Chapter Eighteen #2
Maddie’s spine straightened instinctively, the ornate gloves on her hands suddenly feeling too tight. “Shouldn’t we wait for the others? The party isn’t complete yet.” She shot what she hoped was a disarming smile, though her discomfort made her rub her gloved palms together.
“Oh, nonsense. Time waits for no one, and neither do sleighs,” the duke said as he strode forward and climbed into the sled. First. Without offering her so much as a hand. Maddie frowned. Wasn’t the lady meant to go first?
“Come along, my lady,” Paisley called, extending a hand to her like an afterthought as he settled himself in the sled. “It’s quite comfortable.”
Maddie hesitated, her feet rooted to the snow.
By all accounts, this should have been ideal.
A slow ride through the snow with a respectable gentleman of status, the kind her mother would no doubt approve of.
But as she stared at the duke’s perfectly polished demeanor and the outstretched hand waiting for hers, her entire body resisted. Every fiber bristled against it.
Perhaps she could make some excuse, or…
Her thoughts scattered at the sound of heavy, purposeful steps crunching across the snow. Then came the voice, low and firm, its timbre like the heat of a roaring hearth after a day in the biting cold.
“She’s with me.”
Maddie spun around, her heart leaping and flipping like a startled rabbit in a snowdrift. Sebastian stood a few paces away, his coat open as though the chill couldn’t touch him, his dark gaze fixed firmly on hers.
For a brief second, everything fell away—Ashley’s curious look, the duke’s stiff propriety, and all the bustling servants in the background. There was only him, standing there with a heat in his expression that warmed her more thoroughly than any fur-lined cloak could manage.
And then, because maddeningly it wasn’t enough that he looked this handsome, he smiled. Oh, it wasn’t an ordinary smile. No, this one blazed hot and bright, enough to melt snowbanks in its path.
“We ought to make good time,” the duke interrupted, extending his hand again. “Come on, Miss Madeleine.”
Maddie couldn’t even turn toward him. Her face was too warm, her pulse too quick.
Sebastian’s smile curled wider, the edges positively wicked now. He shifted his stance slightly, and then, with a sharp whistle that pierced the crisp morning air, the sled jerked into motion.
The duke, scrambling with both hands to hold on to his hat and his seat as the horses surged forward, shouted something less than dignified.
Maddie gasped, her gloved hand flying up to her mouth as laughter bubbled free, unrestrained and bright. Sebastian chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. “I grew up here,” he said, a note of boyish pride in his voice. “I know all of Thomas’s horse commands. Sorry. Most of them.”
“Oh, most of them,” Maddie repeated, trying and failing to keep the grin off her face. “That poor man will barely make it to the end of the meadow.”
“Serves him right,” Sebastian said lightly, straightening his coat against the cold.
He turned as one of the footmen approached, a thick scarf wrapped so tightly around his face he was barely recognizable.
“Milord,” the man said, his voice muffled through the layers.
“The earl has reserved the four sleds for his guests.”
Sebastian didn’t so much as blink. His grin widened, dazzling in its defiance. “How fortunate, then, that I’m not a guest here.” He turned back to Maddie, tilting his head slightly as he extended his arm. “Shall we?”
Her heart raced as she looked up at him, but this time, it wasn’t due to propriety or hesitation. There was a spark in his eyes that matched the fluttering thrill in her chest. She slipped her arm through his, her fingers lightly gripping his sleeve.
“Yes,” she said, as they began to walk. “Yes, we shall.”
Sebastian plucked the reins from a stable hand and gave the horse’s glossy neck a fond stroke. “This is Swan,” he said proudly. “She’s an Irish draft horse, the only one Thomas has. Beautiful, isn’t she?”
Maddie tilted her head, studying the mare.
Swan’s coat was a pale, almost gleaming silver-gray, dotted with black spots that seemed to shimmer when the sunlight caught them.
Her mane and tail were a striking contrast, jet black and thick like winter velvet.
Shorter legs than the other stable horses gave her an almost compact, determined air.
“She’s stunning,” Maddie admitted, stepping closer. “I don’t think I’ve seen a horse like her before.”
Sebastian gave a boyish grin. “She’s practically made for the snow. Sturdy and strong, built for this terrain.” He took a small stool from the stable corner and rested it beside Swan. “Now, after you.”
“Oh, that’s all?” Maddie teased, her brow arching. “Just climb aboard with no experience?”
