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Wellstone.” She was a flirt, Miss Wellstone was. A charming, delightful flirt.
     
    “In fact, I am.” Moonlight turned her gown silvery gray. “Which you would know if you were ever at home.”
     
    “Another failing of mine.” He bowed. “I attend to duty before pleasure.”
     
    “I expect that of you.” She touched one of the roses, a bloom just beyond full. “It’s a lovely evening.”
     
    He put a hand over his heart. Because he was a damn fool. Because she was beautiful and alluring. “Exactly as ordered.”
     
    “For which I sincerely thank you, your grace.”
     
    “Might I ask what brought you out here at such an hour?”
     
    “This and that. Ginny and your brother have retired for the night.” She tilted her head.
     
    He completely lost his ability to see her as his sister’s unmarried friend. Untouchable. Beyond a man’s base desires. Before him stood a woman of flesh and blood, and he lusted after that woman.
     
    “I couldn’t sleep. I never can this early. I came out here because I wondered if I would still be able to smell the roses.” She drew in a deep breath. “I can. I’ve been standinghere these ten minutes or more breathing in the scent of your Gallicas.”
     
    Her features were exactly the sort of sweet and delicate form that made men feel a woman must be protected. No darkness or unhappiness should ever enter her life. Women like her were made to be spoiled and coddled and granted their every whim. He felt the urge himself, though he knew she was far from helpless.
     
    “We missed you at supper tonight,” she said. “Ginny seemed sure you would join us.”
     
    “I sent a note when I realized I would be detained.”
     
    “Yes. We received that.” She had a narrow nose, perfectly balanced cheekbones, and a tenderly shaped mouth. Head on or in profile, she was an angel. Her figure only added to his impression that here was a woman too fragile for her own good. His preference was for lovers who wouldn’t collapse into a heap at the slightest exertion. He was willing to overlook that with her. “All the same, your grace, that does not mean we were not disappointed.”
     
    “I beg your forgiveness again.”
     
    “Three times I have been called on to forgive you.” She shook her head and gave him a smile of mock ruefulness. “Now that
is
excessive.”
     
    Mountjoy moved closer to her. She was not unaware of her appeal, he knew that, but she had not been spoiled by it, as women sometimes were. A gold medallion hung from a long ribbon onto which were knotted several gold beads, spaced every three or four inches. In the dark, it was impossible to tell what color the ribbon was.
     
    “It is.” He wasn’t awkward around women. He never had been. Even in the days when he’d been merely a farmer with just enough prospects to call him gentry, women liked him, something he’d realized early on. He felt awkward now because he was attracted to her and did not wish to be and suspected he was not going to resist. “I’m sure you would rather enjoy the garden in solitude.”
     
    “Actually, no.” Her fingerless lace gloves matched themoonlit silver of her gown. Had she worn those to supper? He found the informality profoundly arousing. “I dislike being alone.” She gave him a sideways glance, and Lord, but her eyes were not innocent. She wasn’t flirting with him, he understood that. She was a woman, not a girl, and quite plainly knew her own mind and desires. “Would you mind keeping me company? At least for a while.”
     
    God, no.
Still holding his hat, he gave her a half bow. “I should be delighted to.”
     
    She laughed. “You poor gentlemen, obliged to accept trivial requests from we ladies even when you’d rather not.” She waved him toward the house. “Go on, your grace. I only meant to walk to that hedge and then back. I can tolerate my own company for that long.”
     
    Mountjoy stayed where he was. She’d given him an easy way to escape his