She’d been quite relieved to discover that half of Lord Batterham’s guests had no idea who she was. Apparently, Buzz magazine wasn’t popular reading amongst the upper crust. And, although she’d thought she’d find some of these people stuffy and aloof, she’d warmed to many of the people she’d met.

And there was Ben. Always there. Always anticipating what she needed before she opened her mouth to express it. Not in the annoying, sycophantic way some people did, but just in his own unique matter-of-fact, I knew you needed it, so I got it kind of way. His impeccable manners were making him a huge hit-she half-suspected there were a couple of elderly duchesses who were plotting to steal him away.

The orchestra-not a string quartet or a band, but a full orchestra-finished their piece and paused while the master of ceremonies announced a waltz to take them up to midnight, now only five minutes away.

Ben, who had cleverly managed to be otherwise engaged for most of the dancing, now swung her into his arms and struck the appropriate pose.

‘Ben, I know you’re wonderful, but do mind this dress with those great feet of yours. It’s vintage Chanel.’

‘My feet will behave themselves impeccably,’ he said without a trace of irony, even though he’d managed to stamp on her toes at least ten times already this evening. Gardening, yes. Dancing, no. But somehow that just made him all the more adorable.

‘I’ve been practising this one,’ he said proudly. ‘I wanted to learn more but Gaby, Luke’s wife, refused to teach me anything else. She said this was all I’d be able to handle.’

God bless Gaby, thought Louise, as they started to move around the floor.

But, as they continued to move, he surprised her. Okay, he wouldn’t win any competitions, but she stopped being terrified for her dress and started to enjoy herself. Round and round they went, circling the vast ballroom. Was this what it felt like-to have all your dreams come true? Because, right at this moment, she was living in a fairy tale.

The music began to fade and it took her a couple of seconds to realise that the musicians were actually ending the waltz, not that everything but she and Ben was melting away into a dream world.

The first shout made her jump. ‘Ten…’

She looked at Ben, who was grinning, obviously pretty pleased with himself.

‘Nine…eight…’ the chant around them continued.

‘What?’ she asked, starting to smile.

‘Seven…six…five…’

He nodded upwards and bent his head back to look towards the ceiling. They were standing directly underneath a large display of greenery, dripping with bright white lights and, tied at the bottom with a sumptuous red bow, was a generous sprig of mistletoe.

She laughed, then quickly went silent as a very serious look appeared in Ben’s eyes-one that made her knees tremble and her heart rate double.

‘Four…three…two…’

‘One,’ he said, then delivered a kiss that shook her to the toes of her sparkly shoes. The cheering and clapping and congratulating carried on around them, but it was as if she and Ben were in their own separate bubble.

Were you allowed to make wishes at New Year, or was that only on birthdays and when stars fell? Because she wished that it could always be like this-total perfection, just like her dreams.

When Ben ended the kiss, she couldn’t bear to open her eyes. Instead, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight enough to make her arm muscles shake. Pressed right up against his chest, she could feel his heart beating, racing even faster than her own.

He kissed the tip of her earlobe and a shudder ran through her. Then he whispered in her ear.

‘Marry me?’

She froze. All around her the dream began to splinter. And she had no idea why, because that question should have been the perfect prelude to a happy ever after. She only knew she was terrified out of her wits. This was too real, too…much.

‘Louise?’ There was a shake in his voice and she hated the fact that she’d put it there. She pulled away from him and smoothed down the antique satin of her dress. ‘I think we should leave,’ she said, unable to look at him. She was angry with herself for hurting him and, perhaps a little unreasonably, angry at him too.

Ben ran after her as she marched off to the cloakroom and retrieved her wrap. She could tell he was itching to talk to her, but there were too many people around. And, coward that she was, she was glad.

Within five minutes they were in the warm of his car, pulling out of the gates of Batterham Hall and weaving down the country lanes back towards home.

‘It’s too fast, isn’t it?’ Ben finally said grimly. ‘I got carried away.’

‘Are you saying you didn’t mean it?’

‘No! I mean…no,’ he said in a quieter tone. ‘I would never play with your feelings that way.’

