Matthew screwed up his face and released a pre-pubescent battle cry before tearing across the lawn, only to trip and land face-down in the snow.
Lily winced and moved to help him, but he was already giggling as Cricket pounced on him to wrestle.
Philip clapped his palm on the back of his neck and grinned. “I’m not sure what my role is in this conflict.”
Lord, but she’d forgotten that grin. How his eyes would crinkle at the corners , his cheeks blooming pink. She couldn’t see the dimple in his left cheek beneath his beard, but if she pressed her finger to it, she would have felt the indentation.
No.There’s no place for affection. The man I loved is gone.
She squared her shoulders. “Are you going to join a side?”
“It would be unfair. I have terrible aim and would only cause harm.” He put on an exaggerated sigh, then leaned close. “If I recall, you’re a crack shot with a snowball.”
Her breath caught at the memory. The first winter they’d been engaged, when his father had just fallen ill. She’d found him on the terrace outside their estate in Lancashire with a cheroot.
“Only when you’re smoking.” Her cheek twitched. “You promised you’d stop with those disgusting things.”
“And I did.”
“Only after I knocked it out of your hand.”
His head fell back with a peal of laughter, warmer than mulled wine by the fire. “You were aiming for myhand? You hit me square on the chin!”
She bit her lower lip, but it did nothing to restrain her chuckle. “The effect was the same.”
“You’re right.” He rubbed his gloved hand over his chin as though recalling the moment of impact. “You always are.”
Had he stepped closer? She hadn’t noticed, but now the front of his greatcoat nearly touched her cloak, the tails of his scarf brushing hers. She wanted to reach out and tug the wool, loop it once more around his neck to keep him warm.
Wind licked beneath her skirt and along her calves, her wool stockings not enough to withstand the chill, and she shuddered. He stepped closer, raised a hand to lift her scarf higher over her neck.
Her fingers twitched at her side, eager to touch him, to remind herself what it felt like to have her hands on him. She fisted them and shoved them in her pockets.
“Join us,” he said, the mulled-wine sensation lacing his words. “Come have some fun.”
She barked a dismissive laugh, but it did nothing to put space between them. Invisible vines, dormant for years, were growingfrom the frozen earth and knitting them together. “Fine,” she managed. “But I’ll partner with one of the boys.”
A dark brow rose, making him look more roguish than ever. “Until we meet on the field of battle, milady.”
“I’m afraid we are out-manned.”
Lily glared at her nephew from her crouched position behind a copse of yew trees. Her knees ached and she was soaked to the skin, but the adrenaline pumping in her veins kept her focused on the task at hand. Namely, decimating Philip and Matthew by snowball.
“Out-manned?” She pressed a hand to her chest in mock outrage. “Reggie, is that a reference to my being a woman?”
Reggie recoiled. “Aunt Lily, I’d never say such a thing. But I failed to consider the Cricket Factor.”
He declared the last like it was a strategy taught at Sandhurst. “The what now?”
“He’s always hopping around Matthew, and I’m afraid I’ll hit the puppy when I mean to hit my brother.”
Cricket had been leaping at the frozen projectiles during every previous volley, so Lily doubted the dog would be offended by taking friendly fire. But she wasn’t about to stifle the lad’s empathy. “I see your point. What shall we do about it?”
His nod was decisive. “We need bait to lure them out.”
“Bait?” Realization struck. “AmIthe bait?”
“Uncle Philip stares at you all the time, and he won’t hit you.”
