Once and Always @FOREVER.

Nine.

By the next afternoon, Victoria still had not been able to put Jason's earthshaking kiss out of her mind. Sitting on the grass beside Willie, she stroked his proud head while he gnawed on the bone she had brought him. Watching him, she thought again of Jason's easy, smiling attitude when the kiss was over, and her stomach knotted as she compared her own innocence and stupidity to his sophistication and brittle worldliness.

How could he have held her and kissed her as if he were trying to devour her one moment, and then joked about it the next? And where, she wondered, had she ever found the ability to match his lighthearted mood when her senses were reeling and her knees were knocking together? And after all of that, how could he look at her with those freezing eyes of his and advise her not to make the same mistake "dozens" of other women had?

What made him behave like that? she wondered. He was impossible to cope with, impossible to understand. She had tried to befriend him, only to end up being kissed. Everything seemed so different in England; perhaps here, kisses like that were nothing out of the ordinary and she had no reason to feel guilty and angry. But she did. Loneliness for Andrew swamped her, and she shuddered with shame for her willing participation in Jason's kiss.

She glanced up as Jason rode toward the stables. He had gone hunting this morning, so she'd been able to avoid him while she tried to gather her wits, but her reprieve was coming to an end—the Earl of Collingwood's carriage was pulling up in the front drive. Reluctantly, she arose. "Come, Willie," she said tightly. "Let's go tell Lord Fielding that the earl and countess have just arrived, and spare poor Mr. O'Malley a needless trip to the stables."

The dog lifted his great head and regarded her with intelligent eyes, but he didn't move. "It's time you stopped hiding from people. I'm not your servant, you know, and I refuse to keep bringing your meals out here. Northrup told me you used to be fed at the stables. Come, Willie!" she repeated, determined to take control of this small part of her life, at least. She took two more steps and waited. The dog stood up and looked at her, his alert expression making her certain he understood the command.

"Willie," she said irritably, "I am growing excessively impatient with arrogant males." She snapped her fingers. "I said come!" Again she stepped forward, watching over her shoulder, fully prepared to drag the obstinate animal by the scruff of his neck if he refused. "Come!" she said sharply, and this time he followed slowly in her wake.

Buoyed up by her small victory, Victoria walked toward the stables from which Jason was emerging, his long rifle hanging loosely from his hand.

In front of the house, the Earl of Collingwood lifted his wife down from the carriage. "There they are, over there," he told his wife, nodding in the direction of the stables. Tucking her hand affectionately in the crook of his arm, he started across the lawns toward the other couple. "Smile," he teased in a whisper when her steps lagged. "You look as if you're going to face an executioner."

"Which is more or less how I feel," Caroline admitted, shooting him a sheepish smile. "I know you will laugh, but Lord Fielding rather frightens me." She nodded at her husband's astonished look. "I am not the only one who feels so—nearly everyone is in awe of him."

"Jason is a brilliant man, Caroline. I've made enormous returns on every investment he's been kind enough to recommend to me."

"Perhaps, but he is still horridly unapproachable and . . . and forbidding, for all that. Moreover, he is capable of giving the kind of crushing setdowns that make one positively wish to sink. Why, last month, he told Miss Farraday that he dislikes simpering females—particularly those who cling to his arm while they are simpering."

"What did Miss Farraday say to that?"

"What could she say? She was clinging to his arm and simpering at the time. It was most embarrassing."