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Miss Vandenberg, I came to call on you.’

      Certainly she had misheard what he’d said. She glanced at Meg, who wasn’t doing anything to hide her surprise at seeing the Duke of Lyonsdale in the cosy drawing room. When Katrina finally caught her maid’s eye she gestured for her to return to her seat and continue mending.

      Awkwardly Lyonsdale cleared his throat. He appeared to be waiting for something—her manners and proper etiquette, probably. He had her so flustered she couldn’t even recall proper protocol.

      Walking to the settee and the chairs by the fireplace, she gracefully lowered herself into one of the chairs. ‘Would you care to sit?’

      ‘Thank you, I would.’ A faint smile softened his features as he sat across from her, looking very masculine on the delicate settee.

      When he accepted her offer of tea, she nodded her request to Wilkins. Her butler eyed Lyonsdale, before giving her a crisp nod and leaving the room without closing the door.

      She turned her attention back to her guest. ‘I’m surprised you have ventured out on such a dreary day. I must confess I’ve not heard many carriages go by all morning.’

      He shifted restlessly on the settee. ‘I had some important matters to attend to. While the roads are a bit treacherous, they are passable.’

      The unlit fireplace seemed to hold his interest. When he looked back at her, the tension was palpable.

      ‘I needed to see you to offer you my apology.’ The words came out stilted, as if he hadn’t said them often. He should have apologised for ignoring her weeks ago.

      ‘Why are you offering me your apology?’

      He leaned closer and they both stole a glance at Meg. Thankfully her maid appeared occupied with her mending. He licked his lips and Katrina almost slid off her chair, remembering the brief feel of those lips brushing against hers.

      ‘I need to apologise for what occurred in my library,’ he whispered.

      There were many things this man could apologise for, and he was choosing to apologise for their almost kiss?

      She was mortified that she had believed him to be as attracted to her as she was to him. It would be horrid to hear him admit he hadn’t intended to kiss her. Dear God, maybe she was the one who had moved her lips up to his!

      ‘Let us not speak of it again,’ she whispered back.

      His brow wrinkled. ‘I fear I have offended you, and that was not my intention.’

      ‘You have not.’

      ‘Are you certain?’

      This was torture. Did he have to go on? ‘I assure you there is no need to speak of it.’

      He lowered his chin and licked his lips again. ‘Miss Vandenberg, I feel a need to be frank.’

      ‘Please do not.’ Could not the floor open up and swallow her, just this once?

      He kept his voice low. ‘I did not wish to insult you, but you stir something inside me.’ A pained look crossed his face.

      The breath she was holding was released with a whoosh, and she held her stomach to steady the butterflies inside.

      ‘You wanted to kiss me?’

      ‘I thought that was very apparent.’

      ‘But you just apologised.’

      ‘Because I insulted your honour with my action.’ He rubbed the back of his neck and eyed her sideways. ‘You pulled away from me in my library. Did you want me to kiss you?’

      How could she answer that and not sound wanton?

      ‘Did you?’ he prodded.

      She was struggling to find a response when Wilkins arrived with the tea tray. He placed the tray on the table between them and quietly left the room, once again leaving the door open.

      ‘Oh, look! The tea is here,’ she said.

      ‘So it is.’ He shifted in his seat and then straightened. ‘How fortuitous,’ he said dryly.

      It was taking quite a bit of effort to hide her relief. ‘Tea?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Milk and sugar?’

      ‘Neither, thank you.’

      Katrina glanced at him in surprise.

      ‘I don’t enjoy my tea sweet,’ he offered.

      ‘Apparently,’ she replied, handing him his cup.

      He looked over at Meg and then back at her, and then placed his cup and saucer on the table. He kept his voice low. ‘Aside from offering my apologies to you, I also have another reason for calling on you today.’

      ‘Which is...?’

      ‘While I was out this morning I saw this and thought you might enjoy it.’ He held out a wrapped package she hadn’t noticed he had been holding when he entered.

      ‘You know I cannot accept it,’ she said, pouring a splash of milk into her own cup.

      ‘Please—think of it as a way for me to extend my thanks for the book you sent to my grandmother.’

      ‘Or a peace offering?’

      Amusement sparkled in his eyes. ‘If you like.’

      She hesitantly placed her cup on the table and took the package. As she unwrapped it her eyes widened. ‘Frankenstein. I want to read this.’

      ‘I thought you might. You were looking at it the day we met at Hatchards.’

      Her hands fell to her lap, still holding the book. ‘You remember that?’

      He leaned in closer and lowered his voice. ‘I also remember your maid’s love of gothic tales, so you might want to consider hiding it from her.’

      Thunder boomed in the distance.

      ‘That is probably a wise suggestion.’

      ‘I thought so.’

      ‘Have you read it?’

      He shook his head and leaned back. ‘No. However, I purchased a copy for myself as well and thought to begin it tonight.’

      This time thunder shook the room, and Katrina glanced at the closest window. Rain poured down the panes, obstructing the view of the street. ‘It does appear to be an ideal day to read such a tale. It would be a shame not to take advantage of this atmosphere. Would you like to begin reading it now?’

      ‘You mean together?’

      ‘Certainly. Unless I am keeping you from a pressing engagement?’

      ‘I’m intrigued by your suggestion. How do you propose we begin?’

      ‘I suppose each of us could read silently, if you find that acceptable?’ It might prove difficult to concentrate on the words if she had to listen to his deep voice read them.

      He nodded, and then his eyes widened as she lifted her delicate chair and placed it next to the settee.

      ‘I do not believe I have ever witnessed a lady moving furniture before. You do have other servants, do you not?’

      ‘Of course. But I am fully capable of moving this chair, and it would have delayed our enjoyment if we’d had to wait for them.’ She settled herself into the chair and smiled over at him.

      ‘You do realise you could sit here on the settee with me? There is room for both of us,’ he said.

      Thunder boomed again. ‘No, I do not believe that would be a wise idea.’ He smelled heavenly—like clean soap and leather.

      ‘You are next to me now.’

      But

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