Patience froze. He'd stopped directly behind her, and reached around her to grasp the handle; she watched his long fingers slowly close about it. And stop.

She could feel him behind her, mere inches away, could sense his strength surrounding her. For one definable instant, she felt trapped.

Then the long fingers twisted; with a flick, he set the door swinging wide.

Heart racing, Patience sucked in a breath and sailed into the dim passage. Without slowing her pace, she inclined her head in regal, over-the-shoulder dismissal. "I'll speak to Masters directly-I'm sure my aunt won't keep you long." With that, she swept on, down the passage and into the dark hallway beyond.

Poised on the threshold, Vane watched her retreat through narrowed eyes. He'd sensed the awareness that had flared at his touch, the quiver of consciousness she hadn't been able to hide. For gentlemen such as he, that was proof enough of what might be.

His gaze fell on the small grey cat which had hugged Patience Debbington's skirts; it now sat on the runner, considering him. As he watched, it rose, turned, and, tail high, started up the corridor-then stopped. Turning its head, it looked back at him. "Meeow/"

From its imperious tone, Vane deduced it was female.

Behind him, lightning flashed. He looked back at the darkened day. Thunder rolled-a second later, the heavens opened. Rain pelted down, sheets of heavy drops obliterating the landscape.

Fate's message couldn't have been clearer: escape was impossible.

His features grim, Vane closed the door-and followed the cat.

"Nothing could be more fortuitous!" Araminta, Lady Bellamy, beamed delightedly at Vane. "Of course you must stay. But the second gong will go any minute, so cut line. How is everyone?"