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Despite her champagne-up-the-nose gaff, his gaze grazed past her without a moment’s pause.

She supposed his lack of notice owed more to her role as a lady’s companion than anything else.

The upper crust never remarked over members of the servant class.

Still, she kept her eyes downcast and her neck bowed ’til her muscles ached from the strain.

Then this morning’s disaster happened.

Beside her the dowager frowned at no one in particular. “Too many people milling about. I look forward to the week’s end, when most of the guests depart.”

“You don’t say?” The statement made perfect sense coming from her recluse of an employer. What didn’t was why she’d wanted to come to Femsworth Hall in the first place, her story concerning Bernadette being her so-called favorite notwithstanding.

Anna mulled the conundrum, swiping up another sandwich—chilled cucumber and butter this time.

Lady Wentworth’s lips twitched. “You’re an odd bird, Anna. A third my age and already more at home with these dry bones of mine and your notebooks than with people your own age.”

Anna regarded her employer who regularly congratulated her on her good sense, touting the two of them birds of a feather. “Takes one to know one.”

The older woman snorted. “Don’t tell me you’re not curious about that dashing young man you saved this morning—”

“I’d hardly call what I did that.”

“As long as I live, I’ll not forget the sight of you charging in to rescue Thurgood.”

“You exaggerate, madam. ”

“Hardly. I’ve no doubt he’d like to thank you for your heroics. Any gentleman worth his salt would. It’ll be a wonder if he spots you all the way out here, however.”

“Am I to understand you’d prefer to relocate into the thick of things? As for the man in question, whomever he may be, I’ve no doubt he’s quite forgotten my part in his little misadventure.” Or so she hoped.

Her employer grimaced. “Surround ourselves with them? ” She flicked her fingers contemptuously at the crowd. “Hardly. And his name is Thurgood. Caden Thurgood of Claybourne. Grandfather’s an earl.”

As she very well knew. She lapsed into a pensive silence while Lady Wentworth, humming, peered through her lorgnette.

Anna estimated the number of guests present at fifty. Fifty sets of eyes that had the potential to bring disaster down on her head. Or, more specifically, around her neck. They still hung murderers, didn’t they?

Not that it had been murder. She’d merely defended herself. But would the court see it as such? Certainly Angelique would not testify on her behalf.

She fingered the brim of her bonnet, assuring herself it still sat low over her brow, while telling herself for the thousandth time her position as Lady Wentworth’s companion made her invisible for all practical purposes.

Stumbling across Caden Thurgood this morning had simply been a stroke of bad luck—wrong place, wrong time. They’d not have crossed paths at all had Lady Wentworth not decided to join her on her morning walk, then insisted they aim for the lake.

When they happened upon a man facedown on the shore, Anna reacted without thinking, rushing to his aid. She credited her years of trailing after her father while he tended his patients for the inane impulse.

Closing her eyes, she relived the horrifying moment when she rolled the wall of a man onto his back and found Caden Thurgood, dead.

Not that he’d been dead. But for that split second, her heart seized and time itself seemed to stop ’til her father’s voice sounded in her head reminding her to check the patient for signs of life. She nearly wept when she felt his hot breath tickling the fine hairs on her cheek.

It never occurred to her not to see to his injuries after that. Frankly, she’d quite forgotten the potential danger to herself—’til the moment he’d asked her name.

She feared he'd recognized her, at first. But then she realized he’d asked her name because he didn’t recognize her, even up close. She’d gotten quite a bit taller, lost some baby fat, and, too, her hair color had gone from sun-kissed gold to dark brown.

She chewed the inside of her cheek. Might she chance a peek into the crowd to see how he fared? From afar, of course.

Heart pounding in her ears, she searched the crowd. Once she had proof he’d recovered, she’d turn away.

Numerous party guests having finished their meals traversed the lawn, their lounge chairs and picnic baskets abandoned. A handful of liveried footmen scooped dishes and blankets into wicker baskets. Caden, however, was nowhere in sight.

“Any luck? I could lend you my lorgnette?”

Anna gave a start of surprise. She placed a hand over her heart and schooled her features. She should have guessed her shrewd employer would know exactly what she was about, searching the crowd.

