“Oh, look!” she said as she did just that herself.

But Mr. Butler was looking at her, the breeze, which was stronger up here, ruffling his hair.

“I knew you would be impressed,” he said.

Even at this time of night she could see that there was land visible for miles about, slumbering peacefully under a summer sky. But it was the sea that drew her attention. It stretched below them in a huge arc, faintly silver in the light from above, one wide band of moonlight stretched across it from horizon to shore. The long outcropping of land to the right jutted into the middle of the moonbeam, looking very black in contrast, and more than ever like a roaring dragon. From this high up the sea beyond it was visible too.

“One cannot help but admire that dragon,” she said, pointing. “It is roaring defiance to the whole ocean, not at all intimidated by the sheer size and power of it.”

“We could all learn a lesson from it,” he said, laughing. “Can there be a lovelier view anywhere?”

“I doubt it,” she said fervently. “I am very glad you brought me here.”

“I would suggest sitting for a while,” he said, “but you are wearing a pretty gown. Perhaps you would sit on my coat.”

“My shawl will do,” she said, taking it from about her elbows and opening it out. “You see? It is big enough for both of us.” She turned and spread it on the rough grass at their feet and sat down on one side of it.

After a moment he joined her there.

“I come here sometimes,” he said, “when I just want to sit and meditate. I come here even in the winter when it is cold and blustery. That is one thing about wild, natural beauty. It is never the same and yet it is always lovely and soothing to the soul.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while. Then he asked her about the school, and she told him about her friends there and about the rest of the staff, about the girls and their lessons and other activities. She talked for a long time, prompted by his questions and his obvious interest in her answers, and she realized anew how very fortunate she was to have found employment that felt more like a happy way of life than work.

“And what about you?” she asked him. “Is being steward here something that really interests you?”

He described his duties to her and told her about the home farm and laborers, about the tenant farms, about some of the villagers, about his particular friends there.

“The trouble with being steward to an absentee landlord,” he said, “is that one comes almost to believe that one is the owner. I have grown very attached to Glandwr and the countryside and people hereabouts. I hope never to leave. But I have told you that before.”

Finally they lapsed into silence again. And Anne, though she still gazed in wonder at the sea, realized that the loveliest view of all was above her head. But it made her dizzy to tip back her head to look up.

She lay back on the shawl, crossing her hands beneath her head.

“Ah,” she said, “that is better. I wonder just how many stars we can see.”

“If you wish to count them,” he said, chuckling as he turned his head to look down at her, “please do not let me stop you.”

“And there must be as many more that we cannot see,” she said.

“How far does the universe stretch, would you say?”

“Forever,” he said.

“My mind cannot grasp forever,” she told him. “There must surely be an end somewhere. But the big question is-what is beyond the end?”

He lay down beside her, still chuckling.

“I suppose,” he said, “there are astronomers and philosophers and theologians who will not cease seeking the answers and perhaps one day they will succeed. I share your curiosity. But sometimes I just marvel.”

“Yes.” Her eyes roamed across the sky. “We were meant to seek. But we were also meant simply to accept and enjoy. You are right. I can see the Big Dipper. It is the only thing I can identify by name, alas. But it does not matter, does it?”

“It does not matter,” he agreed.

They turned their heads to smile at each other and then both gazed upward again, glorying in the wonder of it all.

And yet…

And yet there was suddenly another dimension to the awareness Anne felt. They were close enough that she could feel his body heat along her right side. They were a man and a woman lying together on a deserted hilltop at night, almost but not quite touching. They had talked and talked together. They had laughed together.

They were friends, she thought.

But it was not friendship that added a certain spice to the heightened sensual awareness that star-gazing had brought. It was something far more carnal. She felt his masculinity and secretly reveled in it though she had no wish whatsoever to act upon it-or to have him do so.

Or perhaps she did.

She was just terribly afraid-afraid of him, afraid of herself.

She did not explore either her thoughts or her feelings in any depth, though. She simply enjoyed the moment, knowing that when she was back at school, deep into the routine of the autumn term, she would remember this night and relive every moment, every sensation, and perhaps even shed a few very private tears for what might have been in her life if only…

But how could she ever wish to change anything from her past, even the ugliest thing of all? Without it there would not be David.

“Miss Jewell,” Mr. Butler said softly at last, “it has just occurred to me that we must have been out here for a long time. Perhaps the dancing is over and the neighbors gone home. Country people do not usually keep late hours. I hope I have not compromised you in any way.”

“Of course you have not.” But she sat up, checked her hair, and got to her feet while he got to his. “Nobody even noticed us leave, and no one will notice our return. And even if anyone does, it does not matter, does it? We are merely two friends out taking the air together.”

“Friends.” He looked at her and smiled as she shook out her shawl and draped it about her shoulders. “I am glad we are. I wondered after the last time we walked together.”

They were standing very close to each other, she realized. She felt an almost overwhelming urge to reach out her hand and touch his cheek again. But he was making no move to touch her in any way. She wondered if he wished to-and if she really wished to touch him.

She did not touch him. And she was glad he did not touch her. For if she did, or if he did, it would surely be more than just a simple touch this time. She would not be able to bear being kissed by him. She wanted it and cringed from it.

And the idea that she might cringe gave her pause. Cringe because of his appearance? Or because the last man to touch her had been…?

She turned away.

“I’ll race you to the bottom,” she said, and took off running and slipping and sliding and shrieking and laughing-and hurting her feet-until she arrived at the bottom of the hill all in one piece a few moments after him.

He was grinning his lopsided grin as she fell into step beside him, breathless and still laughing.

The dancing was just ending as they entered the drawing room through the French windows. There was a bustle of activity as all the outside guests found one another and their belongings and took their leave of the duke and duchess and the houseguests and one another.

It was an opportune time for their return, Anne thought. No one would have even noticed that she and Mr. Butler were gone.

“I must go too, Miss Jewell,” Mr. Butler said, making her a half-bow. “You still wish to join me on Sunday morning?”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “I shall look forward to it.”

She watched him as he took his leave of the duchess and realized that right now at this moment she felt buoyantly happy.

Like her son, she thought, she needed male companionship as well as female. It had been so lacking in her life. She would miss him when…But no, she would not think of that.

Today was Thursday. There were three days to go to Sunday-she actually counted them off on her fingers.

In three more days she would see him again.



“To a service that will be all in Welsh so that she will not understand a single word?” Morgan, Lady Rosthorn, said, staring at Joshua. Then her face lit up with mischief and delight. “How very promising, to be sure.”