And his hands were so very large-which meant-

Good God-she was carrying on like an infatuated adolescent.

Perhaps she should spend a few hours with young Harry and assuage her sexual urges, she tersely thought; he was always so grateful for her company. But boyish gratitude didn't hold much appeal when Ranelagh's virile maleness was in the forefront of her brain. Nor did young Harry's sweetness prevail over the unabashed impatience in Ranelagh's eyes.

"No!" she exclaimed, the sound of her voice shocking in the confined space of her carriage, as was the flagrant extent of her desire.

She really, really needed to talk to Rosalind. Her friend was always the voice of reason… or at least one of caution to her rash impulses.

Lady Ormand was entertaining at tea and Alex had to sit through a long, tedious hour before the last guest finally departed. "How do you stand it?" Alex exclaimed as the footman closed the door on the Viscountess Compton. "The conversation was solely of frocks and gowns. Do those women have a life beyond visiting their modiste?"

"Gwendolyn brought Emily and May today since they're in town, and you know how-"

"Shallow they are?"

Her friend smiled. "Indeed. But consider, you learned how to get Brussels lace for half price from Honitons."

"If I'd been listening after the first five minutes, I might have."

"I commend you for your courtesy, then. I doubt they noticed. So tell me, darling, what brought you here at such a dangerous time of day? I know how you dislike teatime."

"I needed your counsel or advice"-Alex paused-"or perhaps only a sympathetic ear." And she went on to explain the tale of her introduction to Ranelagh.