“Do stop. I am the one who needed the expert, since Jonathan decided a nap was more important.”
“He mentioned tending to Katie a few times last night, did he not?”
Adeline saw Margaret’s eyes gleam and her cheeks warm, “He is the greatest father a baby could ask for, isn’t he?”
“I’d say he deserves an award. Perhaps National Fathering Champion, six months running?”
“International,” Margaret clarified.
The pair laughed. How she wished she could be the one laughing with Luke. Witnessing his kindness and lighthearted nature made it that much harder to put him out of her thoughts. But she was a lady’s maid. Her place was behind or beside the family, not in it.
Alissa announced to the group, “Here we are. Make some space for each pair. We shall have forty minutes to build our snowmen and then they will be judged.”
“What is the prize?” Peter called out.
“Only you would focus on the prize,” William jested.
“It’s a surprise,” Alissa smiled at the men. “Do your best. Above all, have fun!”
All the guests were murmuring their plans to each other. Lady Antonia was on one side with William, the Duke of Malton. And she thought she recognized the Duke of Bedford–Peter, if she remembered correctly–on her other side with one of the duke’s sisters. There were too many sisters to remember all of their names, especially when her mind was clouded. Several others were paired up, working away on their snowmen.
Adeline overheard friendly banter on the best techniques for rolling the perfect snowball as she watched everyone set their personal items down in the snow to free their hands to start work. She couldn’t help noticing the men on either side appeared somewhat exasperated, but perhaps for different reasons. But Adeline kept her head down to avoid calling any attention to herself while she resumed thinking thoughts about the duke that she wanted not to think.
A few minutes into rolling the bottom snowball with Luke, Margaret stopped. “Adeline, you must take over for me. I didn’t realize my back would not be strong enough for this. I thought after six months I would be in perfect condition, alas, I am not.”
Adeline opened her mouth to protest, but Margaret steeled a glance at her. There would be no arguing over this. Margaret had already whirled on her heel–altogether too quickly for someone complaining of a back issue–and called over her shoulder, “I shall take some tea to warm up. Perhaps I’ll be back to judge the snowmen with Her Grace.”
Almost as if it were an afterthought, Adeline heard Margaret call back to the group, “And don’t forget your reticule in the snow.” No one, including Adeline, seemed to realize that Margaret’s last remark was directed at her.
As Margaret left her alone with the duke, Adeline could feel a glare from Lady Antonia burning a hole in her coat. She didn’t dare look around.
The next thing she knew, Adeline was shoulder to shoulder with Luke about to roll a giant snowball. She pulled her hands out of her pocket and was about to push on the snow when Luke asked, “You don’t have mittens?”
She avoided his gaze, “I didn’t envision myself rolling snowballs, Your Grace.”
“Here. Take my gloves. Your hands will freeze.” Before she could shake her head, he was already removing his gloves. He tucked one glove between his thighs and held the other open with two hands. As she slid her hand into it, his knuckles grazed the back of her hand and her palm. A shudder roiled through her. There was no way to avoid him and his effect on her. She had only to persevere through this competition. Afterward she could amp up her efforts to start ignoring him. Him and his endearing, magnetic, warm, and thoroughly kind self.
He opened the other glove for her, and not one whit of wit was left in her as she passed through his hands again, on either side of hers. She felt as though she were entering new territory. Territory in which a duke could knowingly pay kind attention to, if nothing else, a lady’s maid.
With the glove fitted in place, he didn’t release his hold. She darted a glance up into his eyes. He had the most puzzling look on his face. One of recognition, yet skepticism. She pulled her hand away quickly. She did not want him to recognize her.
“Shall we roll?” Adeline whispered.
“What?”
“The snowball?”
“Right,” the duke flashed a grin at her. Who needed gloves with a smile that warm? She could press her hands against his cheeks and under his jaw to find all the heat she needed. What was she thinking?Roll the snowball, Adeline.
Together, they rolled the snowball, and then two more. There were shoulder brushes as they maneuvered placing the snowballs one atop the other, and there was shared laughter about how lopsided it was. They were in the their own creative world until–
“Your Grace,” Chauncey appeared out of nowhere.
“Chauncey? What are you doing out here?”
“With your consent, I hope not too much, Your Grace. You’re needed inside. The kitchen.”
Adeline studied Chauncey, who did not so much as glance in her direction. Turning her focus to the duke, she saw bewilderment mixed with, could it be disappointment? Surely her perceptions were mistaken.
