She did not know why she should be embarrassed for them to know she’d overheard their comments; if she had any spirit at all she would stand up and confront them, but she worried that what Lady Cynthia said was all too true. And though she might wish to believe Malcolm was enamored of her, how could she know the true state of his affections?

  “Selina.”

  Selina looked up, startled, to see Malcolm standing above her, a glass of punch in his hand. She wondered how much, if anything, he’d overheard. Surely he’d just arrived? And Lady Cynthia and Lord Sylvester were not speaking that loudly. Perhaps he’d heard nothing.

  “Mr. Malcolm. Thank you for fetching the punch. I find myself quite thirsty after that lively dance,” Selina said, waving herself furiously with her hand before reaching out for the punch. She was shocked when Malcolm set it on the floor and grabbed her hands, kneeling before her.

  “Selina, please do not be dismayed by what you just heard.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Selina said, unable to meet Malcolm’s eyes and attempting to withdraw her hands from his grasp.

  “Do not bother to pretend. I heard Lady Cynthia saying that I was merely trifling with you and if I heard it, you must have heard it as well. It is not true, Selina.”

  “Isn’t it?” Selina asked, giving up on her attempts to free her hands and meeting Malcolm’s gaze. He did not look away.

  “No, it is not. I know that I have such a reputation, we have even discussed it before, but you have nothing to fear from me. I value your esteem too much to risk losing it. In fact, I wonder if it is not I who should be afraid.”

  “Nonsense. What do you have to fear?” Selina whispered.

  “It scares me that with the mere touch of your pretty hand,” he stopped and raised said hand to his lips, “my heart goes into strong convulsions.” He pressed her hand against his chest, but Selina’s own heart was beating so rapidly she could not tell if the staccato thumping she felt was his or her own. “Such a thing cannot be healthy, do you think?” Malcolm asked her. Selina could only shake her head. “But even more terrifying is the thought that as suddenly as you appeared in the library that night, you could disappear. That I could wake up one morning to find that you were ‘A lovely apparition sent to be a moment’s ornament.’ For you seem too perfect to be real.”

  “You worry needlessly, sir. I am far from perfect, and only too real.”

  “Perhaps I should feel the beat of your heart, so I can be sure of that,” Malcolm said, reaching out a hand toward her chest.

  “Mr. Malcolm!” Selina exclaimed, drawing back from his hand. Then she saw the laughter in his eyes.

  “It seemed a fair exchange,” he said.

  “You will just have to take my word for it,” Selina said, trying to refrain from smiling.

  “Hmmm. I suppose I will. For now, anyway,” Malcolm said, rising from his kneeling position and holding out his arm to her. Selina rose from her seat, too flustered to think of a response.

  Hadley Hall was less than a day’s drive from London, in the Kentish Wealds. It was not far from the Sussex border, so it would also be a convenient drive for Selina’s parents. Selina could feel her stomach knotting in anticipation as the carriage turned into the long drive that led to Hadley Hall.

  Mrs. Thistlewaite had fallen asleep, which in Selina’s opinion was a very good thing. She had fretted for the first few hours of the trip, convinced that she had left something behind but unsure exactly what. Julia and Selina had formed a tacit agreement not to wake her, and so the last portion of the trip was spent in silence. Selina herself was too nervous to fall asleep, and as the carriage approached the hall, she stared out the window in fascination.

  She saw a beautifully landscaped park and man-made lake, flanked by a Palladian style mansion in yellow brick. The enormity of the place astounded her, and when she was let down from the carriage she could only look around in awe. Mrs. Thistlewaite had finally woken up and she stumbled out of the carriage, followed by Julia.

  “Is it not impressive?” Julia asked Selina.

  “Indeed it is,” Selina said. “I feel like I’ve been transported to Rome.”

  It was an unusually hot day, even for July, and the weather contributed further to the impression that Selina had of having been magically conveyed to another time and place. Before anything more could be said, Malcolm came out of the hall and met them at the bottom of the steps.

