Ness brushed her long blonde hair and put a simple ribbon to hold it at the nape of her neck. She smoothed her hands over her simple gown of dark blue cotton and made a face at herself in the mirror. Her family and friends called her beautiful. Men seemed to turn their heads when she walked by, so she supposed she was, but she wished that she could be seen for more than an accident of birth that had made her fair of face.

Her day had been frustrating. She had been so close to questioning the Widdons girl and then maddeningly had not been able to get the job done! It had been uncomfortable as well.

She had found her way quite easily enough to Widdons’ Mill and had made up a lame excuse for wanting to see Bess Widdons.

A servant had asked her to wait, but after a long while had passed, the Widdons girl never appeared. No one would say where Miss Widdons had gone. No one seemed to care. She had finally decided to give up and returned to Penrod.

Ness clasped her dainty pearl earring on and moved around her room, restless and listless. Randy had surprised them by arriving with Sheila Echworth at Penrod, whom he had invited, once again, to join them for dinner.

She and Lady Penrod exchanged glances.

Dining had been a tense affair with Rick scowling and Randy appearing oblivious to anything and anyone other than Sheila. Her cousin kept up a lively conversation to which Rick paid no heed and even Guss only mildly took part in.

At last, Ness thought, Randy announced he would see Sheila home and looked to Rick to accompany him, but her brother begged off.

Lady Penrod turned to Ness after Randy departed with their guest and said, “Well, my dear, come with me and tell me what you have been doing all day.”

As Ness walked out with Guss, she turned to her brother, who was still seated at the dining table. “Don’t you come?”

“No, I think I’ll just have another helping of dessert,” he said idly.

“So,” Lady Penrod drew attention to herself again, “you were gone all day.”

“Yes, yes, I was,” Ness answered saucily.

“Ah, you don’t trust me to tell me where you were?” Lady Penrod’s voice was tinged with hurt.

“Stop it!” Ness laughed. “Oh, but you play the part badly. You are simply steaming with curiosity, not concern.”

Augusta Penrod rapped her charge’s knuckles with her embroidered fan. “How very rude to see through me. Now, out with it, what have you been doing all day?”

“I went to see the vicar.”

“Oh, my word! Ness, my Ness, what am I going to do with you? Very well then, what came of it?”

“This,” Ness answered excitedly. “It seems the vicar had a tendre for Melony Fry, yes, you may open your eyes wide like that, he did! Tilly, his housekeeper, told me a great deal, and she also told me that this poor Melony was a heathen tart. Guss, I must tell you that I don’t like Vicar Poole. I hope that doesn’t offend you…”

“Offend me? Nonsense. He is a self-righteous pompous chap. Go on, do.”

“Oh, yes, I quite agree about that, but it is more than that. I can’t quite put my finger on it.” Ness waved it off and added, “The vicar did, however, discover Melony was taking part in those strange gatherings. That part is true.”

“Yes, we know that, but, Ness, you didn’t spend the entire day with a man you found you disliked? What have you been doing?”

“I went from there to…no, I shan’t tell you, not yet,” Ness decided on the spot.

“Why not?” Guss demanded.

“I have good reasons, Guss, my dear-heart and my godmother and friend, I just don’t want your loyalty to my mother…to put you at odds with me.”

“Oh no, and something you are pursuing would?”

“Well, I am not certain. But now, tell me about Mary.” She eyed her ladyship. “I could not help but note that something odd passed between you and my brother and you tensed up when Sheila mentioned Mary at dinner. You both did.”

“Indeed, Mary is a problem I need solving,” Lady Penrod said. “She can’t stay in hiding forever, can she, and you must have put it together? Mary is here in hiding.”

“Yes, I know, but I was waiting for you to tell me. I do think, for the time being, we should keep it secret,” Ness said meaningfully. She had already concluded Mary was the girl she had seen in the woods the day they had arrived.

They had left it at that, much to Ness’s relief, as Randy had interrupted them with Sheila at his elbow.

