And then his lips were on hers, and whatever mesmerizing force had caused him to kiss her fled, and all that was left was him-him and an overpowering need to possess her in every way a man could possess a woman.

As one hand sank ever deeper into her hair, the other snaked around her, settling into the delicate curve at the small of her back. He could feel her beginning to respond to him. She was a total innocent, but she was softening, and her heart was beginning to beat faster, and then his heart started to pound.

"My God, Elizabeth," he gasped, moving his mouth to her cheek, and then to her ear. "I want… I want…"

His voice must have woken up something within her, because she stiffened, and he heard her whisper, "Oh, no."

James wanted to hold on to her. He wanted to slide her to the ground and kiss her until she had lost all reason, but he must have been more honorable than he'd ever imagined, because he let her go the instant she began to pull away.

She stood across from him for several seconds, looking more shocked than anything else. One tiny hand was clasped over her mouth, and her eyes were wide and unblinking. "I never thought…" she murmured into her hand. "I can't believe…"

"You can't believe what?"

She shook her head. "Oh, this is awful."

That was a bit more than his ego could bear. "Well, now, I wouldn't say-"

But she had already run off.

Chapter 7

Elizabeth arrived at Danbury House the following morning with one overriding goal in mind: to stay as far away from James Siddons as humanly possible.

He had kissed her. He had actually kissed her. Worse, she had let him. And even worse, she had run off like a coward-all the way home. Only once in all her years as Lady Danbury "s companion had she ever cried off work early, and that was when she'd had a lung fever. Even then, she had tried to remain at her post, leaving only when Lady Danbury had threatened to care for her herself.

But this time all it took was one kiss from one handsome man, and she was sniveling like a ninny. Elizabeth had been so mortified by her actions that she'd sent Lucas back to Danbury House with a note for Lady D explaining that she was feeling quite ill. It wasn't entirely a lie, Elizabeth reasoned. She'd been hot and flushed, and her stomach had felt altogether queer.

Besides, the alternative to lying was death by mortification. All in all, it took Elizabeth very little time to decide that her little fib was entirely justified.

She'd spent the evening holed up in her room, obsessively poring over HOW TO MARRY A MARQUIS. There weren't too many references to kissing. Mrs. Seeton obviously thought that anyone who'd been smart enough to purchase her book was smart enough to know that one was not supposed to kiss a gentleman to whom one did not have a deep and potentially lasting connection.

And one certainly shouldn't enjoy it.

Elizabeth groaned, remembering all this. So far the day was progressing like any other, except for the fact that she had looked over her shoulder so many times that Lady Danbury had asked if she had developed a nervous tic.

Embarrassment forced her to stop twisting her neck, but she still jumped a little every time she heard footsteps.

She tried to tell herself that it shouldn't be terribly difficult to avoid him. Mr. Siddons must have a thousand duties as estate manager, nine hundred of which required his presence outside. So if Elizabeth just barricaded herself in Danbury House, she ought to be safe. And if he decided to pursue the odd task that took him indoors… well, then, she was certain she could find some reason to leave the house and enjoy the warm English sunshine.

And then it started to rain.

Elizabeth's forehead fell against the glass of the sitting room window with a dull thud. "This can't be happening," she muttered. "This simply cannot be happening."

"What can't be happening?" Lady Danbury asked briskly. "The rain? Don't be a nodcock. This is England. Hence, it must be raining."

"But not today," Elizabeth sighed. "It was so sunny this morning when I walked over."

"Since when has that ever made a difference?"

"Since…" She shut her eyes and swallowed a groan. Anyone who'd lived her whole life in Surrey ought to know that one could not depend on a sunny morning. "Oh, never mind. It's not important."

"Are you worried about getting home? Don't be. I'll have someone drive you home. You shouldn't expose yourself to the elements so soon after an illness." Lady Danbury's eyes narrowed. "Although I must say you look remarkably recovered."

"I don't feel remarkably recovered," Elizabeth said, quite honestly.

"What did you say was wrong with you?"

"My stomach," she mumbled. "I think it was something I ate."

"Hmmph. No one else fell sick. Can't imagine what you ate. But if you spent the afternoon casting up your accounts-"

"Lady Danbury!" Elizabeth exclaimed. She certainly hadn't spent the previous afternoon casting up her accounts, but still, there was no need to discuss such bodily functions.

Lady D shook her head. "Too modest by half. When did women get to be so prissy?"

