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his mind. Yet he was determined to learn more about   Elizabeth . He was standing by the side of the room, momentarily alone, wondering how best to further his aim, when Caro materialized at his side.
     
      He knew she was near an instant before she stopped beside him and claimed his arm. She did it so naturally, as if they were old friends with no social barriers between them, he found himself responding to her in the same vein.
     
      “Hmm.” Her gaze was fixed on   Elizabeth . “I could use some fresh air and I daresay   Elizabeth   could, too.” Looking up, she smiled warmly, but there was a determined glint in her eye. “Besides, I want to separate her from that crowd. She really should do the rounds and widen her acquaintance.” Her hold on his arm firming, she arched a brow at him. “Would you care for a stroll on the terrace?”
     
      He smiled, careful to hide the depth of his approval. “Lead on.”
     
      She did, steering him across the room, with a few glib words extracting   Elizabeth   from her circle. Still on his arm, she swept them through the open French doors out onto the moon-drenched terrace.
     
      “Now!” Walking briskly, whisking   Elizabeth   down the terrace, Caro studied her. “Are you all right—is your throat sore?”
     
      “No. It’s truly quite—”
     
      “Caro?”
     
      The soft call had them all turning. Edward Campbell looked out from the French doors. “I think you’d better…” He gestured back into the drawing room.
     
      “ Peste !” Caro looked at Edward for a moment, then glanced at Michael, then   Elizabeth . Releasing Michael’s arm, she caught   Elizabeth ’s hand and placed it on his sleeve. “Walk. To the end of the terrace at least. And then you can return and practice by charming the general for me.”
     
      Elizabeth   blinked. “Oh, but—”
     
      “No buts.” Caro was already stalking back to the drawing room. She flicked a hand back at them, rings flashing. “Go—walk.”
     
      She reached Edward; taking his arm, head rising, she swept back into the drawing room.
     
      Leaving Michael alone with   Elizabeth ; suppressing a grin—Caro was quite amazing—he looked down at her. “I suspect we’d better do as instructed.” Turning her, he started slowly strolling. “Are you enjoying your summer thus far?”
     
      Elizabeth   threw him a resigned smile. “It’s not as exciting as London, but now Aunt Caro is here, there’ll be lots more happening. More people to meet, more entertainments to attend.”
     
      “So you enjoy meeting new people?” A healthy attitude for a politician’s wife.
     
      “Oh, yes—well, as long as they’re young people, of course.”   Elizabeth   pulled a face. “I do find ‘making conversation’ with old fogeys or those one has nothing in common with a trial, but Caro assures me I’ll learn.” She paused, then added, “Although I have to say I’d much rather not have to learn at all.”
     
      She flashed him a brilliant smile. “I’d much rather just enjoy the parties, the balls, the routs and not worry over having to talk to this one or that. I want to enjoy being young, enjoy dancing and riding and driving, and all the rest.”
     
      He blinked.
     
      Leaning on his arm, she gestured widely. “You must remember what it was like—all the fun to be had in the capital.”
     
      She looked up at him, clearly expecting him to smile and nod. After leaving Oxford, he’d spent most of his time as a secretary to important men; he had been in the capital, yet he suspected he’d inhabited a parallel universe to the one she was describing. “Ah… yes, of course.”
     
      He bit back an admission that it had been a long time ago.
     
      She laughed as if he’d been twitting her. Reaching the end of the terrace, they turned and ambled back. She continued telling him of her wonderful months in London, of events and people he didn’t know and had