He laughed, rich and low, as he offered his hand. “I’ll help you.”
She placed her gloved fingers in his. “If I fall,” she said, only half-joking, “you’re catching me.”
“Without hesitation,” he said, his voice suddenly earnest, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.
True to his word, Sebastian’s hand was steady as he guided hers to Swan’s mane.
Then his other hand pressed gently against her waist, sending warmth through her even through the thick layers of her cloak.
She swung a tentative leg over with more grace than she’d expected, though Sebastian steadied her shoulder the entire time.
“See? You’re a natural,” he murmured, his hands lingering just long enough to make her breath catch.
“A natural at not falling off? Very high praise,” Maddie quipped, trying to mask how her pulse had begun to race.
Sebastian chuckled, and before she could fully adjust herself, he swung up behind her in one fluid motion, the movement so effortlessly athletic that Maddie couldn’t help but turn to look at him. His dark coat brushed against hers, his arms reaching around to take the reins.
“You’re very close,” she whispered, suddenly all too aware of the solid warmth of his chest against her back.
“Yes,” he said, his voice calm and sinfully deep. “I am.” And he placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder, right over her scarf. But it didn’t matter for it burned down to her skin.
A path straight into her heart.
His arm pressed lightly against her side as he steadied both her and the reins. The faint scent of leather and pine clung to him, mingling with the cool, heady freshness of the snowy morning.
“Hold here.” His gloved hands briefly covered hers, showing her where to grip the saddle for balance. The gentle weight of his palms made her head swim, her chest tightening as though her corset had suddenly shrunk.
She couldn’t decide if she wanted to sigh or bolt from the saddle entirely. “Well, you’ve certainly made me feel… secure.”
He chuckled again, the rumble of it deep in his chest. “Good. You’ll need it.”
Before she could ask what he meant, he gave a low, confident command to Swan, and the mare’s powerful legs pushed them into a steady trot. The rhythmic crunch of hooves in the snow filled the air as the stables fell behind them.
Maddie glanced over her shoulder. “We’re going in the wrong direction,” she said, though her tone lacked the conviction to stop him.
“Is that so?” Sebastian asked, his tone playfully innocent. “Wrong by whose standards?”
“By everyone else’s,” she replied. “The sleds are going that way.”
“Yes,” he said simply, guiding Swan left toward a path lined by snow-draped trees. “And we’re not.”
“And where, pray tell, are we going?”
He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear despite the chill brushing her cheeks. “Sledding.”
Maddie blinked, turning her head slightly toward him. “Sledding. Without a sled?”
A glimmer of mischief danced in his dark eyes. “There’s a sled,” he said, his lips turning upward in that maddeningly confident smile. “Where I intend to go.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, or at least she tried. The way his words drew out, low and teasing, made her lips twitch against her will. “Is this one of those things you won’t explain until we get there?”
“Precisely,” he said, clearly delighted.
“You are impossible,” Maddie muttered, but even she could hear the underlying amusement in her voice.
“Impossible?” Sebastian said, as if deeply offended. “You wound me, Miss Madeleine.”
“I doubt anyone could manage that,” she shot back.
“Anyone?” he echoed, soft and amused, his voice curling around the word like a challenge.
Her reply caught in her throat, betrayed not by his words but by the way his smile hovered just on the edge of boyish and dangerous.
Maddie turned her gaze to the snowy path ahead, hoping he didn’t notice the way her cheeks deepened in their warmth, or that her fingers gripped the saddle just a little tighter.
“Well?” Sebastian prompted after a beat, his voice bright. “Trust me?”
“You’ve left me little choice.”
“Good,” he said, sounding entirely too pleased.
And with a soft click of his tongue, Swan quickened her pace, carrying them farther into the snowy white unknown.
And she’d follow him anywhere, Swan or not, known or unknown.
*
Sebastian dismounted Swan with practiced ease, his boots crunching audibly against the packed snow as he turned to help Maddie down.
She was marvelously pliant in his arms, her small gasp as she slid from the saddle sending an irrational burst of pride through his chest. He steadied her as her feet touched the ground, letting his hands linger a fraction longer than necessary on her waist.
He had meant to plan out a moment to bring her to the lodge, but seeing her with Paisley, he thought better of it. What he needed was not a plan but to act.
“What is this place?” she asked, breath curling in the frigid air as she took in the modest stone lodge nestled against the crest of a wide hill. Snow clung to its slate roof and ivy-framed windows as if nature had claimed it for her own.