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Lady Greymoor took down a green silk summer dress Alice had sent over with the coach. “We can’t tarry up here, since the menfolk are unsupervised and Mr. Grey a stranger among them.”

It took several minutes for Alice to change, and Lady Greymoor insisted on redressing Alice’s hair. All the while, Alice was subjected to a gentle inquisition.

“So how fares our Mr. Grey?”

“Are the boys going to public school? The oldest must be almost seven.”

“They never seem to ride out as a family, do they?”

Alice was soon in her green silk, her hair repinned, and her meager store of knowledge regarding Mr. Grey plundered. She did not tell her hostess his kisses were sumptuous and his smile worth waiting days to behold.

“Do not let my brother-by-marriage put you off with his consequence,” Lady Greymoor suggested, taking Alice’s arm to escort her through the house. “Heathgate is a man with eloquent eyebrows, but he can be intimidating, unless you’re family. Any questions?”

“I think not.” In truth, she had too many to choose one.

“Good.” Lady Greymoor grinned as they emerged onto a side patio. She took a look at the expression on Alice’s face and frowned. “You haven’t moved about much in Society, have you?”

“I’m just a governess, my lady.”

“Hah.” Her tone was firm and very uncountess-like. “Steady on, and I’ll find you safe passage, but the menfolk need to be dealt with. My lord?”

Lord Greymoor turned an amused smile on his little countess. “My love? I see Miss Portman is sporting that dazed, uncomprehending look so common to your new acquaintances. Let me take her around, and you can turn your wiles on Mr. Grey.”

“You’re a dear.” She rose on her toes and kissed her husband’s cheek. “I thought I was going to have to prevaricate.”

“Perish the thought.” Greymoor winged his elbow. “Miss Portman, you’ve yet to meet my cousins.” Alice was drawn away as she saw the countess marching off in the direction of Ethan and his sons.

“I really think I should see to the boys, my lord.”

“I see a braw young footman hovering with their kite, Miss Portman. Resistance will get you nowhere. My lady claims you are not a governess, and she will have her curiosity satisfied.”

“What are you implying, my lord?” Alice allowed a little starch in her tone, because coming from a man, the accusation might have a prurient connotation.

Lord Greymoor shrugged muscular shoulders. “We will have to ask the countess what she implied. You are certainly prettier than any governess I ever had.”

* * *

“They won’t wake up until tomorrow,” Ethan said as he regarded his sons, sprawled on blankets on the floor of the coach. “Davey will see them to their beds, and Clara will get them undressed.”

“They played and played and played.” Alice brushed a lock of hair from Joshua’s closed eyes. “You’d think they never knew people their own age existed.”

Ethan turned to his brother, who was hovering near the wheelers. “Will you ride back with us or join John on the box?”

“I’ll keep John company. I had rather a deal of that whiskey, and the night air will clear my head.”

“Then I am your escort, Alice,” Ethan said. “Our mounts should be ready by now. Nick, don’t wait up. I know you’ve an early start.”

“Until morning.” Nick saluted his brother then bent to kiss Alice’s cheek. “Sweet dreams, lamby-pie. Remind me never to oppose you at pall-mall again.”

“Grey?” The Marquis of Heathgate emerged from shadows near the stables. “A word before you go?”

“Excuse me.” Ethan nodded to Nick and Alice, and joined his host’s brother.

She waited by the horses in the gathering darkness until Ethan rejoined her, content to let the men talk business or breeding stock or whatever was too unrefined for her delicate, tired ears. The marquis—who did indeed have eloquent, dark eyebrows—took a polite leave of her, and Ethan boosted her onto Waltzer’s back.

Though whatever passed between the two men, it hadn’t been about imports or commerce. The rising moon revealed Ethan’s features to be cast in granite, as remote and cool as a statue’s. The horses were back on Tydings land before Ethan bestirred himself to speak, and while Alice was concerned for him, she also had to marvel that she was happy—happy, content, and relaxed—to be on a horse’s back.

“Tell me you at least had a pleasant time, Alice.”

“Pleasant enough. The ladies are nice, if a bit fierce.”

“I’m to join them again on Saturday,” Ethan said, “for dinner. I wish I could take you along. I found them a rather intimidating lot myself.”

He was being honest. Perhaps it was the spirits consumed in some quantity earlier in the day, but Alice found that honesty touching. “And yet they’re friendly, and their regard for Nick sincere.”

“I cannot decide if Nick and the countess were lovers. Greymoor is extraordinarily tolerant, if that’s the case.”

“Not tolerant,” Alice said. “The earl and the countess are close and devoted, and she’s quite young. I doubt Nick would have dallied with her, but I doubt even more strongly she would have permitted it.”

“I cannot picture it,” Ethan said. “She’s barely five feet tall, while he’s six and a half feet plus. I can’t think it would be a comfortable union.”

“Do all men think in such blunt terms?”

“Yes, we absolutely do, about four hundred times a day. And I am not a particularly lusty fellow.”

This too was honesty, which Alice found… appalling. “I disagree, sir. I’ve kissed you, and I pronounce you very, very lusty, but also very discriminating.”

By the light of the rising moon, he turned in the saddle to regard her. “That is one of the nicest things anybody has said to me.”

“So it must ring true.” And she must not belabor the point and spoil the moment. “This isn’t the way we came.”

“It’s another path.” He drew rein as they gained a little clearing with a gazebo in it. “Let’s enjoy the night for a moment, shall we?”

Men. Their stratagems never ceased, and they called women calculating. “You’ll behave?”

“Get off your horse, Alice.” Ethan put his hands around her waist and lifted her easily to the ground. He didn’t let her go, but held her against him until her arms stole around his waist. “Let’s get something clear between us: I will not ever press my advances on you without your willingness. I could not, in fact.”

In contrast to his stern tones, his hands on her back were gentle.

“What does that mean?”

“Kiss me,” Ethan whispered, sealing his lips over hers. He took his time, but it wasn’t a cheerful little good-night indulgence. He brought her body close against his and angled her head with one large hand so she could not have avoided his kiss. His tongue was in her mouth, coaxing and teasing and implying a carnal rhythm that set up a low hum of need beneath the pit of Alice’s belly.

“Touch me, Alice,” Ethan whispered. “Put your hands on me.”

God above, it was a timely invitation. Alice wanted to burrow into him but settled for running her hands over his shoulders and arms. She swept her fingers through his hair, cradled his jaw in her palm, and rubbed her body along the length of his.

“Feel this.” Ethan took her hand and brought it to the evidence of his arousal. “This is proof I want you, and badly. But, Alice?”