He devoured the cake and took a sip of his tea. “Delicious, Miss Billings. Did they include any mistletoe?”
“Oh, yes. They did.” She brought in the boxes, placed them on the table, and began to dig through them. She pulled out holly and ribbons, and finally the mistletoe.
His smile was seductive. “Where are you going to hang it?”
She knew just where, in the center of the shop between the bookshelves and her desk. Not that anyone would actually kiss her under it, but it would make for a good conversation piece. “Right there.” She pointed to the spot. “I have a ladder. If you hold it steady for me, I can put it up before you leave. But I’d rather put up the holly and velvet ribbons first.”
“As you wish.” He slapped his hands to his thighs and gave an approving nod as he took a holly bough into his hands. “I am your servant and entirely at your disposal.”
She laughed. “I’ve never had a servant before. I think you serve a higher authority than me, but I shall gladly borrow you for the afternoon.”
She expected a jovial retort, but was surprised when he suddenly turned quite serious. He reached out, seemingly about to take her hand in his. “Miss Billings, I–”
The bell on the door tinkled.
He drew his hand away.
She turned, now gripping the velvet ribbons and wondering what the vicar had been about to say to her. She’d find out later, she supposed. Who else was mad enough to be out in the middle of a blizzard? “Dr. Carmichael.” Her heart responded instantly, fluttering so that she found it difficult to catch her breath.
She hadn’t expected to see him today.
“Miss Billings,” he said with a barely perceptible nod, but his gaze was on the vicar as though he wished to slice the man in half with a broadsword. “Vicar,” he said with a more obvious nod in his direction. “What brings you here?”
“I might ask you the same question.” He rose along with Felicity to greet the doctor. His lips curved in a devilish grin and his eyebrow arched quite wickedly, giving him a not very pious appearance. “I’m tending to my flock. What’s your excuse for visiting Miss Billings?”
“Same as yours, I expect.” He shut the door behind him, but did not remove his coat or bother to shake off the small pile of snow collected on his shoulders. “Just looking after the citizens of Wellesford.”
The vicar folded his arms across his chest. “Whether they’re ill or not? That’s mighty devoted of you.”
Felicity felt decidedly uncomfortable standing between these two stubborn Scots as they stood staring at each other, arms folded across their puffed-out chests. She knew the vicar, Adam Carstairs, was originally from Inverness. It struck her suddenly as odd that she had no idea where Angus Carmichael was born and raised, for he’d never mentioned it in all the years they’d known each other. All he’d ever told her was that he had been born in Scotland. He’d never revealed where, or when he’d left, or ever spoken of his family.
In truth, it seemed now that he’d been quite secretive about himself.
How could she allow herself to fall in love with a man she knew nothing about?
The two men were still staring each other down, much like two rams about to butt heads over a ewe in heat.
Is this what these men thought of her? A love-starved spinster?
How dare they!
It was utterly humiliating.
She marched to the vicar’s side and removed the holly boughs he was holding in his grasp. “I am not one of your sheep, and I do not need tending.”
She set aside the decorations and marched to the doctor who had remained standing by the door. “Nor am I a sick, old goat.”
She placed her hands on his solid arms, ignoring the tingles that immediately shot through her fingers at the mere touch and turned him toward the door. “Both of you…out! I do not need anyone’s assistance to decorate my shop.”
“What did I do?” the vicar retorted, looking wounded. Of course, he still looked handsome as sin, and he knew it. But she was not going to be the ewe these two rams fought over because they were bored and needed a little sport.
She’d known both of these men ever since they’d arrived in Wellesford. The doctor had lived here for years. The vicar was relatively new to town, but had been here long enough to know better.
Neither one had ever singled her out as someone special. Why the sudden interest now?
Oh, heavens!
Had they placed a friendly wager between themselves, betting on who would succeed in kissing her first? Because everyone in town knew she had never been kissed. Did they believe she was desperate for it to happen before she turned thirty?
She placed her hands on her hips and frowned at the vicar. “You only came by because you noticed Dr. Carmichael stop by the other day.”
She turned to the doctor. “And why are you here today? Is it because you noticed the vicar was here and had the urge to snoop? Out! The both of you.”
She handed the vicar his cloak, scarf, and gloves, pushing him out the door as he scrambled to put them on. The doctor had never taken off his cloak so she merely tipped her chin up and pointed to the door. “Felicity,” he said softly, “I–”
“Not now, Angus. Leave me alone. I’m in no humor for the pair of you and your little-boy antics.” She was not a little ball the pair of them could kick back and forth for their amusement.
She wanted to shut the door before he saw the tears forming in her eyes but couldn’t quite manage it.
He might have looked remorseful as he watched the tears sting her eyes.
So what if he did?
She slammed the door in his face.
Let him think of her as a deranged watering pot. In truth, she must have lost her wits to kick out two of the town’s most eligible bachelors. But that was just it, they had no sincere, romantic interest in her. They’d come here out of pity for the lonely spinster and she felt humiliated. “I’ll show you,” she muttered, wiping her eyes with her sleeve and then grabbing the ladder.
She was going to hang the mistletoe herself and kiss the very next gentleman who walked into the shop…well, no… She sighed. She didn’t know what she was going to do other than put up the mistletoe and figure it all out later.
Her eyes were still watering, so she wiped them again, then propped the ladder against one of the bookshelves closest to the center of the shop. She climbed up with the mistletoe in hand. All she had to do was reach up a little, and over…and a little more…
She screamed as the ladder began to wobble and flailed helplessly to regain her balance as it began to topple.
She felt herself floating through the air for one horrid moment. Weightless, boneless. Then her arm struck the wood floor with a painful thwack, and though she’d stuck out her hand to break her fall, her head also hit the floor with a duller thwack that was infinitely more painful.
Stars burst in front of her eyes.
Then all went black.
Chapter Four
“Felicity!” Angus heard her scream, for he hadn’t moved away from her front door yet. Then he heard a terrible crash. His heart shot into his throat. He tore back into the shop, the vicar on his heels, only to find Felicity sprawled unconscious on the floor. Her arm was in a position that should not have been possible were it undamaged.