He was about to make his way across the hall when a familiar voice made him pause. He turned to look toward the grand staircase, where a small group was descending from the restaurant above. Petra Rutherford was in front, her head turned to the woman just behind her. She radiated vivacity and he remembered how that had been the first thing he’d noticed about her ten years ago, when she had caught his eye flinging herself into the steps of the Eightsome Reel in the ballroom of the Assembly Rooms in Bath, her sparkling hazel eyes laughing up at her partner, strands of that richly hued copper hair escaping its pins with the liveliness of the dance. She hadn’t grown any taller since then, he thought with a half smile. She was still small but vivid, impossible to ignore or completely forget.

He stepped to the bottom of the staircase, one hand resting on the domed newel post as he waited for the party to reach him.

“Miss Petra Rutherford,” he said, with a bow. “What a delightful surprise . . . twice in one day.” Before she could gather her wits to respond, he had raised her hand, brought it to his lips, and then held it as she stepped off the stair and into the hall. “Gentlemen, ladies.” He inclined his head in greeting to Petra’s companions. “A good dinner, I hope.”

“Excellent, thank you, Granville,” Jonathan said. “Are you dining here yourself?”

“No, just meeting some friends in the bar,” Guy answered, gesturing to the group across the hall. “I heard your voice, Petra, and had to say hello.”

“Hello, Guy,” Petra responded as coolly as she could. She still felt the residual pressure of his hand as he’d held on to hers a little too firmly and for just a moment longer than necessary, and she was for a moment unable to think of what to say next.

When it seemed she had nothing further to say, Guy offered a general good night and turned to make his way over to his friends.

“That wasn’t very friendly, my dear,” Rupert said with a slight raised eyebrow. “Has Lord Ashton offended you?”

Petra shrugged and laughed lightly. “Oh, years ago he did, and I haven’t seen him to talk to since then, except this afternoon and just now.” She shook her head. “I haven’t decided whether I still dislike him as intensely as I used to.” She watched Guy’s arrival at his friends’ table. A strikingly tall, elegant woman offered a languid hand in greeting and he raised it to his lips before bending to kiss her cheek. There was something about the seemingly ordinary salutation that sent prickles along Petra’s spine.

“Who’s that? The woman with Guy? Does anyone know?”