LITMIR.BIZ

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grey eyes were really deep blue ones and russet hair was black.

      He knew that to desire Miss Eleanor was crying for the moon, but there were times when his longing for her grew unbearable. He also knew that Sir Hart—as everyone called him—had forbidden them to associate with one another once Ned and Stacy had left, and that their recent return had not lifted his prohibition. If Miss Eleanor continued to ignore it, though, then so would he.

      Unable to refuse her anything, he handed the wriggling creature over to her. Eleanor, ignoring her fine clothing and recent toilette, cuddled the feral thing, exclaiming over it until she almost drove Nat mad with desire for her, thus justifying all Sir Hart’s prohibitions.

      She petted and stroked the little creature, holding it up so that it hung slack from her hands, but her raptures were cut short when the impudent beast bit her finger. With a sharp cry she relaxed her grip. It leapt out of her arms and, before she and Nat could recapture it, the little animal scuttled away in the direction of the house.

      Nat’s desire for Eleanor was replaced by an even greater desire to catch the ferret before he could be in trouble for involving Eleanor in this escapade!

      Alas, it was more nimble than they were. Scurrying and flowing along, it turned the corner of the house, found the tall glass doors opening on to the Elizabethan knot garden and ran through the drawing room, where Eleanor’s mama was entertaining the Lorimers, the Harshaws and other gentry of the district to tea.

      Feminine screams bore witness that the arrival of the ferret had devastated the party.

      In the middle of the noise Eleanor’s mama appeared at the doors to face her daughter and Nat, who were both transfixed by the enormity of a prank which had gone sadly wrong.

      ‘Run, Nat, run,’ Eleanor had said, once the outcry had begun. ‘It was my fault, not yours.’

      Too late! Even as he turned her mama said, in a voice severe for her, ‘Miss Hatton, did you release that animal? Shame on you. Is that Nat Swain with you?’

      ‘Yes, but it was my fault, Mama, not his. It was an accident. I did not mean to upset the tea party. I am sorry.’

      ‘Sorry! Yes, you should be sorry, Miss Hatton. Swain, you had better come and rescue the tea party by taking the animal away. Sir Hartley must be informed of your misbehaviour once you have removed it. Having done so you will report immediately to him. And you, Miss Hatton, will go to your room at once. At once, I say.’

      Her mother was rarely firm, but today she showed no signs of relenting.

      Obedient for once, Eleanor, her head hanging, walked to the stairs, where she met Ned and Stacy attracted by the uproar.

      ‘Well, you’ve really done it this time, little sister,’ said Ned, grinning.

      Stacy, just behind him, was more serious. ‘Oh, Eleanor, you’ve got poor Nat into trouble again! You know what Sir Hart said last time.’

      ‘Oh, Stacy, don’t preach,’ exclaimed Eleanor sharply. ‘It wasn’t deliberate. It was an accident.’

      ‘Which will cost Nat a thrashing,’ returned Stacy bluntly. ‘It will cost you, as well. Sir Hart won’t be best pleased. You’re not fair to Nat, you know.’

      He was not referring to the prank, but Eleanor was too immature to grasp his real meaning—that she was a temptation to him.

      ‘Oh, Nat’ll take it in his stride,’ said Ned carelessly, nearly as blind as Eleanor. ‘Best you go to your own room, Nell. Mama was really in a taking this time.’

      It was nearly an hour before her mother’s maid came knocking on her bedroom door to tell her that her grandfather wished to see her in his study. By then Eleanor had begun to regret her recent rash behaviour and the tears were not far away.

      She made her way slowly downstairs, through the long picture gallery and past the giant Gainsborough portrait of Sir Hart’s father, Sir Beauchamp. Sir Beauchamp always frightened Eleanor: he was so cold, so stern and so handsome. It was strange that Sir Hart resembled him so much in appearance but was so different in his kind goodness from his redoubtable and severe father.

      Sir Hart’s goodness was legendary; Sir Beauchamp’s ruthless will was equally so. Even in the days when Sir Hart had been a member of Lord Liverpool’s government his virtue had been a byword. It made it difficult to oppose him.

      What was remarkable was that Sir Hart had always stuck to his principles first in his difficult youth, under Sir Beauchamp, and then with his equally difficult problems with his two worthless sons, one of whom had been Eleanor’s father. Both of them had died young as a consequence of their dissolute lives.

      It must be hard, thought Eleanor, to have had someone like Papa to contend with. And for the first time she felt guilt at her own thoughtless conduct. She wondered how Sir Beauchamp would have dealt with her.

      Her great-aunt Almeria, Sir Beauchamp’s only daughter, had said once to Eleanor’s mama that he had never suffered nonsense from anyone. She had added that he’d had the coldest heart she had ever encountered. Eleanor thought that her great-aunt resembled Sir Beauchamp—but was a little kinder.

      By the time she had reached Sir Hart’s study door Eleanor was in a mood which was new to her. Seeing Sir Beauchamp as though for the first time had set her thinking of how unsatisfactory Ned was. With his easy charm and his heedlessness of the consequences of his rash actions, he was behaving exactly like their dead father.

      Worse than that, she was suddenly unhappily aware that she was following the same path as Ned—and that would never do. The deeper implications of her friendship with Nat and her own thoughtless conduct were presenting themselves to her for the first time. Later she was to think that her life changed fundamentally on that afternoon—and all because Nat Swain had brought her a ferret!

      She found Sir Hartley Hatton standing by the window looking out over the moors: his favourite position. He was in his late seventies but was still a handsome man, nearly as straight and tall as he had been in his prime.

      ‘Pray sit down, Eleanor.’

      She chose a high-backed chair opposite to his desk, clasped her hands loosely in her lap and hung her head. Sir Hart thought that she might be so subdued because for the first time she was questioning her own conduct, and was wondering, perhaps, why she had behaved so wildly. It was plain that she was feeling shame for more than the silly prank itself. It was a good sign.

      He came straight to the point. ‘I don’t often give you an order, Eleanor, but I gave you one over young Swain. Why did you disobey me?’

      His voice was so kind that the tears threatened to fall immediately.

      ‘Oh, I don’t know, Grandfather. I thought that it was unkind of you, when I was lonely once Ned and Stacy had gone, to deny me Nat as well.’

      ‘Why do you think I gave it?’

      Sir Hart’s voice was still kind, but there was a hint of sternness in it.

      Eleanor twisted her hands, and said painfully, ‘I suppose it was so that I shouldn’t play a silly prank, as I did with the ferret. It wasn’t intended, though, Grandfather, and it wasn’t Nat’s fault. Please don’t punish him for it.’

      Her grandfather waved a dismissive hand. ‘Oh, the business with the animal was stupid, and caused distress, but that was not the fault, only the symptom. Pray answer my question.’

      Her eyes full of tears, Eleanor murmured, ‘I suppose because I’m too old to play childish tricks and run wild…’ She faltered to a stop.

      ‘Indeed, but more than that you are being unfair to young Swain. He is not of your world, Eleanor. What was innocent and passed the time when you were children became less so as you grew older. It was positively wrong once Ned and Stacy had left and you were on your own.’

      Sir Hart paused. It was plain to him that Eleanor did not know what a temptation she presented to the lad now that she was growing

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