“I am beginning to realize that with Miles one gets what one asks for,” Alice said bitterly. “But then I asked him what had led to his estrangement from his family and he went all cold and harsh, and told me he never spoke about it and that I was not to pry.”

“Men,” Lizzie said, with a world-weary sigh. “You know how they can be.”

“Not really,” Alice said. “And neither do you,” she added.

“Yes, I do!” Lizzie said defiantly. “They cannot talk about their emotions. They go all silent, and no amount of badgering will extract any information from them. It is very odd and provoking, but that is just their way and nothing can be done.”

She slewed around in her seat as the rotunda door opened and Nat Waterhouse came in, escorting Flora Minchin and her mother and Mrs. Minchin’s bosom friend, the Duchess of Cole. Laura Anstruther and Lady Vickery followed them in. The duchess was pointedly ignoring both Laura and Lady Vickery.

Lizzie’s mouth turned down at the corners.

“Spiteful old buzzard,” she muttered. “It serves Nat right that he is obliged to dance attendance on those two old witches just so that he can get his hands on Flora’s money. You know that they are to wed in two months’ time, Alice?” She clenched her fists. “I cannot comprehend how Nat can be so stupid!” This final word was hissed in a whisper loud enough to echo off the domed ceiling of the rotunda and draw the attention of everyone inside.

“What else would you have him do, Lizzie?” Alice said wearily. She felt sorry for Nat. “He needs to marry for money and has never made any secret of the fact. Unless you marry him yourself-”

“I’d rather pull my own ears off!” Lizzie interrupted, turning bright red.

“Then stop complaining,” Alice said, rather shortly. “If you are his friend you should be happy for him. If you have other feelings for him then you should do something about them before it is too late.”

Lizzie fell silent, biting her lip, and looking at her Alice suddenly felt a strong misgiving that she had said quite the wrong thing and put some sort of idea into Lizzie’s head that was going to explode in a spectacular way. She had no time to pursue the idea, though, for Laura and Lady Vickery were coming across to join them. Alice saw Miles glance over at his mother, and something changed in his face. What was it-regret, unhappiness? She sat forward urgently.

“Lizzie, do you know why Lord Vickery became estranged from his family?” she asked. “It is so odd-as though he resists all attempts to draw closer to them.”

Lizzie shook her head. “Why do you not ask Laura? She is his cousin. She might know.”

Laura eased herself into the chair beside Alice with a heartfelt sigh, for like her cousin Lydia she was in the fifth month of her pregnancy and was looking rather tired. Lady Vickery took a seat beside Mrs. Lister and they started to chatter like old friends. The Duchess of Cole and Mrs. Minchin had settled on chairs diagonally across from them in prime position to send poisonous little glances across the room.

“It seems the spa water has done nothing to improve Cousin Faye’s temper,” Laura said with a sigh. “We met at the library yesterday and she was monstrous rude to me. She commented that my family seemed hell-bent on marrying beneath themselves, first me, then Miles-begging your pardon, Alice, but you know what arrant nonsense Faye talks-and now Celia.” She smiled. “I must admit that Celia does seem to have a partiality for Mr. Gaines. I saw them hurrying off together somewhere this morning-” She broke off as Miles brought the beakers of spa water across to them. Miles gave Alice hers and then excused himself, going instead to talk to Nat Waterhouse. Laura raised her brows.

“How singular of Miles not to join us! Have you quarreled with him, Alice?”

“Yes,” Alice said baldly. “I asked about his estrangement from his family.”

Laura’s face fell. “He never speaks of it.” She gave a little shrug. “I was already married to Charles when the breach occurred and I do not know what happened.” She gave a quick glance at Lady Vickery, who was still engrossed in her conversation with Mrs. Lister. “All I heard was that Miles had had a terrible argument with his father and went off to join the army immediately. My uncle was furious-he had wanted Miles to follow him into the church.”

Lizzie gave a little giggle. “Now that would have been most inappropriate!”

“Dexter has taken Philip out fishing this morning,” Laura went on, lowering her voice still further. “My aunt pets him as though he is still a child, but Philip is of an age where he likes to do more masculine things.” She glanced over at Miles and shook her head. “I wish that Miles would take more of an interest in his younger brother. Philip worships him, yet Miles spends barely any time with him.” She looked exasperated. “Miles is so good with Hattie, and she is only his goddaughter. I cannot understand it.”

