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on a table hastily cleared by the young woman. “The current Peerage, ma’am.”
    “And what do you expect me to do with them, young man?”
    “Why, you were quite determined yesterday in the lending library to borrow them and bring them home with you. I thought to make your task easier by bringing them straight away.”
    “All of them? Why would I need all of them?”
    Sir Hugh felt decidedly aggrieved. “Not knowing what your research involved, I could not very well choose a particular volume, ma’am. Perhaps you would like me to carry off those which do not interest you?”
    Miss Longstreet’s countenance took on a crafty expression and she snapped, “That’s none of your business. But I won’t have them in here—nasty, dusty old books.”
    “I assure you they are the current edition, and unlikely to be the least bit dusty.”
    “No, no, of course they aren’t.” Miss Armstrong wished she could fan herself to subdue the color that she could feel suffusing her cheeks. Her aunt’s handsome godson had come back to see them after all! Just when she’d quite made up her mind she’d never see him again! She started toward the pile of books. “I’ll take these into the study, shall I, Aunt Longstreet?”
    “You may put them in the kitchens for all I care,” that curmudgeonly lady retorted.
    “Let me,” Sir Hugh insisted, as he once again gathered the volumes in his arms.
    Nell led him down the hall to a room on the left, whose door she pushed open with a certain reluctance. “The thing is, you see, that we have taken the house furnished, and I should very much dislike having your volumes lost among those of the owner.”
    She hastened into the room and swept a small stack of leather-bound books from the large central table and onto a high stool which stood near it. “I will do my utmost to see that they are well cared for, Sir Hugh, and that they are returned to you in good time.”
    “There’s not the least need for any speedy return of them. I believe I ordered them when my sister’s child was born, just curious as to one branch of his ancestry, don’t you know.”
    “We met your sister and little Walter this morning.”
    “Did you? Where?”
    “Why, here. She came to call.”
    “Did she, by God!” Sir Hugh flushed. “Begging your pardon, Miss Armstrong. I hope she was not impertinent.”
    “Now why should you think that?” Nell closed the study door behind them. “Aunt Longstreet was a trifle overbearing, I fear, and your sister is not accustomed to her ways.”
    Sir Hugh paused in the hallway, his gaze intent on the young woman’s face. “Emily can be—ah—curious to the point of incivility at times. I trust you will not allow her to browbeat you in any way.”
    “Your sister is charming, Sir Hugh. And the baby is delightful. Did you know that she transports him about in a wagon? How very clever of her.” Feeling a bit breathless, Nell reached for the doorknob to the parlor door, but Sir Hugh stayed her hand. Her breathing stopped altogether.
    “A moment. You alarm me by your evasiveness, Miss Armstrong. I suspect that my sister offended you, and I am very sorry for it.”
    His insistent manner startled her from her preoccupation with his physical nearness. With her gaze fully on his, she said, “You needn’t be, for Mrs. Holmsly did not offend me in any way. Perhaps it is my own reserved manners which are confounding you, Sir Hugh. I am a solitary person by nature and not given to confidences. You must not read so much into my discretion.”
    “Now I am even more concerned,” he insisted, his brows drawing down into a full-blown frown. “Trust me to have a word with my sister, ma’am. I assure you she means not the least harm.”
    “Truly, I am well aware of that, Sir Hugh.” She reached again for the doorknob and this time grasped and turned it now quite unaffected by his being partially in her way. “There is no need for you to distress yourself, I assure you.”
    Sir