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at him, and then she made the grand gesture of removing her hands from her ears and sitting up straight on her seat, her teeth clenched together tightly as she willed herself not to flinch even once for the remainder of the time it took to get that dratted drawbridge lowered.
    Once peace had again returned to the countryside (although it was doubtful the birds would return to the vicinity any time soon), Alexandra remarked with studied calm, “A bit of judiciously applied grease should remedy that little problem. I do not for a minute believe such a small problem to make much of a statement against such a beautiful place as this.”
    “Ha!” the Earl exploded. “If the drawbridge is to be considered a small statement , one can only wonder what you will call the remainder of Saxon Hall’s little inconveniences— The Complete Works of Shakespeare , perhaps?”
    The carriage had once again been set in motion, its wheels bumping heavily as they rattled across the drawbridge, and soon the coachman had halted the horses in the courtyard. Alexandra had the door open before Nicholas could move, and Harold had lifted her lightly down on the flagstones before the coachman could lower the steps. It was left to the Earl to follow as conventionally or unconventionally as he cared to do, and nodding his servant away, he vaulted to the ground without aid of the steps, landing lightly just inches from Alexandra.
    “Quaint American custom—this being lifted down from carriages. I really can’t see why we English ever bothered to invent carriage steps. But then not all of us have giant Indians to assist us to the ground or ankles strong enough to take the pressure of leaping about like demented frogs.”
    Alexandra was too nervous to reply to Mannering’s teasing. Now that she was actually here, within shouting distance of her grandfather, she was more nervous about the meeting than she cared to let the Earl know. There had to be a good reason why Chas left home more than a quarter of a century before and never once made a move to return. Had he really left of his own volition, or had he been tossed out on his ear by his father?
    She wiped her suddenly moist palms on her grey traveling cloak, a movement that did not go unobserved by Nicholas. She straightened her collar, pushed a time or two at her hair—just now blowing about her face in the wind—and took one or two deep, steadying breaths. “Let’s get it over with, shall we?” she said, her voice cracking just a little bit.
    Mannering looked down at her, for although she was fairly tall, he towered over her by a good head and a half, and suddenly his emotions were touched by her plight. She really had been having a hard time of it lately, he thought to himself. First her father dies, then she travels halfway across the world to keep a deathbed promise, not knowing what sort of reception she will receive at the end of her long journey. And then, just as though she hadn’t already enough on her plate, there was the final blow—her compromise under his roof last night.
    The Earl held out his arm to her and said, almost gently, “Let’s have at it then. And remember, barking dogs rarely bite. Just keep that adorable chin tilted in precisely that confident manner, let me do the talking, and perhaps we shall just brush through this without any permanent injuries.”
    Alexandra lifted her face and gifted Lord Linton with an absolutely dazzling smile—a smile that did something very strange to a small area somewhere near the pit of his stomach. “Thank you, my lord,” she told him earnestly.
    The Earl swallowed hard before replying, “Please, as we are soon to be married, I believe you may call me Nicholas.”
    The smile that had so nearly bewitched him disappeared, leaving him with the feeling that the sun had suddenly slipped behind a cloud. “We are not soon—or ever, for that matter—going to be married, Nicholas. I maintain that I fail to see the harm of spending a