“Plan?”

“To locate the jewels.”

“I haven’t the vaguest idea.”

Victoria laid down her fork. “Haven’t the vaguest idea? After thinking about it all night long?”

“What makes you think that pondering the location of the jewels is what filled my thoughts last night?”

“Because it should have been. If I’d lain awake all night it most certainly would have been what I’d pondered.” Her conscience jumped up and shrieked with outrage. Liar! You were wide-awake, and maps and jewels were the last thing on your mind! She suddenly stilled. Was it possible that Nathan had suffered from the same sensual thoughts that had stolen her sleep? If so…

Whoosh. Good lord, it was hot in here. She barely refrained from fanning herself with her linen napkin.

“Then how unfortunate for our search plans that you slept so well,” Nathan said in a dust dry voice. “I did study the drawing and the letter further, but was unable to glean anything more. I also drew the grid map of the estate. I suggest we begin in the northeast corner and work from there. In the letter I sent off to your father yesterday explaining, in code, how you lost the note-”

“You mean how your goat ate the note.”

“-I requested that he send another drawing. Unfortunately, given the distances involved, by the time the note reaches him in London and a reply is returned, at least a fortnight will have passed. I’d hoped to have this matter settled by then.”

“So you can return to your home in-where is it again? Little Longstone?”

“Yes.” He tossed back the last of his coffee. “I’m certain you’re anxious for this matter to be settled as well so you can return to London. To your parties and shopping excursions and your suitors. So you can choose your husband and plan an extravagant wedding.”

“Yes, that’s what I want,” she said, a frown burrowing between her brows at the sudden hollow sensation in her stomach. She lifted her chin a notch. “You make it sound as if there is something wrong with that.”

“Not at all. If that’s what you want…” He shrugged.

Warmth crept up Victoria’s cheeks. How had he managed to make her feel so… shallow? Superficial? Every girl dreamed of fancy parties, shopping sprees, suitors, and her own wedding-didn’t she? Certainly all the girls she knew did.

Before she could inform him of that, however, he asked, “Tell me, did either my brother or Gordon question you last evening regarding your replication of the note?”

“Yes. Actually, they both did. After you departed.”

“The three of you were together?”

“No. Lord Alwyck asked me when we had a moment alone.”

His eyes narrowed. “And how did you happen to have a moment alone?”

Feeling much more in command of the conversation, Victoria enjoyed another bite of eggs before answering. “He gave me a tour of the music room.”

“Where was everyone else during this tour?”

“My aunt and your father were engaged in a game of backgammon. Your brother had stepped onto the terrace.”

“What did Gordon ask you?”

“How much of the wording of the note I’d been able to remember and how much you’d been able to decipher.”

“And your response?”

“As promised, I revealed nothing. I played the part of the forgetful, foolish, giggling female.”

“He believed you?”

“Without a doubt. Clearly he is accustomed to the forgetful, foolish, giggling sort.”

“And my brother? I take it you found yourself alone with him as well?”

“Briefly, yes. After we arrived back here, as we walked up to the house. I used the same ruse with him.”

“His reaction?”

Victoria considered for several seconds, then said, “He clearly believed me as well. But he also seemed rather… relieved. Of course, now both gentlemen think me a cabbage-headed nincompoop.”

“On the contrary, I’m certain they think you girlishly charming.”

“And a cabbage-headed nincompoop,” she muttered. “Did they question you?”

“Yes. I told them that as you were a forgetful, foolish, giggling female cabbage-headed nincompoop, any search would be delayed until I heard from your father.”

Deciding nothing she said would be pleasant, she applied her full attention to her breakfast. After generously slathering her biscuit with blueberry jam, she took a bite, chewed, then closed her eyes in rapture. “This is the most delicious jam I’ve ever tasted,” she proclaimed, “and that is high praise, as I consider myself something of a connoisseur.”

She ate in silence for a moment, then heard Nathan chuckle. “You have a sweet tooth and a hearty appetite, I see.”

Heat crept into her cheeks for forgetting herself. She normally breakfasted alone, as Father tended to sleep late and therefore she was accustomed to eating a large meal-something a proper lady wouldn’t do in front of a gentleman. “I’m afraid so.”

“No need to sound so sheepish. I wasn’t criticizing. Indeed, I find watching you eat very… stimulating. It inspires me to an idea.”

