Page 30 of The Betrothal

“Quad bike.”

“In this weather?” Even Ben now seemed surprised.

“As I said, anything for my patients.” He shifted closer to me, a hand coming down around my shoulder. “Of which I now have two.”

As Alex watched the gesture without a word, Ben offered Seb another little smile.

“You’ll never get back into town on a quad, not now,” Alex surmised, frowning at the blankets of snow falling outside the windows.

“Oh no, you don’t think so?”

I looked up to where Sebastian towered over me, his face painted in mock concern.

“I suppose I’ll just have to wait out the storm here then.” He shrugged and flashed me a dazzling smile.

A bark of laughter from Alex sounded anything but amused. “We don’t have the capacity for another mouth.” He shot me a small glare.

“Lies. I’ve seen the outhouse. You, sir, could house the entire orphanage for the winter.”

Alex frowned. “We don’t have enough beds.”

“I’ll bunk in. Or our new friend here can bunk in?” He wiggled his eyebrows at me and I joined Alex in frowning.

“She’s in the guest room.”

Seb spun fully to Alex, taking my body reluctantly with him where I remained under his arm.

“She?”

Alex rolled his lips, not responding.

“She, Alex?”

Alex huffed.

“You don’t know her fucking name!”

I looked between the men, replaying our interactions. They didn’t!

My hand rose to cover a tiny grin as Seb fully rounded on the two.

“You two! Alex, I’d expect nothing less, but Benji, I thought I taught you better than that?”

Ben’s brows furrowed and I immediately felt bad for him.

“We’ve not really spoken, much.” I offered Ben the olive branch, not realising that I accidentally offered it to Alex.

“I found Goldilocks asleep on the sofa first thing this morning when I arrived home, and we’ve been at the manor all afternoon.”

Seb tapped his chin with his finger, his frown never easing.

“I take that to mean she’s been here for…” He looked out of the window. “Nearing twenty-four hours?”

Alex visibly gulped.

“Killer?” Seb turned to face me. While his eyes glittered with mischief, his tone said he was nothing less than unimpressed, but he was clearly having fun torturing them.

“My name is Izzy-sabelle,” I stumbled.