She whispered the words very softly. It was the first time she had ever said them.

She felt a sudden warmth rise within her and run through her whole body and she knew that this was what Lord Dorrington had meant when he had spoken of ‘the fires of Venus’.

How absurd she had been to think that she had no heart and that she could never be awakened to love!

No wonder Lord Dorrington had been amused. No wonder he had been sure that time would prove that such assertions were nonsensical.

Alyna drew a deep breath, then, almost as if a long hand was clutching at her heart, she realised that, while she loved Lord Dorrington, he had not in any way by word or action shown that he loved her.

He had indeed been kind – more kind than she would have believed possible for a man towards a distressed and hysterical girl. But that was not to say that his heart was involved.

Besides what could he ever have found in her to think her worthy of his love? She had been nothing but a nuisance!

She had thrust herself upon him, almost forcing him to champion her by threatening to take her life.

When finally, because there had been little else he could do, he had taken her to stay with his sister and become involved in a situation from which he could only extricate himself by marriage.

Elizabeth had told her that he had sworn never to get married because once he had been in love.

Again Alyna felt that sudden pain, a surge of jealousy that made her long to run to Lord Dorrington to demand his reassurance, to ask him if he did in fact care for her. Then she knew that was something she could never do. And even as she stared across her room into the semi-darkness of the passage that led to his, the communicating door at the end closed very gently.

She knew then that Lord Dorrington was awake, perhaps rising to go riding.

It was quite understandable that he should close the door between them and yet she felt as if he shut her out.

‘I love you! I love you!’

She wanted to cry the words aloud.

She wanted to batter on the door between them begging him to let her in.

Then with a sense of despair she knew that never under any circumstances must she reveal that she loved him.

If once he was aware of her feelings, might he make some pretence of reciprocating her emotion?

He was, she felt, capable of such a gesture simply because he was so kind, so courteous, and because to save her he had made her his wife.

He would wish her to be happy, but she knew with the knowledge of her newfound love that she could not endure his compassion.