Not for the first time that evening, her heart picked up a frantic cadence; this time, however, it wasn’t fear that lent the organ an extra beat.

But then gone as quickly as those flights of fancy in her head that she may as well have imagined it.

Val turned his attention to the floor, and squatting down, he proceeded to gather up the collection of logs that littered the patio and foyer floor.

Joining him on the floor, she set herself to helping. All the while, Horace stepped deeper into the foyer, sniffing the walls and the edge of the stairs before settling himself against a corner. “Whatever is this?” she asked perplexedly.

“Wood,” Val muttered as together they filled his arms with the logs.

“Yes, I see that. What are you doing with it?” she asked when they’d picked up the last of the wood and he’d straightened.

“I’m heating your household.”

Still kneeling on the floor, she remained motionless, unable to stand.

Her heart stilled, and for the first time since her family had gone and she’d awakened to find herself in the freezing house, warmth filled her; it slipped throughout her being, touching on every corner.

He’d come with . . . fuel. Because he knew she was alone. Because he knew she was cold.

Nay, not just that. He’d seen her.

For the first time in mayhap the whole of her life, she’d been seen. Nor had it been her family or the ladies she’d spent years with at Mrs. Belden’s.

Rather, it was him.

Val.

She’d been unseen so long—mayhap forever—that she’d not known what it was to have another person look at her and truly . . .

Val shoved the door shut with the heel of his boot, the panel thumping loud, and he turned a familiar glare on her. “Where in blazes are your rooms?”

That surly, more than slightly angry snarl broke across the dizzying romantic haze that clung to her vision.

Myrtle jumped up. “My chambers?” she squeaked, a palm coming up to her heart, which had resumed its familiar race wherever this man was concerned.

He narrowed his eyes. “Rest assured, I’ve no intention of taking advantage of you, Myrtle.”

“I didn’t think that,” she said on a rush. He would have had to desire her in some small way, and yet, she didn’t think he was capable of anything more than a grand annoyance where she was concerned. Nor, for that matter, did she think he was capable of taking advantage of anyone. “If you’ll follow me?”

She led the way. Val followed silently.

The moment they reached the Corner Parlor, he stepped inside and came to a complete stop. “This isn’t a bedchamber.”

“No.”

He stared at her, and Myrtle clarified, “This is where I’m sleeping.”

“This is where you’re sleeping?” he echoed.

She nodded. “Yes, here.”

“Here?”