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her maturity lent itself more to “handsome.”
    He continued forward, craning his neck, and caught sight of the back of a frilly, ivory bonnet, its wearer nearly hidden amongst the throng of hovering servants. At that moment Lady Delia stepped aside and Lady Victoria’s profile came into view. His footsteps slowed and he studied her.
    Dressed in a pale pink muslin gown and a deep rose spencer, she stood in a swatch of bright golden sunlight, looking like a delicate spring flower. A brisk, sea-scented breeze courtesy of Mount’s Bay threatened to dislodge her bonnet. She reached up a cream lace-gloved hand to hold in place the ridiculous bit of frippery, which he supposed was the latest French fashion. In spite of her efforts, several dark curls escaped and blew across her cheek. He had the ridiculous thought that she resembled a Gainsborough portrait, captured in the breeze and sunshine, her features partially cast in shadow from her upraised armand bonnet. All she needed to complete the image was a field of wildflowers. And perhaps a gamboling puppy. At that moment she turned and their eyes met.
    His footsteps faltered, then stopped completely as he was hit by the same punched-in-the-gut sensation he’d experienced the first time he laid eyes on her three years ago. The breeze pressed her gown against her in a way that suggested the curvaceous, feminine form that had fit so perfectly against him would do so still. A golden shaft of sunlight highlighted her in a halo of brilliance that made her look like an angel, but he vividly recalled the deviltry that had danced in her smile.
    Unmistakable recognition flashed in her eyes, followed by a flash of something else that he couldn’t fully decipher, but that erased any doubt that she recalled the passionate kiss they’d shared. Then her features wiped clean of all expression and her eyes filled with a cool indifference that crept his brows upward. Clearly he’d not made a favorable impression on Lady Victoria. He wasn’t certain if he found that more annoying or amusing.
    Her gaze flicked over his clothing. Her lips pressed together and one of her brows inched upward with an eloquence that indicated she found his appearance about as appealing as something she would scrape off the bottom of her dainty shoe. Excellent. She’d been here less than two minutes and he’d already ruffled her feathers. He hated to be the only one thrown off balance.
    Suppressing a smile, he moved forward. “Greetings, ladies,” he said as he joined the group. “Delighted to see you’ve arrived safely. Your journey was pleasant, I hope?”
    Lady Delia raised an ornate quizzing glass and peered at him. “Dr. Oliver, a pleasure to see you again after all these years.”
    “The pleasure is mine, Lady Delia,” he said, offering her a smile and a formal bow.
    Her sharp-eyed gaze took in his disheveled appearance. “It appears some manner of catastrophe has befallen you.”
    “Not at all. Merely the result of a project by the stables which proved rather dirty work. I was just returning to the house to make myself presentable for your arrival, but I fear it is too late.”
    “By the stables?” Lady Delia’s eyes widened. “Were you there a quarter hour ago? Hammering something?”
    “I was. If I’d known your arrival was so imminent—”
    “Nonsense, dear boy. Wouldn’t want you abandoning your project on our account.” Lady Delia graced him with a dazzling smile, then said, “I’m not sure if you recall meeting my niece, Lady Victoria—”
    “Of course I remember Lady Victoria. I pride myself on never forgetting a face.” Or a passionate kiss . He turned toward her and found himself the subject of Lady Victoria’s bland regard. Certainly not the warm reception he’d received the last time they met. Probably upon reflection she’d relegated him a cad for stealing that kiss and regretted not slapping his face. Well, fine. That would make their interactions even briefer.
    He