She laughed. “I simply waited until she wasn’t at home to do it.”
“Ah,” he said, staring at her, bemused.
When Miss Fox smiled, she was breathtakingly lovely. How would he possibly continue to resist this insane attraction he feltfor her until the snow melted? Perhapshewas going to have to be the one to bed down in the stables.
“Have you ever had a snowball fight?” she asked.
“Of course not.”
There had been no room for frivolity in his childhood. And then, when he’d been little more than a child himself, the obligations of the dukedom had fallen upon him. He had inherited not just the title, but all the debts and duties that came along with it, and his sisters, too.
“You have no notion what you’ve been missing,” said the mad Miss Fox.
Just before she bent down, scooped up a ball of snow, and hurled it at him.
This time, she hit him directly in the center of his chest.
Dandy bit at the snowball as it disintegrated and fell to the ground, making a game of it. Then she had ahappy boutback to Miss Fox, before whirling through the snow and burying her face in it.
“I wonder how it was even possible for you to have found a hound who is every bit as outrageous as you are,” he mused.
Miss Fox’s response was to launch yet another ball of snow at him. This one faltered a bit and hit him on the lower leg.
“Another hit,” she exclaimed. “I’m currently the victor by a score of three to zero. If you hope to have a chance of winning, you’ll need to at least try, Marchingham.”
He couldn’t. Could he? No. Of course not. All the training he had received—most of which had been instilled in him with a strong birching from his father—refused to allow him to stoop so low.
“It isn’t done to fling snow at ladies.”
“I’m not a lady.” With unabashed glee, she scooped up some more snow.
And it occurred to Lion that he could stand there like an oafish lump and continue to accept her pummeling, or he could defend himself.
Hecould.
He found himself snatching up a handful of snow and molding it into a ball just in time for another of Miss Fox’s missiles to strike his left arm. He took aim and threw, hitting his target—her bodice. She laughed and their battle began in truth, Miss Fox hastening to make another snowball as Lion ducked and dodged, landing several blows to her person as she made her fair share of hits. Before long, they were both laughing, scrambling for snow, hurling it as quickly as they could. Dandy ran between them, trying to catch the snowballs in midair.
Their battle lasted for the better part of a quarter hour, until they were both covered in snow. Finally, Lion held up his empty hands. “We ought to go inside and warm up before we take a chill.”
“One more,” Miss Fox said stubbornly, revealing a snowball she’d hidden behind her back.
It hit him squarely in the hat, knocking it from his head and sending snow raining into his face. Without a second of hesitation, he formed another snowball and sent it in her direction, also striking her hat. Because her hat must have been pinned in place, the snowball fell over her face, leaving her sputtering.
“You scoundrel!”
She laughed, spitting snow.
By God, the woman was glorious.
His week of trying to see her as little as possible had only left him desperate for more of her. The effect had been the opposite of his intention. And now, here they were, covered in snow, and all he wanted was to kiss her again. To feel her smile on his ownlips. To drink in some of her sunshine and allow it to warm his wintry heart.
He was walking toward her without even realizing it.
“Forgive me,” he said as he reached her. “I didn’t intend for that to happen.”
Her eyes sparkled with mirth. “You didn’t intend to hit my hat with a snowball?”
“No, I quite meant to do that.” He removed a glove and wiped the snow from her cheeks with the backs of his fingers.
