His anticipation knew no bounds.

“What in the world is going on here?”

The prim crispness of the voice made Hugh smirk as he glanced over his shoulder.

Elinor Asheley stood in the doorway, a smile on her face as she took in the children.

The smile vanished as she took in Hugh.

“You!” she cried, her voice now one of dismay. “What are you doing here?”

He gestured to the children’s obvious efforts. “Being made into a snowman, as you see.”

Elinor’s brow wrinkled. “You’re… playing with the children?”

“He’s so much fun!” at least two of the children cried.

“Is he?” Elinor asked mildly, her expression not changing, spearing him with a look as though he had somehow coerced the children.

Phoebe nodded eagerly and threw her arms around Hugh’s neck. “He was a monster, and then a dog, and then a silly dog, and then I said I wanted to go outside, but he said we couldn’t, so he taught us how to play with pretend snow inside! Now we get to have fun, and Mama won’t be cross!”

Somehow, the little girl’s enthusiasm managed to crack Elinor’s sour look. Elinor smiled with real amusement at the child and came further into the room. “What a fine compromise! And how much snow have we piled upon Mr. Sterling so far?”

The children took great delight in showing her the imagined snow upon him, as well as his hat, scarf, and what would become his face and buttons when the time came.

To her credit, Elinor nodded thoughtfully as they showed her, and she avoided any scowling, snarling, or giving the impression that she was anything less than fascinated by their efforts.

What composure that must have taken.

Impossibly, she actually joined in the game for a few minutes, helping the girls to pack snow around Hugh’s torso.

Interesting. She could be this close to him without breaking out into some sort of horrible rash? Would wonders never cease?

“Elinor,” Amelia huffed, propping one hand on a hip. “Move Mr. Sterling’s arm. It’s not sticking out as it should.”

Elinor looked at her cousin, then back to Hugh, raising a brow as she smiled rather smugly. “And how should it be, Amelia?”

Hugh gave her a warning look. “Don’t you dare,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

Her brows quirked in a blatant dare. “Amelia?”

The girl waved her hand dismissively. “Any way, really. We are using sticks for arms, so they should look like sticks.”

“Excellent,” Elinor practically purred, eyeing his limb in an almost feral manner.

Hugh was wincing before her hands ever touched him.

“Oh, good,” he grunted. “Now I’ll really feel frozen.”

Elinor’s eyes narrowed. “Phoebe, do snowmen talk?”

“No, of course not!” came the outraged reply.

“Then perhaps put additional snow where the mouth should be,” Elinor suggested as if it would be helpful. “And there will be no need to make a mouth out of stone or vegetable or anything else.”