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Mathers huffed, but didn’t speak again. Once she was done, she handed Mary her spangled shawl.

Mary arrived in the drawing room to find Kit already there.

She briefly considered telling him what she had decided.

If he was serious about courting her, it wouldn’t matter, and if he wasn’t, then she wanted to know immediately.

She could always change the orders regarding a trust if she decided to wed him.

On the other hand, perhaps it was best to say nothing.

For the time being, she’d enjoy her independence.

She smiled as he greeted her, raising her fingers to his lips. His breath hovered over them, and a tingle started in the tips, moving up through her arm. She’d felt a warmth before, but, oh my, that was very nice indeed. She’d always known she would enjoy being wooed.

Her breathing hitched as he gazed into her eyes. “Good evening, Kit.”

“Good evening, my dear.”

Oooh, an endearment, and he sounded sincere. He was certainly moving this courting business right along. She wondered how soon he’d kiss her, and if the kiss swept her away—just as she had always dreamed of—she’d know it was love.

She chewed her lip, wondering what he’d do next.

When he led her to the window-seat, she noticed two glasses of sherry on the table next to it as well as a chair. He’d also done his research as to what she liked to drink and where she preferred to sit.

Kit placed one of the cushions behind her, before sitting in the chair. “I think your rector may be joining us as well.”

That shouldn’t surprise her. Even though Mr. Doust had been very helpful when he took Aunt Eunice away this afternoon, and Mary had made the decision her aunt would have expected her to make, she dreaded seeing her aunt and Mr. Doust this evening.

“He has been fond of Aunt Eunice for an age, and she of him. I wish them well.”

“As do I.” Kit leaned back in his chair, idly twirling his glass.

Mary took a sip. “I wish I knew more about him.”

He flashed her a smile. “Worried about your aunt?”

“Perhaps a little. You must admit, he is not your normal run-of-the-mill rector. He seems different somehow. Have you seen his horses?”

“It was one of the first things I noticed.” Setting his glass down untouched, he took her hand. “I don’t think you have much to worry about. I would wager he is a close relation to the Earl of Marnly. They are famous for their cattle. The earl is quite elderly. Mr. Doust may be one of his sons.”

“Then his horses make sense.” Eunice would be happy to remain in the area.

She had mentioned something about it being like home.

Mary felt the same, but she could not allow that to influence her choice of husband.

She would wed for love and nothing less.

“I suppose there is nothing to be concerned with after all.” Mary took a sip of her wine.

“Tell me about yourself. I only know that you spend most of your time in London, own Rose Hill, and our grandmothers are friends.”

Kit stood, lounging against the side of the window seat.

He truly did look magnificent. “I generally spend only the Seasons in Town. The rest of the year I reside at our principal estate, or travel to the lesser properties. As you might know, I am heir to Viscount Featherton, whom I sincerely hope lives to a ripe old age.” He grimaced a bit.

“I have a sister who is two years younger than I. She has three children. A brother who will finish at Oxford this year, and is pegged for the foreign service. A younger sister who has been out for a couple of years now and appears to have finally settled on a gentleman. Two more sisters who will make their come outs next year and the year after, and a younger brother. Family tradition has him going into the army, but he’s much too bookish.

I expect he’ll go to the church. Fortunately, my father holds several livings. ”

Mary grinned. “I can understand why you wish him a long life.”

Kit raised his glass in a salute. “Indeed. Just the thought of having guardianship over the children has me in a panic. Though, we generally get along well. Have you only Barham?”

“No. I’m not actually the only girl. I have an elder sister, Osanna, but she has been married and living near Land’s End since I was nine.

We are not close. She is the oldest. Barham also has several years on me, yet he has always been around, thus I know him better, and we rub along quite well.

The twins, both men now, are close to my age, but they’ve left home.

Our family traditions are not so different from yours.

One is in the army, and the other in Vienna with the foreign service.

” She had always wished for a sister closer to her age. “Do you know Barham?”

Kit had been in the middle of taking a sip of sherry when she asked. He swallowed. “We were in Eton together. Afterward he went on to Cambridge, and I attended Oxford.”

“Yes, he was always more interested in the sciences. In some ways he is very like Uncle Hector.” She paused, still attempting to make sense of the change in her uncle. “Until my father died, and Uncle began insisting I wed his son.”

Kit gazed at her steadily as if he too knew something was wrong. “Tell me more about your uncle.”

The line creasing Lady Mary’s forehead deepened, and Kit wanted nothing more than to smooth it. Truth be told, he’d just as soon take her in his arms and kiss her witless.

“He was always very kind, but absent-minded. His primary love is for rocks, the large ones that one finds in circles. He’s a well-known petrologist, but he is also extremely good with numbers and investing.

Papa told Barham that our fortune would not be nearly so large if it weren’t for Uncle Hector.

I do not understand what has changed him so. ”

Kit wondered if his father knew Hector Tolliver; at least having the uncle’s name and interests would aid in finding the man. “It does sound as if something is not right. I understand Barham has not spoken to him?”

She shook her head. “Uncle Hector is never available. All communication is through letters. Although I’m quite sure he is the one egging Gawain on. Who else could it be? My cousin didn’t pay the slightest bit of attention to me until after Papa died.”

That’s the other thing Kit must do: find this Gawain and put an end to his persecution of Mary. “If you will tell me what your cousin looks like, I shall ensure he can no longer bother you.”

She stared at Kit for several moments. “How can you stop him? No one else has been able to.”

“Believe me, I have my ways.” He tried but failed to keep his tone light.

Lady Eunice and Doust entered the drawing room just ahead of Simons.

She had the look of a well-kissed woman, if Kit knew anything about it, and he did.

The urge to pull Mary into his arms, taste her lips, and kiss them until they were plump surged through him again.

How long would he have to wait before Mary had the same appearance?

During dinner it appeared as if they were all focused on keeping the conversation light. Doust was encouraged by the ladies to tell them about Ireland and the horses.

“Mr. Featherton had already guessed who you are.” Mary smiled shyly. “I think it was clever of him.”

“Indeed it was.” Doust saluted Kit. “It has been a very long time since anyone put two and two together.”

Kit smiled and accepted the compliments. He was more interested in knowing if Mary’s accolade meant that she was softening to him. He hoped so. They could not go the way they had been much longer. To-morrow, on the picnic, he’d make his first concerted effort to claim her affections and her hand.