and brushed at his coat. ‘We were just—’
‘Just about to go,’ Sasha interjected, reaching to pick up her hat and pass Georgia her own.
‘Don’t rush away on my account. Please.’
Captain Bowen turned to look at Sasha, and she was struck again by the blueness of his eyes and how very good looking he was, his sun-bleached hair gleaming gold in the winter sunshine. She could not help but glance at his mouth, the welldisciplined line of the upper lip complimented by the slightly fuller lower, curving into an attractive smile. His shoulders seemed very broad and masculine, and his legs in beige jodhpurs left her in no doubt that he was a well-made man.
Georgia was not one to let her natural effervescence be dampened and, undeterred by the new arrival on the scene, she and Felix resumed their building of the snowman.
‘We need some twigs for his hands,’ Georgia said, looking about.
‘There’s a hawthorn bush over there,’ Captain Bowen pointed out.
Being the nearest to it, Sasha set off and trudged through the drifts of snow to a nearby flower bed, reaching out to grasp a twig and snap it off. But it was resistant to her efforts and she struggled, leaning forwards and tugging with both hands, trying to avoid the adjacent prickly holly bush, and then she gave a little cry as her feet slipped and she lost her balance. She teetered, but before she fell two hands fastened on her waist and pulled her back against the solid bulk of a very male and warm body.
‘Steady on, Miss Packard.’ Captain Bowen laughed. ‘Can’t have you falling into the holly and getting scratched now, can we?’
Sasha blushed, but it was hardly noticeable as her face was already so flushed from the cold and the exertions of the snowball fights.
‘Try that one over there,’ called Georgia with subtle cunning, as she directed her sister and Captain Bowen further away. ‘We need some big pieces and that bush is too small.’
‘Oh, Georgia! We really should be going,’ objected Sasha.
‘Go on!’ her sister urged, casting a glance at Felix. ‘And find two pebbles for his eyes.’
With a sigh and an apologetic glance up at Captain Bowen, Sasha turned and walked away, round the corner of the flower bed, her eyes searching for anything suitable. As soon as they were out of sight, Felix and Georgia fell into each other’s arms, the groom holding the horses discreetly looking in the other direction.
‘Here we are, this will do. Captain Bowen—’ Sasha turned to him ‘—would you be so kind? I can’t quite reach.’
‘Of course.’
He reached up and effortlessly snapped off two long twigs, while Sasha knelt and picked out some small dark stones from the flower bed. She tried to think of some polite conversation to say to him, but nothing came to mind.
‘Your father has kindly invited me to dinner on Christmas Eve.’ Captain Bowen took the initiative and spoke first.
‘Oh.’
‘I wondered if you might have any suggestions for a gift I might bring for your parents?’
‘Um,’ Sasha mused, nerves paralysing her thoughts. ‘Well, I’m sure anything will do.’ She glanced anxiously over her shoulder. ‘We really must get back.’ She did not like to mention the fact that she feared what Georgia might be getting up to in her absence and, taking her skirts in both hands, turned about and began to march back to the snowman.
Unfortunately, she was not to know that beneath the snow someone had left a croquet iron; it was against this that her booted foot caught, tripping her up, and she fell headlong and face down into the snow.
‘Miss Packard!’ Captain Bowen hurried to her side and knelt down as she raised herself up, spluttering and gasping. ‘Are you all right?’
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Sasha brushed off the cold wetness clinging to her face, ignored the offer of his helping hand and rose to her feet. ‘I am perfectly all right, thank you.’ Stiffly, she walked on, and called out in a tone much like her father when he would countenance no objection, ‘Georgia, we must be on our way.’
Her sister, having achieved her objective and realising that she had gone as close to the boundaries of propriety as she dared, made no protest, and quietly picked up her hat and set it upon her head as she walked to her horse. Sasha followed suit and, while Farrell assisted Georgia to mount, Captain Bowen offered his linked hands to Sasha and boosted her up into the saddle. Once the two Packard girls were mounted, he turned to young Felix and gave him a calculating glance before leaping up into the saddle of his own horse.
‘I take it you are on foot, Westfaling.’
‘Indeed I am.’ Felix stared back at him, with a slightly belligerent set to his mouth, elbows akimbo.
‘Well, then, I will escort the ladies home.’
‘There’s no need!’ Sasha exclaimed. ‘We have Farrell.’
‘Of course I must, Miss Packard. I would be failing in my duty as a gentleman if I did not.’
Georgia was having none of this, and with a wink for Felix, she dug her heels in and her horse leapt into a canter towards the park gates, her glance at Captain Bowen clearly challenging with a catch-me-if-you-can bravado. Sasha followed after her. It was obvious to him that both the Misses Packard were excellent horsewomen and he set his own horse into a gallop as he went after them, the groom Farrell struggling to urge his lazy hack into a trot and lagging far behind.
‘Georgia!’ Sasha called, the drumming hoofbeats of their horses smothering her voice.
Her sister thundered on, and only lessened pace as they neared the park gates and she was forced to slow her horse to a trot as they clattered onto the hard surface of the paved road.
‘Wait,’ Sasha told her sister firmly. ‘Captain Bowen will think it extremely rude if we do not let him escort us. I am sure he thinks I am a complete ninny as it is.’
‘Oh, don’t be so silly, Sasha darling,’ scoffed Georgia. ‘Besides, does it really matter what Captain Bowen thinks?’
‘Yes!’ retorted Sasha. ‘Yes, actually, it does!’
Georgia was somewhat taken aback by her gentle sister’s vehemence, and she glanced back at the fast-approaching Captain Bowen with a thoughtful light in her bold blue eyes. ‘Very well, Sasha, we will let him escort us home, and even invite him in for a nice cup of hot chocolate.’
‘Oh, but—’
Georgia looked at her with raised brows, her head tilted slightly to one side. ‘What, changed your mind? Come now, you can’t be blowing hot and then cold in the space of a few seconds.’
‘I am not blowing hot! Really, Georgia, you try my patience, you are the most exasperating—’ Sasha bit her tongue as Captain Bowen approached, and the girls drew their horses level on either side of him, making a picturesque tableau that drew admiring glances, the two elegantly attired young women on their dappled-grey hunters riding alongside the handsome gentleman astride his big, gleaming bay.
A
