“We have no capes,” she answered, but she very much wanted to go.

The Earl of Glenkirk snapped his fingers at a passing servant.

The man stopped. “Yes, my lord?”

“Two warm cloaks for the lady and for me,” the earl ordered.

“At once, my lord, if you will wait here,” the servant responded, and he hurried off. They stood silently until he returned a few moments later with the required garments.

The Earl of Glenkirk took a long nut-brown wool cape lined in warm marten and draped it over Rosamund’s shoulders. He moved around before her and carefully fastened each of the polished brass frogs that closed the garb tightly. Then he gently drew up the fur-lined hood. Each time their eyes met, Rosamund had this incredible sense of dйjа vu. “There,” he said and then, turning, took the other cloak from the servant. When he had dressed himself, he thanked the servant and took Rosamund’s hand to lead her outside into the winter gardens.

It was very cold, but the air was still. Above them the night sky was ebony in color and dotted with stars that twinkled crystal, blue, and red. They walked in silence until the lights of the castle were but glittering gold points and they could no longer hear the murmur of the many voices within the hall. Then suddenly he stopped. He turned her so that she was facing him, pushing back the hood of her garment, taking her small face within the enclosure of his two big hands.

Rosamund’s heart began to hammer with her excitement. Each time their eyes met it was as if this very moment had happened before. She could not for the life of her look away from him, and when his dark head slowly descended, his lips brushing gently over hers several times as if tasting her, it was she who cupped his head in her palms, and drew him down to kiss him hungrily. She shuddered as their mouths met that first time. Or was it for the first time?