Well, she was not going to throw her hat over the windmill for anyone less than the man she was going to marry, so tall, dark, blue-eyed rakish valets were not going to tempt her in the slightest. Then what, pray, her inconvenient inner voice enquired tartly, are you doing, getting all of a do-dad over one wink and an almost-kiss?

Maidenly modesty, she assured her inner voice sanctimoniously, and was giggling as she let herself into Penny's bedchamber.

'You've been ages,' Penny remarked. She was sitting up in bed and looked considerably better. 'Have you been exploring?'

'I've been getting a backache trying to remove the mud from this.' Rowan hung the pelisse in the clothes press. 'And flirting with Lord Danescroft's valet.'

'What?' Penny hopped out of bed, gaping. 'Truly? The one who winked at you?'

'Well, not the one who was his wife's lover, that's for sure. I don't know what it is about that man-he appears to employ valets of a decidedly amorous disposition. This one-call me Mr Lucas, if you please-crept up behind me in the brushing room and then almost kissed me, after telling me I looked delightful.'

She perched on the end of the bed and Penny sank down beside her, wide eyed. 'But I got in some telling remarks. I told him that you were devoted to your stepmother, even though she was quite frightful, and pined because she was not here and would probably expect your future husband to allow her to live with you.'

'Brilliant,' Penny said admiringly. 'That should put him off.'