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hope that such a fate can be avoided,” he said. “I assure you it cannot. Neighbors in the country invariably live in one another’s pockets. How else are they to avoid expiring of boredom? And I am to be at Hareford House for the next two weeks just as you are to be at Barclay Court. I am glad now that I decided not to return to my own home tomorrow as I had originally planned.”
    He spoke the truth and was surprised by it. Why on earth would he wish to extend an acquaintance with a woman from an alien world who disliked and disapproved of him? Just because she was dazzlingly beautiful? Or because he could not resist the unusual challenge of coaxing a smile and a kind word from her? Or because with her there might be a chance of actually conversing sensibly—about her life as a teacher? His conversation—and his life—had been far too trivial for far too long.
    â€œI daresay,” she said, “you will be busy with Miss Raycroft and the Misses Calvert.”
    â€œBut of course.” He chuckled. “They are delightful young ladies, and who can resist cultivating delight?”
    â€œI do not believe,” she said, “you expect me to answer that.”
    â€œIndeed not,” he agreed. “It was a rhetorical question. But I will not be busy with them
all
the time, Miss Osbourne. Someone might misconstrue my interest in them if I were. Besides, with them I have felt no moment of magic.”
    He smiled down at her bonnet.
    â€œI would ask you,” she said as their feet crunched over the gravel of the terrace before the house, her voice as cold as the Arctic ice, “not to speak to me with such levity, my lord. I do not know how to respond. And moreover I do not
wish
to respond. I do not wish to have you single me out on any future occasion. I wish you would not.”
    Dash it all. Had he offended her more than he realized?
    â€œAm I to look your way whenever we are in company together during the coming weeks, then, and pretend that I see only empty air?” he asked her. “I fear Edgecombe and his lady would consider me unpardonably ill-mannered. I shall bow to you each time instead and remark upon the fineness or inclemency of the weather—without drawing any comparisons with your person. Shall I? Will you tolerate that much attention from me?”
    She hesitated.
    â€œYes,” she said, ending their conversation as monosyllabically as she had begun it.
    Edgecombe must have observed their approach and was coming out through the front doors and down the horseshoe steps to greet them, a smile of welcome on his face.
    â€œYou
did
persuade him to come, then, Frances,” he said, setting one hand at the small of the countess’s back and smiling briefly and warmly down at her. “Raycroft—good to see you again. And Whitleaf is staying with you? This
is
a pleasure. Do come inside. Did you enjoy the walk, Susanna? And did you find Mrs. and Miss Raycroft at home?”
    He smiled kindly at the schoolteacher and offered her his arm, which she took without hesitation.
    â€œWe met Miss Raycroft at the fork in the road,” she said. “She was out walking with her brother and the Calvert sisters. We walked back to the village together and then on to Hareford House, where we took tea with Mrs. Raycroft. It was indeed a pleasant outing. There can be nowhere lovelier than the Somerset countryside.”
    Her voice was light and happy. Peter smiled ruefully to himself as he followed them up the steps and into the house, the countess between him and Raycroft.
    By the time he stepped over the threshold, Miss Osbourne was already moving off in the direction of the staircase without a backward glance.
    â€œYou will wish to entertain Mr. Raycroft and Lord Whitleaf in the library, Lucius,” the countess said. “We will not disturb you.”
    â€œThank you,” he said, setting a hand at her back again. “The vicar called. I