Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

LEVI OVERTON, DUKE OF LENNOX

S he paled but didn't retract her hand as he expected.

"For every question you ask, do I earn one in return?" asked Miss Rowe, the tip of her pink tongue darting out to moisten her lips.

His gaze followed her tongue, all manner of inappropriate thoughts tumbling through his mind. Shaking his head to clear the carnal images, he asked, "There are things about me you don't know? Do you not read the society papers?"

"I do," she said, wholly unaware of the effect of that one little movement, and climbed into the sleigh. "However, I doubt your life is comprised solely of scandals and business dealings."

"More so than I care to admit." Levi chuckled, his gaze flicking to Beaufort. "But I will agree to your request since I'm curious to know what you wish to learn about me."

Collecting the reins in his right hand, he climbed onto the back of the sleigh, aligning Miss Rowe between both straps, then gave the leather a smart snap, cracking them against the horse's back. The horse tossed its head, flinging tiny pieces of ice toward them, then jerked forward, moving at a slow walk.

"I will allow you the first question, Miss Rowe." Levi maneuvered the sleigh's runners into the tracks carved by Roxburghe's sleigh.

Turning her head, she chewed on her lip, watching the snow-covered scenery slide past, and burrowed her hands under a wool blanket stretched across her lap. A light breeze dragged a few red tendrils of hair from beneath her hood, whipping them across her cheek.

Struggling not to reach out and tuck the pieces behind her ear, Levi swung a whip, encouraging his horse into a fast trot. Roxburghe, sensing the challenge, increased his horse's speed as well, and the two sleighs flew down the street with Roxburghe maintaining his lead.

"Since this adventure was your suggestion," Miss Rowe said, grabbing onto the side of the sleigh when the runner struck an uneven portion of the road, "you may take your turn before me."

He nodded and steered the sleigh toward the park, taking a wider turn than Roxburghe, who'd anticipated the corner. Behind him, Beaufort issued a low curse, the scrape of ice indicating he'd misjudged the bend.

A squeal of delight echoed from behind them.

However, before Beaufort caught up, Levi swung the whip again, and their sleigh surged forward.

"Where do you hail from?" Levi asked, setting the whip back into its holder.

The question seemed innocent enough. He didn't want to frighten her off with the first query.

"A port town south of here." She pushed the loose tendril behind her ear and twisted around, staring up at him. "Were you born in Wiltshire?"

"I was, as were the past seven generations of my family."

"Do you have siblings?" she asked, leaning closer and encouraging the faint scent of lily of the valley to float toward him.

"One brother," he replied with a grin. "However, it was my turn."

Reddening, she dropped her gaze. "I apologize, Your Grace."

"No harm's been done." He reached over and tipped her chin, raising her eyes to his. "But I will ask two questions in return."

Her lower lip caught between her teeth. "What would you like to ask?"

"First, why did you leave the port town?" He paused, debating the next question, then blurted out, "Second, what was the name of the fiancé you rejected?"

His words caused her to flinch. She pressed her lips together, jerked her chin from his grasp, and turned around, shifting her attention to the ice skaters twirling on the frozen pond.

Perhaps he'd pushed too hard.

Miss Rowe expelled a heavy sigh, then spoke. "My oldest sister's husband is from Wiltshire. I didn't learn his regiment was transferred to the north until I arrived."

"Why didn't you return to your…"

"Brother's," Miss Rowe quietly interrupted.

"Brother's home when you discovered they'd left?" Levi asked, pulling the reins to slow the horse.

She picked at a thread on the blanket. "I wanted to live without his expectations."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"I have Miss Webb and her sister to keep me company."

Levi stopped the sleigh directly behind Roxburghe's. "You didn't answer my other question."

"You asked me three, Your Grace. I answered two." She glanced back at him. "However, I will address the third since it appears to be the reason you requested an audience with me this afternoon. Don't you think it's peculiar that someone who claims to know so much about my past didn't include the name of the man I jilted?"

