Drawn to Lord Ravenscar. Anne Herries

went on. ‘I must make sure that the inhabitants of Little Mallows do not suffer when the next downpour comes.’

      ‘A leaking roof would be most unpleasant,’ Jenny said. ‘You should certainly see to it, Paul.’

      ‘I intend to,’ he replied, put down his cup and stood up. ‘It has been pleasant to see you again, Miss Dawlish. Please excuse me now...’

      ‘I, too, should be going if I am to be home in time to prepare for my cousin,’ Lucy said and stood up. She made a little curtsy to Paul. ‘I shall tell Mama to expect you both tomorrow—she will be so pleased. I shall see you tomorrow, dearest Jenny.’

      ‘I shall walk with you to the door,’ Paul said politely and stood back to allow her to leave the room first. He followed her into the hall. ‘Do you still prefer to ride rather than use a carriage, Miss Dawlish?’

      ‘If you recall...I was about to be given lessons when...’ She faltered and looked at him. ‘Forgive me, I should not have mentioned it.’

      Paul stared for a moment, then inclined his head. ‘I had forgotten, but it was I who promised to teach you to drive in my phaeton, was it not?’

      ‘Yes...’ Lucy blushed. ‘It is not important. My father sends a carriage and groom if the weather is damp.’

      ‘A promise should always be kept. You will be busy with your cousin visiting, but if you would like to handle a phaeton and pair I shall be happy to oblige you, Miss Dawlish. I believe we have a suitable rig and horses that are amenable to a lady’s hands.’

      ‘Thank you, sir. Perhaps when my cousin has settled in. It would be rude of me to leave her to amuse herself too soon.’

      ‘Of course.’ He bowed his head to her as they reached the door. ‘Your gown is very becoming, Miss Dawlish. Yellow was always your colour—and I fancy your hair is done in its former style today.’

      ‘Yes.’ Lucy felt a tingle of pleasure as she gazed into his eyes. For a moment her breath came faster and she wished that he would give some sign that he cared for her. ‘You are observant, Captain Ravenscar. I would not have expected you to notice.’

      ‘Oh, yes, I notice everything about you,’ he said gravely.

      Now what did that mean? Was it a mere pleasantry?

      ‘Please take care on your ride home. I’ve heard there may be a gang of poachers in the area.’

      ‘I have my groom with me and Briars is always armed.’ She curtsied slightly. She waited a moment longer than necessary, hoping for something more, but he gave no sign that he had more to say to her. ‘Goodbye, sir.’ Lucy extended her hand; he took it briefly in his own, bowing his head, but he did not hold it longer than a second nor did he attempt to kiss it.

      ‘I shall see you tomorrow.’

      Lucy smiled as best she could and left him at the door. She did not look back and was quite unaware that he waited to watch as her groom helped her to mount, going back into the house only when she rode away.

      Lucy gave her attention to her horse. Head up and back straight, she trotted down the drive, fighting the foolish desire to weep.

      Her heart was behaving very foolishly. Lucy had wished that Paul might kiss her hand, or at least show some sign of being affected by her nearness, but apart from some kind words about her gown he had shown none. Not that she truly knew what he said to her at the door, for her chest was tight and she’d found it difficult to breathe.

      What was it he had said about noticing everything about her? Lucy had been feeling so odd that she hadn’t really heard what he did say—and what did he mean by it? Why would he notice everything about her? That sounded as if he cared...but his manner was so solemn, so reserved—polite but distant, as if they scarcely knew one another. If he cared for Lucy, he must surely have shown it by a look or a touch, but his manner had been completely impersonal. Friendly enough for a neighbour, but nothing in his gestures or his voice had suggested anything more...and she would be a fool to hope for it.

      She had meant to be as cool and reserved as he was, but she was very much afraid she must have shown how affected she was by his proximity as they stood at the door.

      * * *

      Paul went up the stairs to his own bedchamber. For a moment there he had been close to speaking out, to asking Lucy if she had missed him, but he had managed to control himself. For a moment the desire to sweep her into his arms and kiss her had been almost overwhelming, but he had banished the foolish urge. She could not wish for anything from him other than friendship. Her manner was softer that morning, her smile more like the girl he’d known, though he could still sense that she was holding back.

      Well, what did he expect? She had reminded him of a promise to teach her to drive his phaeton; it had been given only the day before Mark was murdered. What might have happened had he begun the lessons he’d promised?

      Would she have withdrawn her promise and turned to him?

      For a moment he remembered the gown she’d worn that day when they met out riding—the look in her eyes as he’d teased her about driving his phaeton and the smell of her perfume. She’d worn a soft floral scent then, but now she wore something more sophisticated...with undertones of something exotic that he found sensual.

      Lucy had become a sensual woman. Paul realised with a shock that the girl he’d fallen in love with had changed in a way he was not sure he liked. There was still something of the old Lucy about her at times, but she was older...different, a cool sophistication in her manner that he found difficult to accept.

      What had he expected? He was not such a fool as to imagine that she would have waited all this time for him...that she would not have changed or grown up, was he?

      If he had, he was truly a fool.

      Paul regretted the months he had allowed to pass without attempting to see or even write to her. When he’d left her that last time, he had meant to join her in Italy, to get to know her...perhaps to court her once they were both ready. He did not know what had made him draw into himself, throwing his heart into his work. Somehow, he’d convinced himself that she would not wish to receive his advances...that he would be betraying the brother he’d revered by making love to the girl that Mark had intended to marry.

      How could he take what ought to have been his brother’s? Yet she had remained in his heart and mind, taunting him with what might have been, if Mark had lived. He might then have taken her from him, for all was fair in love and war—but he could not fight a ghost.

      When he’d allowed himself to think of her, he’d seen Lucy as she was before Mark died, but she had changed.

      He had left it too late, Paul realised sadly. Lucy had grown away from him, dealing with her grief without his help. He’d seen the way she responded to Daventry. Adam’s friend was a man of address, sophisticated and wealthy. Lucy probably preferred someone like him to a man she’d known all her life. Paul was only eighteen months her senior and all her life she’d treated him like a brother...until that dance...

      He caught his breath as the memory struck at him like the thrust of a knife. Was it too late to court her now? Perhaps she would allow him to give her lessons in driving. It would be a first step to breaking down the barrier between them...to the start of a new friendship.

      * * *

      Lucy was thoughtful as she rode home. For a moment as they talked, she thought she’d seen something in Paul’s manner...something that showed he was not completely the cold, reserved man he seemed. Perhaps he, too, found it difficult to break down the barrier that had grown between them? Lucy wondered if it was really too late to recover the friendship they’d known. She might have read more into his manner, into a certain look she’d seen in his eyes on several occasions before everything came tumbling down. It might be that he had never truly loved her—had just been flirting with the girl his brother meant to marry.

      Perhaps if she put all thought of a romance between them from her