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Anna awoke early for her walk as planned.

She doubted she could have slept late even had she wanted to.

She laced up her boots and silently admitted the truth: She didn’t want to miss a single moment of what currently comprised her life, here and now in Chissington Hall.

She felt just like the princess in the fantasies she’d created in her head as a child.

She even had her Prince Charming.

She paused, and gave her waist a little pinch. Sure enough, it hurt.

A helpless smile splitting her face, she reached for the bell pull above her bed. She hated to pester one of the servants who surely had tasks aplenty, but she dare not try to find her way out of the sprawling manse on her own .

Less than a minute later, a soft knock sounded on her antechamber door. Awed by the household’s efficiency, she hurried forward swung the door open wide, and found herself face to face with Caden.

Freshly shaven, hair damp and combed back, dressed in tweed and smelling divine, he stole her breath.

He flashed her a brilliant smile. “Good morning.”

“What are you doing here?” she hissed in answer, and grabbed his sleeve to pull him inside. An image of him kissing her breathless filled her with giddy anticipation despite her chastising tone.

He didn’t budge from his wide-legged stance in the hallway. He waggled one finger at her. “Best if we maintain a modicum of decorum, darling.”

She scowled at him. He had nerve, showing up on her doorstep uninvited, and then rebuking her.

It was like he’d read her mind.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Perhaps you’ll answer my question, then?”

He gave a mock, long-suffering sigh. “I came to escort you on your walk. I thought you might enjoy a guided tour.”

Her heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. “I would like that very much.”

To her utter delight, his tour started inside the castle. He revealed hidden treasures she never would have noticed on her own, and shared snippets from his childhood that warmed her heart.

Here, the schoolroom where he and Zeke and countless Claybourne children before them practiced their letters and, according to Caden, drove their nan’s, governesses, and tutors to distraction. There, the music room, the billiard room, the men’s wing.

And now, the formal ballroom.

“I’ve never seen a real ballroom, Caden.”

“No? Can’t say you’re missing much.”

She disagreed. She clasped her arms behind her, tilted back her head and executed a slow pivot. A real, glittering ballroom, with high-high ceilings and massive crystal chandeliers.

She gazed across the expanse of polished marble-tiled floors at artful alcoves, strategically staggered, where couples might find a modicum of privacy for a quiet tète-a-tète between dances, out of listening range of young ladies’ ever present chaperones, or so she imagined.

She glanced up at the balcony which would house the musical quartet. She could practically hear a waltz playing now, could see a crush of dancers sweeping over the floors.

Anna had never attended a real ball. Still, the scene unfolded before her, clear as day. A shiver of longing coursed through her and whispered if she stayed, if she and Caden wed, she might experience such an evening first-hand.

In the arms of the man I love . Caden, whom I’ve always loved.

She turned to stare, wide-eyed, at Caden, her heart lodged in her throat. Should she tell him? But what would that accomplish? It was clear he felt something for her, but something hardly equated with undying devotion.

He must be the one to broach the subject of affection, even if it wasn’t love precisely. She stared at him, willing him to do so with all her might—or at least kiss her.

Caden gestured toward the doorway. “Ready to venture outdoors?”

Not waiting for an answer, he took her arm and led her out of the ballroom and down another corridor. “We’ll go across through the portico.”

“Delightful,” she said, annoyance pricking her .

They were alone. Not a soul in sight. They hadn’t crossed paths with a single servant. No one would witness Caden sweeping her into his arms to kiss her as she ached for him to do.

As she’d ached for him to do since yesterday afternoon, in her bedchamber.

But no. Caden’s chivalrous streak evidently asserted itself the moment he blithely announced their engagement.

What happened to the passionate man who betrayed his own sense of honor to make love with her? Had their lovemaking left him unmoved? He’d implied otherwise when they spoke of it in the carriage.

What if he lied to spare her feelings? What if he no longer desired her? What if he wanted to marry her out of duty alone?

That she could not bear.

She nodded woodenly at the pristine potted plants and overflowing flower baskets adorning the portico which Caden pointed out.

She had to know the extent of his feelings for her. At least if they shared passion, they had a chance for love to grow. At least, she thought so. What had he said in the coach, precisely?

He found their lovemaking everything he had hoped and more. At the time, she’d taken his words as high praise. In retrospect, he could just as well have been hedging.

She clenched her jaw. She loved the man and was this close to accepting his proposal. How could she not? Despite his words to the contrary, he was everything she could want in a man and more. What kind of fool would she be to reject him?

A fool in love, evidently, because without some sign he cared for her, at least a little, she could not marry him. It would kill her.

“Are you listening to a word I’m saying?” He demanded, stopping in his tracks.

Anna stumbled to a halt beside him. “Um…Yes? ”

He frowned down at her. “You’ve hardly said a word about the grounds. Not the winding path, nor the fountain nor the pond.” As he spoke he gestured hither and yon, as if pointing out same.

She glanced around her, surprised to find they had walked quite a distance from the castle and now stood beside a small pond with a delightful fountain depicting a mermaid riding a large fish in its center.

Caden continued in an peeved tone. “I thought you’d enjoy the estate’s famous secret garden. But if you’d rather turn back—”

“Secret garden? As in hidden?”

“Oh, you are awake.” He inclined his chin toward the dense forest on the eastern side of the path into which the gravel walk seemed to vanish. “Hidden, invisible to the naked eye, and so on. What do you think? Should we go back?” One corner of his mouth quirked upward.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” A garden, safely tucked away from any possible onlookers? Once there, she would coax a kiss out of the man, if she had to plant one on him herself.