With a yelp, she brushed snow from her muffler. Her body shivered when some of the snow slid beneath her coat and down her front.
“The only other rule is, don’t get hit!” Lord Dowding said with a laugh.
Jenny gathered a snowball from the pile. Before she launched it, however, an idea came to her. Something she had seen Louisa do in the past when she encountered a gentleman in passing.
“May I ask a question before we begin?” she asked.
Lord Dowding lowered the hand he had lifted and walked toward her. “Yes, of course. Is anything wrong?”
“It’s just that I was wondering….” She batted her eyelashes at him, and his smile widened.
“Go on.”
Without warning, she threw back her arm and released the snowball she had hidden behind her back, hitting squarely on the nose!
“Hey! That’s not fair!” he cried, wiping snow from his face. “Osborne, it looks like we’ll be needing a judge. Tell her she’s breaking the rules.”
Jenny was laughing so hard her sides ached.
“Forgive me, my lord,” the butler said, his face ashen, “but from what I’ve seen, Miss Clifton broke no rules. I heard you say myself the only rule is that one may not go past either the front or back lines, and they mustn’t get hit. Unless that’s the rule you feel she’s broken, I rule in her favor.”
With tears rolling down her cheek, Jenny hurried back to her arsenal of snowballs and threw another.
“You missed,” Lord Dowding cried. “You must try harder.”
“Oh, I shall,” Jenny replied.
Crouching low, she gathered several more snowballs only to gasp when one hit her on the back of the neck, sending particles of snow down her back.
Back and forth, they hurled projectiles at one another, sharing in playful banter as their duel continued. Louisa cheered them on from her place beside the fire.
When Jenny was down to her last three snowballs, she called for a pause. “May I have a word with my war adviser, my lord?” she asked, motioning toward Louisa.
“I see no reason why not. And I’ll confer with mine. Osborne!”
As the two men walked away, Louisa joined Jenny. “What a wonderful way to spend an afternoon!” she said. “You must be so pleased.”
Jenny nodded. “I am, but I must find a way to win this game. What do you propose I do? I have little ammunition left.”
Louisa laughed. “I suggest taking one in each hand and throwing one immediately after the other. He won’t be able to dodge them both.”
“Excellent advice,” Jenny said, grinning at her friend. “Wish me luck!”
Before the match could begin again, however, Louisa let out a shrill cry. Jenny hurried to her friend’s side. “What’s wrong?”
Louisa lifted her skirts and wiggled her foot. “The snow has melted and gone inside my boot!” she cried.
“Osborne,” Lord Dowding said as he joined them, “take Miss Dunston to the parlor so she can remove her boots and stockings. They’ll dry quickly beside the fireplace. Far faster than they will out here.”
“Yes, my lord,” the butler said. “This way if you will, Miss Dunston.”
Lord Dowding turned and grinned at Jenny. “And you? Will you surrender so you may join your friend inside? I would hate to see you suffer from the cold.”
“You’ll not achieve a victory that easily,” Jenny said. “I’ll not concede. Not yet.”
As they returned to their places, a new idea occurred to Jenny. Gathering the last three snowballs, she approached the center line, stopping only two paces short of it.
“It’s only fair that I warn you I’m about to win this battle, my lord.”