Pushing the blanket from her lap, she stood, twisted around, and clasped her hands in front of her waist, fixing him with a hard stare. "Wouldn't he want to reclaim his property or his bride?"

Levi's mouth popped open.

"I hadn't considered that," he said, wrapping the reins around a metal post on the sleigh and stepping off the runners. "Why do you suppose that information would be omitted?"

"A fourth question, Your Grace?"

He slapped his hand over his chest. "I swear to allow you the next three."

She inclined her head. "I can think of two reasons. Either the author wrote a falsehood and possessed no man to name, or the author wrote a truth and withheld that knowledge for personal gain."

Despite his desire to ask which situation was true, Levi swallowed his question and said, "It is your turn. What would you like to know?"

Twisting her fingers together, she asked, "Why did you ask me to accompany you this afternoon?"

"We are friends, are we not?" he said, detangling her hands and helping her from the sleigh.

He didn't release her when her feet touched the ground, enjoying—more than he wanted to admit—the feeling of her hand in his.

"You've previously established we are," she replied, lowering her voice as Beaufort and Miss Fernsby-Webb approached and pulled her hand from his. "However, we've spent a great deal of time together recently. An outsider might confuse that attention as affection."

"Have you?" The question spilled from his lips before he could stop himself.

"It is not your turn," she admonished, her soft voice wrapping around him.

The corner of his mouth crooked. "Forgive me. What is your second query?"

"Do you believe our sleigh is fast enough to best Miss Webb and her fiancé in a race?" Miss Rowe's voice echoed across the snowy grounds.

Roxburghe turned, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Is that a challenge, Miss Rowe?"

She jutted out her chin. "It is."

"Excellent!" Roxburghe handed the reins to Miss Webb and slogged toward them. "Shall we set a wager?"

Miss Rowe nodded. "One pound?—"

"Ten," Levi murmured, lingering closer to her than acceptable.

"Ten pounds," she corrected, "for the first sleigh to make it to the top of the hill and back to this point."

"Done." Roxburghe stuck out his arm and grasped Levi's hand, pumping it once. "Beaufort and Miss Fernsby-Webb will determine the winners."

"Who," Beaufort said, placing both hands on top of theirs, "we will race afterward."

"Agreed."

Each man offered an arm and escorted his corresponding lady back to their sleigh.

Reluctantly releasing Miss Rowe's hand after he helped her back into the sleigh, Levi leaned forward under the pretext of retrieving the blanket. "Have you raced before?"

"Never," she said, her eyes shining. "However, I imagine there is some strategy to winning."

"There is." Grasping the reins, he climbed on the sleigh behind her, centering her between both straps again, and placed his feet on the runners. "Whenever we turn, lean in the direction we are moving."

"I have a confession to make, Your Grace." She leaned back and tilted her head up, staring at him. "I don't want to pay the Duke of Roxburghe ten pounds."

Levi's mouth settled into a grim line. "Neither do I."

He maneuvered their sleigh in line with Roxburghe's, and they waited for Beaufort and Miss Fernsby-Webb to move their vehicle to the side of the makeshift track. Standing up, Miss Fernsby-Webb accepted Beaufort's monogrammed handkerchief and raised her hand above her head.

When the white flag came down, Levi and Roxburghe swung their whips in unison, encouraging their horses into a canter.

"Hold on, Miss Rowe," Levi murmured, snapping the whip a second time.

The sleigh surged forward, pushing Miss Rowe against the back of the seat, the upper half of her body melding into his torso. He tightened his grip on the reins, causing his arms to constrict around her.

Her breath caught as they approached the first curve.

"Remember what I said," he murmured, his mouth brushing against the shell of her ear.

She nodded, and her arms shot out, her fingers curling around both sides of the sleigh. "I'm ready, Your Grace."

"Now!" He jerked one rein, pulling the horse right.

The sleigh skidded across the icy ground, flinging bits of snow up from the runners. Levi brought both feet together on the right runner, balancing with an agility learned in his youth. The left side of the sleigh lifted an inch from the ground, then rocked back, crashing into place as Levi overtook Roxburghe.

