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“I will dream of a specter in the night,” she agreed. “Whose kiss is a dangerous temptation.”

Alexander smiled. “Keep your eyes closed,” he whispered. “I will fetch your candle.”

“I have a flint in my pocket,” she said.

“Then you can relight it once I am gone.” He retrieved the candle and restored it to the candlestick she’d dropped, then placed the candlestick in her hand. He leaned closer, unable to resist touching his lips to her cheek once more. “Count to twenty before you open your eyes,” he murmured.

“Aye, sir,” she agreed, her lips curving in a smile that invited his touch.

Alexander surveyed her once more, knowing he would recall this vision often. “Sleep well, my siren.”

“And you, sir,” she whispered, then began to count.

Alexander did not delay. He fled on silent feet, ensuring there was no sign of him before she finished her count.

Before he had even left Castle Keyvnor—slipping out the unlocked window in the library, just as he had entered the castle—his decision was made. He would definitely go to London for the season, journeying there directly from Cornwall. He could not tolerate the notion of his innocent seductress being claimed by another man.

Back in his room at the inn, his arrival unobserved, Alexander removed the seed that Anthea had given him and once again rolled it between his finger and thumb. He could not deny that it had swollen a bit, a young root pushing against the shell from the inside.

The story was whimsy.

It was nonsense.

It was time to know for certain. He put water in the glass from his wine then dropped the seed into it, watching it sink to the bottom and roll to one side. He set the glass before the fire, having no expectations, and finally got himself to bed.

* * *

“Where were you?” Eurydice said the next morning as Daphne was getting dressed. Eurydice was lacing Daphne’s stays since Jenny was staying downstairs for the day. Her cold had gotten much worse andGrandmamanhad insisted. Nelson was withGrandmamanand Daphne was too impatient to wait.

But without her stays laced, Daphne couldn’t escape her sister’s questions.

She was sure Eurydice had planned it that way.

Daphne felt as if the entire world would know at a glimpse that she’d kissed a stranger in the night—or that she’d thought about him incessantly ever since—but was determined to keep her promise to that man. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I woke up in the middle of the night and you were gone. A clock was striking three.”

“I was hungry. I went down to the kitchen.”

“You should have rung for Jenny.”

“I didn’t want to wake her up for the sake of a scone.”

“You were gone a long time,” Eurydice said, showing the annoying persistence that was typical of her. Sometimes Daphne thought her sister could smell a secret and then she was like their grandmother’s terrier, reluctant to leave the matter until she’d unearthed the prize.

Daphne gave her sister an exasperated look. “I got lost. This castle is enormous.” It wasn’t precisely a lie.

Eurydice rolled her eyes. “It’s not that complicated.”

“Well, maybe I’m not that clever,” Daphne replied.

“Did you find the kitchen? Or did you just give up and come back here?”

“I found it. And there were some leftover scones from tea. I met Mary who told me a story about a magical ring.”

Eurydice perched on the bed to listen. “Here?”

“Of course, here! One of the gentlemen, Lord Snow, wears it and it’s supposed to banish ghosts.”