  “I am pleased to welcome you to my home,” he told the three ladies, but it was obvious it was Selina he was delighted to see.

  “It is very beautiful,” Selina told him.

  “Thank you. I hope you will find the interior just as beautiful. May I escort you inside?” he asked, offering his arm to Selina, with Julia and Mrs. Thistlewaite following.

  He escorted them into the entrance hall, a fifty foot high room with a coved and coffered ceiling supported by alabaster columns. There were busts of Greek and Roman gods in niches around the room.

  “The ceiling is from a design by Inigo Jones,” Malcolm told them, and Selina managed a nod in response.

  The housekeeper had met them at the door, and Malcolm asked her to show the ladies to their rooms. “My mother is waiting in the saloon to meet you, but I thought you would like to refresh yourselves before joining her for tea.”

  “That would be lovely,” Selina said, and Julia and Mrs. Thistlewaite agreed.

  The ladies started to walk away, when Malcolm called, “Miss Dalton.”

  The group paused, and Selina turned back to speak to Malcolm. “Yes?”

  “Your parents will be arriving tomorrow,” he told her. He smiled tenderly at her, lowered his voice a little, and said, “I am very happy that you are here.” His smile was not in the least bit arrogant. In fact, he looked quite a bit more relaxed and contented than he’d ever appeared in town.

  “I am very happy to be here as well,” Selina told him, before returning to the group.

  Selina found herself in a very pretty room with a view of the lake. It was called the Blue room, and was papered in a blue and white toile with matching bed linens. There was a little window seat that Selina sank into once she had supervised the unpacking of her things and was alone.

  Never in her wildest imaginings could she have invented such a place. She had known Malcolm was wealthy, and even that he was the possessor of a fine estate, but the reality of those words had not made an impression on her until today. She suddenly realized what it meant to be the recipient of attentions from such a man.

  Selina had had a modest upbringing, but it was not a sheltered one. Her family was not wealthy, but neither had they lacked for anything, and they had enjoyed the patronage of Lord Musgrove, the owner of the living where her father served and a distant relation. She had felt as at home in his manor house as she had at the vicarage. Then, when she left the small village to serve as Mrs. Ossory’s companion, she had lived in an elegant town house, and was acquainted through Mrs. Ossory with gentlemen and ladies of wealth and prestige.

  But Hadley Hall was more luxurious than anything she had ever seen. So much wealth was intimidating to Selina. And the thought that Malcolm believed her to be a fit mistress for such a place was a humbling one.

  She heard a knock at the door. “Come in,” she said.

  The door opened. “Selina, it is time to go down for tea,” Julia told her.

  “Already?” Selina protested, but rose from her seat. “I was hoping I could stay in that window seat forever.”

  Julia did not reply for a moment, as she was busy looking around her. “I do believe your room is larger than mine,” she finally said.

  “Perhaps he wanted to put you next to your mother,” Selina suggested.

  “Perhaps,” Julia replied, but Selina knew that Julia counted it as another mark against Malcolm.

  Selina wished once again that her friend had not taken such a dislike to Mr. Malcolm, but realized it was useless to argue with her on the subject. Mrs. Thistlewaite was waiting for them outside the door and the three ladies were met by a footman at the base of the stairs who directed them to the saloon.

  The walls of the saloon were covered in a rich crimson velvet, on which numerous paintings were hung. The effect was quite opulent, but Selina did not find it to her taste. She preferred the classicism of the entrance hall and the elegant rusticity of her bed chamber. Before she could make any further impressions, she was distracted from her perusal of the room by Mr. Malcolm rising to meet them.

  Selina found her heart was beating uncomfortably fast as Mr. Malcolm introduced her and the Thistlewaites to his mother, Lady Kilbourne.

