Page 71 of Never Besmirch a Wallflower: Dukes and Wallflowers

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.”