deeply he cared for her, he found himself completely alone with the girl.
His conscience fought an epic inner battle as his eyes continued to rake over her. He couldn't force his gaze away from her as desire and interest swirled around his chest like a windstorm.
"When will we marry?" Katherine asked, breaking the silence.
Benedict wasn't sure what the correct answer was to be. After all, weddings were sort of a sacred ritual to women. They were cause for great joy, weeping, insanity… so he needed to tread carefully. "When would you like to marry?"
"Oh, you mean it?" She clasped her hands together in excitement allowing him to exhale with relief.
"Of course." His chest puffed, just slightly.
"Tomorrow, let's marry tomorrow."