Chapter Eighteen #3
“It’s an old hunting lodge. Only for private family use,” Sebastian said, taking Swan’s reins and looping them lightly around a nearby post. Stroking the mare’s neck in thanks, he added, “Thomas’s grandfather used to bring us here when we were boys.
It’s full of supplies and old memories.” He turned to Maddie with a rakish smile, “And, as it turns out, perfect for us.”
He drew a ring of keys from his pocket, the metal tinkling like frost in the still air, and selected one with a worn, etched handle.
“Watch this.” He inserted it into the rustic door’s lock, gave it a sharp twist, and pushed.
The door creaked open, releasing a faint, woody scent mingled with stale smoke.
The room inside was small but cozy, with rough-hewn furniture bathed in the dim light coming in through the frosty windowpanes.
A stone fireplace sat unused on one wall, and mounted antlers hung above it like silent sentinels.
But Maddie’s gaze went immediately to a brightly painted object propped near the door.
“There’s a sled,” she murmured, taking a careful step inside and eyeing the low, gleaming contraption with unveiled skepticism.
Sebastian followed her gaze and grinned. “Technically a toboggan,” he corrected, brows lifting impishly. “Big enough for two, though.” He strode to the sled, running a hand over its simple wooden base as though assessing it.
Maddie tilted her head, eyeing him. “It’s a children’s sled.”
“All the better,” Sebastian replied, crouching beside it and pulling a stubby candle from the mantel. “Lighter, faster… and infinitely more thrilling.”
“What are you doing?” she asked as he ignited the candle briefly with a nearby flint and lit the wick before blowing it out. The flame gone, he rubbed the wax stub across the sled’s base with meticulous care, the strokes deliberate and sharp.
“Improving speed,” he explained, tossing her a glance over his shoulder. “Because if we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly.”
Maddie smirked, arms crossed. “And by properly, you of course mean dangerously?”
“Precisely,” he said without missing a beat, giving the sled a final swipe. He straightened, his black coat pulling with the motion, and gestured toward the door. “Shall we?”
She gave him an exaggerated sigh but followed as he carried the toboggan outside, its painted surface shining gaily even in the muted light. He set it carefully at the hill’s peak, then turned to Maddie, who was eyeing the steep, snow-covered slope with cautious amusement.
“Well?” she asked, glancing between him and the sled. “Are we walking it down instead?”
Sebastian chuckled, stepping back to pat the sled invitingly. “Not a chance. Now, sit here, in front.”
“You’re assuming I trust you,” she teased but stepped forward nonetheless, even though he knew she did.
“You’re already here, aren’t you?” he countered, helping her down onto the sled’s small seat. He swung himself behind her, his taller frame neatly enclosing hers, and grasped the rope handles to steer.
Maddie stiffened slightly at the proximity as his arms bracketed her sides, their breath mingling in the chill air. “I don’t need both a rider and a blanket,” she protested, but her voice betrayed more laughter than reproach.
He leaned closer, his chin just above her shoulder, and murmured, “The speed’s better with two. Physics.”
“You’re impossible,” she said, and he could feel her smile, not merely see it. “Science?”
“Yes. And yet, here you are,” Sebastian returned as he gave the sled a resolute push off the crest of the hill.
The toboggan shot forward immediately, the wax on its base sending it gliding smoothly over the icy snow.
Cold wind whipped their cheeks, tearing at Maddie’s scarf and tossing loose wisps of her hair back into his face.
The rumble of the runners echoed loudly and cheerfully in the otherwise silent white landscape.
“Sebastian!” she cried, her hands clutching the sides of the sled as the hill steepened. “This is much faster than I expected.”
“Not too late to jump,” he teased, keeping a steady grip on the rope. He leaned into her ear and added, “Though I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“You’re enjoying this!” she accused, but her bubbling laughter made the words hollow.
“Thoroughly,” he admitted, grinning against the wind. “Especially since you’ve stopped listing all the reasons this was a terrible idea.”
He heard her scoff but didn’t miss the unrestrained joy in her voice as the sled darted over a rise, lifting briefly into the air before settling back down with a thud.
Her laughter rang out freely now, and it was sweeter than any melody he’d ever heard.
By the time they reached the bottom, their cheeks were flushed, eyes bright, and the sled finally slowed to a halt in a drift near the trees.
Her laugh was a bright melody that tangled itself in his chest, making it impossible to breathe, to think, to do anything but adore her.
The way she tilted her head, just so, as if she were daring him to keep up with her wit, made his world spin.
Maddie glanced at him, her wide eyes sparkling with a mischief that sent his heart tumbling.
She owned him, utterly and completely, and every time she said his name, it wasn’t madness he felt; it was Maddie.
She was his every rational thought undone, his every certainty rewritten just to include her.
She laughed, and the sound carved through him—it almost hurt. How had he lived before this? Before her? Before her voice, before her eyes, before this kind of joy? Unfettered, simple, and impossibly real?
Sebastian had lived a life of measured steps and controlled edges. Of knowing what he should do, who he should be, how not to want too much.
And then she arrived with her honey-sweet voice and skeptical frowns and the kind of laughter that broke rules just by existing.
This… this… was not what he had expected when he started to fall for her. He hadn’t prepared for a world in which sledding through snow could feel more intimate than the waltz. But she had given him something far rarer than this.
She had given him belonging.
There was no mask here. No title, no expectation, no legacy chasing his heels. Just two people tumbling toward something remarkable.
He hadn’t asked her to come with him as part of some grand scheme. He’d acted on impulse, on the gut-level panic that Paisley might charm her out from under him. But now, watching her, flushed and grinning and beautiful beyond belief, he realized he didn’t want to win her. He wanted to deserve her.
She made him want to be the kind of man who could make a life with her. Someone who could give her more than reckless rides and almost-kisses. Someone who could hand her his heart and mean it.
And he would.
Maddie twisted to face him, still breathless. “I can’t decide if that was exhilarating or utterly reckless.”
Her radiant smile, however, left no room for doubt about her true sentiments.
Sebastian gave her a rakish grin, brushing flecks of snow from his coat. “Why not both?”
And then, without asking, he stood, extending a hand toward her. “Again?”
“Do I have a choice?” she asked cheekily.
He tilted his head, eyes sparkling. “No, not really.”
Maddie laughed, taking his hand. “Then lead on, my lord.”
And lead he did, back toward the hill, back toward the snow, back toward everything he already knew he never wanted to live without.