‘Oh!’ She gasped and stopped to look up at him, outrage in every line.

Halting beside her, Hazelmere laughed and gently touched her cheek with one long finger, further increasing her ire. ‘I repeat, Miss Darent-you need an attendant. Don’t risk walking in my woods or anywhere else without one. In case the country beaux haven’t told you, you’re by far too lovely to wander alone, despite your advancing years.’

The amused hazel eyes held hers throughout this speech. Dorothea, seeing something behind the laughter which made her feel distinctly odd, could find nothing to say in reply. Irritated, furious and light-headed all at once, she turned abruptly and continued along the path, skirts swishing angrily.

Glancing at the troubled face beside him, Hazelmere’s smile deepened. He sought for a suitably innocuous topic from the tangle of information poured into his ears by his great-aunt before her death. ‘I understand you have recently lost your mother, Miss Darent. I believe my great-aunt told me you were staying with relatives in the north.’

This promising sally fell wide. Dorothea turned her wide green eyes on him and, ignoring the dictum that ladies should not answer a gentleman’s question with another question, asked breathlessly, ‘Did you see her, then, before she died?’

The marked degree of disbelief, for some reason, stung him. ‘Believe it or not, Miss Darent, I frequently visited my great-aunt, of whom I was very fond. However, as I rarely stayed longer than a day, it’s hardly surprising that neither you, nor in all probability the rest of the county, were aware of that fact. I was with her for the three days prior to her death and, as I was her heir, she endeavoured to instruct me in the families of the area.’

This speech, not unnaturally, brought the colour to her cheeks, but instead of turning away in confusion, as he expected, she met his eyes unflinchingly. ‘You see, we were such good friends that I was most unhappy not to have seen her again.’