own past and he brought it swiftly back to heel. ‘It is the nature of the beast; it can affect our lives in ways we cannot begin to imagine.’
She turned her head to look up at him. She was so close he could hear the quiet sough of her breathing, and her scent—reminding him of sweet apple blossom—mingled with the night air until he felt full of her. He forced his hand from her and crouched down, feeling around in the damp soil at the edge of the lake. His fingertips found the smooth surface of a large pebble and he picked it up, smoothing his thumb over it as he regained his feet.
‘It is like the change a pebble makes when it is thrown into a pond.’ He tossed the stone high and long, aiming for the middle of the lake. ‘It sinks below the surface to lie unseen on the bottom, but the ripples it causes touch every inch of the shoreline.’
‘Yes. Yes, it is just like that. And I am on the shore, and the ripples are...oh, I don’t know...unsettling...disturbing...and they force me to acknowledge that even good changes...wonderful changes...can have negative consequences.’
‘And one of those negative consequences is how your brother’s marriage will affect you?’
‘Yes. No.’ A sound of frustration, like a low growl, emerged from her and Zach hid his smile at the idea of Lady Perfect growling. ‘I ought not to be talking to you like this.’
‘But you wish to—need to—or you would not be doing it. Life is more content if we all follow what we choose to do rather than what we ought, should or must do.’
‘If everyone did that, chaos would ensue. There has to be some discipline. Some law. Some obligation.’
‘Of course there must, in wider society. I meant on a personal level. You are so bound by the etiquette and rules of your world that you cannot look beyond those boundaries.’
‘That is easy for you to say.’ Bitterness laced her words. ‘But that is my—oh!’
Lady Perfect fell silent as a familiar ghostly shape swooped towards them. She did not scream as he feared she might. Rather, she watched, entranced, as the barn owl flew low across the pond, her flight silent, and landed on Zach’s outstretched arm.
‘What...?’ Cecily’s voice was a whisper, full of wonderment.
‘Lady Cecily Beauchamp, meet Athena.’
Cecily had never been this close to an owl before. Athena stunned her, with her heart-shaped face and huge dark eyes and the contrast between the buff-coloured feathers on her wings and back with the snowy white of her face and breast. Mr Gray took Cecily’s ungloved hand and raised it to the bird’s breast. Her fingers sank into the soft feathers, more deeply than she anticipated.
‘She is beautiful,’ she whispered. ‘Why is she so tame?’
Mr Gray touched the owl’s head with his forehead, then lifted his arm high. The bird launched into flight and glided away as silently as it had arrived.
‘I reared her from a fledgling.’ His hands cupped in an unconscious gesture, as though he remembered the finding of her and as though he still protected her.
‘How old is she?’
‘She is nine now.’
‘Do you keep other animals, Mr Gray?’
He rubbed his hand across his jaw. ‘I do not keep them. They are free to leave if they so wish.’
‘Will you tell me about them?’
‘Another time. Maybe.’
He began to walk back across the grass towards the garden and regret swirled through her. She followed him, hurrying to keep up with his long strides.
‘I am sorry. I did not mean to pry. I should not have questioned you.’
‘There you go again, with your “I should not have...”’ he growled.
He slammed to a halt and pivoted to face her with such suddenness that she almost cannoned into him. Her feet, still clad in her satin dancing slippers, skidded from under her and she reached out, clutching his lapels to steady herself. His arms came around her, hauling her close, and she found her cheek pressed to his chest, the steady beat of his heart thumping in her ear...far steadier than her own erratic heartbeat which flittered, soared and swooped.
‘Steady.’
His voice rumbled through her. His arms still held her captive, but they loosened a little, allowing her to tip her head back to look at him. His eyes flashed and a muscle leapt in his jaw as one hand slid lower and settled at the small of her back, fitting her snugly into the warm contours of his body. His breath caressed her skin as his free hand came up to cradle her cheek, his thumb drifting across her lower lip. Her breath quickened as his head lowered and, without volition, she rose on her toes to close the gap between them.
His warm lips were soft and smooth, exhilarating and yet soothing. She had only been kissed once in her life and the experience had been...forgettable. This...
Oh, this...
She pressed closer, slipping her arms around his waist, revelling in the sensual glide of his mouth on hers, lost in the moment. She tensed as his tongue probed her lips, but he murmured deep in his throat, a calming sound, and she parted her lips and let him in. Their tongues slid together as he entered repeatedly, exploring her mouth, delicately and without haste. An unfamiliar sensation gathered deep in her stomach, a growing ache of yearning...of desire. She settled deeper into his embrace, his male scent surrounding her as her pulse ran riot and her toes curled with pure pleasure.
It was he who ended the kiss, lifting his lips from hers and drifting them across her cheek. He nibbled her earlobe, then traced the outer rim with his tongue as she tilted her head to ease his access. Her wits were reassembling but, although she was shocked by her wanton behaviour, she felt no shame. His hands framed her waist and lifted her, setting her away from him. She resisted the urge to seek again the heat of his body, the security of his arms.
‘That should not have happened.’ The wicked glitter in his eyes belied his words.
‘Should not?’ she teased, even though he was right. Of course it should never have happened. But she challenged him nevertheless. ‘Why not?’
He barked a laugh. ‘That, my Lady Perfect, is a foolish question.’ He raised his arm, gesturing at the night sky. ‘Let us blame the magic of the moonlight and come the dawn we shall forget it ever happened.’
‘Did you not enjoy kissing me?’
He reached for her hand, holding it in both of his, playing gently with her fingers. Then he raised it to his mouth and pressed hot lips briefly into her palm before folding her fingers over as though to hold his kiss in place.
‘I did.’ His voice was low. Sincere. ‘But you know as well as I that a boundary was crossed. Until that moment, we were indeed fellow guests merely talking. Now...our consciences know the truth, but it can never be revealed to anybody else. Ever. It would be the ruin of you, were it known you kissed
