Maddie’s spine straightened instinctively, the ornate gloves on her hands suddenly feeling too tight. “Shouldn’t we wait for the others? The party isn’t complete yet.” She shot what she hoped was a disarming smile, though her discomfort made her rub her gloved palms together.
“Oh, nonsense. Time waits for no one, and neither do sleighs,” the duke said as he strode forward and climbed into the sled. First. Without offering her so much as a hand. Maddie frowned. Wasn’t the lady meant to go first?
“Come along, my lady,” Paisley called, extending a hand to her like an afterthought as he settled himself in the sled. “It’s quite comfortable.”
Maddie hesitated, her feet rooted to the snow. By all accounts, this should have been ideal. A slow ride through the snow with a respectablegentleman of status, the kind her mother would no doubt approve of. But as she stared at the duke’s perfectly polished demeanor and the outstretched hand waiting for hers, her entire body resisted. Every fiber bristled against it.
Perhaps she could make some excuse, or…
Her thoughts scattered at the sound of heavy, purposeful steps crunching across the snow. Then came the voice, low and firm, its timbre like the heat of a roaring hearth after a day in the biting cold.
“She’s with me.”
Maddie spun around, her heart leaping and flipping like a startled rabbit in a snowdrift. Sebastian stood a few paces away, his coat open as though the chill couldn’t touch him, his dark gaze fixed firmly on hers.
For a brief second, everything fell away—Ashley’s curious look, the duke’s stiff propriety, and all the bustling servants in the background. There was only him, standing there with a heat in his expression that warmed her more thoroughly than any fur-lined cloak could manage.
And then, because maddeningly it wasn’t enough that he looked this handsome, he smiled. Oh, it wasn’t an ordinary smile. No, this one blazed hot and bright, enough to melt snowbanks in its path.
“We ought to make good time,” the duke interrupted, extending his hand again. “Come on, Miss Madeleine.”
Maddie couldn’t even turn toward him. Her face was too warm, her pulse too quick.
Sebastian’s smile curled wider, the edges positively wicked now. He shifted his stance slightly, and then, with a sharp whistle that pierced the crisp morning air, the sled jerked into motion.
The duke, scrambling with both hands to hold on to his hat and his seat as the horses surged forward, shouted something less than dignified.
Maddie gasped, her gloved hand flyingup to her mouth as laughter bubbled free, unrestrained and bright. Sebastian chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. “I grew up here,” he said, a note of boyish pride in his voice. “I know all of Thomas’s horse commands. Sorry. Most of them.”
“Oh, most of them,” Maddie repeated, trying and failing to keep the grin off her face. “That poor man will barely make it to the end of the meadow.”
“Serves him right,” Sebastian said lightly, straightening his coat against the cold. He turned as one of the footmen approached, a thick scarf wrapped so tightly around his face he was barely recognizable. “Milord,” the man said, his voice muffled through the layers. “The earl has reserved the four sleds for his guests.”
Sebastian didn’t so much as blink. His grin widened, dazzling in its defiance. “How fortunate, then, that I’m not a guest here.” He turned back to Maddie, tilting his head slightly as he extended his arm. “Shall we?”
Her heart raced as she looked up at him, but this time, it wasn’t due to propriety or hesitation. There was a spark in his eyes that matched the fluttering thrill in her chest. She slipped her arm through his, her fingers lightly gripping his sleeve.
“Yes,” she said, as they began to walk. “Yes, we shall.”
Sebastian plucked the reins from a stable hand and gave the horse’s glossy neck a fond stroke. “This is Swan,” he said proudly. “She’s an Irish draft horse, the only one Thomas has. Beautiful, isn’t she?”
Maddie tilted her head, studying the mare. Swan’s coat was a pale, almost gleaming silver-gray, dotted with black spots that seemed to shimmer when the sunlight caught them. Her mane and tail were a striking contrast, jet black and thick like winter velvet. Shorter legs than the other stable horses gave her an almost compact, determined air.
“She’s stunning,” Maddie admitted, stepping closer. “I don’t think I’ve seen a horse like her before.”
Sebastian gave a boyish grin. “She’s practically made for the snow. Sturdy and strong, built for this terrain.” He took a small stool from the stable corner and rested it beside Swan. “Now, after you.”
“Oh, that’s all?” Maddie teased, her brow arching. “Just climb aboard with no experience?”
He laughed, rich and low, as he offered his hand. “I’ll help you.”
She placed her gloved fingers in his. “If I fall,” she said, only half-joking, “you’re catching me.”
“Without hesitation,” he said, his voice suddenly earnest, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.
True to his word, Sebastian’s hand was steady as he guided hers to Swan’s mane. Then his other hand pressed gently against her waist, sending warmth through her even through the thick layers of her cloak. She swung a tentative leg over with more grace than she’d expected, though Sebastian steadied her shoulder the entire time.
“See? You’re a natural,” he murmured, his hands lingering just long enough to make her breath catch.
