"You look… fine."

She burst out laughing. "You, sir, are either incredibly gallant or extremely shortsighted. Perhaps a bit of both. While I appreciate your effort to spare my feelings, I assure you it's not necessary. After spending three months on a wind-tossed ship sailing to England, I'm quite accustomed to looking frightful."

She leaned toward him, as if she were about to impart a great secret, and her scent assailed his senses. She smelled like lilacs, a fragrance he knew well for the gardens abounded with the purple flowers. "An Englishwoman traveling on board the ship was fond of muttering about 'Colonial Upstarts.' Thank goodness she isn't here to witness this debacle." Sticking out her foot, she examined her one remaining grass-stained slipper and heaved a sigh. "Good heavens. I am indeed a spectacle. I-"

A mewling sound cut off her words. Looking down, Austin watched a tiny gray kitten pounce from beneath the hedges and attack the flounce trailing from Miss Matthews's gown.

"There you are!" She scooped up the furry bundle and scratched behind its ears. The kitten immediately set up a loud purr. "Did you perhaps see my shoe in your travels, you little devil?" she murmured to the furball. "I believe it's stuck somewhere in those bushes." She turned to Austin. "Would you mind terribly taking a look?"

He stared at her, trying to hide his astonishment. If anyone had told him that his quest for solitude would turn into a rescue mission for a madwoman's slipper, he would not have believed it. A madwoman who had asked him to fetch her shoe as if he were a lowly footman. He should be outraged. And as soon as this inexplicable urge to laugh left him, he was sure he would be. Crouching down, he peered into the hedge from which Miss Matthews had sprung.

Spying the missing shoe, he plucked it from the bushes, stood, then handed it to her. "Here you are."

"Thank you, sir."

Raising her skirts several inches, she slid her stockinged foot into the slipper. She had lovely, slim ankles and surprisingly small feet for a woman whom he judged stood about five feet seven. Taller than fashion dictated, but a very nice height, he decided. His gaze roamed upward to her face. Her head would nestle perfectly on his shoulder, and he'd have easy access to that incredibly lush mouth-

Heat rushed through him. Bloody hell, had he taken leave of his senses? One peek at her ankle and he'd lost his mind. He forced his gaze away from her lips and settled it on the contented kitten nestled in the crook of her arm. The animal opened its tiny mouth in a huge yawn.

"It appears Gadzooks is ready for a nap," he said.

"Gadzooks?"

"Yes. One of the tabbies gave birth ten weeks ago. When Mortlin, the groom, found the brood living in the stables, he said 'Gadzooks, look at all those kittens!'" Despite himself, a smile tugged at his lips. "Actually, we should consider ourselves fortunate. The last litter was born in Mortlin's bed and the names he christened the beasts were much more, er, colorful."

Twin dimples appeared on either side of her mouth. "Goodness. It appears the tabby is quite busy."

"Indeed he is."

"You seem to know all about Gadzooks and his mama. Do you live nearby?"

Austin stared at her, nonplussed. She had to be the only woman in the bloody kingdom who didn't know who he was. "Ah, yes, I do live nearby."

"How nice for you. It's lovely here." She settled Gadzooks more comfortably in her arms. "Well, as much as I've enjoyed speaking with you, I really must be going. Could you possibly direct me to the stables?"

"The stables?"

"Yes." Her eyes twinkled at him. "For those unfamiliar with American cant, it means 'a place where the horses are kept.' Since Gadzooks lives there, his mama is no doubt looking for him."

Amused he asked "Perhaps you'd permit me to escort you?"

Surprise flitted across her face and she hesitated. "That is very kind, sir, but unnecessary Surely you wish to remain and enjoy your solitude."

Yes, surely he wished to do that. Didn't he? But the idea of being alone with his thoughts suddenly held no appeal.

When he didn't answer, she added "Or perhaps you'd rather return to the party?"

He suppressed a shudder. "As I escaped the party only a short time ago, I'm not anxious to return just yet."

"Indeed? Were you not enjoying the festivities?"

He considered telling a polite lie, but decided not to. "In truth, no. I detest these soirees."

She gaped at him. "Heavens, I thought it was only me."

He couldn't hide his surprise. Every female he knew lived for balls. "You weren't enjoying yourself?"

