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feel like a grass-green youth, eager, impatient, bungling. In fact, I was seriously considering the possibility that you were a sorceress during my search for you because I don’t normally do things like this. Follow women. Pursue women. Sound like some gauche boy on his first assignation. So,” he softly said, “let me rephrase my question. Might I have another opportunity to spend some time with you? Private time. Very private time,” he said, sliding upright and reaching across the small distance between the chairs and taking her hand. “You fascinate me and I mean that most sincerely.” He smiled again in that boyish way that warmed his eyes. “Unlike you who prefers honesty, I’m seldom truthful at times like this. I am now. I have no idea why, but there it is.” With a gentle squeeze of her fingers, he released her hand and, shocked at his sincerity with this woman he barely knew, he sat back in his chair, mildly shaken.
    “That was very sweet.”
    He softly exhaled. “Don’t tell anyone.”
    “You don’t wish to put your prodigal reputation at risk?”
    “Christ, I don’t know. I don’t even know why I’m here.”
    “They must all be the same.”
    He looked up and fully met her gaze. “They are. You aren’t, of course, which is the reason for my discontent.”
    “If it’s any consolation, you rather stand out from the pack as well.”
    “Pack?” he said, a distinct coolness in his voice.
    “Surely you of all people aren’t going to take issue with experience.”
    He frowned. “How experienced?”
    “You’ll have to wait to find out.” His smile was instant and quite beautiful. It erased the coolness from his eyes, she noticed, and replaced it with that hot desire she’d seen when first they met.
    “You are a witch,” he whispered, “because I’m thinking about moving heaven and earth so I don’t have to wait. Name the time and place and I’ll be there.”
    “After your wife’s gone and your boy. If that’s possible,” she gently added. “I can see how you feel about your stepson. You don’t leave him often, do you?”
    He shook his head. “He’s afraid if I do.”
    She didn’t have to ask who frightened the boy after seeing Lady Dalgliesh in action. “Your wife doesn’t hunt, does she? Why did she come?”
    He should tell her it’s none of her business. With anyone else he would. “We have an arrangement,” he said, soft and deliberate. “Not much different from many noble marriages. You know how these country house parties can be carnal frolics once the lights go out. There’s someone here she favors.”
    “How do you live like that?”
    “I’d prefer not to, but”—he shrugged—“that’s the way it is.”
    “I’m so sorry.”
    “You needn’t be. I’m relatively inured.”
    “But constantly in need of distractions.”
    “Do you mind?” he gruffly said. “I’m not in the habit of discussing my marriage.”
    “Forgive me. I’ve spent the last ten years listening to children’s confidences. I’m afraid it’s a natural reaction—asking questions. Tell me, did they manage to unearth the fox?”
    “Not so far as I could see. I think the dogs found another scent.” How tactful she was. Unlike Violetta, he reflected when he shouldn’t. “I was off looking for you so I’m unsure of what happened. Did you know Parson Tollefson is fucking Lady Lambton? I almost rode over them.”
    “I thought everyone knew.”
    “I see I must pay more attention to gossip,” he said with a flicker of a smile. And then, obsessed or infatuated or maybe just curious for the first time in his life about something other than a woman’s willingness to fuck, he asked, “How old are you? It doesn’t matter. I just want to know.”
    “Twenty-six. How old are you? It doesn’t matter,” she mimicked. “I just want to know.”
    “Twenty-eight.”
    “You were young when you went to South Africa. I asked Fitz about you. You see, I’m equally captivated. You’re very