“Please let us talk of something else,” Alice said. Her feelings were still rubbed raw by Miles’s sharp rejection, and she could see that there was no explanation here for his behavior. Whatever the family secret was, it had been buried very deep.

“When does Sir Montague return from London, Lizzie?” she asked, to turn the subject.

“In a day or two, according to his last letter,” Lizzie said. “I expect he has thought up some more medieval taxes to torment us with. How peaceful it has been in Fortune’s Folly without him.”

As they finished their spa water and prepared to leave, Miles bade farewell to Nat and came over to join them. He was not behaving much like a suitor, Alice thought, but more like a jailer.

“I will drive back to Spring House with Mrs. Anstruther,” she said.

“Then I will join you,” Miles said promptly. “I can scarcely protect you if we are in different places.”

“I wish you would not bother,” Alice said crossly, as he handed Laura into the carriage and turned to help her. “I don’t want-”

She broke off as Miles bundled her unceremoniously into the coach, jumping in after her. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to sit beside him on the seat.

“Just for once,” he said, “you will do as you are told.”

“My, my,” Laura said, trying not to smile as she looked from one to the other, “this is going to feel like a very long journey!”

They sat in pointed silence as the coach trundled back along the route they had walked earlier. Miles did not take his hand from Alice’s wrist. She tried to free herself, furious at his restraint of her after his earlier coldness, but he held her fast.

With only that single point of contact between them, Alice soon found her skin becoming warm and tender to his touch, as though she were heating from the inside out. Her wrist tingled, incredibly sensitized. She clenched her fingers as prickles of sensation ran through her body, making her quiver. It seemed impossible that one light touch from Miles could do this to her, and yet she could concentrate on nothing else but the insistent pressure of his hand. His fingers moved, sweeping her palm in a caress that had her catching her breath. The air in the carriage grew sultry. Alice sat still, transfixed, the blood thrumming through her veins in hard, heavy strokes. The heat built in her body. She did not dare move for fear that Laura would guess her state and for fear that Miles would see what he was doing to her.

But then the pressure of his fingers increased infinitesimally and Alice was powerless to resist looking at him and saw in his dark, heavy-lidded gaze that he knew exactly how she felt. The knowledge made another wave of delicious sensuality roll over her leaving her languid and warm. She shifted on the seat, unable to prevent the tiny shivers of awareness that racked her body. This was almost unbearable. How could Miles do this to her when she was so angry and frustrated with him? How could her body betray her so thoroughly? And yet it seemed that that vicious frustration was part of the friction between them, for it chafed her feelings and gave her no peace, and she wanted to be free of Miles and yet she also wanted him so badly she could barely breathe.

Miles leaned forward and spoke softly in her ear. His breath tickled her neck sending more tremors of feeling along her nerves.

“You seem a little distracted, Miss Lister,” he said. “Are you quite well?”

Laura looked up. “You are very flushed, Alice,” she said. “Are you developing a fever?”

Alice saw a faint smile curve Miles’s firm lips.

“Yes!” she said. “No. I do not know.”

“You sound confused,” Miles said soothingly.

“I am quite well,” Alice said. With inexpressible relief she saw that they were turning into the gate at Spring House. She had spent the entire journey aware of nothing other than the touch of Miles’s hand on hers. Tiny shivers still seemed to be tiptoeing over her skin as she looked at him and he returned the gaze with a very direct look of his own. She could see in his eyes how much he wanted her. She could feel the tension tight in him, held under absolute control. She thought of their quarrel and how it did not seem to make an ounce of difference as to whether she wanted him in her bed or not and she felt helpless and eager and wanton and wicked.

As soon as the carriage rolled onto the sweep there was a shout, and both Marigold and Jim the footman ran out to greet them. Alice jumped and freed herself from Miles’s grip. Marigold was twisting her hands in her apron and looked as though she wanted to cry.

“Miss Alice!” She looked stricken.

“What is it, Marigold?” Alice asked. She was aware of Miles standing tense and watchful at her shoulder. “What has happened?”

“It’s Miss Lydia!” Marigold wailed. “She has run away!”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN