“I do not know much beyond his reputation from Oxford.”It was after their studies that he showed how truly vicious he is.But Sebastian didn’t want to worry her. She’d already obsessed over the duke last night. Sebastian didn’t like it. Not one bit. Not that he had any interest in challenging Paisley for Miss Madeleine, but he suspected shepossessed a bit more depth than merely angling for a duke.
Call it a hunch.
She seemed displeased with his answer, too. Had he gone too far to ask her to call him by his first name? She’d seen him in a state that only Thomas had, sick and sniffling as he wallowed in self-pity for having caught a chill.
“A-a-choo!”Not again.
“If you sneeze on me, I’ll pour this hot water right down your cravat before we even put any pine needles in it.”
Sebastian froze mid-sniff, leveling her with a dark look as he fished out his handkerchief. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Her smile widened, all sugar and mischief. “Try me.” She tilted the cup just enough to make a point, the fragrant steam curling between them.
He eyed the cup warily, then her, and arched a brow. “Would you at least clean it off after burning me?”
She tapped her finger thoughtfully against the rim of the cup, her grin turning wicked. “I suppose that depends.”
“On?”
“Physics.”
“You reference science, Miss Madeleine?” he tested the words. She couldn’t possibly think what he was… then why did she have this knowing grin?
“Yes, see, this liquid would cool and turn rather sticky. It’s sweetened wine with clove, anise, and cinnamon. So there’d hardly be any injuries and yet the stains may never come out of your bright white cravat and would never match your bright white smile again.”
Sebastian’s mouth grew dry. He wanted to speak but no words came out.
Bright smile.
Sticky sweetness.
No, no, rein yourself in.
“So it depends on physics,” Sebastian croaked like a green boy and he hated himself for it.
“And on how cooperative you are.” Her voice dripped with mock innocence, though her sparkling eyes gave her away entirely.
Sebastian sighed, smothering a laugh as he dabbed at his nose. “You’re a menace, Maddie.”
“And yet, you keep coming back for more,” she countered, taking a small, triumphant sip of her wine.
His lips twitched despite himself. Her charm was insufferable.
Sebastian had to defend.
“Back to Paisley. What was his reputation like back then?” She seemed more interested in the duke than the snowy path they set upon. In one hand, she still held the flask of steaming mulled wine that Sebastian was now imagining she’d pour over him and clean off. Dabbing him with the chemise he’d pulled off her. Then kissing his torso to make sure he was clean. And he’d most certainly return the gesture.
Sticky goodness.
No, be a gentleman! These are not Thomas’s wild horses and you’re not some stallion in the stables, he told himself.
But she held the flask so delicately, her fingers curved around the warmth, and he couldn’t help but envy the flask for the comfort it received. Foolish though it was, he found himself wishing she’d clasp him with the same gentle reverence, her touch soft and steady.
Sebastian held out his arm and she took it.
She felt nice. Her arm fit perfectly into the crook of his arm and he flexed his muscles.
Not handsome,she’d said.
