Winter's Whispers (The Wicked Winters #10) - Scarlett Scott Page 0,23

so he could speak with Lady Felicity alone for a few moments?

“A…knife throw?” Lady Felicity repeated, her flawless brow furrowed, as if she could not make sense of the words Gen had just spoken.

And aye, Gen could be rough and crude, but she did not rely upon flash as much as Blade and his brothers. In her efforts to open a gaming hell for ladies, she had begun correcting her speech. Her comportment—that was another matter. She was a hellion. She did what she pleased and made no apologies.

Blade admired her.

Not that he would ever admit as much.

Very well. Mayhap, if she asked and he was feeling particularly soft. But no one was pricklier than Gen. The woman was made of armor. Tough as iron. She would never ask. Nor would he feel soft.

Especially with Lady Felicity about, he thought wryly.

Grimly.

What was it about her?

“Dagger throwing is great fun,” Gen was explaining to an agog Lady Felicity. “I can teach you, if you would like. Or Blade could. None of us can exceed his skills.”

He had better talents he would like to teach Lady Felicity, but Blade wisely kept that bit to himself.

Lady Felicity’s gaze went to him, hazel eyes boldly inquiring. “I am certain he possesses a great deal of skills, Miss Winter.”

She had no idea.

Gavin elbowed him, barely suppressing a guffaw. Blade elbowed him back, a sharp jab to the side.

“Behave yourselves, you pair of children,” Gen chastised.

Gavin rubbed his side and grinned. “We cannot behave.”

“Aye,” Demon agreed. “We are Winters.”

Gen rolled her eyes. “Behave or don’t. All I want is to find my bleeding dagger.”

“I will help you to find it,” Lady Felicity volunteered, punctuating her offer with a shiver.

“You are cold,” he observed.

“Landing in the snow has a way of chilling a person,” she returned.

“I will escort you back to the house,” Demon said.

Over Blade’s bloated corpse.

“No,” he bit out, perhaps with more force than necessary. “That will not be necessary. You and Gavin help Gen find the blade, and I will escort Lady Felicity.”

He by no means trusted his brother. Especially not when it came to women. And Lady Felicity was his. Nay, that was all wrong. She was not his. But he had kissed her, damn it, and he had no wish for Demon and his charm to pick up where Blade had left off.

“I do not require an escort,” Lady Felicity protested.

Too bad. He was not allowing her out of his sight. This cursed female was nothing but trouble. He had known it from the moment he had first spied her rump poking out from beneath his bed.

“I insist,” he countered, grim.

To his surprise, no one argued.

Not even Lady Felicity.

Felicity was bedraggled, wet, and cold. The Duchess of Coventry’s suggestion she go for a walk in the south woods had seemed an excellent idea when Felicity began her sojourn. But one flying knife and a run-in with the Winter clan later, she was rethinking the wisdom of her decision.

Now, she had a torn gown, she was soaked to the skin, and shivering.

To say nothing of the fact that she was alone with Blade Winter.

Again.

“You are certain you are unharmed?” he asked softly as they crunched through the snow back toward the stately Abingdon Hall manor house.

His concern for her welfare would have been sweet had he and his siblings not nearly maimed her with their dagger-tossing match.

“My pride is terribly wounded.” She cast a glance toward him.

A mistake.

Blade Winter, with a lock of golden hair falling over his brow, surrounded by the brilliance of the snow, was nothing short of glorious masculine perfection. Curse him.

His bright-blue eyes were on her too, studying. “That is all?”

For a wicked moment, she wondered if he would lift up her gown and inspect her limbs again if she claimed an injury elsewhere. But then she quickly banished the notion.

“That is all,” she agreed, swallowing down a knot of longing threatening to rise within her.

This man is not for you, Felicity.

Think of Esme and Cassandra.

“How is Miss Wilhelmina finding herself?” he asked, not content to allow the silence to reign between them.

And of course, all the ice she had attempted to resurrect inside herself melted.

She stole another glance in his direction. “She is doing quite well. No recent escapes.”

“I trust if she decides to hide herself beneath any other gentleman’s bed during the house party, you will notify me.”

There was an edge in his voice. A curious one.

She could not resist prodding him. “Why should I notify you,