“Good morning, sir. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

He looked up from his task, his face resembling a wrinkled prune. “This parlor is reserved. So if you’ve come to flap your eyelashes at His Grace, you’ll be as disappointed as the last five twittering girls. I’ll allow no one to disrupt his breakfast.”

His Grace? In America, she’d only heard the appellation used to address an archbishop. Since she would bet her last penny that the toplofty gentleman of the previous evening was no religious cleric, perhaps the parlor was being used by a different guest today. Why that should disappoint her, she didn’t care to examine.

“I’m looking for someone else.” Walking forward, she twitched up the long linen cloth to peek under the table. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or upset that Leo wasn’t hiding there.

Where was he?

“See here, miss! You mustn’t be touching His Grace’s table.”

“Forgive me. Have you perhaps seen a six-year-old boy with sandy hair?”

“If I had, I’d have sent the naughty child away. Begone with you, now!”

The peevish old gent came toward her, waving a linen napkin to shoo her out of the parlor. He looked so unreasonably sour that Natalie couldn’t resist gliding to the doorway and then pivoting to flash him her most dazzling smile. “I’m sorry to have troubled you, sir. I hope you have a very pleasant day.”

The door closed in her face. What a curmudgeon! It was just as well that Leo hadn’t come here and encountered the snooty servant. But that still left her fretting about where the boy might be. She had to locate him before the mail coach arrived to carry them the remainder of their journey. Ever since the ship had landed at Southampton a few days ago, she had learned that the Royal Mail adhered to a very strict schedule and waited for no one.

A quick check of her pocket watch told her that not as much time had elapsed as she’d feared. She had over an hour in which to find Leo, eat breakfast, and convey their baggage downstairs. Still, she had come to learn that any activity involving a child tended to take longer than expected. And if they weren’t ready to depart on time, they risked being stuck at this inn for another day.

Spurred into action, she spun around and ran smack into a solid wall.

A gasp choked her throat. In swift succession, she noted that the wall was actually a man’s chest, that he was garbed in a fine blue coat and snowy cravat with a diamond stickpin, and that his clean male scent held a tantalizing familiarity.

Glancing up sharply, she realized that it was him. The gentleman from the previous evening.

He gripped her upper arms to hold her steady. Her own hands somehow had landed on his broad shoulders. Natalie had to tilt back her head slightly to look at him, an unusual circumstance since she matched the average man in height. Those eyes were even more spellbinding from up close. They were the gray of the stormy Atlantic in winter, though at the moment she detected a gleam of warmth in them.