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be tossed around like a rag doll by fickle fate.
    Thus far her plan was on course, Skye reflected as she speared a thick piece of bread on a knife to hold over the fire. Indeed, her first encounter with Hawkhurst had left her feeling absurdly hopeful and that she could move on to her next step—rapidly improve their acquaintance. Regardless of whether their relationship could be based on a fairy tale, in order to decide if they would make a good match, she had to know Lord Hawkhurst much better.
    Yet he had countless secrets he was unwilling or unable to share. And even though she much preferredhonesty to subterfuge, she had to keep her legendary lovers theory secret for now. She would constantly have to pretend disinterest and hide the yearning inside her, for Hawkhurst would surely evict her if he knew of her romantic interest in him.
    It would be odd playing the aggressor, Skye knew. She had been pursued by countless gentlemen but had never been the pursuer herself. Thankfully, she had priceless advice to rely upon. Aunt Bella had wed three husbands and knew how to win a man if it came to that.
    Skye was melting a wedge of cheese when a soft footfall sounded behind her. The earl’s sudden appearance from out of nowhere made her jump, and she barely managed to bite back a cry.
    “I did not hear you come in,” she murmured weakly, raising her hand to her throat.
    “I returned through another entrance. Your servants are settled in,” he said as he hung his drenched cloak on a wall peg, “and I set your valise by the rear stairway.”
    “Thank you, my lord,” she said earnestly.
    “I see you have made yourself at home,” he added, glancing around at her preparations. She had laden a tray with china and cutlery and set tea steeping in a pot.
    She flashed him a rueful smile. “I might seem like a damsel in distress at the moment, but I detest being helpless.”
    His expression turned wry. “I would guess that you are rarely helpless. But it is unusual for a lady to know her way around a kitchen.”
    “My cousin Jack is frequently hungry. Growing up, I often kept him company in the kitchens in the middleof the night, so it seemed wise to learn to cook at least simple things.” Skye gestured at the teapot and plates of toasted bread and cheese. “I wasn’t certain if anyone would prepare your supper, so I made enough for both of us. Will you join me?”
    “I am not hungry.”
    She hesitated, wondering how much to press. She wanted to ply him with food and warmth, but she doubted he would allow it unless she disguised her intent. “Then will you please stay with me for a while? I would rather not eat alone.”
    Lord Hawkhurst gave her a long look, as if questioning her motives. But he shrugged and murmured, “Very well,” much to Skye’s gratification.
    “Will you take the tea into the servants’ dining room and bring the tray back to me? I want the cheese to melt a little more.”
    When he did as she asked, she piled the rest of their meal on the tray and let him carry it to the long dining table while she lit another lamp. Skye served the food, then waited until they were settled before commenting in a conversational tone, “I thought you would be glad I am staying overnight. If nothing else I will provide you company.”
    “I am in no mood for company.”
    “It is no wonder, shut in like this in this gloomy castle. It cannot be enjoyable living here practically by yourself. But some hot food and tea should improve your mood greatly.”
    His reply was another wordless utterance of disagreement.
    “You tend to growl a great deal, don’t you?” Skye asked.
    “What do you mean, ‘growl’?”
    “That low, grumbling sound of displeasure you make. It makes you seem excessively grumpy.”
    Hawkhurst raised an eyebrow at her frankness.
    “Fortunately I have had ample practice dealing with grumpy men. Especially Jack when he is starving or in his cups.”
    She gestured at the earl’s untouched plate. He