But she had stumbled over the abandoned slippers as she rose to her feet and lurched clumsily against his chest. They had both laughed. And then somehow they were not laughing anymore. Their arms went around each other and his lips had found hers in the darkened room.

It had been a long and sweet kiss, her first. She had been surprised by the warmth and softness of his lips, by the feel of his breath against her cheek, his hands roaming her back, and the strength and firmness of his body against hers. But most of all she had been surprised by the strength of her own reaction. The moment had seemed electrically charged. She had felt as if her body temperature had shot up. Eventually they had pulled apart and gazed at each other, wide-eyed.

"I should not be here with you, Robert," she had said shakily. "Aunt Matilda will be looking for me."

"You are right," he had agreed, and then, anxiously, "Elizabeth, have I offended you? I did not intend to take advantage of our being alone together, I swear."

"I am not offended," she had assured him.

He had reached out one hand and run his fingers lightly down one cheek and along her jawline. "I have known for some time that I love you," he had said. And he had bent his head again and lightly touched his lips to hers. "You must go, my love, before you are discovered here with me."

And she had gone, after squeezing her feet painfully into the slippers again. She had been dazed, astounded by the discovery that she, too, had loved for some time without realizing it.

Pushing the last pin into the coil of hair at the nape of her neck, Elizabeth again found it difficult to reconcile that memory of a tender, loving Robert with the afternoon's encounter with the cold, unfeeling Marquess of Hetherington.