He held her at arm’s length when they got inside their suite. ‘I don’t think I’d better kiss you goodnight in the way I’d like to. Not if I’m to keep my promise to refrain from ravishing you.’ He grinned and brushed a very light kiss across the tip of her nose. ‘Good night, Megan.’

She watched him go into his bedroom and it was a while before she realised she still hadn’t moved away from the door. She hurried across to her own room.

Was she sorry or glad that he hadn’t attempted to change her mind about them making love? She didn’t know. But it took her a very long time to get to sleep, and her body wasn’t feeling at all sensible. He was lying asleep only a few paces away and part of her wished she was with him.

But she had to tell him something before they got to that stage.

What on earth would he think of her?

The next morning, after a leisurely breakfast, they went out and walked round the Lanes together.

‘Very picturesque,’ he said, but he was looking at her not the shop windows.

‘If you like jewellery shops,’ she said lightly. ‘Which I don’t.’ She noticed a look of surprise on his face. ‘Why are you surprised at that?’

‘Most of the women I know love shopping for jewellery, or clothes or make-up.’

‘Not me.’

‘What kind of shops do you like?’

‘Bookshops. I can’t walk past the door of one. But we’re supposed to be going to the Pavilion today, aren’t we? That’ll be much more interesting than shopping.’

So they made their way there and she lost herself once again in the fascination of the Pavilion’s interior, with its long, elegant galleries and beautiful furniture.

After a while, she asked, ‘What do you think of my favourite stately home?’

‘I think it’s fascinating. Look at those chandeliers! Magnificent! It’s like a fantasy world.’

On this visit she found herself looking at him more than the magnificent décor. She could just imagine him in regency costume, black tail-coat and stand-up collar, with neatly-tied cravat and knee-breeches. Shades of Mr Darcy and Pride and Prejudice!

He clipped one arm round her waist to pull her out of the way of two American tourists and she forgot about everything, but the warmth of his arm. ‘Your eyes have gone all dreamy,’ he murmured. ‘What were you thinking about?’

‘Oh, nothing much. Just – um, imagining a scene from one of Jane Austen’s books.’

‘I’ve not read them, but I enjoyed the TV series.’

She looked at him in surprise. ‘You did?’

‘Yes. Jane must have had a fine sense of the ridiculous.’