  Lady Kilbourne was a handsome, elegant woman of middle years. Her hair was now gray, but Selina thought at one time it had probably been as dark as her son’s. She had the same coloring as him, including his dark blue eyes. Lady Kilbourne smiled kindly at Selina, but Selina felt irrationally intimidated by her. She was too elegant, making Selina instantly aware of all the defects of her toilette. Malcolm’s mother sat straight-backed on the sofa, her expression hidden by half closed eyelids. The ladies were invited to sit, and were offered some tea. All of this was done in a languid manner, as if the whole process fatigued Lady Kilbourne greatly. Selina took some bread and butter, and then wished she had not, as she was too nervous to eat anything.

  “Miss Dalton, my son tells me you were raised in Sussex,” Lady Kilbourne said.

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “What part of Sussex?”

  “A small village near Chailey,” Selina said. She wished Julia or Mrs. Thistlewaite would add something to the conversation.

  “And your father is still serving as vicar there, I believe.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “And your mother? Are her people from Sussex as well?”

  “Yes, my lady,” Selina said a third time, feeling like the complete fool. “Her family’s name is Kingswater,” she offered, glad she was finally able to make a comment that was not in direct response to a question.

  “Kingswater,” Lady Kilbourne repeated, looking thoughtful. “I am afraid I do not know any Kingswaters,” she finally said, and took a sip of tea.

  Selina did not know how to respond. She felt somehow to blame for Lady Kilbourne’s lack of knowledge of her mother’s family. Thankfully, Lady Kilbourne turned to the Thistlewaites and began to speak to them. Selina was grateful for the reprieve and made an effort to eat some bread and butter.

  She made little contribution to the rest of the tea time conversation, which she thought was probably fortunate considering her poor demonstration of wit so far. After tea, Malcolm asked if any of the ladies would like a tour of the house.

  Mrs. Thistlewaite and Julia declined, mentioning they would like to rest before dinner.

  “And you, Miss Dalton?” Malcolm asked, looking at Selina.

  Selina looked over at Lady Kilbourne, who was smiling pleasantly at her, but still with her eyes half closed. “Yes, I would enjoy a tour of the house,” Selina said, rather hesitantly. She did not want to appear forward. “I have never seen a house like Hadley Hall,” she explained to Lady Kilbourne.

  “There is not another house like it,” Lady Kilbourne said.

  “Well, then,” Malcolm said, rising. “Shall we begin the tour?”

  Selina rose and excused herself to the others. Lady Kilbourne reminded them not to take too long, as dinner would be served promptly at seven.

  They began their tour in the Statue Gallery, a long, narrow room lined with windows that were filled with marble statues.

  “This is my favorite room in the house,” Malcolm told her. “When we have a large entertainment, such as a ball, we usually serve supper in here.”

  “It is quite beautiful,” Selina said, admiring the bright room, which was lit by the afternoon sun. It was a good deal less fussy than the Saloon, and Selina felt herself relaxing a little.

  They walked slowly the length of the room, pausing to examine a statue every so often. They stopped before one objet d’art for a few minutes, and Selina eventually realized Malcolm was observing her rather than it.

  “Are you sure you’re quite comfortable?” Malcolm asked Selina, when she turned to meet his stare. “You have not reinjured your foot, I hope?”

  “No, not at all, I am fine. Why do you ask?”

  “You did not seem yourself at tea. The only other time I have known you to act so curiously you were suffering from an injury.”

  Selina smiled. “I wish I could complain of an injury to my tongue, which might explain why I was unable to speak in anything other than monosyllables, but I do not have such an excuse, I am afraid. I was suffering from nothing more than a fit of shyness.”

  “That is odd. You have never struck me as the shy sort before.”

  “Well, you must admit all of this magnificence is rather intimidating,” Selina said, with a wide gesture that took in the room.

  “I can see how it might be,” Malcolm said, but when Selina looked up at him she found he was staring at her.

  “I do not believe that anything intimidates you,” Selina said.

  “Do I seem so fearsome a presence, then?”

  “Yes.”

  Malcolm laughed. “Oh, come now, surely you exaggerate. I cannot be that intimidating, my niece and nephew adore me, and they are only five and six. If I do not scare little children, there can be nothing in my appearance to frighten a young lady of—what, twenty-five?”