Later, Ness tossed about in bed, walked out to look at the moon, so full and bright, from her terrace. Not a cloud in the night sky so full with twinkling stars.

Read a book, she told herself.

Get the notion out of your head, she further chastised, but the notion had already taken hold.

Off went her nightdress as she rummaged for the breeches she always had on hand. A moment later, she had pulled them on, tied the strings of a linen white shirt, and slipped on a dark cloak around her shoulders. Boots—riding boots, ah, found and pulled on.

She gingerly opened her door. No one about.

She hurried quietly towards the stairs, went stock still as they creaked beneath her, and waited. No one. Good. She rushed the remaining steps, down the corridor to the central hall and out the front doors.

“Whew!” She breathed the delicious night and salty air as she made her way to the stables.

She could hear the head groom and a couple of the livery boys in the loft outside their chambers and knew they were drinking heavily. She slinked down the wide corridor of the barn to Shadow’s stall and took hold of the mare’s halter, whispering to her as she led the horse to the tack room.

She got hold of her mare’s bridle and saddle and hurriedly got her tacked up. Another few moments and she hauled herself up into the saddle and urged her onto the drive.

Ah, but the night air was sweet and salty and made her feel free. She was, of course, behaving outrageously. She was a woman, not a child. She could no longer call herself a hoyden and leave it at that. What she was about to undertake would be the worse scandal she had ever become embroiled in…if she was caught.

Right then, she smiled to herself, must not get caught!

* * *

The viscount finished brushing his stallion down, threw some hay into the makeshift stable, carried the two buckets of water Epps had left him on the cliffside, and turned away. He felt wildly impotent and frustrated stuck here, unable to do anything more about his present circumstances.

His mood all day had fluctuated. He prided himself on the fact that he was always honest with himself, but, if he were honest with himself, he knew he would have to say, that so far, he was getting nowhere fast.

He rolled up his shirtsleeves and moved outdoors. There, he climbed upon a favorite incline made up of small boulders of various sizes and crouched to gaze out on the dark modulating brine.

Again, and against his will, her face came to mind.

Blue eyes twinkling, pert nose in the air, cherry lips pursed in thought, soft luxurious golden hair around her exquisite face—the Naughty Lady Ness. He wondered if all they said was true. He shouldn’t believe gossip. After all, gossip had laid him low, gossip which was false.

Still, he had to wonder if she was the spoiled girl they said she was, and had she been busy breaking hearts without a care?

* * *

Lady Vanessa rode across the moors, wanting to laugh out loud. This was glorious. Why would anyone find fault with a woman taking this sort of pleasure?

She arrived cliffside and dismounted.

Carefully, and leading her mare, she made her way down the sandy path to the narrow beach below. Here, she stopped for a moment and stared out at the dark ocean with its crashing waves. However had he survived his fall? He would have had to have made a dive into the deep between the boulders. He must have known?

The tide was coming in and its splash sprayed her face and she found it glorious.

All at once, a flash of white caught her eye and she stopped short.

He was getting up from a crouched position and she found her voice lost in a flurry of emotion. She couldn’t utter a sound as she watched him. His silky black hair blew around his lean, ruggedly handsome face. His shirt billowed away from his hard bronzed body, showing to advantage his powerful lines.

She realized all at once that she was taken with him, attracted by his force, by his measure, and that would never do. That was the way to heartache. She knew better—didn’t she?

Her fine brow went up as she chided herself. She must not allow herself to think too much of this rogue. She had to use self-control because, for the first time, she was completely intrigued by a man and this man could be the one who would break her heart.

The viscount saw her all at once. His mind immediately urged caution in her regard. What sort of young maid rode out at night to visit a man accused of murdering a woman?

He jumped nimbly down from his heights and waited for her to approach. As she drew near, the torchlight from his open cave flickered over her lush form. Her cloak blew away from her shoulders and the shape of her body was provocative in her boy’s breeches.

Her gold hair was picked up by the wind and blew away from her stunning face. He couldn’t remember ever thinking any other woman quite this beautiful.

