He gazed steadily back at her. “No.” His voice went gruff. “I…I admire you. Very much.”

She compressed her lips to stop their trembling. She wouldn’t make a spectacle of herself. No matter that no gentleman had ever admitted to admiring her before.

“Must you go?” he asked. “Can’t someone else…?”

“There is no one else. My mother teaches at a girls’ school in Edinburgh. Some of the students stay on over Christmas, and she remains to chaperone them. She couldn’t leave even if she wanted to. It’s up to me to find out what’s happened to Simon and help to resolve things, if I can.”

He was silent for a long while. “Will you return?” he asked at last.

“I don’t expect so. Mrs. Bainbridge says there’s no point in traveling all the way back to Devon for only a day or two.” Clara had spoken with her again last night, and with Mr. and Mrs. Archer, too. The three of them had been excessively practical about the situation. “Which brings me to a favor I must ask of you. And you mustn’t feel obligated to say yes.”

He came closer, looming over her. It should have been intimidating, but it wasn’t. Quite the reverse. She felt protected. As if his presence could somehow shield her from the cares of the world. “What is it?” he asked.

“I wonder if you might keep Bertie with you while I’m gone? I can’t take him with me. That is, I could, but it would be very hard on him.”

“Of course.” He paused. “How…how will you…?”

“Mrs. Bainbridge has promised to bring him back to Surrey with her on the train. But she’s ill-equipped to care for him while she’s here. Bertie requires constant looking after.”

“I’ll look after him.”

She managed a tremulous smile. “Thank you. I won’t forget.”

“Nor will I.” He looked down at her, gazing into her eyes for a taut moment. And then he brought his hand to her face, tracing the line of her cheek and jaw with a gentleness that bordered on reverence.

Her pulse beat an erratic rhythm at her throat. She knew what was going to happen. Just as she knew that she could stop it happening if she wished it. All she need do was pull back from him or voice an objection. But she found herself incapable of doing either.

Instead, she listed against him. And when he bent his head and kissed her, her lips softened beneath his, yielding to his mouth with a sensual warmth she hadn’t known herself capable of.

“Clara,” he said. It was a murmured breath of enquiry. As if he was asking permission to continue

In answer, she twined her arms about his neck. Her heavy skirts bunched against his legs as she stretched up to brush her lips to his.