Adrian sniffed. “Do not be ridiculous.”
“You never know, you might enjoy yourself,” she urged, her arm gently nudging his. “Boys, might you begin a snowball for His Grace? We would not want him to feel left out, would we?”
The two children ended their argument abruptly, firm friends again as they ran to obey Valerie’s request.
Adrian had no intention of joining in with the silliness that had sucked even sensible souls like Mrs. Mullens and Mr. Jarvis in, but he could not resist watching as the boys began. He had seen snowmen, of course, but he had never built one himself.
As he observed, the scars in the snow slowly made sense. The snowmen began their life as a small snowball, rolled across the snow, gathering more of the crystallized powder. Hypnotic to watch, and, though Adrian would never admit it, rather impressive.
The ball grew larger and larger, until it was almost up to David’s chest. Huffing and puffing, both boys put all of their strength into rolling it nearer to the other snowmen.
Snow-people, I suppose,Adrian mused, unable to figure out which of the snowy creations was supposed to be Valerie.
“Now you,” Valerie encouraged, another light nudge of her arm conjuring up a smoldering fire in him that would undoubtedly melt whatever snow he touched.
“I have correspondence to attend to,” he countered. “I have no gloves to wear. Indeed, I am not appropriately attired for such… larks at all. So, if you could all go elsewhere, then I?—”
“Mr. Jarvis,” Valerie interrupted, glancing across Adrian to where the butler stood, still cowed by the earlier reprimand. “Might you let His Grace borrow your gloves for a while? Indeed, you could warm yourself in the study while he wears your coat and scarf, too.”
Jarvis cleared his throat. “Happily, Miss Wightman, but I do not think His Grace wishes to partake.”
Valerie peered up at Adrian, a slight smirk upon her lips. “At the very least, will you help us to put the next ball on top? We shall not be able to lift it, if the size of the first is anything to judge by.”
To validate her point, the boys were in the midst of rolling the second ball and, already, it was up to Isaac’s waist. He was the shorter of the two children, but the snowball would still be immense.
Should I be insulted that they are making it so large? Or is it simply true to life?
Adrian frowned. He did not want to involve himself in the game of it, for it was an activity for children not grown dukes, but Valerie had asked for his help. How could he refuse her, when she was probably thinking all sorts of grim things about him? The way he had kissed her and dismissed her for a second time did not paint him as anything other than a devil.
But, perhaps, he could soften that opinion slightly if he were to do this.
Why do I need to soften it? It is better if she thinks I am a wretch.
“Please, Your Grace,” Valerie said quietly, her voice earnest. Tempting him in a manner that overwhelmed his logical thought.
Grumbling under his breath, certain that he would come to regret this, Adrian held out his hand to his butler. “Give me your gloves.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
One would think he had never met a child before.
Valerie chuckled to herself as she watched Adrian and the boys attempt to work together to build the former’s likeness. The duke spoke to the boys as if they were grown soldiers, delivering instructions with military authority… and not taking it at all well when they did not listen.
“A carrot cannot be a nose,” Adrian remarked, brow furrowed. “It is not the shape of a nose. The nose should be carved into the head snowball.”
Isaac pushed the carrot right into the face of the snowman anyway, laughing as he did it. “Itmusthave a carrot for a nose.”
“These other ones do not have carrots for noses,” Adrian protested.
David swooped in. “Because we didn’t have carrots then; we just had stones and coal. Yes! We should take out the stones and put carrots in! Come on, Isaac.”
Before Adrian could stop them, the boys ran around the odd little family of snowmen and snow-ladies and pulled out their old noses. Their giddy laughter rang out across the peaceful garden and up to the lightly-snowing heavens—the sweetest sound in all the world—as they promptly replaced the noses with carrots.
“But they do not look like people,” Adrian said, clearly exasperated. “They should be sculpted with greater detail, instead of simply stuffing twigs and vegetables into them.”
Deciding to put him out of his misery, Valerie approached, her boots crunching through the snow: a glorious addition to the music of the laughter, the chirrups of a merry robin red-breast, and the creak of heavily-laden trees.
“It is more of an interpretation of a person,” she teased. “When a child draws, they draw the idea of something. It is not supposed to be a masterpiece that will end up in a gallery. Snowmen are the same.”