She was more than desirable and he hadn’t had a woman in his arms for quite a long time. Was Naughty Lady Ness after a little excitement? Was that why she was here? For some inexplicable reason, the notion irritated him.

As she approached, he gave her a slight bow, and his voice dripped with sarcasm. “Ah, my lady Vanessa, laden no doubt with supper for a hungry man?”

He was surprised to see her mouth drop and an expression of dismay cross her exquisite features.

“Oh, but you can see I have brought nothing. Goodness, my lord, I didn’t realize…didn’t think when I was sneaking out that I should. Of course, I should have prepared something…I was in such a hurry not to be seen. Oh, I am so sorry. Shall I hurry back and find something in the kitchen to bring you?”

He saw that she was sincere and was taken aback by it. Frowning, he said, “No, thank you, I have already dined.”

The viscount reached for her reins, cast her a sideways glance, and led her to his cave, saying, “So then, the Lady Vanessa would fetch for me?”

She stood near the torch, which afforded him a look at her pink cheeks as she pursed her lips and said, “I…I would do that for anyone who was in your situation…and…”

“Ah, would you?” he interrupted her as his hand imperceptibly pulled at the ribbon holding her cloak on her shoulders. He watched it drop to the ground and felt his blood stir. She didn’t move but stood warily, uneasily gazing at him.

“It appears that the Lady Vanessa doesn’t give a brace of snaps for the proprieties when her desires are at stake. She will don a boy’s breeches, take to her horse, and in the dead of night, visit a demon in his cave dwelling. Why? Because it is exciting, is it not?”

Temper flared in her blue eyes and caught his complete attention as she wagged a finger at him. “That is most unkind. You do not know me. I am not here because it is exciting, although the freedom of riding unhampered by skirts in the dead of night, as you say, was exhilarating. I came to tell you I have been investigating on your behalf because my godmother, Lady Penrod, does not believe you are guilty, although she and your poor sister think you are dead!”

He frowned, then lost all control as a small primal sound escaped his lips and his large strong hands found her small waist. In an instant he had her drawn into a passionate embrace.

His response to her lips beneath his took him by surprise. He had never felt this level of need and it was so much more than passion. He had never felt this level of ardor, an ardor that had him dizzy with hunger. He had thought himself immune to such deep-rooted emotions.

Lady Vanessa had not borne three London Seasons without having experienced the kisses of a sophisticated man. She had, in fact, enjoyed flirtations with some notorious rogues, but her heart had never been in it.

She had never before found that a kiss could do what the viscount’s kiss had done, which had made her yearn for more. Why had she lost all feeling in her knees—knees she was sure were about to collapse.

Why did everything, the cave, the ceiling, the walls, converge into a sheet of darkness within which fireworks exploded? What was happening? Why did the blood in her veins feel hot enough to burn her flesh?

Hold! Her mind tried for control. She managed to put a hand to his iron chest, and this proved to be so thrilling that she immediately withdrew from the touch! Her heart beat out a thump she heartily hoped he could not hear or see as it threatened to punch out of her chest.

She cleared her throat and said somewhat squeakily, but said all the same, “Tell me, my lord, do you mean to ravish me?”

The viscount stared hard and then released a gusty laugh. “Ah, acquit me of that. However, your presence here at this hour, dressed as you are, suggests that you want to be ravished, do you wish me to seduce you?”

Ness smiled, for the twinkle in his dark eyes was most infectious. However, she did not at all appreciate being treated like some noble tart. She had come to lend her aid. If she heard the tease in his voice when he spoke, it didn’t help to ally her rising temper. With a wave of her hand she answered, her anger rising with each word, “Oh dear, now you’ve made a muddle of it, haven’t you? I mean, really, my lord, the very least you could do is to make a push at getting me into that straw bed of yours. After all, it is a well-known fact that we daughters of earls do enjoy an exciting toss in the hay now and then!”

“What sort of woman are you? You did, after all, allow me to kiss you. You are here alone, and at an unseemly hour. Allow me to answer you in the manner you deserve. Yes, I think so, Naughty Lady Ness.”

