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Just when she thought things couldn’t get any better, the carriage rounded a bend and above them, atop a kelly-green hill, stood the ruins of a red-brick wall with three massive Gothic windows. Sun streamed through the arched frames where glass once might have been. It was the most picturesque date she had ever been on and she felt a tinge of Austen’s Mr. Henry Tilney wrapped up in a Mr. Darcy package for a fleeting moment.

“Here we are,” Sebastian announced. “The ruins of Dartworth Castle. Mrs. Crescent. Will you be joining us as I escort Miss Parker up to the castle keep? Or would you rather stay in the comfort of the carriage?”

Mrs. Crescent eyed them both. “I will stay here, Mr. Wrightman. But you must both remain in my line of sight at all times.”

Sebastian handed Chloe out of the carriage. “Not to worry,” he said.

It wasn’t as if they would be alone, what with the two cameramen on them.

Chloe had never seen anything like the castle ruin before, but Sebastian had grown up with it, and might’ve even played here as a boy. Chloe drank it in. Here was ground more ancient than Bridesbridge, and the crumbled walls looked more than five feet thick.

“Amazing,” Chloe gushed.

Sebastian looked smug. “Why, thank you.”

“I’m referring to the castle, Mr. Wrightman. I’ve only just met you! When was it built?”

“The earliest pieces of it date from about the year 1130, I think, but it was added onto sometime in the thirteenth century, and then again later.”

As they passed under the remains of the archway in the gate-house, Chloe could imagine the noble families that must’ve passed through this spot all those centuries ago, with their flowing robes, thick gold jewelry, and royal headdresses.

But Sebastian was asking her a question. “How are you getting along with the rest of the women at Bridesbridge?”

Chloe had to stop and think of something, anything, witty or even interesting to say. It was hard to conjure anything amid such enchanting surroundings.

“I’m getting along with them,” she said. “But not all of them are getting along with me.” She stepped away from the cameraman, and stepped up onto what must’ve been an old wall partition. Could this have been the great hall? Grass grew in what would’ve been the stone floor.

“It must be difficult,” Sebastian said. He walked the perimeter of a crumbled wall until it ascended and he stood in one of the Gothic window openings. Chloe would not soon forget the image of him with his black coattails against the blue sky as he took off his hat to wave it toward Mrs. Crescent. He looked like he was born to wear breeches and boots. He smiled down at Chloe, who steadied herself near a freestanding fireplace with a partial chimney.

He stepped down from the window and leaned against the chimney. “Is there anyone in particular causing you trouble? Do tell.”

“Lady Grace,” Chloe said. She smiled at the cameras. “Seems rather preoccupied with making me miserable.”

Sebastian laughed. “Does she, now?” Under his breath, he added, “I do find her rather tedious myself.”

That was to his credit. She had to wonder, then, why he didn’t send her home.

As if he read her mind, he leaned into her as he whispered. “I’m supposed to humor her because of this land issue. Very touchy, that.”

Chloe was shocked that he knew about the land thing, and even more shocked that he confided in her about it with the cameras rolling. “You know about the land?”

“Know about it? Well, her family’s been trying to claim a portion of our land as theirs for almost two hundred years.”

“It must get a little—old.”

Sebastian laughed. “Now, that was good.” He looked into her eyes, and she felt him taking her in. First her eyes, then her face, her breasts, her legs. He pressed against her arm and his breath warmed her cheek. “I need to spend more time with you. You’re just the tonic I need.”

Her breathing became heavier and her body ached to get closer.

One of the cameramen angled in, as if to capture her agony.

“You know where to find me,” Chloe said. “I’d be much obliged to you to take me away from my needlework and bonnet trimming.”

Sebastian clasped his hands behind his back. “Now then. I have a little task for you. See if you can find the castle keep. I’ve hidden something there for you.” He folded his arms, leaned against the chimney, and watched her intently, as if he wanted nothing more than to be here, with her, watching her.

“A scavenger hunt? What fun!” Chloe spun around. She was enthralled. He had thought of a gift. He had taken the time to hide it here, in this enchanting spot.

“You have to hurry. Of course, the benefit for me is that I get to watch you run.”

“Ladies aren’t supposed to run.”

“Really?” He pulled out his watch fob. “You have exactly two minutes to find it and bring it back here. Ready? Go!”

She lifted her gown, and with the cameras behind her, she ran on the soft grass toward the keep, a crumbled tower in the far northeast corner of the property. The keep had a small entry, like a cave, and it was very dark, but just inside, atop a stone ledge, was something wrapped in a gold cloth, and she grabbed it, lifted her gown, and ran back, laughing.

“Just in time.” Sebastian wasn’t even looking at his watch. His eyes were on her. He walked toward her and they met in the middle of the green, surrounded by the jagged fortress wall, where they were drenched in sunlight. “Go ahead. Open it.”

Her fingers fumbled in the excitement. It was a packet of painting paper, period-correct oil paints, brushes, and a freshly picked pink cabbage rose. Chloe heard herself say, “How lovely of you. Thank you!” as if she really were English.

For a moment she felt transported to another place and time and she breathed in the perfume of the rose. How thoughtful of him. But she couldn’t kiss or hug him, so instead, she looked at him as if she had just finished kissing him.

He raised his hands as if to take her in his arms, but let them fall and cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, we really must get back, or Mrs. Crescent will give me a chiding.”

“You’re right.” Chloe pressed her paper and paints to her chest.

Sebastian beamed. “I’m glad you like the gift. But, listen. Feel free to come to me, to talk to me if Lady Grace ever crosses the line with you. I’m not sure how much longer I can tolerate her.” He guided them toward the carriage. “I so look forward to seeing you again tonight. It’s refreshing to have someone with intelligence and wit to talk to. And you will get a laugh when you see who I have to sit next to all night. If only I could sit next to you!”

And with that, they were at the carriage, where Mrs. Crescent checked the time on her chatelaine. Chloe looked back at the ruins, wondering what had just happened. She hadn’t learned a thing about the castle, but she did learn something about Sebastian. He was thoughtful, playful, sexy, attracted to her, and, most importantly, he saw right through Grace. He wasn’t swayed by her good looks, and that pointed to his intelligence. It gave them common ground to be in cahoots against her, too. Sebastian didn’t seem as reserved around Chloe as he did with the others; she had gotten him to loosen his starched cravat, and that was exactly what she had intended to do. He had given her a meaningful gift, yes, but in just a short window of time he had given her something more, much more, and that was the hope that she could desire, and perhaps even love, once again.

Fiona washed Chloe’s hair in a washbowl with a sticky mix of rum, eggs, and rose water. Chloe cringed every time her maid poured a pitcher of cold water over her head to rinse her hair. To help get through the ordeal, she thought of Kate, who had accidentally eaten a nut in one of the luncheon dishes, broken out in hives, and had to spend the day with her face covered in a paste of melted lard and crushed brimstone that Henry had whipped up. Brimstone, as in sulfur.