Page 61

He stared at her. “I don’t recall my exact words. But it was something about siding against me.”

A snowball hit Freddie in the back. “Put her down,” Ari called, but then she squealed as Lord Finsbury retaliated.

Pippy pushed out her lips. She’d misheard him. He’d not called her “my love.” That was disheartening. But she would not let it ruin their fun.

“Ouch,” she reached for her ankle.

“Pippy, are you hurt?” Freddie asked, concern lacing his words.

She looked up at him and winked just as she threw a handful of snow in his face.

“Pippy!” he cried indignantly. “Now I have no choice but to carry you to the dungeon.”

She lifted a brow. “And just where is the dungeon, sir? Bellthorne hardly looks like a fortress with a dungeon.”

“I shall find one, never you fear,” Freddie said.

She could feel his warmth radiating off him. It was both comforting and disconcerting. “What if I refuse to go?” She crossed her arms as snowballs flew all around them.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Freddie said in low tones. A rather wicked-looking smile turned up his lips. “You leave me with little choice—” He bent forward. Was he going to kiss her? Without someone forcing him to do it?

She leaned toward him, her eyes closed, and waited. His arm slid around her back. But then, in one smooth motion, her feet left the ground, and she cried out in surprise. “Freddie, put me down.”

“To the victors go the spoils of war, my lady,” Freddie said, tromping through the snow. “I must prove to you that siding against me was unwise.”

“And how do you plan to do that? I’m certain there’s no dungeon.”

“Perhaps I’ll confine you to our room.”

“Confine me to our room?” she asked saucily. “Am I to be confined alone? Or will you be standing guard?” Her voice hitched. What was she doing? That was beyond flirting. Her mother would be mortified at the lack of propriety she was showing.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Guarding is an important position. I can hardly leave it to just anyone.”

But she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “Indeed, you are not the sort to shirk your duties.”

He shook his head, but his gaze stayed locked with hers. “No, I’m not the sort.”

“And just what does one do when confined to their room?”

“I’m certain we’ll think of something.” He winked.

Pippy looked away, but she was certain he could see her pulse hammering in her neck.

He stumbled slightly, but righted himself immediately.

She jerked her gaze back to him. “I’m able to walk, you know.” It was the last thing she wanted. But she also did not wish to see him hurt.

“You’re a tricky one. I have no confidence you’ll not try to escape,” he said softly.

She laid her head on his chest. “Then I suppose you’ll just have to keep hold of me.” His heart beat steadily beneath her ear—unlike hers that raced like the devil himself was giving chase.

“You need not worry, my dear. I never intend to let you go.”

She sighed. If only that were true.

And suddenly it struck her. This was only a game to him, while she was falling in love.

Eighteen