She lay back on the shawl, crossing her hands beneath her head.
“Ah,” she said, “that is better. I wonder just how many stars we can see.”
“If you wish to count them,” he said, chuckling as he turned his head to look down at her, “please do not let me stop you.”
“And there must be as many more that we cannot see,” she said.
“How far does the universe stretch, would you say?”
“Forever,” he said.
“My mind cannot grasp forever,” she told him. “There must surely be an end somewhere. But the big question is-what is beyond the end?”
He lay down beside her, still chuckling.
“I suppose,” he said, “there are astronomers and philosophers and theologians who will not cease seeking the answers and perhaps one day they will succeed. I share your curiosity. But sometimes I just marvel.”
“Yes.” Her eyes roamed across the sky. “We were meant to seek. But we were also meant simply to accept and enjoy. You are right. I can see the Big Dipper. It is the only thing I can identify by name, alas. But it does not matter, does it?”
“It does not matter,” he agreed.
They turned their heads to smile at each other and then both gazed upward again, glorying in the wonder of it all.
And yet…
And yet there was suddenly another dimension to the awareness Anne felt. They were close enough that she could feel his body heat along her right side. They were a man and a woman lying together on a deserted hilltop at night, almost but not quite touching. They had talked and talked together. They had laughed together.
They were friends, she thought.
But it was not friendship that added a certain spice to the heightened sensual awareness that star-gazing had brought. It was something far more carnal. She felt his masculinity and secretly reveled in it though she had no wish whatsoever to act upon it-or to have him do so.
Or perhaps she did.
She was just terribly afraid-afraid of him, afraid of herself.
She did not explore either her thoughts or her feelings in any depth, though. She simply enjoyed the moment, knowing that when she was back at school, deep into the routine of the autumn term, she would remember this night and relive every moment, every sensation, and perhaps even shed a few very private tears for what might have been in her life if only…
But how could she ever wish to change anything from her past, even the ugliest thing of all? Without it there would not be David.
“Miss Jewell,” Mr. Butler said softly at last, “it has just occurred to me that we must have been out here for a long time. Perhaps the dancing is over and the neighbors gone home. Country people do not usually keep late hours. I hope I have not compromised you in any way.”
“Of course you have not.” But she sat up, checked her hair, and got to her feet while he got to his. “Nobody even noticed us leave, and no one will notice our return. And even if anyone does, it does not matter, does it? We are merely two friends out taking the air together.”
“Friends.” He looked at her and smiled as she shook out her shawl and draped it about her shoulders. “I am glad we are. I wondered after the last time we walked together.”
They were standing very close to each other, she realized. She felt an almost overwhelming urge to reach out her hand and touch his cheek again. But he was making no move to touch her in any way. She wondered if he wished to-and if she really wished to touch him.
She did not touch him. And she was glad he did not touch her. For if she did, or if he did, it would surely be more than just a simple touch this time. She would not be able to bear being kissed by him. She wanted it and cringed from it.
And the idea that she might cringe gave her pause. Cringe because of his appearance? Or because the last man to touch her had been…?
She turned away.
“I’ll race you to the bottom,” she said, and took off running and slipping and sliding and shrieking and laughing-and hurting her feet-until she arrived at the bottom of the hill all in one piece a few moments after him.
He was grinning his lopsided grin as she fell into step beside him, breathless and still laughing.
The dancing was just ending as they entered the drawing room through the French windows. There was a bustle of activity as all the outside guests found one another and their belongings and took their leave of the duke and duchess and the houseguests and one another.
It was an opportune time for their return, Anne thought. No one would have even noticed that she and Mr. Butler were gone.
“I must go too, Miss Jewell,” Mr. Butler said, making her a half-bow. “You still wish to join me on Sunday morning?”
“Oh, yes,” she said. “I shall look forward to it.”
She watched him as he took his leave of the duchess and realized that right now at this moment she felt buoyantly happy.
Like her son, she thought, she needed male companionship as well as female. It had been so lacking in her life. She would miss him when…But no, she would not think of that.
Today was Thursday. There were three days to go to Sunday-she actually counted them off on her fingers.
In three more days she would see him again.
“To a service that will be all in Welsh so that she will not understand a single word?” Morgan, Lady Rosthorn, said, staring at Joshua. Then her face lit up with mischief and delight. “How very promising, to be sure.”
“Promising?” Lord Aidan said, his brows coming together in a frown. “A church service? I will go to my grave, Morgan, without a glimmering of an understanding of the female mind.”
“He has invited her to go to church with him?” Lord Alleyne rolled his eyes. “A bold and risque move indeed. I did not know Syd had it in him to be such a devil of a fellow.”
“Perhaps,” Lord Rannulf said, grinning, “they need a chaperone. Any offers? Josh, you are the one who claims a relationship with the lady.”
“But I am also the one who has been entrusted with the task of taking her son to church with everyone else,” the marquess said. “I cannot be in two places at the same time, Ralf.”
Judith clucked her tongue.
“Putting them together at dinner on Thursday evening certainly was an inspired move, Christine,” she said. “It worked just as we thought it might.”
“Though Free almost ruined all by talking Syd’s ear off,” Lord Rannulf said. “I almost gave myself the migraines with all the nodding and winking I did in her direction.”
“Oh, nonsense, Ralf, you did no such thing!” Freyja retorted. “Of course I talked to him. One cannot be too obvious about these things. If Syd had suspected even for a single moment that we were busy matchmaking for him, he would have run a hundred miles without stopping, and who could blame him?”
“Not me, Free,” Lord Alleyne assured her.
“And I believe Miss Jewell would run two hundred, Freyja,” the duchess said. “Indeed, she would be spending this whole month hiding in a dark corner if we gave her half a chance, would she not? Did you notice how she slipped away from the breakfast table a few minutes ago instead of lingering like the rest of us? I like her exceedingly well. And I do agree that she and Mr. Butler might well suit if they are just given a fair chance to become acquainted.”
“Fair being the operative word, Christine,” Lord Aidan said. “Why it should be thought that merely because Sydnam and Miss Jewell are both lonely souls they must therefore belong together escapes my understanding.”