She gasped.

He grinned.

He bowed and said, “Yes, your reputation has followed you to the wilds of Cornwall, and then what do I find but the Naughty Lady in my cave, without evident reason. I know your kind. You would rather the demon ravished you than seduced you.”

Ness felt the heat in her cheeks. She could see his point of view. She had let him kiss her. She did come to his cave in the dead of night. He had heard some gossip about her. All at once, she saw the humor in it all and laughed. “You, my lord, are certainly a fiend to throw my reputation into my face. Especially in light of yours.”

He had been in the process of pouring a glass of wine and putting it in her hands. He smiled softly at her. “So then, our reputations make us friends? So be it, we shall call a truce. I certainly want one, because, my lady, you are a mystery to me, a mystery I would like to unravel.”

She sipped the wine and wrinkled her nose. “I am no mystery…at least not to those who know me.” She sighed. “Don’t you think it an odd thing…this business of reputations? One does one thing and suddenly…” She flung out her hands. “There you are with a reputation.”

He laughed out loud. “Aye, though I have certainly given the gossip mongers cause for their prattle, I admit it freely.”

“Yes, I suppose I have as well. You see, I think a woman should be able to do what she can without social restrictions. At any rate, it is your London excursion into vice that started yours, I think. I have been wondering about it. Whatever could have moved you to take such a course? After all, my lord, you weren’t in the first blush, were you? I mean, I should think you had gone that route during your salad days?”

He put up his chin. “I wouldn’t call seven and twenty being in my dotage, sweetheart!”

She laughed. “No, nor would I, but then, as I said, you weren’t fresh out of school…were you. No, there is always a reason and yours couldn’t have been sowing wild oats.”

“You think not? Then allow me to explain. I came home from the war, perhaps a bit disillusioned, tired, having taken lives…lives of men fighting for an ideal, just as I had been at first. I found myself drowning in self-loathing and pity.” He shrugged.

“No, that doesn’t fadge with who you are. You are giving me a round tale, and it won’t do. I would rather you didn’t say anything if you are going to tell me a lie,” Ness answered, frowning. “You must remember, I have a brother, and we are in the habit of exchanging the most outrageous confidences, so I am not a green girl. You came home from the war a hero. You went knowing you were going to take lives. No…your story is idiotic.”

He put up his hand in some exasperation and said, “Do you know, I am inclined to believe what they say about you.”

“Are you? You will be sadly out then, for my life is tragically dull compared to what they say. But let us not change the subject,” Ness countered.

“The subject?” He smiled ruefully. “Am I to understand then that my life is the subject at hand?”

She smiled benignly. “Dearest demon, you know that it is, and I shan’t tell you why I am here until you confess all. It was a woman, wasn’t it?”

He looked at her sharply. “You are very perceptive.”

She inclined her head and sighed. “I should love for you to go on thinking so, but I am not really. You, my lord, are a romantic. You would like to appear a cynic, but, you see, I am well acquainted with a real cynic, and you are nothing like Lord Byron at all. So, shall I guess what she did, or will you tell me?”

He threw up his hands in surrender. Their eyes met and he whispered, “I don’t know what it is about you that makes this all seem so right, you and me talking as though we have known one another a lifetime.” He shrugged. “Very well, as you say, I was, the key word being was, a romantic. When I saw her that first time, I was four and twenty and thought she was an angel.”

Ness laughed. “No woman is an angel.”

“So I came to realize. She was not much younger than I and I was off to war. She promised to wait. I had reason to think she would.”

Ness eyed him for a long moment. “I am surprised she did not! You are out of the ordinary good-looking, virile, titled, wealthy, good lord, the girl must have…”

“Aimed her sights higher,” he put in on a note of contempt. “Though I do thank you for your flattery.”

“T’wasn’t flattery, my lord. Well then, she did not wait.”

“No, she took on a lover, some brawny servant, I was told,” he said, and took the glass from Ness’s hand and sipped the wine, looking directly into her eyes as he did so.

