‘I am sorry I fell on you,’ the woman repeated.
Daniel stood and offered her his arm. She stood up rather too abruptly and he found himself face-to-face with her. Even in the darkness Daniel could make out the curve of her lips and suddenly he had an overwhelming urge to kiss her.
Without thinking of the consequences Daniel lowered his lips to hers, feeling the sharp intake of breath as she realised what he was about to do. He half expected her to push him away and storm off, but for a few seconds she stood frozen, as if too stunned to react. Then he felt her body melt into his.
It was the first time she’d been kissed, Daniel was sure of it, but her lips were full and inviting and Daniel knew he wouldn’t be able to pull away. He breathed in her scent and pulled her closer to him, revelling in the small moan that escaped from her lips as they kissed.
Suddenly she stiffened and Daniel knew the moment was over. Even though he’d met this woman only a few minutes previously he knew she wouldn’t become hysterical, just that she’d come to her senses. Slowly he pulled away, keeping one hand resting gently on her waist.
‘That... I mean... Well.’
Normally Daniel would have prided himself at rendering a woman speechless, but already he was beginning to feel like a churl. He’d just seduced an innocent young woman he had no intention of marrying. It went against everything he believed in, every code of honour he lived his life by.
‘That was unforgivable of me,’ he said softly. ‘I just couldn’t help myself. I wouldn’t have been able to resist kissing you even if there was a sword to my heart.’
‘I should go,’ she said, pulling away. Almost immediately she stumbled and Daniel sprang forward, steadying her so she didn’t lose her feet.
‘Can I at least know your name?’ he asked quietly.
It seemed like an eternity before she answered and Daniel had the absurd feeling that she might give him a false name.
‘Amelia,’ she said eventually. ‘Amelia Eastway.’
Daniel felt the bottom drop out of his world as Amelia slipped from his grasp and started to ascend the steps back to the terrace.
‘May I call on you tomorrow?’ he called after her.
He wasn’t entirely sure, but he thought he saw her nod her head before she disappeared into the darkness completely.
Lizzie was a bundle of nerves. It didn’t help that she hadn’t slept much at all. Every time she’d closed her eyes she’d been back in the Prestons’ garden being seduced by a mystery man. She didn’t even know his name. Even now she could feel the faint tingle of desire as she remembered his hands on her waist and his lips brushing her own.
She wondered if he would call on her, as he’d said he would. She didn’t know if she even wanted him to. She was torn. Half of her wanted to meet this man who had kissed her so passionately the night before, but the other half wanted to hold on to the dream. If he saw her in the light of day, Lizzie knew he’d realise he’d made a mistake. Perhaps it would be better if their dalliance was kept as something magical, something Lizzie could hold on to for the rest of her life. It wasn’t as though he would desire her once he actually met her properly and maybe it would be better if she didn’t actually see the disappointment in his face as he looked at her in the daylight.
‘Look, Amelia,’ Aunt Mathilda said as she entered the room, ‘these have just arrived for you.’
She was carrying a beautiful bouquet of flowers, tied with a red ribbon. Lizzie found herself smiling, wondering if they were from her mystery gentleman the night before. She hadn’t even found out his name, she realised.
She took the card from Aunt Mathilda and felt her smile falter slightly as she read it. No, these certainly weren’t from her mystery gentleman. The card was signed Mr Anthony Green and Lizzie found it hard not to shudder as she remembered their encounter the night before. She’d been introduced to many eligible gentlemen, both young and old. Most had been pleasant, although she suspected had been more interested in putting a face to the dowry than actually making her acquaintance. Mr Anthony Green had been repulsive. Not in looks—in fact, he was quite a handsome man in his early thirties—but in manner. He’d lingered over her hand just a little too long and gone out of his way to touch her upper arm at any opportunity. That in itself, of course, didn’t make him repulsive, but she’d found that he had spent more time ogling the fine jewels that hung around her neck than actually looking at her. And he’d spoken of her fortune and her dowry to her face. It might have been Lizzie’s first night out in society, but even she knew dowries were something that were whispered about behind closed doors. Mr Green had made it perfectly clear that all he was interested in was her money, and that he didn’t even think it was worth trying to disguise the fact.
Aunt Mathilda arranged the flowers on the windowsill and looked at them approvingly.
‘I’m sure you’ll be receiving many more bouquets, my dear, and hopefully a few gentlemen callers this afternoon.’
Lizzie saw Harriet’s eyes narrow at the idea of her receiving a call from an eligible gentleman, but Lizzie tried to ignore it. She wasn’t sure why Harriet disliked her so much on first sight, but she wasn’t going to provoke the situation.
‘I’m sure you’re glad you were sufficiently recovered from your illness to make your début now,’ Harriet said snidely.
Lizzie had tried to feign an illness to delay her coming out, hoping that Aunt Mathilda might let her stay hidden in her house until Amelia returned. She’d complained of a headache, fever and light-headedness, and had even gone as far as to hold the teapot to her cheeks before Aunt Mathilda came to check on her, but the older woman had sat down beside her, taken her hand and told her not to worry. She had seen through Lizzie’s ruse and put it down to Lizzie feeling nervous about making her début, so Lizzie had found herself hustled into her beautiful dress and into the carriage before she could even begin to think of another excuse to delay.
The door to the drawing room opened quietly and the butler, an elderly man with an unflappable demeanour, stepped inside.
‘The Earl of Burwell to see Miss Amelia Eastway,’ Tippings announced.
Immediately all three women stiffened. Certainly they had been expecting calls from gentlemen of the ton, but an earl was in quite another league.
Aunt Mathilda quickly crossed the room to Lizzie’s side.
‘You know the Earl of Burwell?’ she asked, her face drained of colour.
Even Harriet looked a little impressed.
Lizzie couldn’t answer. Had she met the Earl of Burwell? If so, he hadn’t stuck in her mind and she rather thought an earl should do.
Unless, of course, he was her mystery gentleman. Lizzie suddenly felt sick. Had she been kissed by an earl in the Prestons’ garden? Surely not. Surely that was something a girl would know. He’d seemed so nice, so normal, not earl-like at all. She felt her face flush at the idea of him seeing her in the light of day and wondered if she had time to escape. Maybe feign a swoon.
The door opened once again and a man stepped inside. Out of habit Lizzie found herself standing and dropping into a little bob of a curtsy as a greeting. Only then did she have the courage to raise up her eyes and look at the man she might or might not have kissed the night before.
Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened. Whomever she had expected to be standing in front of her it wasn’t this man.
‘You,’