“You know you like kissing me, and I…”

“Yes?”

“I like kissing you, as well,” she admitted on a brittle smile.

“Give me some time, Anna,” he said, the aristocrat stooping to bargain, not the importuning suitor. “You think you’d not make a suitable duchess, and you think we don’t know each other well. Give me the opportunity to convince you of your errors.”

“You want me for a mistress,” she said, “but I will not take your coin.”

“I am asking,” he said with great patience, “the opportunity to gain a place in your affections, Anna. Nothing more.”

Was he asking for an affair? She should refuse him even that, but it was all too tempting.

“I will think about it, though I believe it best if I pursue another position. And no matter what, you mustn’t be seen to embarrass me with your attentions.”

“I will draft you a glowing character,” the earl said, his eyes hooded, “but you must agree to give me at least the summer to change your mind.”

“Write the character.” Anna nodded, heart shattering all over again. “Give it to Lord Valentine for safekeeping, and I will promise not to seek other employment this summer, unless you give me cause.”

“I would not disrespect you, and I would never get a bastard on any woman, Anna.” The earl leveled a look of such frustration at her that Anna cringed.

“Were you to get a bastard on me, we would be forced to wed. I cannot see either of us inviting such circumstances.”

His expression changed, becoming thoughtful.

“So if I were to get you pregnant, you would marry me?”

Anna realized too late the trap she had set for herself and sat on the window seat with a sigh. “I would,” she admitted, “which only indicates how unwilling I will be to permit the occasion to arise.”

He sat down beside her and took her hand, and she sensed his mind beginning to sift and sort through the information she’d disclosed and the information she’d withheld.

He drew a pattern over her knuckles. “I am not your enemy, and I never will be.”

She nodded, not arguing. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her to his side.

“You are not my enemy,” Anna said, letting him tuck her against him. “And you cannot be my husband nor my keeper.”

“I will be your very discreet suitor for the summer, and then we will see where we are. We are agreed on this.” He voice was purposeful, as if he’d finished exploring the challenge before him and was ready to vanquish it.

“We are agreed,” Anna said, knowing his best efforts would in a few weeks time put them no closer to his goals than they were in that moment. But she needed those weeks, needed them to plan and organize and regroup.

And in the alternative, she needed the time to grieve and to hoard up for herself the bittersweet procession of moments like this, when he held her and comforted her and reminded her of all she could not have.

They stayed like that, sitting side by side for a long time, the only sound the rain pelting against the windows. After a time, Westhaven got up and looked around the room.

“I will go check on Pericles. I am thinking I should also lay a fire in here, as the rain does not appear to be moving off.”

“Lay a fire? We have hours of light yet,” Anna said, though in truth they’d had more than a nap outside by the stream, and the afternoon was well advanced. “We could make it back to Town were we to leave in the next couple of hours.”

He pursed his lips, obviously unwilling to argue. Anna let him go, knowing it would ruin his gig were they to try to get it back to Town in this downpour. He came back soaked to the skin but reporting the horse was contentedly munching hay and watching the rain from his stall.

They spent the next hour retrieving more blankets and the medical bag kept in the gig, then, as the rain had not let up, filling up the wood boxes in the library. The earl split logs from a supply on the back porch, and Anna toted them into the house. They continued in that fashion, until the wood boxes built beside the library hearths were full and the earl had left a tidy pile of logs split for the next time somebody needed a fire.

He returned to the library where Anna had laid a fire but not lit it.

“I should not be chilled,” he mused. “I’ve just hefted an ax for the first time in several years, but I find I am a trifle cold.”

Unusual, Anna thought, as she herself was not cold, and she hadn’t split wood, but then, the earl had gotten wet tending to his horse and Anna was quite dry. She’d found flint and steel in the wood box, thank heavens, or the earl would have had to get another soaking just as his clothing was drying.

“I’ll light your fire,” Anna said, missing entirely the smile her comment engendered on the earl’s face.

“And I will forage for a piece of marzipan.”

“There should be plenty,” Anna said from the hearth, “and some lemonade, though it isn’t likely very cold.”

He found the marzipan, taking two pieces, and then the lemonade.

“So where should we sleep?” he asked, glancing around the room as he chomped on his candy.

“At home, I hope.”

The earl gave her a quelling look. “I did not plan this weather.”

“No, you did not, but if we stay here alone overnight, my reputation will be in tatters.”

“And you still would not marry me?”

“England is a big place. A tattered reputation in London can easily be mended in Manchester.”

“You would flee?”

“I would have to.”

“I would not allow that, Anna.” The earl frowned at her as he spoke. “If you come to harm as a result of this situation, you will permit me to provide for you.”

“As you did for Elise?” Anna said, sitting on a stone hearth. “I think not.”

“I’m going to check on the horse again,” he said, “and bring in the last of the supplies from the gig, just in case the rain doesn’t stop soon.” Anna let him go, knowing his retreat was in part an effort to cool the irritation he must be feeling with her and the situation.

Westhaven did check on the horse and stepped out under the stables’ overhang to relieve himself, undoing his breeches and taking his cock in hand. His throat was scratchy from all their talking, and hefting the ax had set up an ache in his muscles that was equally unwelcome. Anna was getting twitchy about being stranded with him, and his temper was growing short. Not his best moment.

But then he looked down at himself and smiled, recalling the day’s earlier pleasures. Anna Seaton had a wanton streak that was going to win the day for them both. He shook himself off, gave himself a few affectionate strokes, then buttoned up. He was going to convince his housekeeper to trade her silly caps for a tiara, and he was going to use her passions against her shamelessly if he had to.

He tossed Pericles a small mountain of hay, topped off the water bucket from the cistern, and retrieved the provisions from the gig. On the way back to the house, he began to plan the seduction of his future wife, pausing to pluck her a single rose just as the sky opened up with a renewed downpour.

They dined on leftovers from the hamper, shared the lemonade, and talked by the fire as the light began to wane. He rubbed her back, held her hand, and avoided discussing the need to spend the night in the deserted house.

Anna rose from the cushions and stretched. “I suppose it’s time to admit we’ll be sleeping here tonight—the question is where specifically?”

Thank you, God, the earl thought. His Anna was being practical, though she wasn’t pleased with their situation.

“The master bedroom comes to mind,” the earl suggested. “The bed there was probably built where it stands and conveys with the house. The room was clean enough, but it will be cold without a fire.”

“We can haul enough wood up there to get the room warmed up,” Anna said. “Since the other option is this floor. With only a few blankets between us, we’re probably better off sharing that bed.”