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When the bells rang for church at St. David’s, the bud burst into a blossom. Alexander could almost hear the petals unfurling. They were as red as blood and the flower was as wide as his palm. Rupert swore and took a step away from the vine. Alexander could only take its blooming as a sign. He plucked the deep red flower and tucked it into his buttonhole.

It had a most enchanting perfume, and one deep breath of it reminded him of the fire in a certain damsel’s kiss.

* * *

There was no man at breakfast who might have been the mysterious stranger Daphne had met in the night. The gentlemen were fine, but not a one was the right height and breadth, had the right hands or the same wondrous blue eyes. None of them gave her more than a passing glance.

Who was he?

Wherewas he? Daphne supposed he could have been a servant or another guest who had not yet come down for breakfast. What had he been doing in the corridor at such an hour? The more she considered it, the more details she recalled. He had been dressed all in black, but he hadn’t worn a nightshirt. No, he had been dressed in breeches and boots, with a great cloak.

Had he been an intruder?

No one mentioned a theft or other villainous deed, which puzzled Daphne even more.

Why had her mysterious man been within Castle Keyvnor?

The conversation in the dining room was interrupted by a man’s hearty laugh in the foyer. All the women at the table looked up, particularly when he was greeted by the Earl of Bansfield. “Young Nathaniel! I hope you slept well!”

“I did, thank you, cousin. I trust that Lady Tamsyn is pleased?”

The earl laughed. “She is delighted.”

“Then my mission is complete. I shall ride for home this morning.”

“But you cannot reach London before Christmas, Nathaniel,” the earl said. “Surely you will stay for the wedding?”

“I would not be so presumptuous. I know I am not expected to linger...”

“But I have ensured there is a chamber for you all the same,” the earl said heartily. “We cannot send you from the doors at Christmas!”

“I thank you kindly, sir.”

The earl entered the dining room with a young man who smiled at the gathered company.

“My wife’s second cousin, Nathaniel Cushing, for those of you who did not meet him yesterday,” the earl said. “Surely you know everyone here, Nathaniel?”

“Those I do not I will meet soon enough.” Mr. Cushing bowed to the earl. “Thank you again for your generosity, sir.” The earl nodded and departed, and the new arrival helped himself to breakfast.

Daphne took the opportunity to study him. Nathaniel Cushing was about a decade older than herself. He had dark hair and was both fiercely handsome and elegantly dressed. He appeared to be a most genial individual. He heaped a plate from the sideboard then took a place beside Daphne, introducing himself before he sat down.

He could have been the man she had encountered the night before. He looked suitably dashing, to be sure, and bold enough to have demanded a kiss in the night. But when he bestowed a warm smile upon her, his gaze lingering with appreciation, she noticed that his eyes were brown, not blue.

He had not been the one to kiss her, of that she was certain.

“What a marvel this place is,” he said with enthusiasm. “Have you been here before?”

“Once. This autumn we visited briefly.”

“How fortunate for you, Miss Goodenham. Perhaps I might prevail upon you to give me a short tour?”

“I mean to attend church this morning, Mr. Cushing. It would have to wait until after lunch.”

“That would be marvelous. What better than a walk on a Sunday afternoon?”

“Cushing, do you know what Great Uncle Timothy sent to Lady Tamsyn?” asked another guest from down the table. It was one of the gentlemen.

“I would wager it is a gem,” Mr. Cushing said. “Though I could not imagine which one. When I make a delivery for my great uncle, the box is sealed and locked before it is given to me. The key is dispatched separately to the recipient.”