His features hardened. He muttered a curse, followed by, “God, you’re so damned easy.”

Her eyes widened, then her lips set. She wriggled furiously; he swung her down, set her on her feet. She pulled away, stepped back, briskly brushing her bodice free of leaves, then shaking and straightening her skirts.

Francesca recalled she’d been miffed at him-even before that comment. He’d said he’d call in the morning-it must have been noon before he’d deigned to arrive. She’d lain in wait to waylay him. When he hadn’t shown, she’d gone riding to calm herself. What did noon say of his eagerness to win her?

As for his attitude! No wooing, no loverlike embraces-just hot passion and bold seduction. All very well that the latter appealed to her rather more than the former-he couldn’t have known that. Was he so uneager… or was it, perhaps, that he was so sure she’d accept him?

And what, exactly, did he mean by her being “easy”?

She threw him a sharp glance as she knelt to check the kittens. “I understand you’ve made an offer, my lord.”

Gyles stared at her back as she counted the kittens; he kept his frown from his face. If she’d heard about that… ”I have.”

Who the hell is she? Before he could ask, she said, “There’s six here-we’re missing three.” She stood and looked about. “This house of yours-Lambourn Castle. Is it really a castle? Does it have battlements and towers and a drawbridge and moat?”

“No moat or drawbridge.” Gyles glimpsed a grey kitten hiding beside a rock. He went to fetch it and it danced away. “There’s a section of battlements remaining over the front entrance, and two towers at either end. And there’s the gatehouse, too-that’s now the Dower House.”

“Dower House? Is your mother still alive?”

“Yes.” He pounced on the kitten and collared it. Holding it by the scruff, he carried it to the basket.

“What does she think of your offer?”