“No flirting like that with me, my lord. Now, what do you mean she took on a lover—a brawny servant. You said she set her sights higher.”

“If you will allow me to continue,” he shot back at her. “Ah, how does the story go? Yes, the angel of my dreams got herself with child and therefore could not wait for me. No. She found herself an ancient duke, and within a short span of time, managed to convince him the child was his.” The viscount looked away at this and then added casually, “From all accounts, they seem reasonably content with one another. So then, a sad story ends well.”

Lady Ness took the glass of wine back, downed its contents, returned it to his hands, and plumped herself down on a pile of clean straw. His story provoked a contradiction of feelings within her breast. She finally sorted these feelings out and looked up to find him watching her. She pulled a grimace and said, “Oh, don’t look like such an injured puppy. You must have been quite an innocent not to have seen through that ‘angel’s’ character. How very naïve you were at four and twenty. Faith! I am but one and twenty and have a great deal more sense than you did then. Tell me, for a creature of her stamp, you plunged yourself into hell?”

The viscount had never been dressed down by a woman, especially a woman upon whom, for some inexplicable logic, he wished to make a favorable impression. He was taken aback and stumbled to his defense.

“You…you don’t understand. How could you? I thought her…”

“I know, ‘an angel’, you have said. You created a being that didn’t exist and then were shocked to find she didn’t exist. Absurd.” She clucked her tongue. “My poor demon, such a sad excuse for going on such a protracted London binge.”

“Excuse. Me.” He was greatly astounded by her reasoning and beginning to believe she was correct, right down to every letter of every word.

“Well, really, why would you expect anyone to be perfect? She was lovely, so you could not imagine her flawed. We are all flawed. You wanted her to conform to your notions of what a beautiful wife would be. You never bothered to look past the façade.”

“Enough!” he said exasperated. “If you are trying to say I wronged the lady, so be it, I am paying for that now.”

“No, that is not what I am saying. I am clearly saying you wronged yourself.” She sighed and he found her blue eyes intense with sincerity.

He frowned at her. “Nonsense.”

She sighed and waved a hand. “Fine. It has naught to do with now…the here and the now. Things are in such a muddle for you, but never mind, we shall get through it.”

“Shall we?” He arched a brow at her. “Pray, how will we accomplish such a feat? The odds, you know, are not in my favor.” What was she suggesting? Did she, could she actually, honestly mean to help him? And if so, how? He poured more wine, and as he only had the one glass, took a long sip before he handed it to her. She downed it and smiled.

For a moment, looking at her, he felt almost young and free. She was so full of enthusiasm for life. And her smile, which always reached her eyes, was ever-ready. Oh, he liked this chit, too damned much.

She brought him back to reality when she reached for and touched his hand. “My lord, things do look bleak at the moment. I shan’t try to do you up brown with a round tale or two, but this afternoon, I discovered something I think might be helpful to you in the future.”

“So,” he said, and felt a wave of sadness rush through him. He should have sent her home immediately. She shouldn’t be here with him, risking her all for a stranger. “You should go before your absence is discovered.”

She waved this off. “Nonsense. Everyone is asleep and no one shall discover I am gone, and even if they did, ‘tis Lady Penrod after all. She has always been there for me. Now, what was I saying?”

“That you discovered something this afternoon,” he said, marveling at her. “Which means you did have a reason for entering the demon’s den.” He hoped she saw the tease in his eyes.

She giggled and said, “Shall I demure and say that no, I came to be romanced and ravished?”

“Yes, at the moment, Naughty Ness, I think I would like to hear that.” His voice was husky and he was surprised at the level of desire he felt for the minx sitting coquettishly near him.

She was still on the straw. He dropped down beside her. She lifted a brow and a hand to her heart and said, “My lord, every propriety is offended.”

“But are you?”

“Alas, no,” she said softly.

He wanted to kiss her again, and it was with extreme effort that he stopped himself. She cleared her throat and said, “I came to tell you that I paid a visit to the vicar today. Sad to say, the good vicar did not hold you in high esteem.”

