Kai followed her from the gallery, ignoring the glances that followed them. She led him through the entrance hall and up the winding stairs to a private suite.Mrs Bradshaw's suite was elaborate but comfortable, with sturdy upholstered furniture, walls decorated with French wallpaper, a blazing fire dancing in the fireplace. The cupboard in the living room is overflowing with a collection of dazzling crystal glassware. Mrs Bradshaw lifted a small wineglass from the silver tray and glanced at him with a questioning look. "Brandy?"Kai nodded immediately.She poured a red-yellow liquid into the glass. Skillfully, she struck a match and lit a candle on the cupboard. Holding the base of the cup, she lightly heated the wine glass over the fire. When she felt the wine was warm enough, she gave it to him.He had never had a woman do this to him before.Brandy was rich and nut-flavored, a scent that gently brushed his nose as he drank. Looking around the living room, Kai saw rows of bookshelv

She was here. He knows that well. Kai watched the party's lively guests as they wandered through the gardens behind the Highland.His hand slid into the pocket of his coat, finding a small box containing Torcia Sette's portrait. Slowly, his thumb stroked the glossy surface of the enamel on the box as he continued to stare at the crowd.After two months of searching Torcia had brought him to Hampshire, a region of heather-carpeted hills, ancient hunting forests, and unbelievable marshes.The county to the west was quite developed, with twenty rich trading towns filled with wool, wood, dairy products, honey, and bacon. Among the famous properties ofHampshire, Highland is considered the most beautiful. The manor house and a private lake are located in the fertile Itchen valley. "Not a bad hideout," thought Kai wryly. If his suspicions were proven correct, Torcia would have found work in the house of the earl of Wessex, serving as his mother's maid.In the course of his hunt for Torcia,

"I'm not," she admitted.They stopped at the door of the south tower, where the high-ranking servants, including her, lived. Streams of light streamed from the splendid windows, and streaked across the cobbled paths. Now Torcia saw that his hair was not black but brown. A shiny, dark brown, a mix of maple and mink colors. She wanted to touch his hair and feel it slide through her fingers. The closeness stirred her.Stepping back, she gave him a regretful smile. "Goodbye sir. And thank you for being such a pleasant escort.""Wait". He said, there was a plea in his voice. "May I see you again, Miss Ezra?""No, sir. I'm afraid all my time is occupied by the widowed countess."Those words didn't stop him—she saw it in his eyes."Miss Ezra...""Goodbye," she repeated warmly. "I hope you have a good day off, sir." She quickly left, well aware of his angry look.When Torcia reached her room, she locked the door and sighed. Since she had come to Highland, she had been regularly offered sugges

Jerking his gaze away, Sydney gazed at the heather field with intense bewilderment, as if his thoughts were struggling to curl up against the emotional triggers."Let's make a wish". Torcia urged. "I'll throw a tongs down the well for you next time I come."Sir Sydney shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was strangely hoarse. "I don't know what to wish for".They remained silent, heading out of the mud and following the trail to a pedestrian bridge over a small stream. Across the stream, the wet grass was inviting, resplendent with patches of cute, waist-high yellow shrubs.“This way,” said Torcia, lifting her skirt above her knees as they stepped over the grass and heather, and approached the boundary of the fence. "Over the fence, is the path leading through the forest to the Highland." She pointed to the tall archway, too narrow to hold even one person through it at a time. Glancing at Sir Sydney, she comforted her when she noticed that he had regained his composure. "The only

She'd spent so many years learning properity in Doren, and still struggled so silently as Lady Wessex's servant, that she couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to. raise voice. Seizing the moment, she howled and squealed like brides-to-be around her in a crowd gathered on the lawn. From somewhere ahead, a shout of joy rang out in the crowd. The winner, a healthy red-haired girl, climbed atop her fiancée's broad shoulders, gleefully waving a bouquet of wildflowers. "I found it," she chirped. "I got him. He's mine."In cheers, the villagers surrounded the newly betrothed couple, while scattered disappointed virgins ran into the forest. A swarm of men rushed after him, ready to begin a night of hunting.Smiling, Torcia followed with a leisurely pace, with no desire to be the target of attention from over-aggressive amorous men. Within minutes, the party participants would pair up and she would sneak back to Highland. Pausing at the edge of the forest, she leaned against a sturd