Dangerously enchanting, in fact. He had felt the pull of her attractiveness as if it were a tangible force. He had wanted to stay there and talk with her. He had felt relaxed and happy for a few minutes. Until there had been that tension between them. And then quite unexpectedly, without any warning at all, he had wanted more. His arms had ached to reach out for her. She had looked infinitely desirable. Afterward, in fact, he did not know by what good fortune he had overcome the urge to close the distance between their mouths. The pull had been almost irresistible.

And she had felt it too. When he had withdrawn in confusion, she had leapt to her feet, clearly agitated. And she had assured him that she had not been flirting with him. And she had told the simple truth. There had been no flirtation on either side. Nothing that might explain or excuse what had happened. And something had definitely happened, even if they had not so much as touched each other.

Perhaps he was refining too much on a small matter, he had thought in the days that followed. Perhaps she had forgotten about it as soon as they returned to the party. But he did not think so. She had blushed and looked quite unlike her usual bright self on the two occasions on which he had seen her since. She remembered too. And she was as uncomfortable as he.

But what could he do? David thought now at Singleton Hall, knowing that soon she would be arriving at Oakland and that he would no longer be able to avoid frequent meetings with her. Apologize? But how could one apologize for something that had not happened? Openly discuss his unease with her? Impossible. He could only hope that the embarrassment would have passed with time. After all, she would be busy with her houseguests, and he would be occupied with his new parish work.