"You're slow, old man," Levi called, placing his left foot back on the other runner and swinging the whip.

When they reached the second curve, Miss Rowe leaned far to the right without his instruction, her warm body resting against his arm. He took advantage of their closeness, inhaling the seductive scent emanating from her skin.

"Winner!" Miss Fernsby-Webb waved Beaufort's handkerchief as Levi and Miss Rowe sailed by them.

Levi yanked the reins hard, skidding to a stop, and twisted around in time to catch Roxburghe's scowl as he passed Beaufort's sleigh.

"Watch that first curve," Roxburghe said to Beaufort, stepping down from the runners. "It's slicker than it appears."

Beaufort saluted Roxburghe, then looked at Levi. "I think it's only equal, since you've driven the route once, that Miss Fernsby-Webb and I are allowed the same courtesy."

"We'll accompany you," Roxburghe said before Levi could reply and climbed back onto the sleigh. "Allow me a few moments to turn around."

He cracked the reins, urging his horse into a slow walk. When he reached the street corner, he turned right and vanished, the clopping of his horse's hooves overpowered by laughter from nearby ice skaters.

Levi leaned down and murmured, "We shall need to turn as well. You may ask your next question while we're traveling."

Pushing the hood from her head, Miss Rowe rotated in her seat. "Does my question entitle you to ask me more?"

Yes .

But he knew that wasn't the answer she hoped to hear.

"Have you tired of our game?" Levi asked, slowing the horse as they approached the street corner.

She twisted back around, facing forward, and scrunched down in the seat. "I fear you believe me to be more interesting than I actually am."

"I find you intriguing," he said, reducing their speed to a crawl.

Her eyes peeked over the back of the seat. "Why?"

"I dreamed about you last night."

"You did?" A light pink flush crept into her cheeks. "What did you dream?"

He tightened his grip on the reins. "That I kissed you."

The color drained from her face.

Not quite the reaction he anticipated.

"I know we are friends," he said, tripping over his words, "and that statement is opposite of everything I've claimed… If the subject troubles you, I won't speak any more on it."

Exhaling a deep sigh, she sat up and forced herself to hold his gaze. "You should know something. Last night, after you retired for the evening, you did kiss me."

Numbness spread through his body. "How? Why didn't you say something sooner? Lord, did I do anything inappropriate? Should I ask for your hand?"

"I'll explain in a moment. Because I didn't think you remembered. No, and absolutely not." She ticked off each response on her fingers.

He arched his eyebrows at the last answer. "You don't want to marry?"

"Not over a forgotten kiss."

"I didn't forget," he replied, turning the sleigh to the right at the next corner. "I just don't remember."

She laughed.

"Tell me I didn't enter your chamber," he said, his heart thudding loudly.

"You didn't." She paused, capturing her lower lip in her teeth. "I entered yours."

He frowned, slowing the sleigh until they barely inched across the snow. "Why were you in my chamber?"

"While preparing to retire, I heard a noise and decided to investigate." She swallowed. "I thought the sound originated from your room, and I peeked in."

Levi's eyes rounded. "It must have been the thief! You're fortunate you didn't discover her."

"Or unfortunate," she replied, holding his gaze. "I could have prevented the burglary."

"Or you could have been killed."

The thought stopped his heart. He snapped the reins, attempting to clear the macabre image from his mind.

"If you only looked into the chamber, how did I manage to kiss you?"

Her blush deepened to dark red. "The Duke of Warwick exited his chamber, and I didn't want him to see me, so I snuck in and closed the door."

"And then?" Levi prodded.

He almost retracted his question when a pained expression flashed across her face.

"You said my name." She lowered her head, whispering, "I thought you saw me, so I walked over, but you were still asleep."

Her voice trailed off.

Swallowing, he stopped the sleigh, waiting for her to raise her head before he asked, "What occurred between us, Miss Rowe?"