Her ham-laden fork paused halfway to her lips and she looked across the table at him. He was watching her with a speculative look in his eyes while he slowly tapped his lips with the tip of his forefinger. She wasn’t sure what idea she’d inspired in him, but the way his lips looked, so soft yet firm beneath his finger, was certainly inspiring her to an idea. Several in fact.

“What sort of idea?” she asked, inwardly cringing at how breathless she sounded.

“A picnic. I’ll arrange for Cook to prepare a meal we can bring along so we do not need to interrupt our search by returning to eat. How does that sound?”

An entire morning and afternoon spent exploring the countryside in search of a cache of stolen jewels with a man who made her insides simultaneously tingle and tremble? Who excited and frustrated and challenged her as no man ever had? It sounded exhilarating. Exciting. And oh, so very tempting. Her mind issued a cursory caution about being alone with him again, but her heart instantly silenced all objections. She’d wanted an opportunity to kiss him again-on her terms-and he’d just handed her the chance.

And based on her brief conversation with Aunt Delia last night before they’d retired, she needn’t worry about her aunt objecting to her riding alone with Nathan. Indeed, her aunt had encouraged her, saying, “Heavens, my dear, enjoy the lovely weather while you can. Just because I don’t care for riding doesn’t mean you should be deprived. Things are much less formal here than in London. Daylight rides in the country are perfectly respectable.”

“That sounds perfect… ly acceptable.”

“Excellent. I’ll make the arrangements with Cook while you change into your riding clothes. Then we’ll meet in, shall we say thirty minutes at the stables?”

“Fine.”

He touched his napkin to his mouth, then rose. After a bow, he quit the room and Victoria heaved a long, feminine sigh.

His breeches were indeed fawn. And they did indeed fit him very nicely.


Nathan sat on a wooden stool in the massive kitchen, munching on a still warm biscuit, and watched Cook pack items into the worn brown leather saddlebag he’d retrieved from his bedchamber. Memories of other times he’d sat in this exact spot, eating a treat fresh from the oven, stole over him. Growing up, the kitchen had been one of his favorite places in which to escape, not only because of the delicious treats he procured, but because of the thrill of the forbidden-neither he nor Colin were supposed to ever visit the kitchen. Most improper, his father had decreed. But as this was where all the treats were, neither he nor Colin had paid the slightest bit of attention to that dictate.

“Just like old times, eh, Dr. Nathan?” Cook said, a wide grin splitting her jolly features, her round cheeks rosy from the heat of the stove.

He smiled back. Her name was Gertrude, but for the twenty-five years she’d been in charge of Creston Manor’s kitchen, she’d simply been Cook.

“I was just thinking that very thing.” He inhaled deeply. “Mmmm. I believe this is the best smelling spot in all of England.”

There was no mistaking Cook’s pleasure at his remark.

“ ‘Course it is. And it’s ashamed ye should be for stayin’ away for so long. But now yer back and it’s a veritable feast I’ve prepared for you and your young lady.”

“She is not my young lady,” he said, ignoring the odd tingle those words induced. “She is merely a guest. Who likes to eat. A lot.”

“Oh, but that’s the best kind of lady, Dr. Nathan. The sort wot don’t mind eatin‘ in front of others and don’t put on no airs. Can’t abide by these ladies who peck at their food in the dining room then stuff themselves in their bedchamber.” She waved her hands and wrinkled her nose. “Bah. False is wot they are. Ye can always tell wot sort of woman yer dealin’ with by how she eats. This Lady Victoria has a hearty appetite ye say? Then she’s one to keep, ye mark my words.”

“She’d be a difficult woman to ‘keep.’”

Cook nodded in immediate understanding. “Strong-willed is she?”

“Very. And opinionated.”

“Both blessings, to be sure. Ye’d quickly tire of a chit who agreed with you all the time.”

“Perhaps. But agreeing with me once would certainly be welcome,” he muttered.

Cook laughed. “Oh, she’s got you right disgruntled, she does.”

“Because she is so very irritating.” And lovely. And amusing. And charming. And desirable.

Cook chuckled and shook her head. “That’s exactly what me and my William thought of each other at first. Couldn’t decide if we wanted to cosh each other or kiss each other. Can honestly say that in three and twenty years together neither of us have ever been bored.”

“And I’m happy for you,” Nathan said, reaching for a towel to wipe his fingers. “But as I said, Lady Victoria isn’t my lady. In fact, the sooner she leaves Cornwall, the better I’ll like it.”