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before I left the country. I have an excellent steward as well as solicitor, both of whom look after my interests exceptionally well.”
    She paused after the first step. “Someone’s in there!”
    “Oh, yes. I neglected to tell you that I sent my housekeeper over yesterday. She’s assembled a corps of maids to give the place a proper cleaning.”
    Elizabeth tried the door, and it opened freely. They walked into a small, rather dark entry hall. Its only feature was a narrow wooden staircase. “Apparently, I own all the contents, but I daresay that’s not much. Not even a proper table in the entry corridor.”
    He was not used to stairways without family portraits painted by the great masters. To the left of the staircase, he stepped into the morning room. A parlor maid stopped dusting the wall sconces and curtseyed when she saw him.
    "Do carry on," he said, smiling at the youthful maid.
    “The light is good here,” Elizabeth said. “Would this not be a lovely place for the children’s schoolroom?”
    “I see nothing lovely about it,” he mumbled.
    She was hurrying into an adjoining room, then moving back into the entry hall, where he met her.
    “Shall we take a look at the basement?” he asked.
    They descended a still-darker stairway into the dreary, damp basement where the kitchen was located. She led the way as if this were her own house. To their left was a dark cell. “A wine cellar?” she asked.
    “It appears the previous occupants were not Quakers.”
    “Do you know anything about the home’s original owners?”
    “As a matter of fact, I had my solicitor look into the home’s history. It was built by one Jonas White for his family which included fourteen offspring.”
    “Then it will be just what we need for our widows!”
    He lifted a single brow. “ Our widows?”
    “Yes, ours. By so generously offering your property, you’ve become a major supporter of our war widows.”
    “You give me more credit than is my due. I am merely being accommodating in order to woo the mother of the next Duke of Aldridge.” Why in the devil had he uttered such words?
    Her eyes widened, and a most becoming blush stole into her cheeks. She spun away from him and continued along the corridor, poking her head into each small, dark room they passed. Choosing to ignore his words, she asked, “How can we re-purpose the wine cellar?”
    “Perhaps it can be an auxiliary larder.”
    She looked up at him in dismay. “I am surprised a duke knows about larders. I shouldn’t have thought you’d have any occasion to descend into the servant’s domain.”
    “But you see, as a lad, I was possessed of an insatiable craving for plum pudding and sweetmeats.”
    Her pale blue eyes sparkled with mirth. “Therefore, you had to sneak down to the kitchens for extra portions?”
    “Indeed. Miss Bull Face would most certainly have objected.”
    “Miss Bull Face?”
    He nodded gravely. “The governess who taught me my letters before I went off to Eton. Her actual name was Bullfinch, but I assure you our moniker suited her far better.”
    She laughed. “I perceive you’ve always been naughty.”
    He moved toward her, and she inched back, away from him, until her shoulders butted into the wall. A sliver of light highlighted her face almost as if she were a celestial being. He came even closer, and his voice grew husky. “Being naughty is much more fun than being nice, Elizabeth.”
    Then his face lowered, his breath became labored, and his lips settled on hers as his arms entrapped her.
     

 
     
Chapter 4
     
    When she realized he was going to kiss her, she was terrified. Her heart pounded. Fear spiked through her like a rapier’s point. She wanted to get away from this dark man whose mouth was crushing hers. Indeed, she tried to push him away, but her paltry strength was nothing against his.
    As the kiss deepened, her entire being was cast into a sensory whirlwind. She felt as if she were spinning faster than Scottish