Anything but a Gentleman by Amanda Grange

least, to try.
    But she had not stepped back far enough, and for answer he ran the back of his hand over her cheek. ‘Can you deny the way this makes you feel?’ he asked softly. ‘Can you pretend it doesn’t make you burn inside?’
    ‘Lord Ravensford.’ She tried to keep her voice level, attempting to fight down the tide of sensations and emotions that were rising inside her. ‘Are you trying to seduce me?’ Her words were intended to shock him back into polite conversation but they did nothing of the kind.
    ‘If I was trying to seduce you, you would already be . . . ’ on your back by now , he almost finished. But his hand, grazing her cheek and then pushing back her vibrant black hair, revealed a pearl earring; an earring he himself had helped Kit choose. With a flash he remembered that she was his friend’s sister, and that he was here to help her; not to taunt her with her passionate nature, a nature which he himself had unforgivably roused. He had forgotten how to behave in polite company, it seemed.
    He took his hand away from her face and, reaching up, took down the candles and tinder box. Within a few seconds he had managed to get one of the candles to light. The others, their wicks dampened by the air, took longer, but at last burst into flame. Letting a little of the molten wax drop onto a rock shelf at shoulder level he stuck the candles securely to the rock.
     ‘How long will it take the tide to go down?’ he asked, returning the conversation into more normal channels.
    ‘Enough for us to be able to get back? A little over an hour.’
    ‘Will you not be missed?’
    ‘No. I told Trudie I was going for a walk. I am often gone for an hour or more, when I can spare the time.’
    ‘Good. I’m glad your life is not all work. Will you not sit down?’ He swirled his coat down onto the sand, making a soft, dry blanket for her to sit on.
    She sighed; and then smiled. ‘So am I!’ She settled herself on the greatcoat, sitting down with her knees pulled up to her chest. ‘But tell me,’ she said, eager to turn the conversation away from the unsettling paths it had so far seemed inclined to follow, ’what were you doing on the seashore anyway?’
    He gave a wry smile. ‘I, too, was taking a walk.’ As he spoke he sat down on a boulder, one foot raised on a smaller stone. ‘It’s just lucky for me that you saw me when you did. I wouldn’t have liked to have tried to swim against the tide.’
    ‘It’s dangerous here,’ she acknowledged. ‘There are a number of treacherous undercurrents. We were both frightened of them – Kit and I, that is – on the day we discovered the cave.’
    ‘You were cut off?’
    She nodded. ‘Kit at the time was only twelve and I was ten. To make matters worse, we hadn’t told anyone where we were going. But then we discovered the crack and found the cave behind it. After that, we came here regularly. I did wonder –’
    ‘Yes?’
    She gave a twisted smile. ‘I did wonder, when he disappeared shortly after Christmas, if Kit had come down here. It was a favourite haunt when either of us was in trouble of any kind. I came to look for him as soon as I thought of it, but there was no sign of him. That’s when I accepted he’d really gone.’ She wrapped her arms round her knees, hugging them to her. Her cloak fell in loose folds round her, the swansdown lining not only helping to keep her warm but also helping to keep her dry. ‘But I’m still worried about him. And still concerned about Mr Windham.’
    He frowned, leaning one elbow on his raised knee.
    She had the feeling that he could say more about Mr Windham if he had a mind to, but at the moment he was keeping silent.
    ‘You said Mr Windham was vicious, and I felt it, too,’ she said. ‘But if he is not in the pay of the money-lenders, then who is he?’
    He sat up straight, looking at her appraisingly, as if wondering what to tell her. Then he seemed to come to a decision. He threw down the piece of