She paused for a long moment before she heaved a heavy sigh.

"I have the oddest premonition."

"What is that?"

"That everything is about to change."

The wistful note in her voice tugged at Anthony's heart, but his determination never wavered. He could make her happy, he told himself. He would devote his entire life to that purpose.

"Is that so terrible?" he asked softly.

"I am not certain that I like the notion."

"Certainly change can be unnerving, but it can also be quite d-delightful."

"Delightful in what way?" she demanded.

"Rachel." He reached out to gently pull her to her feet. For a moment he debated whether to propose first and kiss her after her agreement, or go straight for the kiss. Then the sound of approaching footsteps intruded into the peace of the garden. "Damn. I wish to speak with you. Will you take a stroll with me?"

She hesitated a long moment, then clearly sensing his unyielding determination, she gave a slow nod of her head.

"If you wish." She allowed him to take her arm and lead her from the garden. In silence they crossed the parkland, then as they entered the fringe of trees she glanced to his set countenance. "Are we going to visit Julia?"

"No, not today, I think," he murmured, steering her deeper into the dappled shadows.

"You are very quiet. Is something the matter?"

Coming to a halt, he firmly turned her to face him. Absurdly he felt a faint flutter of nerves deep in his stomach. He had never proposed before. He sincerely hoped he did not make a hash of it.

"You could say that, I suppose."

"What is it?"

"Actually it is you."

The haze eyes widened at his blunt retort. "Me?"

"Do not look so surprised, my dove." His hands absently stroked the line of her shoulders. "You are well aware that you have been leading me a merry chase. It was only a matter of time before I was firmly captured."

She stiffened with a wary unease, her tongue peeking out to wet her dry lips. "I suppose you are teasing me?"

"N-no. I have never been so serious in my entire life."

He heard her breath catch at his low words.

"I think perhaps we should return to the house."

His hand tightened on her shoulders. "I have never know you to be a coward before, Rachel."

As expected, his insult scraped at her staunch pride. "I am not a coward. I merely wish to return to the house."

"No, you wish to avoid discussing our future," he retorted in stern tones. "You do not want to admit that something magical is happening between us."

He felt her shiver even as she jutted out her chin in a stubborn motion.

"Magical? Is that your way of implying you desire to lure me into an affair?"

He resisted the urge to shake a bit of sense into her. Blast, but she could be difficult when she wished to be.

"If I wished an affair you would even now be my mistress and I would not be spending every deuced night pacing the floor."

His bold claim made her lips part in shock. "You are very confident in your skills, sir."

"Can you deny that had I been bent upon seduction I would most certainly be your lover by now?"

A surprising hint of color stained her cheeks as she struggled to evade the truth.

"Many gentlemen have attempted to seduce me."

"But has one ever stirred your passions?" he relentlessly demanded. "I have only to touch you to feel you shiver in response. Has any other gentleman ever made you feel in this manner?"

His hands shifted, trailing up the curve of her neck and lightly along the line of her jaw.

"Please," she said softly. "I can not think when you do that."

Anthony's entire body tingled with the sharp-edged pleasure he always felt when he touched this woman.

"Admit the truth, Rachel. You desire me."

For a moment Anthony feared that she might refuse to acknowledge the searing heat that simmered between them. Then the heavy lashes fluttered downward.

"Very well," she grudgingly whispered. "I will admit that I have never before felt as I do when you kiss me."

"And if I wanted to seduce you I could have," he persisted.

"Perhaps."

His fingers moved of their own will to race the softness of her lips.

"But I do not desire an affair, Rachel. I have known from the beginning that this was no passing fancy. This is no flare of lust that will swiftly die."

In a sudden panic her gaze flew upward. "You do not know what you are saying. Of course it will die."

"I am not a callow schoolboy that allows his p-passions to rule his heart," he retorted with rising impatience. "Certainly I want you in my bed, but I also want you seated across from me while I eat my breakfast and close beside me when I ride in my carriage and growing heavy with my child."

She abruptly slipped from his grasp, her hand pressed to her heart.

"You must stop this."

He relentlessly followed her retreat. "Why?"

"I have told you that I shall never wed."

"You must realize that you are being nonsensical."

"It is not nonsensical."

"Yes, it is." His gaze bore deep into her wide eyes, willing her to realize he was not to be turned aside by her absurd notions. "You are far too intelligent to allow insubstantial fears of what you may or may not do in the future to ruin your life." He abruptly reached out to grasp her hand and pressed it to the erratic beat of his heart. "Tell me what you fear, Rachel. Is it me?"