  “Twenty-two!” Selina said, a little upset that he thought her older than she was.

  “Have I offended you with my guess?” Malcolm asked, smiling at her dismay. “It is a little stratagem I’ve developed to discover a lady’s true age. If you guess too high, they will always blurt out the truth, whereas if you ask them directly, they are usually reluctant to tell you.”

  “You are very crafty. I can see I will have to be on my guard with you at all times.”

  “Not at all. I am unwise enough to give away my little secrets. You have nothing to fear from me. A true manipulator would not have told you that you had been manipulated,” Malcolm said, smiling in a manner that Selina felt was very manipulative indeed. She was certain Malcolm could get nearly anything he wanted with a flash of that smile.

  “I see you have worked this all out in your mind so that you have an excuse for any behavior,” Selina said.

  “Precisely. For example, if I tell you that I manipulated you into taking this tour so that I might steal a kiss, then I have not been truly devious, for I have admitted my design to you.”

  Selina felt her heart beating a little quicker, even though Malcolm had made no effort to touch her. Still, she managed a light response. “But then your plan is doomed to failure, because now I have been forewarned and I can protect myself from your advances.”

  “Is my plan doomed to failure?” Malcolm said, putting his arm around Selina’s waist.

  “Yes, of course,” Selina said, before melting into Malcolm’s arms.

  This kiss was altogether more satisfying than their first one at Lady Hartley’s ball. That night, Malcolm’s lips had barely touched hers, and his arms had been around her much too briefly. Now, she was ensconced in such a firm embrace she could feel the solid bulk of his chest pressed against hers. This time his lips touched hers firmly and remained there until she felt in danger of collapsing from either lack of air or because of the sudden weakness she felt in her lower extremities, she was not sure which.

  Before she fell victim to either, Malcolm raised his head. “You forgot to protect yourself,” he told Selina.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I gave you fair warning I meant to steal a kiss, so I cannot be held accountable for my actions.”

  “So you did,” Selina said, rallying a little. “I suppose then that I am forced to forgive you.”

  “Good. Because that is the last time I intend to warn you,” he said, and kissed her again.

  Selina was hard put to answer that evening at dinner when Lady Kilbourne asked her what part of the tour she’d enjoyed most. She intercepted a wicked glance from Malcolm, and could feel herself turning red.

  “I believe it was the Statue Gallery that you found most delightful, was it not?” Malcolm said.

  “I did enjoy the Statue Gallery,” Selina said, before realizing how Malcolm would interpret her words. “That is, I found the Statue Gallery most pleasing.” Malcolm’s grin widened. “The marbles were exquisite,” Selina said, thankful she had finally said something that could not be misinterpreted by Malcolm.

  “And which figure did you most admire?” Malcolm asked her.

  “Jeremy!” his mother chided him. “Can’t you see you are embarrassing Miss Dalton?” Lady Kilbourne turned to Selina. “Do not worry, Miss Dalton. You are not the first to find the statues somewhat shocking. While my sister was alive she gave a tour of the house and one of the ladies later said that it was a pity that there was not some contrivance that could be hit upon to conceal the nudity of the males, for lady spectators were rather nonplussed when viewing them.”

  Selina smiled at Lady Kilbourne, thankful that she had come to her defense, even though it was not the statues she found embarrassing, but rather Malcolm’s veiled references to the kisses he’d stolen.

  However, Selina’s modesty seemed to impress Lady Kilbourne (or perhaps it was her ability to converse in full sentences that did the trick), because Lady Kilbourne seemed to unfreeze toward her by the time dinner was over. When everyone retired to the drawing room after dinner, Lady Kilbourne requested that Selina play for them.

  “My son tells me you’re quite an accomplished young lady,” Lady Kilbourne said, smiling at Selina.

  Selina acquiesced with good grace, although she hurried to suggest Julia as the next performer once she’d played her piece. It was obvious to Selina that Julia was becoming irritated with all the special attention that Selina was receiving from Lady Kilbourne and her son.