Exhaling a deep sigh, she sat up and forced herself to hold his gaze. “You should know something. Last night, after you retired for the evening, you did kiss me.”
Numbness spread through his body. “How? Why didn’t you say something sooner? Lord, did I do anything inappropriate? Should I ask for your hand?”
“I’ll explain in a moment. Because I didn’t think you remembered. No, and absolutely not.” She ticked off each response on her fingers.
He arched his eyebrows at the last answer. “You don’t want to marry?”
“Not over a forgotten kiss.”
“I didn’t forget,” he replied, turning the sleigh to the right at the next corner. “I just don’t remember.”
She laughed.
“Tell me I didn’t enter your chamber,” he said, his heart thudding loudly.
“You didn’t.” She paused, capturing her lower lip in her teeth. “I entered yours.”
He frowned, slowing the sleigh until they barely inched across the snow. “Why were you in my chamber?”
“While preparing to retire, I heard a noise and decided to investigate.” She swallowed. “I thought the sound originated from your room, and I peeked in.”
Levi’s eyes rounded. “It must have been the thief! You’re fortunate you didn’t discover her.”
“Or unfortunate,” she replied, holding his gaze. “I could have prevented the burglary.”
“Or you could have been killed.”
The thought stopped his heart. He snapped the reins, attempting to clear the macabre image from his mind.
“If you only looked into the chamber, how did I manage to kiss you?”
Her blush deepened to dark red. “The Duke of Warwick exited his chamber, and I didn’t want him to see me, so I snuck in and closed the door.”
“And then?” Levi prodded.
He almost retracted his question when a pained expression flashed across her face.
“You said my name.” She lowered her head, whispering, “I thought you saw me, so I walked over, but you were still asleep.”
Her voice trailed off.
Swallowing, he stopped the sleigh, waiting for her to raise her head before he asked, “What occurred between us, Miss Rowe?”
“You grabbed my wrist, pulled me onto the bed, and kissed me.” Her words tumbled over themselves, mashing together into a garbled mess that meant disaster for his bachelorhood.
To be certain, he was already marching toward that end, but he wanted to lose the bet on his terms, not a drunken escapade that resulted in a forced marriage.
“I—”
She held up a hand, stopping him. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want you to experience the obligation currently coursing through your veins. Nothing inappropriate needs to be reported. It was merely a dream, as you said.”
He snapped the reins harder than he intended, causing the horse to lurch forward with a loud neigh. Miss Rowe frowned and twisted halfway around in her seat to inspect the horse’s flanks.
“Are you angry with the steed, Your Grace?” she asked, tilting her head. “I assume it cannot be due to my decision not to cost you ten thousand pounds.”
He choked. “How do you know about the wager?”
“I hear things.” She gestured in a non-committal direction. “Miss Fernsby-Webb is aware of the bet as well.”
