―My brother is named Frederick."

He could not imagine why she was telling him all this, but it seemed to be taking her mind off her troubles, so he went along with it. ―Is Frederick one of the fleet-footed ones?"

―He is, actually. Also the Winslow Most Likely Not to Become a Vicar." She motioned to herself with one hand. ―I would have certainly beaten him atthat , had the girls not been disqualified on religious grounds."

―Of course," he murmured. ―Most likely to fall asleep in church and all that." Then it occurred to him to ask, ―Did you actually do it? Fall asleep in church?"

She let out a weary sigh. ―Every…single…week."

He chuckled. ―We would have made quite a pair."

―You, too?"

―Oh, no. I never fell asleep. I was ejected for bad behavior."

She leaned forward, eyes sparkling. ―What did you do?"

He leaned forward, smiling wickedly. ―I‘ll never tell."

She drew back. ―That‘s not fair."

He shrugged. ―Now I just don‘t go."

―Ever?"

―No. Although to be honest, I probably would fall asleep." He would, too. Services were very poorly timed for people who did not sleep well at night.

She smiled, but there was something wistful in it, and she rose to her feet. He started to get up, but she held up a hand. ―Please. Not on my account."

Sebastian watched as she walked to the window, resting her head against the glass as she peered out. ―Do you think he‘s still there?" she asked.

He didn‘t pretend he didn‘t know exactly what she was talking about. ―Probably. He‘s very tenacious. If your grandparents tell him they expect you to return soon, he‘ll wait."

―Lady Olivia said that she would drive past Vickers House after her appointment to see if his carriage is there." She turned around, and she didn‘t quite look at him as she said, ―She didn‘t have an appointment, did she?"

He thought about lying. But he didn‘t. ―I don‘t think so."

Annabel nodded slowly, and then her face seemed to crumple, and all he could think was, Oh God, not more tears , because he wasn‘t good with tears. Especially not her tears. But before he could think of an appropriately comforting thing to say, he realized—

―Are you laughing?"

She shook her head. While she was laughing.

He came to his feet. ―What is so funny?"

―Your cousin," she sputtered. ―I think she‘s trying to compromise you."

It was the most ludicrous thing he‘d ever heard. And true.

―Oh, Annabel," he said, walking toward her with predatory grace. ―I was compromised a long, long time ago."

―I‘m sorry." She was still laughing. ―I didn‘t mean to imply…"

Sebastian waited, but whatever it was she hadn‘t meant to imply was lost in a fresh gale of laughter.

―Oh!" She leaned against the wall clutching her middle.

―It wasn‘t that funny," he said. But he was smiling as he said it. It was impossible not to smile while she was laughing.

She had an extraordinary laugh.

―No, no," she gasped. ―Not that. I was thinking of something else."

He waited. Nothing. Finally he said, ―Care to tell me what?"

She let out a snort of laughter, possibly through her nose, and she clapped both hands over her mouth, nay, her entire face.

―You look like you‘re crying," he said.

―I‘m not," was her muffled reply.

―I know. I just thought to tell you that, on the off chance someone comes in and thinks I made you weep."

She peeked through her fingers. ―Sorry."

―What is so funny?" Because really, by now he had to know.

―Oh, it was just…last night…when you were talking to your uncle…"

He leaned against the back of the sofa, waiting.

―You said you wanted to restore me to the bosom of society."

―Not the most elegant turn of phrase," he allowed.

―And all I could think was—" She looked as if she were going to explode again. ―I‘m not so sure I like society‘s bosom."

―It‘s not my favorite bosom," he concurred, trying very hard not to look at hers.

This only seemed to make her laugh more, which made her quiver in rather bosomy areas.

Which had quite an effect on certain of his areas.

He stopped moving.

She covered her eyes in embarrassment. ―I can‘t believe that I just said that."

He stopped breathing. He could only look at her, look at her lips, full and pink, still suspended in a smile.

He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her more than he wanted to breathe. He wanted to kiss her far more than he had sense, because if he‘d been thinking sensibly, he would have stepped away. Walked out of the room. Found himself a very cold bath.

Instead he stepped toward her. Put his hand over hers, holding it gently in place over her eyes.

Her lips parted, and he heard a soft whisper of air rush across. Whether she‘d exhaled or gasped, he didn‘t know. He didn‘t care. He just wanted her breath to be his breath.

He leaned forward. Slowly. He couldn‘t rush it, couldn‘t risk losing one second of it. He wanted to remember this. He wanted every last moment burned into his memory. He wanted to know what it felt like to be two inches away, and then one, and then…

He touched his lips to hers. One tiny, fleeting touch before pulling back. He wanted to see her, to know exactly what she looked like after a kiss.

To know exactly what she looked like waiting for another.