Anastasia nodded and indicated one of the plump canvas pillows on the ground for him to sit on. “I will fetch you something to drink—”

“That won’t be necessary,” he cut in as he hobbled his horse a few feet away, then joined her. “Sit. I am intoxicated enough by the sight of you.”

She couldn’t have asked for a better response from him. She still blushed. She simply wasn’t used to this game of enticement, wasn’t sure how to play it. But she knew it was her only option, the only way that she could possibly get him to marry her.

She joined him by the fire. Close up, he was even more handsome than she had thought. Everything about him, in fact, was pleasing to the eye.

His clothes were elegant, rather than gaudy as some lords favored. The brown coat that came to his knees was embroidered only on the flaps of the pockets and the large cuffs; the wide skirt of it flared around him as he sat. His knee breeches fit snugly and, with one knee raised to rest his arm on, showed how thickly muscled his thighs were.

The gartered stockings were white silk, as was his shirt, though the only evidence of the shirt was in the ruffles that appeared below his wide, turned-back coat cuffs, and the frills of lace down the front of the shirt that formed his jabot. His body-conforming waistcoat was beige brocade, fastened with a long row of gold buttons, left open from hip to thigh to facilitate easy movement.

Many men wore corsets to improve the fit of these long, slim waistcoats—it was quite fashionable to do so—yet she didn’t think this one needed to. He was simply too tightly made, too physically fit—too big, but in a muscular way. She didn’t think he would allow any excess flesh to get in the way of his superbly tailored look.

He was staring at her again. She was guilty of the same, actually, couldn’t seem to help herself. Yet she knew they were being avidly watched. His two companions had been descended upon by the other women. Music had begun to play. One of the women was dancing one of their more provocative dances to entertain them.

But Anastasia was only barely aware of these things occurring in the camp, so thoroughly did the man next to her hold her attention. So she was a bit startled to finally hear his deep voice again.

“You mentioned services. I am interested in what service you, in particular, offer, pretty one.”

She knew what he was expecting to hear, knew that he would be disappointed if she told him merely the truth instead, yet she wasn’t going to lie to him any more than was absolutely necessary. Actually, she hoped she wouldn’t have to lie to him at all, for that wasn’t how she wanted their relationship to start. And she knew, suddenly, with the perfect insight that she was gifted with, that they would marry. She just wasn’t at all sure yet how she was going to bring it about.