*
Sebastian dismounted Swanwith practiced ease, his boots crunching audibly against the packed snow as he turned to help Maddie down. She was marvelously pliant in his arms, her small gasp as she slid from the saddle sending an irrational burst of pride through his chest. He steadied her as her feet touched the ground, letting his hands linger a fraction longer than necessary on her waist.
He had meant to plan out a moment to bring her to the lodge, but seeing her with Paisley, he thought better of it. What he needed was not a plan but to act.
“What is this place?” she asked, breathcurling in the frigid air as she took in the modest stone lodge nestled against the crest of a wide hill. Snow clung to its slate roof and ivy-framed windows as if nature had claimed it for her own.
“It’s an old hunting lodge. Only for private family use,” Sebastian said, taking Swan’s reins and looping them lightly around a nearby post. Stroking the mare’s neck in thanks, he added, “Thomas’s grandfather used to bring us here when we were boys. It’s full of supplies and old memories.” He turned to Maddie with a rakish smile, “And, as it turns out, perfect for us.”
He drew a ring of keys from his pocket, the metal tinkling like frost in the still air, and selected one with a worn, etched handle. “Watch this.” He inserted it into the rustic door’s lock, gave it a sharp twist, and pushed. The door creaked open, releasing a faint, woody scent mingled with stale smoke.
The room inside was small but cozy, with rough-hewn furniture bathed in the dim light coming in through the frosty windowpanes. A stone fireplace sat unused on one wall, and mounted antlers hung above it like silent sentinels. But Maddie’s gaze went immediately to a brightly painted object propped near the door.
“There’s a sled,” she murmured, taking a careful step inside and eyeing the low, gleaming contraption with unveiled skepticism.
Sebastian followed her gaze and grinned. “Technically a toboggan,” he corrected, brows lifting impishly. “Big enough for two, though.” He strode to the sled, running a hand over its simple wooden base as though assessing it.
Maddie tilted her head, eyeing him. “It’s a children’s sled.”
“All the better,” Sebastian replied, crouching beside it and pulling a stubby candle from the mantel. “Lighter, faster… and infinitely more thrilling.”
“What are you doing?” she asked as he ignited the candle briefly with a nearby flint and lit the wick before blowing it out. The flame gone, he rubbed the wax stub across the sled’s base with meticulouscare, the strokes deliberate and sharp.
“Improving speed,” he explained, tossing her a glance over his shoulder. “Because if we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly.”
Maddie smirked, arms crossed. “And by properly, you of course mean dangerously?”
“Precisely,” he said without missing a beat, giving the sled a final swipe. He straightened, his black coat pulling with the motion, and gestured toward the door. “Shall we?”
She gave him an exaggerated sigh but followed as he carried the toboggan outside, its painted surface shining gaily even in the muted light. He set it carefully at the hill’s peak, then turned to Maddie, who was eyeing the steep, snow-covered slope with cautious amusement.
“Well?” she asked, glancing between him and the sled. “Are we walking it down instead?”
Sebastian chuckled, stepping back to pat the sled invitingly. “Not a chance. Now, sit here, in front.”
“You’re assuming I trust you,” she teased but stepped forward nonetheless, even though he knew she did.
“You’re already here, aren’t you?” he countered, helping her down onto the sled’s small seat. He swung himself behind her, his taller frame neatly enclosing hers, and grasped the rope handles to steer.
Maddie stiffened slightly at the proximity as his arms bracketed her sides, their breath mingling in the chill air. “I don’t need both a rideranda blanket,” she protested, but her voice betrayed more laughter than reproach.
He leaned closer, his chin just above her shoulder, and murmured, “The speed’s better with two. Physics.”
“You’re impossible,” she said, and he could feel her smile, not merely see it. “Science?”
“Yes. And yet, here you are,” Sebastian returned as he gave the sled a resolute push off the crest of the hill.
The toboggan shot forward immediately,the wax on its base sending it gliding smoothly over the icy snow. Cold wind whipped their cheeks, tearing at Maddie’s scarf and tossing loose wisps of her hair back into his face. The rumble of the runners echoed loudly and cheerfully in the otherwise silent white landscape.
“Sebastian!” she cried, her hands clutching the sides of the sled as the hill steepened. “This is much faster than I expected.”
“Not too late to jump,” he teased, keeping a steady grip on the rope. He leaned into her ear and added, “Though I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“You’re enjoying this!” she accused, but her bubbling laughter made the words hollow.
“Thoroughly,” he admitted, grinning against the wind. “Especially since you’ve stopped listing all the reasons this was a terrible idea.”
He heard her scoff but didn’t miss the unrestrained joy in her voice as the sled darted over a rise, lifting briefly into the air before settling back down with a thud. Her laughter rang out freely now, and it was sweeter than any melody he’d ever heard. By the time they reached the bottom, their cheeks were flushed, eyes bright, and the sled finally slowed to a halt in a drift near the trees.
