He looked much the same as he had the previous Friday evening—agitated, exhausted, and generally at his wits’ end. Unfortunately, his weary state didn’t detract from his attractiveness. The planes of his face were eminently masculine, from his straight nose to his pronounced cheekbones to his square jaw. The moonlight illuminated the light stubble on his chin and the golden streaks in his collar-length hair. His long, sinewy legs sprawled across the cab, and the muscles of his shoulders flexed beneath the stretched fabric of his jacket, making the interior of the coach seem rather intimate and warm.

“The drive won’t take long,” he said. “And, as you requested, I made certain that all the staff left for the weekend, and there’s nary a maid nor a footman in sight. They’re delighted to have some time off.”

“I’m glad,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Of course, that means we’ll need to fend for ourselves. We won’t have a butler, housekeeper, coachman, or, most importantly, a cook.”

“I feel certain we’ll survive the night,” she said with a smile.

The lights of town began to fade, and the landscape outside their windows changed from boxlike buildings and paved streets to lush fields and twisting roads. The farther they traveled from London, the more she relaxed.

For tonight, she wasn’t Miss Kendall, the unfailingly proper, ever-dutiful daughter of a destitute baron who would soon be betrothed to a marquess.

She was simply Sophie.

And for once, the possibilities seemed limitless.

At last, the hackney cab rumbled up a long, winding path, leading to a striking structure that appeared one part medieval castle, one part soaring cathedral. Gothic windows, a massive arched door, and a pair of pointed turrets probably would have made the manor house look foreboding to most people, but Sophie found it strangely beautiful and unique.

When the coach rolled to a stop, Reese hopped out and turned to help her disembark before remembering himself and quickly shoving his hands in his pockets. He paid the driver and arranged for him to return at eleven o’clock the next day.

The driver readily agreed, and as he drove off, Sophie realized that for the next twelve hours she and the earl would be entirely alone—a prospect that both thrilled and frightened her.

Chapter 9

Reese led the way up the steps to Warshire Manor—the house he still thought of as Edmund’s. Reese had lived there as a boy but had spent little time there as an adult—until three months ago.

That’s when he’d received a cold and carefully phrased letter offering condolences and informing him that his older brother Edmund had “succumbed to injuries resulting from a tragic hunting accident.”

The solicitor’s missive had requested that Reese return home immediately to see to his brother’s funeral arrangements, attend to several important estate matters, and take up his duties as the new Earl of Warshire.