His expression was skeptical. “A picnic lunch in the back of a carriage?”
“In the back of a sleigh,” she corrected. “Cressmouth is made for sledding. Besides, how can you see the town if you keep yourself sequestered inside somewhere?”
His gaze was unreadable. She had asked for too much. He was going to say no.
“I hope it’s a sleigh with a roof,” he muttered.
“No roof,” she chirped. “I need to fetch my coat from my chamber.”
He proffered his elbow. “Shall I summon a maid?”
“No,” she said quickly. “It’s faster if I do it myself.”
He led her toward the stairs. “Then I shall do the same. My room is down the corridor.”
She knew. It was all she could think about. But how didheknow? Her heart pumped faster. Did he lie awake at night thinking of her doing the same at the other end of the corridor?
“I won’t be but a moment,” he promised as he left her by her door to go and fetch his own great coat and top hat.
She hurried into her room and slid on her warmest pelisse, her kid gloves, her prettiest scarf, her thickest muff, her winter bonnet. After a moment’s hesitation, she also retrieved a second scarf. One she had just finished last evening.
When she stepped out in the hall, the duke was already outside her door. She waited until they were outside in the back of the horse-drawn sleigh with a picnic basket between them before handing him the scarf.
“Put this on,” she ordered. “Cressmouth won’t seem near as cold if you are properly dressed.”
“It never seems cold when I’m near you,” he replied softly.
The back of her neck heated with pleasure.
He wound the scarf about his neck and opened the picnic basket. “Tell me absolutely everything about this ghastly village while I gorge myself on fruit and cheese and pretend that I’m listening.”
She looked over at him sharply, but his eyes were full of laughter.
“Beast,” she chastised him. She motioned for the driver to begin a sedate pace.
She and Silkridge enjoyed a leisurely picnic as they wound through the snow-covered streets. The sky was clear, the breeze pleasantly crisp. It was a glorious Cressmouth winter day, perfect for snuggling. Thank heavens there was a picnic basket between them.
Laughing with Silkridge in the back of a sleigh was far more perilous than Noelle had anticipated. She had cared for him once before. Her heart remembered the sensation like putting on warm woolen mittens. If she did not guard herself…
“And there’s the smithy,” she announced breathlessly, forcing herself to focus on the promised tour and not to give over to emotion. “The French family who owns it knows everything about blacksmithing and carriages. The Duke of Azureford swears by their craftsmanship.”
“He would,” Silkridge said. “Azureford is always nattering on about winning phaeton races.”
Noelle grinned as they rounded another corner. “All this open land belongs to Olive Harper, who breeds racehorses. She has several phenomenal stallions absolutely everyone is after, and won’t sell no matter how high an offer she receives.”
“I know,” Silkridge said. “Her family’s stud farm is infamous throughout England. If I have to sit through one more aside in the House of Lords for peers of the realm to discuss horseflesh instead of policy…”
“Do you want to listen to the tour or to give it?” she teased him. But she enjoyed hearing stories about Cressmouth’s influence on London, rather than the other way around.
He waved his hand. “Continue, continue.”
Over the next hour and a half, she managed to point out the majority of the town’s sights and people. That was, between nibbles of food, and giggles at the duke’s constant interruptions.
Everyone they passed called out cheery greetings, and although the duke made certain to mutterhumbugunder his breath each time, Noelle was increasingly convinced he did so for her benefit rather than his.
By the time they arrived at the amphitheater, being with him felt as natural as the afternoon sun. When they took a seat near the center facing the stage, it was all she could do not to nestle her head on his shoulder and curl into his warmth.
The heated glances he had been sending when he thought she didn’t notice indicated he was feeling much the same.
