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frightening. With him beside her, she could tamp them down.
    From that one fleeting encounter, a friendship had developed and love blossomed. He’d proposed to her this last April, she’d accepted, and then as tradition dictated, he’d approached her father to ask for his blessing and to discuss the settlement. She knew the settlement was a necessary and wise part of the betrothal process, but she thought it might be nice if people simply got married and trusted each other to do the right thing.
    But the world wasn’t perfect, and men were known to be scoundrels. Her existence was living proof.
    “I’m going to miss you, Kitty.” Emily’s sweet face was caught up in a frown. “You won’t be sailing with us anymore.”
    “Sometimes I will. Farthingham likes yachting as well.”
    “Remember when we were on the ocean, and late at night, we’d sneak up to the deck and watch the stars?” Emily asked.
    The last time they’d done it had been not more than ten days earlier. “Of course, I remember.”
    “Out on the ocean, the sky always seems so big, and I always feel so small. Who’ll lie on the deck of the ship and watch the stars with me after you get married?”
    Kitty crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, wrapped her hand around Emily’s, and squeezed. “I will.”
    “But you won’t be with me.”
    “I won’t be beside you like I am now,” Kitty said softly, “but I’ll always be with you, Em. Every night, I’ll go into the garden and gaze at the stars and think of you.”
    “But you can’t see the stars in London. There’s too much fog.”
    “I’ll see them, Em, because I’ll be looking with my heart, not my eyes. And I’ll always see you, too.”
    “Promise?”
    “I promise.”
    Leaning over, she pressed a kiss to her sister’s hair.
    She did wish Farthingham would arrive. Without him to distract her, her thoughts kept returning to the man by the sea, how hard his body was, how hot. How dangerous it had felt to have his strong arms banded around her. She knew his scent, his taste, the softness of his lips, the roughness of his jaw.
    Taking a deep breath, she wondered where he was at this moment, where he spent his nights. Did he sleep on board a yacht? Did he sleep with a tavern girl?
    She almost laughed aloud. For all she knew, he was married, had ten children, and swam at dawn seeking peace from a hectic household.
    Only she didn’t think he was married, didn’t think he had anyone. A loneliness she couldn’t explain had emanated from him—something that went deeper than solitary swims.
    It was the way he stood on the shore—a defiance that had been born out of something she couldn’t identify.
    A knock sounded, snatching her from her dangerous thoughts. “Come in.”
    Her bedroom door opened slightly, and a young woman wearing a white cap, a dark dress, and a frilly white apron peered into the room with a smile. “Lord Farthingham is here.”
    “Thank you, Nancy.”
    Emily squealed and bounded off the bed.
    Closing her eyes, Kitty breathed a sigh of relief, issued up a prayer of thanksgiving. Farthingham was exactly what she needed to set her world back on its axis. Because he’d not called since she’d arrived in London, she’d begun to worry that he’d somehow discovered that she’d been led astray, that her doubts had surfaced, and that she’d been harboring impure thoughts.
    Following in Emily’s wake, she hurried out of her room to the stairs. The stairway’s landing was a balcony joining two sides of the house, meeting at its center to flow down into a sweeping marble staircase. While Kitty halted at the top to gaze down on her suitor, Emily continued on, rushing down the stairs, skidding across the floor, and coming to a halt in front of Farthingham.
    “Lord Farthingham!” Her voice, riddled with excitement and joy, echoed up toward the frescoed domed ceiling.
    “Hello, Moppet.” With a gloved hand, he tweaked her nose.
    “Did you bring me a