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his nearness did strange things to her belly, even as she tried to tell herself he was no gentleman.
    He put his hands to his hips and shook his head. “Not until you listen to me. I was merely going to propose that we cancel out that last distasteful memory with a good one. Of the
innocent
variety.”
    She paused, daring to look up into his eyes. Among the many plants around them, his eyes were as green as she had ever seen them. They were also sincere, holding not even the smallest hint of nefariousness.
    Heat licked up her neck, and she pressed her hand over her eyes. What he must think of her!
    “I’m sorry. I should have been more clear.” His voice was quiet, barely rising above the sound of the rain. When she didn’t say anything, he asked, “Miss McCrea? Are you quite all right?”
    At the concern in his voice, she sighed and dropped her hand. “I think,” she said wryly, “that I am destined to always make a cake of myself in your presence.”
    He smiled, tilting his head to the side. “If you’re a cake, you’re a rather charming one. So do you accept my proposal?”
    Though her first instinct was to give him an unqualified yes, she hesitated. Every time she was in his presence, she seemed to do or say something that she regretted. Perhaps it was best if she made her exit while they were still on good terms. She took a step back, distancing herself from his almost magnetic appeal. “So much has changed in five years, Lord Edgerton. I’m not sure that we have a single thing in common anymore.”
    “Then perhaps we should get to know each other as we are now. And I must say, it feels odd hearing you call me Lord Edgerton. I was always Finn to you, and I hope you won’t mind if I call you Cece once more.”
    Cece.
She drew a slow breath, savoring the sound of her name on his lips like fine wine. He seemed to know exactly how to cut through her defenses. “No, of course not.”
    “Excellent. And it’s only right that we both have the opportunity to redeem ourselves in each other’s eyes. That night at the Christmas ball, I had been so surprised, I reacted in a less than gentlemanly manner. I could have made things easier for us both if I had possessed the wherewithal to diffuse the situation.”
    He was being so sweet, the chances of her being able to walk away from him were waning by the second. She sighed and said, “So what is it you have in mind? How do you propose that we proceed?”
    “I thought perhaps we could spend the afternoon together, so that from now on, when I think of Cecelia McCrea, I can reminisce about the pleasant afternoon we spent at the Hall, at which time absolutely nothing of note took place.”
    The idea had merit. Anything that could erase the embarrassment of the mistletoe mishap from the forefront of his memory—and hers—sounded like a good plan to her. She smiled and extended her hand. “It’s a deal.”
    Instead of the businesslike handshake as she expected, he lifted it to his lips and kissed her ungloved knuckles. Her pulse leapt at the gesture, and when he released her hand, it took her a moment to remember to drop her hand.
    Finn’s smile was easy, much like the carefree grins of his youth. “Well, Cece. Where shall we begin?”

Chapter Four
    As ridiculous as Richard’s accusation was that Finn harbored some sort of
tendre
for Cece, the comment had given him something to think about last night. The truth was, before the incident, he had rather liked the shy, amiable young girl who was always getting underfoot. She had been surprisingly smart, sweet natured, and undemanding in a way that few of the privileged class were.
    And he was an unequivocal arse for letting the mistletoe incident supercede all that for the past five years.
    All this time, he’d never spared a thought about the continuing teasing she may be getting over the incident—only for his own. When it happened, he was older, wiser, and supposedly more mature than she. He should have taken