A pained look settled in her eyes, and she dropped her gaze. "No, I'm afraid not."

It seemed clear that someone had treated this young woman unkindly-someone in his home, attending his foolish ball. He could well imagine the belles of Society twittering behind their fans about the "Colonial Upstart."

Polite manners dictated that he return to the house and act as host, but he had no desire to do so. He suspected his mother was at this very moment sending exasperated glances in every direction, wondering where he was and how long he planned to remain in hiding. Knowing there were at least two dozen marriageable women his matchmaking mother hoped to throw in his path made him more determined to avoid the ballroom.

"Clearly we both needed some fresh air," he said with a smile. "Come. I shall show you to the stables and you can tell me about your adventures with Gadzooks."

Elizabeth hesitated. If Aunt Joanna knew she was alone in the garden with a gentleman, she knew she'd be on the receiving end of a lecture. But returning to the party was simply impossible considering the current state of her appearance. Besides, she'd suffered enough for one evening.

She was tired of being stared at and whispered about because she enjoyed conversing on topics other than fashion and the weather. And she could not help it if she was a miserable dancer and taller than deemed appropriate. If this gentleman was aware of the mockery circulating about her nationality and personality, he was polite enough not to show it.

"I realize you are without a chaperone," he said his tone amused, "but you have my word I shall not abscond with you."

Assuring herself there was no harm in accepting his offer of escort, Elizabeth said, "By all means, let us walk."

Strolling beside him down the path, her flounce dragging behind her, she cuddled Gadzooks in her arms and cast a surreptitious glance at her companion. Thank goodness she wasn't prone to heaving dreamy, romantic sighs, for this was certainly a man who could induce them. Thick ebony hair framed a strikingly handsome face made all the more intriguing by the play of shadows from the moonlight. His eyes were steady and intense, and when he'd gazed at her a moment ago her toes had involuntarily curled inside her slippers. High cheekbones, nose straight as a blade, and a full, firm mouth that she knew could quirk with amusement and she imagined would look fierce in anger.

In truth, everything about him was attractive. But there was no point in finding this stranger intriguing. As soon as he realized what a social disaster she was, he would surely rebuff her, just as so many others had.

"Tell me, Miss Matthews, with whom are you attending this ball?"

"I came with my aunt, Countess Penbroke."

Speculation filled his gaze. "Indeed? I knew her late husband, however I was not aware they had an American niece."

"My mother and Aunt Joanna were sisters. My mother settled in America when she married my father, an American physician." She shot him a sidelong glance. "My mother was born and raised in England. Thus, I am half English."

A smile touched his lips. "So you are, then, only half an Upstart."

She laughed. "Oh, no. I fear I'm still an Upstart through and through."

"Is this your first visit to England?"

"Yes." There was no point in telling him this was more than a visit-that she would never return to her hometown.

"And are you enjoying it?"

She hesitated, but decided to tell him the unvarnished truth. "I like your country, but I find English society and all its rules restricting. I grew up in a rural area and had much more freedom. It is not easy adjusting."

He glanced at her clothing. "Clearly you're experiencing difficulty giving up the American custom of crawling about in the bushes in your evening clothes."

A giggle erupted from between her lips. "Yes, it appears so."

The stables loomed ahead. As they approached, a tremendously plump cat emerged from the doorway and let out a loud meow.

The gentleman bent to stroke the animal. "Hello there, George. How's my girl tonight? Are you missing your baby?"

Elizabeth lowered Gadzooks to the ground and the kitten immediately pounced on George. "Gadzooks's mother is named George?"

He looked up at her from his crouched position and smiled. "Yes. As in 'By George, that cat must be a female because look there-she's having kittens!' My groom named her. Mortlin knows everything about horses, but little, I'm afraid, about cats."

Her answering smile faded as the significance of his words hit her. "Your groom? Are these your cats?"

Austin rose slowly to his feet, inwardly cursing his carelessness. His pleasant interlude was about to come to an end. "Yes, the cats are mine."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, dear. Then this is your home?"

Austin cast a quick glance toward the mansion in the distance. It was where he lived but it hadn't felt like a home in over a year.

"Yes, Bradford Hall belongs to me."

"Then you must be…" She swept downward into an awkward curtsy. "Forgive me, your grace. I didn't realize who you were. You must think me incredibly rude."