“Thank you, madame, but that’s not necessary. I only wanted to see he survived his ordeal.”

“That magnificent specimen of a man? Of course he has. "

Anna cocked her head. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’m old, Anna, not blind. All the men of the Claybourne clan boast exceptional good looks, and Caden Thurgood is no exception, or didn’t you notice?

Tall and vital with that chiseled jaw. Thick tawny-gold hair a woman could sink her fingers into.

” Lady Wentworth shivered in dramatic zeal. “If I were only ten years younger.”

Anna laughed. Lady Wentworth was sixty if she was a day, whereas Caden was closer to Anna’s own age of four and twenty—perhaps one year her senior. “Only ten?”

Lady Wentworth smirked. “Very well. Twenty. I’d settle for either of the Thurgood brothers, but Claybourne’s heir, Ezekiel Thurgood, recently married, crushing hearts across England.”

“Did he really? I always thought him too busy adventure-seeking to take the time to choose a wife, let alone marry.”

Her employer cast her a side-long look. “You’re acquainted with the family, then?”

“Not at all. I’m sure I read something to the effect in the society column.” She bit her lower lip then added, “I’ve never laid eyes on either man before today.”

Lady Wentworth returned her attention to the crowd, once again employing the lorgnette. “There’s the handsome rogue now, apparently none-the-worse for wear. I do wonder what laid him out to begin with.” She sniffed. “We could have waited to find out.”

Anna’s heart pounded so hard she wondered it didn’t crack her ribs. She spotted Caden in less time than it took to blink, no lorgnette necessary. He stood a head taller than every man present, and his thick head of tawny-blond hair gleamed in the afternoon sun.

Like a visiting dignitary--or a prince--he strolled amongst the other guests. “Charming everyone in his path with that pirate’s smile, no doubt,” she muttered .

“Beg pardon?”

She’d spoken aloud? She wracked her brain, finally coming up with, “I said it appears he could walk a mile.”

“Seems true enough.”

He was fine. She could put the entire incident—and him—out of her mind.

With only a modicum of reluctance, she adjusted her lounger, turning her back on the throng of people—and Caden Thurgood.

With a sigh, she pushed the rim of her bonnet back and reclined, eyes closed, savoring the warmth of the sun on her upturned face.

“I fancy another scone.”

Anna sat up, yanking her bonnet down. “I’ll fetch one for you.” The possibility of encountering Caden had nothing to do with her leaping to do Lady Wentworth’s bidding. Nothing whatsoever.

“Continue your sunbathing. I need to stretch my legs.”

“I should at least accompany you, my lady. You might turn your ankle traversing the uneven lawn.”

“Bah.” Lady Wentworth, already on the move, waved her off.

Anna sank back onto her chair, relieved and disappointed all at once. But, no. This was definitely for the best.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself, for just a moment, to marvel over the coincidence. Of all the people in all of England, how had he ended up here, at the very same house party as she?

She had not laid eyes on him for too many years to count, enough that he rarely crossed her mind.

But there had been a time when Caden, with his mischief-filled sky-blue eyes and breath-catching smile, occupied center stage in her thoughts, back when she was young and blessedly unaware of how complicated life could be.

How old had she been that last Summer? Going on fourteen? Which would put him at fifteen or sixteen. Not quite a man, but no longer a boy willing to act out her favorite pastime, Prince Charming rescues his Princess .

Except on that last day, when he’d offered. Obviously put-upon, he said he knew of no other way to shake her out of her dour mood.

She hadn't the will to tell him to stuff it as she ought. She’d been too aware she and her family would quit the country in a matter of days, and the lure of his attention focused entirely upon her proved too tempting to resist.

She’d lived on the memory of that last day for…far too long.

She hadn’t laid eyes on him since. 'Til today.

In her mind’s eye, Caden, the boy, faded, and she saw him as she had that morning, after she turned him over and felt his warm breath on her cheek.

Lying there, half conscious, he’d smiled up at her and her wits threatened to scatter to the wind.

Only through an effort of sheer will had she kept her head on straight.

She couldn’t risk seeing him again. She certainly couldn’t risk interacting with him. Still. Knowing he was here, so close and yet so far, was going to make for an infernally long weekend.