Page 54 of A Naughty Proposal for His Winter Countess
“If he is, then he does not know you and is not worthy of you,” Lily replied, while she smoothed her skirts. “But I’d say his activities from last night may differ.”
Warmth flew to her cheeks at the memories of last night and how quickly she had unraveled under Daniel’s masterful touch.
“He promised me another trip to the Gardens,” Harriet said as she donned the jacket and tucked the gloves into the pockets. “And to the famous Cascade. I wonder how much more marvelous that will be.”
“You won’t get anywhere if you stay here and woolgather,” Lily replied, then rested her hand on Harriet’s shoulder. “Don’t be afraid; I think he would take to you even if you wore a gunny sack.”
Laughing at the image, Harriet nodded and left the room. It wasn’t until she took the steps that her chest fluttered with nervousness. Daniel was turned away from her, but she knew that soon his gaze would land on her.
When he did, and his eyebrows shot up, she only kept her head high. Harriet could only think of what was going through his mind at seeing her in the curious mash-up of men and women’s wear: tan breeches, a cambric shirt with a high-standing collar, and Hessian boots.
She stopped a step above him, and Daniel, tucking his crop under his arm, came to her. As she was a few inches above him, they were on the same height, and she could see the amusement clearly in his eyes.
“Why did I not expect anything else?” he said with a soft laugh. He stepped away, “You’re…strangely enchanting in men’s clothes.”
Relief washed through her like a wave, “Thank you. I was afraid you’d be opposed to seeing me dressed this way.”
He then turned to Lily and bowed his head, “Miss Matthews, pleased to see you again.”
“As am I, My Lord,” Lily smiled as she passed them with a sly, knowing look. “Be good, you two.”
The implicit meaning didn’t pass Daniel, “And why would I be anything but?”
Lily’s lips curved, “Those books she loves and quoted My Lord…I am the one who gave them to her,” looking over to Harriet, she said, “I’ll be in the music room, Dear. Enjoy yourselves.”
With that, she moved off, and Daniel turned back to Harriet, “I would have never guessed your wicked wiles stemmed from such an innocent-looking Miss. It true then; looks are deceiving.”
Looping her arm with his, Harriet laughed, “She’s a true sweetheart, Daniel, but with a fascinating pastime.”
Snorting, he said, “I’ve received our costumes for tonight as well. They were sent over to my home last night. I handed your package to your maid.”
“I received it, thank you,” Harriet said as they passed through a door to the stables.
The walkways were swept clean of snow, but the grounds were laden with white sheets. To the far side of the stables were trails that led into to forest beyond. They entered the stables and, while stepping carefully over the straw-covered floor, greeted the groom and requested a dappled gray for Daniel and her horse, a bay stallion.
Tugging her gloves on, Harriet expertly mounted the saddle and grasped the reins. Daniel was already seated, and with a look over her shoulder, she said, “The trails are ready for us. They’re wide enough that we can ride side-by-side.”
Inclining his head, he complied, “Lead on.”
The trails were lined with trees that were more spindles and ice needles than wood and twig. It was enchanting in a strange way as the weak silver sunlight cast a kaleidoscope of colors when they passed through the ice at the right angle.
“I know your childhood was not the best,” Harriet began. “But did you have any Christmastide traditions?”
“If you call trying to break into the headmaster’s cache of spiced wine at Eton as a tradition, then yes,” Daniel replied dryly. “But also, was the whipping we received when we were found out.”
Riding close enough that their thighs touched, Harriet asked, “How were you discovered?”
“Sadly, it is evident when a twelve-year boy is a drunk as a wheelbarrow,” Daniel replied. “Slurred words are signs of either drunkenness or apoplexy, and I don’t think the latter malady happens at such a young age.”
Nudging him with her elbow, Harriet asked, “And by twelve years, is the speaker referring to himself…”
“He is,” Daniel replied.
“And tell me why such a boy would dare to steal liquor and be trounced by a man twice his size?” Harriet asked.
“Rebelliousness, stubbornness, and a desire to beat the odds,” Daniel shrugged, “take your pick.”
“I’ll take all three,” Harriet replied somberly, “because I’ve done them all.”