The viscount grimaced. “That is putting it gently. The vicar despised me. I offended his sense of propriety, you see.”

“Well, it was because you had the audacity to dally with Melony Fry and he held Melony in great affection. In fact, he wanted the poor girl for himself and she rejected him.”

“Did he? Did she? I would have thought she would jump at the chance to marry someone who could have provided her a living,” the viscount said thoughtfully.

“Obviously, she wanted someone else. Was that someone else you?” Ness asked casually.

He eyed her darkly. “No. She flirted with me, yes, but it never went anywhere. I always thought she had a tendre for someone, but I never knew who.”

“So, you and Melony were not lovers?”

“No, as I said, we passed a few idle moments…but, sweetheart…”

“Right, so back to the vicar,” she interrupted him. “There you were dallying with her in public and incurring his wrath and making yourself an enemy.”

“Yes, but I would not have...er…how was I to know I was stepping on the vicar’s toes.” He shook his head. “My beautiful sweetheart…”

She put up a finger and glared. “There, you have said it again. I let it pass before, for I suppose it is part of your cavalier fashion, but I am afraid it now rankles. I am not your sweetheart. We called a truce, you and I, and now must be friends.”

He inclined his head and restrained his quivering lip, but could not help nudging her shoulder and asking, his eyes full of fun, “And do you always allow your male friends passionate kisses, as you did me?”

“Well, in truth, I won’t say I haven’t been kissed during my London Season last year. I was most certainly kissed. They were handsome rogues…with a great deal of charm and…”

“They?” He found himself mildly irritated. “How many?”

“Hmmm…four, indeed, for I don’t count Henry’s kiss. He made a mess of it and only caught half my mouth.” She laughed. “But that is neither here nor there. I was testing the waters, curious, you see. Most of my friends are married and I have heard such interesting things about…shall we call it romance.”

He was enthralled by her. There was an innate honesty that glowed like a halo over her head, and yet she was absolutely no angel. He shook his head and chose his words. “And the kiss you allowed, nay, returned wholeheartedly to me? Was that curiosity?” He was aware of a breathless feeling in his chest as he waited for her response.

“Ah, how do I answer that? I don’t think I was simply curious. No. I can’t say that. What I will say is that your kiss was vastly different than the other kisses I have experienced.” She frowned and with a finger, indicated her wish to drop the subject as she added, “Nevertheless, I am not here for that. I have given you honest answers. I wish to help you and your sister, Mary, if you will but cooperate. We, you and I, need to draw up a plan of some sort and then carefully execute it, because, my lord, to date, your situation is not being handled correctly.”

“And you think you can handle it…er…correctly?” What sort of woman was this? No more than a child really, why would she put herself in such an untenable position?

“Well, yes. For one thing, I can do what a man cannot. I elicited the information from the vicar’s housekeeper that Melony had one very dear friend. Her name is Bess Widdons. Did you know her?”

He frowned and shook his head. “No, how should I. I scarcely knew Melony. She was a pretty lass who passed a few moments with me now and then when I came across her in town. Nothing more. But where does this lead?”

“You see, men don’t think of these things. A woman’s closest friend usually knows everything there is to know about her friend’s life and loves. When women put their heads together, we often confide our expectations, our hopes, our loves, and love’s disappointments. Do you not see?”

“You think Melony knew her killer and her friend would know his name?”

“It is my hope because I think her killer was the father of her child,” Ness said without blushing. “I tried to find Bess today, but I think she is in hiding. I shall keep trying.”

“Why do you think so?”

“Because her family…her servant was not helpful about her whereabouts and yet unconcerned about where she might be.” She pushed herself forward and shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I shan’t give up and if I have to shake it out of her, I will have the name of Melony’s lover, for depend upon it, he is a cold-blooded killer who looked to put his crime at your door. Unconscionable.”

As she started to rise, he couldn’t stop himself and his large hand went to hers. He turned her in the straw to face him and her blue eyes seemed to bore right into his soul. Her expression was one peculiar to herself. It spoke volumes and he smiled. “No, have no fear, I don’t mean to take what you don’t want to give.”

