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?”