She appeared genuinely startled by his question. "Of course not."

"Then what is it?"

Her fingers splayed against the thin lawn shirt, testing the heat of his chest. Anthony shuddered in response.

"I am afraid of hurting you."

Anthony briefly closed his eyes as he regained command of his renegade body. He would not seduce Rachel into marriage. She would agree to his proposal of her own free will.

"There will no doubt be occurrences when you do hurt me," he said in gentle tones. "Just as there will b-be occasions when I unwittingly hurt you. I do, after all, have an annoying habit of disappearing to my workroom and I am not as romantically inclined as some maidens might desire."

A small but genuine smile tugged at her lips. "Yes, there is that."

His heart leaped beneath her hand as he sensed her initial panic beginning to subside.

"I am also faithful and extraordinarily loyal to those I love. You will never want for anything as my wife."

"Wife." She tasted the word slowly, almost as if she were trying it on for size.

"It does have an appealing ring to it, does it not?" he questioned in husky tones.

"Anthony."

Her hand raised from his heart to tentatively touch his cheek. A warm tide of relief surged through Anthony at the revealing motion. It was the sign of surrender he had been waiting for.

A low groan rumbled in his throat and his arms reached out to wrap about her so he could at last claim the kiss he had longed to savor, but before he could lower his head a shrill giggle tore through the silence and Rachel was abruptly spinning away.

"What was that?"

Anthony heaved a frustrated sigh. Gads, would he ever get his kiss?

"I believe our mysterious ghosts have returned," he muttered, wishing them in Jericho.

He was on the point of suggesting they return to the house when he realized that Rachel was paying him no heed. With undisguised curiosity she impulsively plunged through the underbrush in the obvious intention of discovering the owner of the ill-timed giggle. Anthony swallowed a curse, already suspecting precisely what Rachel was about to discover. "Rachel, no."

"I wish to discover who it is," she called softly, darting between the thick trees.

"Wait," he commanded, already in swift pursuit.

He was not swift enough, however, and as he rounded a large bush he discovered Rachel standing in frozen shock.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, giving only a brief glance to the couple locked in a passionate embrace upon a blanket before dragging Rachel away. She stumbled in silence beside him until he at last forced her to sit upon a fallen tree at the edge of the woods. "Rachel, look at me."

She slowly lifted her darkened gaze to his pale countenance.

"That man. He was a servant?"

"Yes," he admitted in tight tones, recalling the livery coat that had been tossed on the ground.

"Do you know, I had begun to feel a measure of sympathy for Mary," she said in soft tones, destroying Anthony's vague hope that she had not had the opportunity to recognize the young woman who had been with the servant. "Lord Newell is a weak, selfish gentleman with no love for her."

"Rachel, this is none of our concern," he said firmly, cursing the ill fate that had brought the indiscreet lovers to the woods on this afternoon.

"Of course it is." She lifted her head, a bit of color returning to her pale cheeks. "Lord Newell believes Mary to be a virtuous maid. For all we know she might already be carrying the child of that man."

"It is between Lord Newell and Miss Hamlin," he said, his brows lowering as she absently nibbled on her full bottom lip. "Did you hear me, Rachel? This matter is a private affair."

Without warning she abruptly rose to her feet, a distinct glow of battle in her hazel eyes.

"Not any longer."

Anthony's heart sunk at the crisp determination in her voice.

"Rachel, what are you plotting?"

She smiled with a sweet innocence that sent a cold chill down his spine.

"I have just been struck with the most amazing notion. It will solve everything."

Anthony stepped back, throwing his hands up in the air.

"Dear God, save me from the plots of Cresswells."

Fourteen.

Rachel dressed carefully the next morning, girding herself for battle with great attention to detail. For once she ignored the brilliant gowns that shimmered in the morning sunlight, choosing instead a muted rose gown with a black spencer trimmed with rose velvet ribbons. Tying a rose bonnet on her curls, she retrieved the brooch she had discovered in the woods and dropped it into her reticule. Once assured she looked the role of a determined lady of business, she slipped from the quiet house and made her way through the garden.

She sucked in a deep breath of the spring-scented air as she headed directly for the parkland. Although she was confident in her scheme, she knew that it would take every bit of her courage and skill to succeed. She had, in fact, devoted the entire night to rehearsing precisely what she would say when she reached Broswell Park.

Well, perhaps not the entire night, she conceded with a tingle of excitement. At least a part of the long night had been spent recalling Anthony's lovely proposal.

Who would have thought such an intelligent, charming, utterly delectable gentleman would ever fall in love with her? Or that he would be so determined to make her his wife?