Not intentionally. But men were apt to promise the world when they were swept up in the first flush of love. Toby had been the same. It didn’t mean it was going to last a lifetime. Just at the hint of the possibility that it wouldn’t, her stomach turned to ice. Oh, she really didn’t understand what was going on inside her head this evening!

She did her best to explain it to Ben, staring at her lap mostly and only risking the odd glance across at him as he drove. ‘It’s all so new. How can we possibly tell what we are really feeling? We’re riding the first wave of infatuation and we need to leave ourselves time to get past that.’ There. That sounded much more reasonable.

He took his eyes off the road and turned his head sharply to look at her. ‘You think I’m just infatuated with you?’

She’d made him angry. That hadn’t been her intention at all. He glared at her for a hard second, then returned his attention to the road. An instant denial should have popped out of her mouth by now, shouldn’t it?

‘No,’ she said slowly.

‘I’m not just infatuated with you, Louise.’

Suddenly, he swung into a passing place on the narrow road and wrenched the handbrake on. He reached upwards and flicked a switch for a small light on the inside roof of the car. She swallowed. She’d always sensed that beneath the down-to-earth, practical exterior, Ben was a man who cared passionately and felt deeply. She just hadn’t expected it all to burst to the surface tonight.

He turned to stare out of the windscreen. ‘Maybe I am a little bit infatuated, if thinking that everything about you is amazing, if wanting to spend my whole future with you fits the definition. I thought I’d found the woman who was my other half…’

Unshed tears clogged her throat. They were wonderful words, but if she picked them apart just a little…

Everything about her definitely wasn’t amazing, and that told her she was more right than she wanted to be. They did need more time. Why couldn’t he see that?

He turned just his head to face her, and his eyes were burning. ‘It’s more than that, Louise.’

She shook her head. ‘You can’t know that for sure. Not yet.’

His mouth settled into a grim line. ‘You’re wrong. I know what I feel, what I want. I’ve never been more certain. It’s you that doesn’t know for sure.’

How could she know? Real life wasn’t like daydreams or the movies when it all became obvious in a blinding split-second. She’d felt this way before and she’d been spectacularly wrong. Of course she wasn’t sure!

‘You don’t have any faith in me,’ he said grimly as he put the car into gear and drove away.


Louise was pushing him away as hard as she could and it was his own stupid fault. He’d been hasty-which really wasn’t like him-even so, he was one hundred per cent certain that she was wrong about the infatuation thing. And he’d prove it to her somehow. First of all, he had to find out what was behind all of this. Something had triggered Louise’s panic button. Somehow, he’d touched on a really raw nerve.

When they arrived at her house, he insisted on accompanying her inside, sure that if he left it now, she would retreat inside her shell and he might not have the opportunity again. He had to talk to her now while it was all brimming at the surface.

She wasn’t pleased about him being there, he could tell. An air of irritation hung about her as she led him into the drawing room and poured him a miserly brandy. He took a seat across the room from her as she perched on a dark purple velvet sofa.

‘Why can’t you believe, Louise? What’s happened that makes it so difficult for you to trust your feelings?’

She took a deep breath and he saw her shutters rise. Damn! For five long minutes she stared into the cold fireplace. Then, still keeping her gaze locked on it, she said, ‘I’m scared to. I so want it to be real, Ben.’

Instantly, he was across the room and sitting beside her. There were wounds here that were too old, too deep to be healed in a moment. He’d been a fool. If he’d realised they were there, he would have trodden a lot more carefully. But she’d seemed so different recently, happier, freer…

She leaned against him, but still continued to stare into the empty fireplace. He placed an arm lightly round her shoulders and stroked the soft skin of her upper arm with his fingers. She didn’t push him away. It was no longer about convincing her, getting her to see the truth. For now, the important thing was just that she get a chance to vent things that had been buried for too long.

He waited, knowing that pushing her with questions might easily make her re-erect the defences.

When she spoke, her voice was so soft he had to strain to hear it. ‘Right from when I was very young, life was about putting other people first-which isn’t a bad thing. Don’t get me wrong. But even when I didn’t want to, I had no choice. So I used to daydream about the life I couldn’t have while I was being mother to my younger brothers and sisters and taking care of my father.’ She turned to look at him and his heart broke to see her eyes full of such pain. ‘I suppose it was my survival mechanism.’