"When we decided that vomit wasn't a pleasant topic of conversation," Elizabeth retorted.

"That's the spirit!" Lady Danbury chortled, clapping her hands together. “I declare, Elizabeth Hotchkiss, you sound more and more like myself every day."

"God help me," Elizabeth groaned.

"Even better. Exactly what I would have said." Lady Danbury sat back, tapped her index finger to her forehead, and frowned. "Now, then, what was I talking about? Oh, yes, we wanted to make sure that you wouldn't have to walk home in the rain. Don't fear, we'll find someone to drive you. My new estate manager, if need be. Lord knows he won't be able to get anything done in this weather."

Elizabeth gulped. "I'm certain the rain will let up soon."

Lightning forked through the sky-just to spite her, she was sure-followed by a clap of thunder so loud Elizabeth jumped a foot. "Ow!" she yelped.

"What did you do to yourself now?"

"Just my knee," she replied with a patently false smile. "Doesn't hurt a bit."

Lady Danbury snorted her disbelief.

"No, really," Elizabeth insisted. "Funny how I never noticed that end table there, though."

"Oh, that. Moved it there yesterday. Mr. Siddons suggested it."

"That figures," Elizabeth muttered.

"Beg pardon?"

"Nothing," she said, a little too loudly.

"Hmmph," was Lady Danbury's reply. "I'm thirsty."

Elizabeth immediately warmed to the prospect of having something to do besides stare out the window and worry that Mr. Siddons was going to make an appearance. "Would you care for tea, Lady Danbury? Or perhaps I can have Cook prepare some lemonade."

"Too early in the morning for lemonade," Lady D barked. "Too early for tea, as a matter of fact, but I'll have some anyway."

"Didn't you take tea with breakfast?" Elizabeth pointed out.

"That was breakfast tea. Different entirely."

"Ah." Someday, Elizabeth thought, she would receive a sainthood for this.

"Make sure Cook puts biscuits on the tray. And don't forget to ask her to fix something for Malcolm." Lady D craned her head this way and that. "Where is that cat?"

"Plotting his latest scheme to torture me, no doubt," Elizabeth muttered.

"Eh? What was that?"

Elizabeth turned toward the door, still looking over her shoulder at Lady Danbury. "Nothing at all, Lady Danbury. I'll just-"

Anything else she might have said was lost as her shoulder bumped into something large, warm, and decidedly human.

Elizabeth groaned. Mr. Siddons. It had to be. She had never been a particularly lucky woman.

"Steady, there," she heard him say, a split second before his hands gently grasped her upper arms.

"Mr. Siddons!" Lady Danbury trilled. "How lovely to see you so early in the morning."

"Indeed," Elizabeth muttered.

"Won't you join us for tea?" Lady D continued. "Elizabeth was just off to fetch a tray."

Elizabeth was still refusing-on principle, although she wasn't entirely certain which principle-to look at his face, but she felt his wolfish smile nonetheless.

"I'd be delighted," he said.

"Excellent," Lady Danbury replied. "Elizabeth, off with you, then. We'll need tea for three."

"I can't go anywhere," Elizabeth ground out, "while Mr. Siddons is holding on to my arms."

“Was I doing that?'' he said guilelessly, releasing his grip. "Didn't even realize it."

If she'd had any sort of fortune, Elizabeth decided grimly, she'd have bet it then and there that he was lying.

“I did have a few questions for our dear Miss Hotchkiss," Mr. Siddons said.

Elizabeth's lips parted in surprise.

"They can wait until she returns, I'm sure," he murmured.

Elizabeth's head darted back and forth between Mr. Siddons and Lady Danbury as she tried to comprehend the oddly quiet tension in the room. "If you're sure," she said. "I'd be happy to-"

"He thinks you're blackmailing me," Lady Danbury said bluntly.

"He thinks I'm doing what?" Elizabeth nearly screeched.

"Agatha!" Mr. Siddons burst out, sounding very much as if he wanted to curse the old lady to perdition. "Haven't you ever heard of the word 'subtlety'?"

"Hmmph. Has never worked for me."

"I'll say," he muttered.

"Did you just call her Agatha?" Elizabeth asked. She looked over at Lady Danbury in surprise. She'd been tending to the countess for five years and had never presumed to use her given name.

"I knew Mr. Siddons's mother," Lady Danbury said, as if that explained everything.

Elizabeth planted her hands on her hips and glowered up at the handsome estate manager. “How dare you think I would blackmail this sweet old lady!"