will reserve a later set for me and we can forget the dance and walk outside. The gardens are very lovely at this time of year.”
Her heart hammered and her breath increased. A tingling of her lips anticipated that kiss she’d promised herself. Just a kiss. And she wouldn’t go far from the house. This time she was not going to lose control of herself.
“There’s nothing like an evening walk,” she said. “Meanwhile you may tell me about the fen country. What is it like?”
“Very flat.” His smile made her wish the promised later set was now. She felt herself drowning in a heated gaze that seemed incongruous in such limpid blue eyes.
T he ball was endless. Max fretted through half a dozen sets and the tedium of supper. In a house filled with the cream of Somerset gentry, there was only one person whose company he desired. Finally it came time for his promised dance with Eleanor. She, ravishing in blue, stood with her cousin, the impossibly unpleasant Mrs. Brotherton.
“Will you do me the honor, Miss Hardwick?”
“I would be pleased.” Her demure answer was belied by the smoke in her gray eyes. “But I find the room a trifle overwarm.”
“In that case, may I suggest a stroll under the stars?”
“This has been the longest evening of my life,” he said once he had her on his arm. “My job as Robert’s guardian is supposed to be over today, but the wretched boy keeps disappearing, leaving me as sole host. I’m afraid he’s dicing in the stables with the other youngsters. The three of them are probably fleecing the rustics, as Lithgow so charmingly puts it.”
“As long as no one’s fleecing Caro of her virtue, I don’t care.”
“Good God! I hope not. Why would you think such a thing?” Surely Robert wouldn’t? Max beat aside his uneasiness at the suggestion.
“Just a joke, a poor one. My duty is to prevent Caro and her mother from being at odds. She’s dancing with Lord Kendal now, which will please Cousin Elizabeth. I don’t really believe Mr. Townsend would seduce her.”
The light remark fell into a pool of silence, pregnant with meaning and memories. “Do you know what day this is?” he asked.
“Of course I do, but I didn’t expect you would.”
A number of guests had come out to seek the cool of the night, but Eleanor and Max were far enough from the house to be out of the earshot of others. Max halted and gazed down at her face, pale and lovely against the dark halo of her hair. He itched to frame the soft cheeks in his palms, delineate the high cheekbones with his thumbs, kiss the elegant nose whose slight prominence gave her face such character. He contented himself with taking her hand. She did not pull away.
“Not a day goes by when I do not remember that night.” A wisp of a breath was her only response. Max chose to find hope in her silence. “When you returned my letters I despaired, but I never wholly gave up. I always hoped we would meet again.”
As he spoke he saw pain in her eyes that squeezed at his heart. “Why?” she asked. He bent to hear the repeated word. “Why?” For his forthright Eleanor to speak so softly was another testament to how badly he’d hurt her. “It’s not so much the original contest. I know men can be foolish, especially when they drink too much. But why did you boast about it to Sir George Ashdown?”
“Boast? To an oaf like Ashdown? I did nothing of the kind.”
“He told me you had. In the carriage on the way home from Petworth. He said the officers of the regiment had a contest to see who could win a kiss from me. When you claimed the prize, you implied that you’d won far more. I’ve never been so humiliated in my life.”
“Ashdown lied.”
“But you did win two hundred pounds.”
“When we returned from the lake that night, Ashdown asked me if I’d fulfilled the terms of the contest—to kiss you, nothing more—and I told him I had. To my shame, I took the money. I’m not a rich man and I was intending to
Her heart hammered and her breath increased. A tingling of her lips anticipated that kiss she’d promised herself. Just a kiss. And she wouldn’t go far from the house. This time she was not going to lose control of herself.
“There’s nothing like an evening walk,” she said. “Meanwhile you may tell me about the fen country. What is it like?”
“Very flat.” His smile made her wish the promised later set was now. She felt herself drowning in a heated gaze that seemed incongruous in such limpid blue eyes.
T he ball was endless. Max fretted through half a dozen sets and the tedium of supper. In a house filled with the cream of Somerset gentry, there was only one person whose company he desired. Finally it came time for his promised dance with Eleanor. She, ravishing in blue, stood with her cousin, the impossibly unpleasant Mrs. Brotherton.
“Will you do me the honor, Miss Hardwick?”
“I would be pleased.” Her demure answer was belied by the smoke in her gray eyes. “But I find the room a trifle overwarm.”
“In that case, may I suggest a stroll under the stars?”
“This has been the longest evening of my life,” he said once he had her on his arm. “My job as Robert’s guardian is supposed to be over today, but the wretched boy keeps disappearing, leaving me as sole host. I’m afraid he’s dicing in the stables with the other youngsters. The three of them are probably fleecing the rustics, as Lithgow so charmingly puts it.”
“As long as no one’s fleecing Caro of her virtue, I don’t care.”
“Good God! I hope not. Why would you think such a thing?” Surely Robert wouldn’t? Max beat aside his uneasiness at the suggestion.
“Just a joke, a poor one. My duty is to prevent Caro and her mother from being at odds. She’s dancing with Lord Kendal now, which will please Cousin Elizabeth. I don’t really believe Mr. Townsend would seduce her.”
The light remark fell into a pool of silence, pregnant with meaning and memories. “Do you know what day this is?” he asked.
“Of course I do, but I didn’t expect you would.”
A number of guests had come out to seek the cool of the night, but Eleanor and Max were far enough from the house to be out of the earshot of others. Max halted and gazed down at her face, pale and lovely against the dark halo of her hair. He itched to frame the soft cheeks in his palms, delineate the high cheekbones with his thumbs, kiss the elegant nose whose slight prominence gave her face such character. He contented himself with taking her hand. She did not pull away.
“Not a day goes by when I do not remember that night.” A wisp of a breath was her only response. Max chose to find hope in her silence. “When you returned my letters I despaired, but I never wholly gave up. I always hoped we would meet again.”
As he spoke he saw pain in her eyes that squeezed at his heart. “Why?” she asked. He bent to hear the repeated word. “Why?” For his forthright Eleanor to speak so softly was another testament to how badly he’d hurt her. “It’s not so much the original contest. I know men can be foolish, especially when they drink too much. But why did you boast about it to Sir George Ashdown?”
“Boast? To an oaf like Ashdown? I did nothing of the kind.”
“He told me you had. In the carriage on the way home from Petworth. He said the officers of the regiment had a contest to see who could win a kiss from me. When you claimed the prize, you implied that you’d won far more. I’ve never been so humiliated in my life.”
“Ashdown lied.”
“But you did win two hundred pounds.”
“When we returned from the lake that night, Ashdown asked me if I’d fulfilled the terms of the contest—to kiss you, nothing more—and I told him I had. To my shame, I took the money. I’m not a rich man and I was intending to
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