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important.
    But Julian was
out walking with his nursemaid and cousins, she was told. The
master, added the parlour maid, was in the drawing room, her tone
indicating that this was where Olivia should direct her footsteps.
Not towards a crowd of unruly little boys.
    Arriving at
the doorway at the very same moment as Mr Atherton only added to
her awkwardness, compounded by his seeming inability to address her
coherently. Lord, what must he think of her forwardness last night?
she wondered.
    ‘I trust you
slept well, Mrs Templestowe,’ he began, the colour burning his
cheeks as he cast his gaze downwards, stubbed at a mark on the
carpet with the toe of his boot and added in a burst of
frustration, ‘ Must I call you that?’
    Dispersing her
tension with a small laugh, Olivia replied with a wry smile, ‘I
think the outrageous manner in which I impinged upon your
hospitality last night affords you the right to call me Olivia, if
you prefer.’
    For a moment
their gazes locked, then they both laughed. It cleared the air, Max
offering his arm to Olivia to lead her into the room just as Amelia
made her entrance.
    With the most
cursory of greetings for his sister, Mr Atherton’s gaze returned to
Olivia’s face as he took his seat beside her, murmuring, ‘Did I
tell you, Olivia, that I’ve made you an appointment to come walking
with me after breakfast? There’s something I want to ask you.’
There was a gentle, teasing note in his voice which made Olivia
want to lean towards him and caress his cheek as she entered into
the spirit of light-hearted banter.
    Instead, she
felt dread take root at the look in his eye: a mixture of
admiration and affection.
    Fatal.
    ‘I think you
are a fraud, Olivia, for I can detect no sign of a limp, I’m
pleased to note,’ he said, casting first his sister, then Olivia, a
broad, self-satisfied smile before tucking into a large helping of
smoked haddock.
    Olivia no
longer had an appetite. Oh yes, she was a fraud. But as long as he
failed to detect this she and her son had a future together.
    Their
post-breakfast walk was a gentle stroll around the rose bushes and
the matter which Max wished to broach was Olivia’s attendance at a
house party he was hosting in three days’ time.
    ‘Please, will
you continue under my roof in the meantime?’
    His look was
full of entreaty. She tried to resist it, tell herself it was far
safer to leave immediately. She couldn’t afford to further her
acquaintance with Mr Atherton. She had to invent an excuse which
precluded it.
    But she could
think of no suitable objection, other than an objection to the
insistent voice of reason in her head.
    Quite simply,
she wanted to enjoy his company for as long as she could.
    When had she
last put her head on a pillow – much less a man’s chest, God
forbid! – and fallen into a sweet and dreamless sleep? When had she
last felt so light with happiness at the mere caress or squeeze of
a man’s hand?
    For the moment
she ignored the truth of the matter, which was that she had to
leave. Soon. Before she was in so deep she was doomed.
    ‘What am I to
wear to the ball if I’m not to appear like some little dormouse
dragged in by your cat?’
    He weighed
this up with a frown, turning and clasping both her hands in his.
‘Rather, some enchanting little squirrel,’ he said, finally. ‘At
least, that’s the impression you gave me when I dragged you out of
the mud during the storm. No! That excuse won’t wash with me.
Amelia can get her girl to come and measure you and work her
fingers to the bone so that you may step forth in finery that does
your beauty justice.’
    ‘Amelia’s poor
girl would never oblige your sister again.’
    ‘Do I really
look such a tyrant?’ He smiled, leading her along a path through
the manicured gardens towards the park. ‘I value my reputation
amongst my staff and the villagers and was merely trying to impress
you with my willingness to ensure all your objections are
quashed.’
    The