Immediately, she wished she could knock her head against the tree. Not a polite Hello, how are you, I haven’t seen you in ten years. No, she’d blurted out the first words that came to mind.

And, good heavens, she’d just asked an earl to soil his hands by hefting an axe.

“Miss Barrow.” Lord Whitmore grasped the handle of the axe and wrenched it free of the wood. For a moment, he stood, eyeing the blade. “Are you planning to use this against me if I give it back to you?”

“Now, why would I do that?” She tried to behave as though nothing were wrong. Her heartbeat galloped in her chest, her face burning with embarrassment.

“Because I left you and never said goodbye.” He leaned the axe against the fallen trunk.

“Oh. That.” She waved her hand, as though he hadn’t broken her heart into a thousand pieces years ago. “Well, that was then.”

But it wasn't an idle memory from years ago. It was a secret part of her heart that she'd locked away after the Marquess of Rothburne had caught them kissing in the stables. As the daughter of a baron, he didn't consider her worthy of his eldest son. It had been enough for him to pack Stephen off to Eton before the summer holidays had ended. She hadn’t seen him since.

“What brings you to Hollingford House?” she asked brightly. Pretend as if nothing’s wrong. Pretend that you're not at all breathless at the sight of him.

“I am visiting Falkirk. Escaping my meddling family,” he admitted. “I hadn’t seen you in so long, I thought I’d stop to pay a call. But no one answered the door.”

“The footman must not have heard you,” she offered. Because he lived over five miles away and had been dismissed last November.

Lord Whitmore glanced again at her fallen axe. “Do you require assistance with the wood?”

A lie poured from her mouth. “No, no. It’s fine, really. I was just…trying to see if I was strong enough to lift the axe.” Not because the house was freezing cold, and she desperately needed the wood to build a fire. No, no, that had nothing to do with it.

Whitmore looked as though he wanted to argue, but instead, he tipped his hat. “I am sorry I interrupted you at an inconvenient time. Would you prefer it if I returned another day?”

Don't go, please. But she pasted on a bright smile. “Of course not. If you’d like, I could make us some tea.” Her face reddened when she remembered that she was out of tea. “Or…if you’re too busy just now, perhaps another time.”

“Thank you, but I cannot stay long.” He glanced toward Hollingford House and frowned. “I came to invite you to a small gathering for dinner tomorrow evening at seven o’clock.”