Charlie was supposed to have taken it with him, but he hadn’t managed to catch it before he left for school this morning.

“It absolutely has to be back today, Mum,” he’d told her, “or I’m toast.”

“I’ll catch him,” Freddie had promised blithely at ten minutes to eight. She’d been trying ever since.

Now she could almost reach the little creature. If only she had longer fingers…or the rotten bunny wasn’t terrified…or…

The knock on the door startled her. She jerked and banged her head on the desk next to the refrigerator. “Blast!”

Another knock came, louder and more persistent than the first.

Freddie didn’t want to answer. She knew precisely who it was-Mrs. Peek. Freddie had been expecting her ever since she’d learned yesterday that Stanton Publishing had bought The Gazette. Mrs. Peek, the village’s most ardent gossip, was bound to appear, eager for a cup of tea and the latest news.

Freddie was only surprised it had taken her so long.

When Lady Adelaide Bore, a member of another Family Of Note in the neighborhood, had run off with her groom, Mrs. Peek had known about it before the ink was dry on the farewell note.

A third imperious knock.

Irritably, Freddie pulled Charlie’s old mac around her like a dressing gown and, still rubbing the bump on her head, opened the back door.

It wasn’t Mrs. Peek.

It was a man. A lean, ruggedly handsome man with thick, ruffled dark hair and intense blue eyes. A memorable man.

Freddie remembered him at least. And she had no doubt that Mrs. Peek would, too.

It was Lord Randall Stanton. The heir.

Or was it? Suddenly Freddie wasn’t sure.

Freddie had met Lord Randall Stanton two or three times when he’d brought his grandfather down for a visit to the ancestral home. Lord Randall had always been charming, solicitous, unfailingly polite. Very public school. All his tailoring bespoke. She couldn’t imagine him being caught dead in blue jeans.