start, and her breathing slowed, became shallower.
"Why did you kiss me?" She scarcely recognized the hoarse voice as her own.
"What a singularly stupid thing to ask!" Though she had turned her head so that her face was in shadow, he knew that she was frowning.
"Malcolm will tell me," she answered at length, and Deveryn burst out laughing.
"Does Malcolm know everything?"
"By no means." He could tell that a ghost of a smile was on her lips. "But he understands the things that have to do with the sexes."
He was surprised at his own curt words. "And who might
Malcolm be?"
"A friend. A neighbour. I've known him for ages."
"He can't help you. You're frowning again."
"How can you tell? It's so dark in here."
In one swift push, he was off the door and had caught her by the wrist. "Let's go into the sanctuary where there's some light. No don't pull away from me. Really, I won't hurt you."
Without waiting for her reply, he propelled her through the archway and forcibly pushed her into the back pew. She moved over with only a slight show of reluctance when he made to sit beside her.
His lips twitched when he saw her eyes, frankly curious, move slowly over him. "That's better," he said. "Now we can see each other. Do I meet with your approval?"
Hectic colour heated her cheekbones, but she did not drop her eyes from his. Her chin came up and she said in a creditably cool voice, "You're not a bit like Malcolm. Only the colour of your hair is similar, though by no means the same. I don't see how I could have made such an error. You are broader and taller, and . . . ," her lips turned up slightly at the corners, "quite old."
"Oh, I'm 'quite old', am I?" he asked in an amused tone. "I'll be thirty on my birthday. How old are you?"
"Nineteen. But only just. Why?"
"That means a guardian. But we'll get to that later. What's your name?"
For the first time the girl's expression became guarded. "I'm not at liberty to say."
"Ah!" he said knowingly. "You've been well-schooled. But not well enough, or you wouldn't be here now, alone and with a total stranger. We shall discuss that later also. Tell me, have you ever been to Oxfordshire?"
"No. Why?"
"We'll be spending a great deal of our time there. How about London?" He was enjoying himself enormously.
"Yes. But I didn't care for it. Do you always speak in riddles?"
"Forgive me. Am I going too fast for you? I can't seem to help myself. Wouldn't you like to kiss me again?" "What? Here? In God's house?" She looked around furtively.
"Why not? Doesn't God approve of kissing?"
"I don't know. I've never thought about it. I'll have to ask. . ."
"Don't say it! You'll never have to ask Malcolm about anything again. You'll come to me if you want to know anything. Especially," one long finger tilted her chin up, "especially," he repeated softly, "if it concerns what transpires between the sexes. No, don't be frightened." His hand, warm and reassuring, caressed the nape of her neck. "What are you thinking?"
He thought he detected a glint of amusement in the depths of her eyes. But he might have been mistaken.
"What I think," she answered in clipped accents, "is that one kiss has addled your brains."
"Two kisses," he corrected. "And that's only part of the story. Wouldn't you like to know what's happened to the rest of my anatomy? Ah, I think I see a blush coming. Does that mean that Malcolm has been before me again? Tell me, does he stand in the role of a brother to you?"
She gave his question some thought. "Possibly. How can I say? I've never had any brothers or sisters. He's my closest friend."
"You're not betrothed to him by any chance, are you?"
"No. Why?"
"Breaking a betrothal is a messy business. I should probably have to call him out."
She stifled a giggle. "Do you always talk this way to strange ladies?"
His bark of laughter was as immediate as it was spontaneous. The girl hushed him furiously, and that made him laugh all the harder.
"Have you ever been to Almack's
"Why did you kiss me?" She scarcely recognized the hoarse voice as her own.
"What a singularly stupid thing to ask!" Though she had turned her head so that her face was in shadow, he knew that she was frowning.
"Malcolm will tell me," she answered at length, and Deveryn burst out laughing.
"Does Malcolm know everything?"
"By no means." He could tell that a ghost of a smile was on her lips. "But he understands the things that have to do with the sexes."
He was surprised at his own curt words. "And who might
Malcolm be?"
"A friend. A neighbour. I've known him for ages."
"He can't help you. You're frowning again."
"How can you tell? It's so dark in here."
In one swift push, he was off the door and had caught her by the wrist. "Let's go into the sanctuary where there's some light. No don't pull away from me. Really, I won't hurt you."
Without waiting for her reply, he propelled her through the archway and forcibly pushed her into the back pew. She moved over with only a slight show of reluctance when he made to sit beside her.
His lips twitched when he saw her eyes, frankly curious, move slowly over him. "That's better," he said. "Now we can see each other. Do I meet with your approval?"
Hectic colour heated her cheekbones, but she did not drop her eyes from his. Her chin came up and she said in a creditably cool voice, "You're not a bit like Malcolm. Only the colour of your hair is similar, though by no means the same. I don't see how I could have made such an error. You are broader and taller, and . . . ," her lips turned up slightly at the corners, "quite old."
"Oh, I'm 'quite old', am I?" he asked in an amused tone. "I'll be thirty on my birthday. How old are you?"
"Nineteen. But only just. Why?"
"That means a guardian. But we'll get to that later. What's your name?"
For the first time the girl's expression became guarded. "I'm not at liberty to say."
"Ah!" he said knowingly. "You've been well-schooled. But not well enough, or you wouldn't be here now, alone and with a total stranger. We shall discuss that later also. Tell me, have you ever been to Oxfordshire?"
"No. Why?"
"We'll be spending a great deal of our time there. How about London?" He was enjoying himself enormously.
"Yes. But I didn't care for it. Do you always speak in riddles?"
"Forgive me. Am I going too fast for you? I can't seem to help myself. Wouldn't you like to kiss me again?" "What? Here? In God's house?" She looked around furtively.
"Why not? Doesn't God approve of kissing?"
"I don't know. I've never thought about it. I'll have to ask. . ."
"Don't say it! You'll never have to ask Malcolm about anything again. You'll come to me if you want to know anything. Especially," one long finger tilted her chin up, "especially," he repeated softly, "if it concerns what transpires between the sexes. No, don't be frightened." His hand, warm and reassuring, caressed the nape of her neck. "What are you thinking?"
He thought he detected a glint of amusement in the depths of her eyes. But he might have been mistaken.
"What I think," she answered in clipped accents, "is that one kiss has addled your brains."
"Two kisses," he corrected. "And that's only part of the story. Wouldn't you like to know what's happened to the rest of my anatomy? Ah, I think I see a blush coming. Does that mean that Malcolm has been before me again? Tell me, does he stand in the role of a brother to you?"
She gave his question some thought. "Possibly. How can I say? I've never had any brothers or sisters. He's my closest friend."
"You're not betrothed to him by any chance, are you?"
"No. Why?"
"Breaking a betrothal is a messy business. I should probably have to call him out."
She stifled a giggle. "Do you always talk this way to strange ladies?"
His bark of laughter was as immediate as it was spontaneous. The girl hushed him furiously, and that made him laugh all the harder.
"Have you ever been to Almack's
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