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Audrey looked at the proffered basket and quickly took a piece. ‘Thank you.’

‘I trust you have quite recovered?’

It was a perfectly reasonable question, especially as it had been Kirkwood who had carried her upstairs. The very idea made her flinch inwardly but instead, she fixed a smile in place before turning her head to look at him. She felt it falter a little as the full force of his presence hit her.

‘I…’ she paused, swallowed and tried again. ‘It was nothing, really. Perhaps the heat of the fire…’ the words trailed off. Did one ever faint from the heat of a fire? Especially as the room had not been particularly warm? She certain felt warm enough now and wondered if she might possibly faint a second time. He looked devastatingly good and his mouth – that wretched, clever mouth that could kiss her into mindless insensibility – was very close.

‘The heat of the fire,’ he repeated, with no particular intonation. ‘Of course.’

She struggled to find something else to say but at that point Millie, who had sat on the opposite of them, spoke up. ‘Did you get stuck in the snow too?’

It might have been Audrey’s imagination, but he seemed to look away from her with an effort. ‘Indeed. The weather is foul.’

‘Was it very thick? We’ve decided to go on tomorrow on horseback if it doesn’t start snowing again. Do you think it might?’

‘It was becoming too dark to tell,’ Kirkwood grimaced. ‘I have to say, I was very happy to see the lights of this place appear.’

‘As were we,’ Lady Hathaway agreed, inspecting a bowl of green beans. There was nobody to serve so they were helping themselves. ‘We were worried we’d lose the road completely.’

‘I’m actually surprised there are not more people here,’ Kirkwood admitted. ‘I would have thought there might be more refugees from the storm.’

‘Perhaps they were not foolish enough to continue with their journeys,’ Allingham observed. ‘Or they very sensibly decided not to travel in the first place.’ His mother gave a soft snort but remarkably, she remained silent, which the rest of the room’s occupants took to be a vast improvement. Outraged reticence suited her admirably.

‘Are you visiting people in the area too?’ Millie said doubtfully. ‘They are staying with the Forbes.’ She added, tilting her chin towards the other end of the table. ‘Lord Forbes’ gardeners chased me off the property, one day.’

‘Indeed?’ Kirkwood looked startled. ‘Why did they do that?’

‘My dog liked Lady Forbes’ pugs,’ Millie explained cheerfully. ‘A little too much.’

‘Now Millie,’ Isabella said bracingly, preempting her mother. ‘There is no need to go into details. I’m sure they were delightful puppies, even if they were a little odd looking.’ She met Kirkwood’s inquiring gaze and shrugged. ‘Millie’s dog is a staghound.’

‘A very fine looking one,’ Millie pointed out. ‘Henry would have made lovely puppies. At least they wouldn’t waddle.’

‘Eat your soup,’ Isabella said repressively, ‘before it gets cold.’

Audrey listened to their voices, fixated on the well remembered, dark velvety tones of Kirkwood. When she had pondered their two brief meetings she had wondered if she had imagined the smoky tones of his voice. After all, she had been trying to deal with a sensory overload during their two meetings while attempting to recall all of the reasons why hurrying into his arms and allowing him to kiss her was a bad thing. Those brief few minutes at the park should have felt vastly different than their intimate encounter at Almack’s but she had still been spellbound by the man.

It would be all too easy to fall beneath his spell again for, even in the company of her family, in the modest dining room of this unprepossessing inn, Kirkwood had the same dangerous appeal that she remembered so vividly.

‘In answer to your earlier question, Miss Hathaway,’ he said now. ‘I am going to stay with an old friend. Linus Devonport.’

‘Devonport?’ Lady Allingham repeated, voice rising a little on the word. Audrey looked up and found the woman frowning at Mr. Kirkwood. ‘Sir Linus Devonport?’

‘Indeed, Madam.’

‘But he is advisor to Lord Liverpool.’

‘I am aware of that.’

‘Kirkwood was at Oxford with Sir Linus, Mother,’ Allingham said dryly. ‘They are old friends.’

The look on Judith Allingham’s face was a curious one. It was as if she had not realized her stepson might know respectable people, let alone count them friends.

‘We know the Devonports, of course,’ Isabella said cheerfully. ‘In fact, Meg Devonport is a particular friend. A charming woman.’

‘She certainly is,’ Kirkwood agreed.

Beside him, Audrey tried to banish the sense of unreality that permeated the scene. This was all so normal. Chatting about acquaintances they had in common, as if Kirkwood was simply another gentleman whom they’d come across by chance. She knew better. She knew that he was entirely abnormal in every way. She took several slow, deliberate breaths, trying to calm her jangled senses while she played with the food on her plate.

He is not my one true love. He is not the man I will spend the rest of my life with. But oh, how I wish he were!  The thought made her pause. Until this moment she had not truly considered that Kirkwood might be the man she had been searching for. But what if he was? He could certainly make her forget the world. He had the power to banish everything from her head but the thought of him when he was with her. And she had done nothing but think of him since the night they had met.

It hardly seemed possible. He was nothing like the man she had always envisioned in her head, that perfect man that had been created by the unrealistic dreams of a young girl who had sat dreaming over books and poetry. No, she could not possibly give her heart to a man like Kirkwood...

Could she?

Resolutely, she raised her eyes and found him looking right at her. A thrill of something deliciously forbidden ran through her, so intense that it made her shift uncomfortably in her seat.

‘You do not appear to be very hungry tonight, Miss Hathaway,’ he observed softly.

‘No. I am not.’

‘Have you lost your appetite for a reason?’ he inquired.

‘I am just not very hungry. Are you staying in the area long?’ she managed, relieved that she did not sound as breathless as she felt.

‘That very much depends,’ he returned.

‘On what?’

He was silent for a moment and she held her breath, waiting for his answer. ‘On whether or not I find what it is I came here for.’

‘You came here for something in particular?’ Stupid question. Dangerous question. But surely he could not mean that he had come to see her. He did not even know where she lived. Did he? And what would be the point? What did he intend? For, much as she might want him, she could not let him ruin her. Her family would be devastated.

‘I have some business in the area,’ he said blandly. ‘And of course, it will be pleasant to catch up with an old friend.’

‘Of course,’ she murmured. He meant something, of that she was certain. The possibilities made her heart race.

‘Are you sure you are feeling quite well,’ he inquired, voice dropping a little. ‘You appear a little flushed.’

‘I am perfectly well.’

‘You certainly look very well.’ She looked at him, uncertain what to say. He met her eyes and gave a wry smile. ‘I’m sorry my appearance was such a shock.’

He knew why she had fainted. Of course he did. She bit her lip. ‘I had not expected to see you.’

‘Nor I you. Not in this place, anyway.’

Now what did that mean? That he had thought to see her somewhere? She stared at him then realized, with a start of surprise, that Millie was addressing her. She jerked her eyes away, looking across the table at her younger sister. ‘I beg your pardon?’