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impenetrable nonetheless. Still, she roused feeling within him that he’d never felt before; emotions that he was desperate to experience more of. “Cece, I care for you. I think that we would make an excellent match. I’m sure there is a solution that would suit us all.”
    She ran a hand over her hair, smoothing the blond curls that had sprung free during their kiss. “There is a solution. Remember me fondly, as I will always remember you.” She started to walk for the door, but hesitated before leaving. “While I think it’s best that we don’t see each other again, I want you to know that I will never, ever forget that kiss. It was absolutely perfect, and I thank you for sharing it with me.”
    And just like that, she was gone. He sank back onto the sofa, stunned by the turn of events. She wanted to thank him?
Thank him
? Bloody, bloody hell.
    He’d let her go, let her return home and stew on their encounter for a while. He would wait. And when the moment was right, he planned to remind her of
exactly
how well they suited.

Chapter Seven
    And to think the day had begun normally enough.
    Cece had risen at her normal time, dressed in her second best morning gown, and enjoyed her normal breakfast of toast and tea. She had tended to the plants in the conservatory and conferred with Mrs. Kelly about the week’s menu, and by the time she arrived in her father’s office at exactly one o’clock, there had been absolutely no indication that in a matter of moments she would be rendered mute with shock.
    But that was exactly what she was as she stared down at the signature scrawled at the bottom of the letter she had just opened.
    Edgerton.
    “Well, who is it from, Cecelia?”
    She swallowed and looked up at her father, who sat tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair. Out of practicality, Cece sat behind the stout fruitwood desk that dominated the room. Today’s post lay at her elbow while paper, quill, inkwell, and blotter were arranged in front of her, awaiting only Papa’s direction for his responses.
    She pressed a hand to her pounding heart, hoping to keep it from jumping right from her chest. “The Viscount Edgerton, Papa.”
    Saying the name that she had steadfastly refused to utter in the two months since she’d seen him reminded her of the sound of opening a jar of preserves for the first time. Almost like an equalization of pressure within her, though for the better or worse, she didn’t yet know. The memory of that last, perfect kiss assaulted her so powerfully, she put her fingers to her tingling lips.
    Papa tilted his head, his sightless eyes trained on the ceiling. “Lord Edgerton,” he said, drawing the word out as if working a puzzle. “Where do I know that name?”
    Where, indeed. Cece cringed, waiting for the missing piece to fall into place. Well, let’s see. Perhaps it’s from the time your daughter kissed him full on the lips in front of half of Aylesbury?
    A scratch at the door signaled Mrs. Kelly’s arrival with their tea. Almost before she knew what she was doing, Cece dropped the letter to her lap and out of the housekeeper’s view. It was a completely absurd thing to do—the woman couldn’t care less what the letter held—but that didn’t seem to matter. Cece didn’t want anyone else catching even a glimpse of Finn’s words before she had a chance to read them. As it was, it was all she could do not to throw everyone from the room and pore over his words in peace.
    Mrs. Kelly bustled in, the stiff black fabric of her bombazine skirts swishing with military precision. Her red hair was scraped back into the same bun she wore everyday, not a single strand daring to stray from its allocated position. “Here we are, then. Mind you finish the whole cup, Squire—it will help with the cold you’ve got coming on.” Her words were quiet and efficient, barely hinting to her Irish birthplace.
    While Cece tapped her foot under the cover of the desk, anxious to be able to get back to