"Matthews. Elizabeth Matthews." She performed an awkward curtsy that dislodged several clumps of dirt from her gown. "I wasn't lurking. I was walking and heard a kitten meowing. The poor little fellow was caught in the bushes. I managed to rescue him, only to find myself entangled in the very same hedge."

"Where is your chaperone?"

Her expression turned sheepish. "I, um, managed to escape while she was dancing."

"She isn't lurking in the bushes?"

She appeared so amazed by his question, Austin knew she was either alone or the finest actress he'd ever encountered. And he suspected she was a poor actress. Her eyes were too expressive.

"Do you question if everyone lurks in the bushes? My aunt is a lady and does not lurk." She squinted at him. "Oh, dear. I really must look a fright. You have a most peculiar expression on your face. As if you just tasted something sour."

"You look… fine."

She burst out laughing. "You, sir, are either incredibly gallant or extremely shortsighted. Perhaps a bit of both. While I appreciate your effort to spare my feelings, I assure you it's not necessary. After spending three months on a wind-tossed ship sailing to England, I'm quite accustomed to looking frightful."

She leaned toward him, as if she were about to impart a great secret, and her scent assailed his senses. She smelled like lilacs, a fragrance he knew well for the gardens abounded with the purple flowers. "An Englishwoman traveling on board the ship was fond of muttering about 'Colonial Upstarts.' Thank goodness she isn't here to witness this debacle." Sticking out her foot, she examined her one remaining grass-stained slipper and heaved a sigh. "Good heavens. I am indeed a spectacle. I-"

A mewling sound cut off her words. Looking down, Austin watched a tiny gray kitten pounce from beneath the hedges and attack the flounce trailing from Miss Matthews's gown.