“You shall have to prove it to me, my lord.” She gave him a minx’s smile, and he could not deny he was smitten.
He would do his damnedest for the rest of their lives to prove it to her, if she would but let him. “I am ever a man who appreciates a challenge.”
“Come,” Spencer said then, an unwelcome interruption. “The servants have laid out benches for us to put on our ice skates.”
For a moment, Harry had forgotten he and Lady Alexandra were not alone. It was a jarring realization. But he guided her to the benches just the same. In no time, the four of them had donned their skates and had made their trek to the lake’s frozen surface.
Spencer and Boadicea wasted no time, skating onto the ice hand in hand. With a sound of undeniable, almost childlike joy, Boadicea skated in a circle about Spencer, arms wide, beaming at him. Lady Alexandra remained rooted to the shore, however, her fingers digging into Harry’s arm.
He turned to her. “Do you not wish to skate, my lady?”
“It is not skating itself I fear,” she admitted softly, “but falling.”
“I cannot help but to think that a most rational and normal fear.” Her errant curl was back, and he once more stowed it behind her ear, allowing his gloved fingers to linger there. “But if you do not try, you will never master the art. And if you do not master the art, you will be bound to fall again and again.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Or I can simply avoid ice-covered lakes for the rest of my life.”
“Also a rational decision,” he agreed, studying her face, memorizing the contours, the shape of her freckles, the fullness of her lips. God, she was gorgeous, and interesting and so bloody smart. “Except, if you avoid ice-covered lakes, you will also forever be denied the delight of sliding across them on sharp blades.”
“Who invented such a ludicrous notion, do you suppose?” she asked, smiling at him yet again.
“Someone who lived near a frozen lake and spent the winter gazing upon its icy expanse, thinking traversing it sounded like great fun,” he suggested.
She pursed her lips. “Is it great fun? It seems to me the inventor was far more likely to have been someone who needed to cross the frozen lake for survival rather than entertainment.”
Of course his science-minded lady would think so.
“Come with me and discover the answer for yourself,” he invited, guiding her toward the edge.
Spencer and Boadicea had skated a good distance away, beyond earshot but well within sight. It was just as well, for though Harry enjoyed having Lady Alexandra alone, he could not control himself. Here, he could speak freely and yet be forced to refrain from further compromising her.
“I do not know,” she said then, the hesitancy in her voice giving him pause. “Perhaps you ought to skate without me, my lord.”
Where was the bold, daring creature who strutted about in her brother’s trousers and boots?
“Do you trust me, Danvers?” he asked her sternly, tipping up her chin and holding it in a gentle touch, forcing her to meet his gaze.
Her brilliant eyes scorched him alive. Copper lashes fluttered over them, hiding them for a moment as she searched inside herself for the answer. He waited, holding his breath, his body tensing. If she said no…
“Yes,” she said, giving him another beautiful, soft smile. “I do, Lord Harry.”
Victory flared within him, and her words made his chest swell. Absurdly, he wanted to shout out the announcement, hear it echo in the hushed stillness of the winter world.
But he did not. Instead, he slowly led her onto the ice. When her skates first made contact with the lake’s frozen skin, she wobbled, clutching at him frantically, her eyes wide with alarm.
“Oh, Lord Harry,” she protested. “Perhaps this is a bad idea. Perhaps we ought to merely sit beneath the warm furs back on the benches while the duke and duchess skate. We could have a delightful conversation and sip mulled wine instead of falling on our rumps and breaking our limbs.”
He shook his head slowly, his gaze hovering over her lips of their own accord. How he longed to feel it beneath his once more, so soft and smooth and supple and delicious. “This is a far better idea, for it means I can once more have my arms around you.”
“Oh,” she said again, sounding breathless. “Yes. There is that to commend skating, after all. Likely the only thing, I fear. Have you not wondered what would happen if the ice should break?”
There went her mind again.
“No. The lake here is not overly deep, and there are plenty of able-bodied men about to assist us should we require it.”
“But my lord—”
“Hush.” He skated backward, pulling her with him, and after a glance over his shoulder toward Spencer and Boadicea, then another for the servants on the bank to make certain no one was paying them any heed, he acted, pressing his lips over hers, firm and swift. The contact was hot, the connection between them just as passionate and overwhelming as it had been in the carriage.