She demurely looked into her lap and said, “What then?”

“Why, my Naughty Lady? I want to know why.”

“Why what, my lord?”

“Why are you going to such trouble over me?”

“Over you? I don’t know that I am going to any trouble over you precisely, though certainly, I think I like you and that is something. However, you have a sister, and if I believe that you have been used in this plot as you say you have, as I believe you have, then I am afraid your sister is in danger.”

“Then your efforts are for Mary?” He found himself anxious for her response. What was wrong with him?

Ness only smiled.

* * *

Lady Vanessa Grey had waltzed her way through two London Seasons, received offers that she was able to neatly, and without hurt, turn down. She had been hailed the incomparable, a diamond of the first water, and a wit. Yes, she was titled Naughty Lady Ness, but it was her heart and her fortune that had made the beau monde deem her thusly with affection. 

She did not play games. She was always sincere in her dealings with others. Even so, his husky voice asking such a leading question sent her into an internal flurry of emotion. She couldn’t laugh it off, and she didn’t want to look into her heart and give him a candid response. He was a rogue with the ladies. If she allowed herself to fall into his dark eyes and lose herself, she would be lost, and end with a broken heart.

How could she blurt out that she hadn’t even met his sister yet and every effort had been for him…for him, and that she didn’t want to investigate why—not now. She said, “You thought I came here tonight because the Naughty Ness wanted some excitement. Perhaps that is it. What else is there to do in Cornwall, after all?”

He got to his feet before her and put out his hand. She gave it to him and he pulled her up and into his arms. “Is that so, Naughty Ness?”

His mouth closed on hers and she allowed it. His tongue gently probed and taught her a new dance that sent a rush of heat through her body and melted her knees all over again. He held her tightly to him so she did not fall when that kiss turned into another.

Stop him, Ness, the voice of reason bellowed.

She pushed at his chest with more strength than she evidently needed for she nearly fell backwards, and would have had he not caught her around the waist.

He smirked and she glared at him. “Don’t be so smug, my lord.”

He retrieved her cloak without responding and slipped it around her shoulders. She felt his eyes on her as she secured her mare.

She and the viscount laughed as Shadow whinnied sharply when she was forced to leave the stallion who had been nuzzling her.

They walked in silence together down the narrow sandy beach and up the incline. At the top she tilted her head and gave him a half-smile. “May I beg a leg up, my lord?” She could have lowered her stirrup.

He looked long into her eyes, and she knew at that moment she was in danger of losing her heart. He said, “Cannot the indomitable lady find a way to scramble up her mare’s back?”

“I don’t think that is worthy of you, my lord. Indeed, this carefree life has stolen your manners.” She gave him an arched brow that said ‘two could play’. “If I have to, I could, you know. Make no mistake.”

He laughed. “I don’t doubt it, my beauty.” He put his hands beneath her bent knee and said softly, “On the count of three, love?”

The numbers counted, he hoisted her so she landed neatly and gently on her mare’s back. His hand rested a moment on her thigh. She felt her body clench beneath his touch. He frowned suddenly. “It goes against my grain to allow you to ride alone over the moors at this hour.”

“You, my lord, don’t have a choice, and I have a path I stay to. It is tried and true,” she answered lightly, but saw that he still looked concerned. “Rest easy, my lord. You have naught to fear. I shall do.”

“Then good-night, love,” he said.

“You shall miss me terribly if I don’t come tomorrow night, you know.”

“And why wouldn’t you come?” he asked with a boy’s grin.

“Because you haven’t asked me to, my lord.” She twinkled and teased with her eyes and her shoulders.

“I hadn’t asked you to come this night, my lady, but you came all the same,” he pointed out blandly.

She laughed with carefree abandon. “You are, of course, being quite horrid. Well then, I shall leave you to wonder about tomorrow night.” With a slight pressure of her leg, she moved her mare forward, and it was not long before she was out of sight and telling herself that she had somehow slipped into a world of trouble.