"You grabbed my wrist, pulled me onto the bed, and kissed me." Her words tumbled over themselves, mashing together into a garbled mess that meant disaster for his bachelorhood.

To be certain, he was already marching toward that end, but he wanted to lose the bet on his terms, not a drunken escapade that resulted in a forced marriage.

"I—"

She held up a hand, stopping him. "I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to experience the obligation currently coursing through your veins. Nothing inappropriate needs to be reported. It was merely a dream, as you said."

He snapped the reins harder than he intended, causing the horse to lurch forward with a loud neigh. Miss Rowe frowned and twisted halfway around in her seat to inspect the horse's flanks.

"Are you angry with the steed, Your Grace?" she asked, tilting her head. "I assume it cannot be due to my decision not to cost you ten thousand pounds."

He choked. "How do you know about the wager?"

"I hear things." She gestured in a non-committal direction. "Miss Fernsby-Webb is aware of the bet as well."

The overwhelming desire to smash his forehead into his palm crashed through his body. Of course, Miss Webb would tell her sister, and they, as guests of Miss Rowe's, couldn't keep that information secret from her.

"How many people know?" His voice cracked.

"Aside from six dukes?" she asked, her eyebrows shooting up.

She was teasing.

Her face softened. "Only the three of us… Miss Webb, her sister, and I."

"Two secrets to none seems quite an unbalanced relationship between us." He shortened the right rein, directing the horse around the second corner. "I can only think of one way to correct that inequity."

"You know I loathe the scent of lavender."

"I will allow that to be one of your secrets. However, I want more than just a confession for your second." He stopped the sleigh. "I want to remember our kiss."

"I can't help you with that, Your Grace."

"You can," he said, stepping off the runners and striding around the side of the sleigh. "Allow me to kiss you again."

"Again?" she squeaked.

"It was a dream, was it not?" He moved closer, placing one foot inside the sleigh. "And since I cannot recall it, and you can, I'd like to remedy that situation."

She licked her lips, her blue eyes locking on him, and nodded.

Levi leaned down, moving at a glacial pace, and pressed his mouth to hers. Fire exploded between them, and, winding his arms around her waist, he drew her against him. Desire poured through his veins, causing an uncomfortable tightening in his trousers.

This kiss was a terrible idea.

He didn't expect her to affect him so completely, and he couldn't convince his arms to release the grip molding her soft figure to his body. His tongue darted out, tasting the sweetness of her lips, then pressed forward, parting her mouth, and dipped into her warmth.

She moaned.

The sound undid him. He sank onto the seat, pulling her onto his lap. Her arms slid around his neck, the tentative movement encouraging him to deepen the kiss. His tongue slid along hers, craving the berry taste haunting his subconscious.

"Lennox!"

A faint sound broke through the passionate haze. The noise came again, and Levi, reluctantly, drew back from Miss Rowe and set her beside him, leaving them both panting as he glanced around for the origin of the distraction.

Racing toward them, snow flying from their sleigh's runners, came Mansfield and Warwick, both of their faces whiter than the ice scattering in their wake.

Allowing Miss Rowe time to make herself presentable, Levi blocked her from view with his body, collected the blanket, shook it out, and draped the wool coverlet over her lap. Then he reclaimed his position on the runners and lifted the whip just as Mansfield's sleigh reached them, stopping on the opposite side of the street.

Both men were pale and trembling.

Concern flowed through Levi. "I thought you didn't intend to participate in this afternoon's activity."

Wrapping the reins around the sled's metal post with shaking fingers, Mansfield stepped from the runners, helped Warwick climb from the seat, and then turned toward Levi.

"I convinced Warwick to travel to your home to collect his things."

"Abandoning me for Roxburghe?" Levi's eyes flicked to Warwick, who had the decency to appear shamed, then slid across the sleigh. "I don't see your trunk."

Warwick groaned, leaning against the sled and rubbing his leg. "We forsook it in the foyer."

"Why?" Levi frowned.

"Mr. Philbert chased us from your house."