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are deliberately seeing the worst of my family.’

      She laughed at that. ‘The worst? Moving a few dozen villagers is nothing to the debauched and dissolute manner with which the Arrandales have conducted themselves over the years.’

      Alex reined in his temper. Who was she to criticise his kin?

      ‘The Arrandales are no worse than many other families,’ he snapped. ‘I would not contemplate displacing a whole village, but I would move two little girls! It is not as though I am throwing you on the streets. You may have the pick of my properties, if you wish I will even buy you a new house.’

      ‘I do not want a new house,’ she retorted. ‘My sister thought it best for the children to be settled in one place and I agree with her.’

      ‘I am not advocating that they should be constantly moving from house to house, Miss Grensham, merely asking that you settle them somewhere else.’

      Alex reached across to refill her glass. By heaven, but she was stubborn! He noticed that his own glass was empty. He might as well refill that, too. He had forgotten that the brandy in the cellars here was very fine indeed.

      She sipped her wine before replying.

      ‘No, my lord. Chantreys is an eminently suitable house for the children. Its proximity to London means that when they need dancing and singing masters we will be able to command the very best.’

      There was the faintest suggestion of unsteadiness in her voice. His glance flickered over the half-empty wine glass. Was she intoxicated? He had intended that she should be at ease with him, but perhaps in the enjoyment of the dinner he had allowed her too much wine. After all, she was not used to society and possibly might not be used to wine-drinking either. He pushed his chair back.

      ‘It is time I left,’ he said abruptly.

      She blinked at him, her eyes wide. ‘But we have not finished our discussion, nor have I finished my wine.’

      ‘I think you have had quite enough,’ he muttered, walking round and putting his hand on her chair. ‘Come along.’

      With a tiny shrug of her shoulders she rose. She looked perfectly steady but he was taking no chances. He pulled her hand on to his sleeve and walked her out of the dining room. As they crossed the hall he barked out an order to a hovering footman.

      ‘Ask Mrs Wallace to make tea and bring it into the drawing room, immediately.’

      ‘Oh, are you staying for tea?’ said Diana. ‘That will be de—delightful.’

      He felt the weight of her as she leaned into him. He had intended to leave her, but perhaps he should stay and make sure she drank something other than wine. She continued to chatter as he guided her into the drawing room and eased her off his arm and on to a sofa.

      ‘Chantreys is most, most excellently situated,’ she told him. ‘We are close enough to London to visit the art galleries, and the famous Shakespeare Gallery in Pall Mall. Do you know it, my lord?’

      ‘It is not somewhere I have visited as yet,’ he replied, moving away.

      ‘Then you should do so,’ she said seriously. ‘It has illustrations of Shakespeare’s plays, commissioned from the finest artists.’

      He watched her as she rose and began to walk about the room, idly running her hand along the chair backs.

      ‘There is nothing to say you could not live further from town,’ he said, ‘You could bring the children to stay in London from time to time. Money is no object—’

      ‘This is not about money, my lord.’ She stopped and turned, fixing him with those large, hazel eyes. ‘Chantreys has always been their home, they know it and love it. It would be cruel to uproot them now.’

      The entrance of Fingle with the tea tray gave Alex time to consider her words and to admit to himself, grudgingly, that she was right. How could he even think of moving the girls at such a time? He could buy a house, or rent one. It might not be as perfect as Chantreys but there must be something suitable for entertaining. For some reason he found it difficult to concentrate on the matter. Or on anything very much. Perhaps it was not only Diana who had been drinking a little too freely.

      When they were alone again he said, ‘Come, take a cup of tea.’

      ‘I do not think I want anything just yet.’ She wandered over to the open window and gave a loud sigh. ‘Is it not the most beautiful view from here?’

      He crossed the room to stand behind her, but it was not the rolling acres of parkland that he was thinking about, it was the way the westering sun set her red hair aflame. Without thinking he reached out to touch it, but quickly snatched his hand back when she turned suddenly to face him. She was glaring at him, the light of battle in her eyes.

      ‘Do you know what the problem is, my lord Davenport? You are spoiled. You have never had to struggle, to fight for anything. Is it any wonder if you are dissolute and irresponsible? Whatever you desire you only have to click your fingers.’ She held up her hand, frowning in concentration as she tried to fit the action to the words. After a moment she gave up and turned her rather misty gaze upon him once more. ‘You only have to click your fingers and your wish is granted, your wealth has always bought everything you want.’ She stabbed at his chest with her fingers. ‘Well, you shall not buy me.’

      His eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t do that.’

      ‘Why not?’ She looked up, a challenging gleam in her eyes. ‘Are you afraid I might sully your exquisite tailoring? Or do you fear I shall disturb the perfection of your cravat?’

      Her fingers began to slide up over the embroidered waistcoat, but before she had reached the black linen neckcloth he clamped his hand over hers.

      The effect was shocking.

      A bolt of desire shot through Alex. It was no longer an annoying little governess standing before him, rather a creature of fire, a flame-haired siren who tantalised his senses. Her eyes widened, as if she was aware of the effect she was having. Hardly surprising since he was still holding her fingers against his chest, where she must feel the drumming of his heart. His free hand slid around her neck and cupped the back of her head. He almost expected those flaming locks to burn him but her hair was cool as silk against his palm. She made no move to resist and gently he drew her closer. As he lowered his head to kiss her he saw her eyelids flutter. Soaring elation overwhelmed him. His mouth came down upon hers in a bruising kiss.

      * * *

      Diana’s senses swooped and spun. He teased her lips apart, his tongue flickering, demanding access and she could not deny him. She knew she should be outraged but instead she was exultant, revelling in the taste and smell of him, an exciting mixture of wine and spices plus something unfamiliar but very male. Her bones turned to water but it did not matter, because he was holding her so close, his arms strong as iron bands. Her hand was still trapped against his chest and she struggled to move and slip it around his neck, to push her fingers through the thick dark hair that curled over his collar.

      She had never been in a man’s arms before, no man had ever so much as kissed her cheek, but she felt no fear, only a fierce, primal pleasure when Alex’s teeth grazed her lip before his tongue was once more dipping and diving into her. She gave a small moan of pleasure before returning his kiss and when she felt him withdrawing she clung tighter, instinctively pressing her body against his, wanting to prolong the hot, intimate embrace.

      The blood was pounding through her veins, her senses were swimming, but she was aware that his arms were no longer around her, he was easing himself away, gently but inexorably. The frantic, heated kisses came to an end.

      Dragging in a breath, Diana put her hands behind her, thankful to find the window frame was within reach. She leaned against it, trying to work out just what had happened. Alex was staring at her, frowning from beneath those heavy brows, his deep chest rising and falling with every ragged breath.

      ‘I beg your

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