he dismissed them. She was all too obviously flesh and blood, and here he was in a situation where it would be positively caddish to show how he felt.
It was an effort to keep the calm smile in place but he made it.
"I would like a piece of pie," she said softly. Her voice was as well bred as he'd thought and very musical.
He went and cut a slice of the pie. "Do you want to eat it there?" he asked.
The angel stood warily, holding on to the blanket. Harry watched, fascinated, unable to suppress the wicked hope that it might come loose and fall. But it stayed secure. With the cream wool down to the floor and the white towels over her shoulders the young woman looked like an Egyptian goddess except that Egyptian goddesses did not have clear blue eyes and an aureole of spun-gold curls.
She sat at the table and started in on the pork pie, her hunger confirming the fact that she was blessedly human. Harry made the tea, using the time to strengthen his self-control. When he was sure he could treat the vision like his Aunt Betty, he carried the pot to the table, along with two cups, a pitcher of milk, and the sugar bowl, then sat opposite. If all he could permit himself was a feast for the eyes, then at least he'd make the most of it.
"I must apologize for the state of the hospitality," he said lightly. "We only have one servant here and he's gone off to visit his sister. He was supposed to be back tonight, but with the weather he won't bother."
"We?" she asked, startled.
"It's all right," he reassured her. "They won't be back either. They'll have racked up somewhere." He saw her relax and was pleased at how she trusted him. He just hoped he could prove worthy of that trust. "Coppice Farm belongs to my friend, Terance Cornwallis," he explained as she ate. "I'm staying here for the season with another friend, Charteris Ashby."
"Meltonians," she said with a trace of anxiety.
Harry could understand that. The avid hunters were little enough trouble when the scent was up and the hounds running, but if weather canceled the hunts, boredom often led to mischief.
"Not really," he said. "Meltonians are the great guns, the top of the trees. We've a way to go yet." Now that it had brewed, he poured tea into their cups. "I would like it if you would give me your name."
She was startled, which certainly did nothing to mute the effect of her eyes. She had clearly not thought that he did not know her. "Amy de Lacy," she said readily. "Of Stonycourt."
His first impression had been correct. She was a lady. A wild thought began to take possession of his mind. If he had to marry, why not marry an exquisite creature like this? Then he'd be entitled to look at her as much as he pleased and discover if the form beneath the blanket was as promising as it appeared.
He took a breath and stopped his imaginings before they appeared on his face. "I'm afraid I don't know the area very well," he said. "Is Stonycourt near here?"
She sipped from her cup of tea and gave what seemed to be an excessive sigh of pleasure. "About five miles away, over the Lincolnshire border."
"You're a long way from home."
Surprisingly, she colored. That did nothing for his control either. She looked like a naughty, tempting cherub. "I... I was supposed to be picking up some layers. We didn't expect such weather."
"No one did, or I doubt even my hunting-mad friends would have gone out."
She tilted her head to one side, and there was a glint of teasing humor in her eyes as she said, "And are you not hunting mad?"
He laughed. "Caught, by Gad! Don't tell anyone."
"Certainly it's a heresy among men," she agreed.
"It's not that I don't like the sport," he assured her. "It's just that I'm not mad for it. There's nothing like a fine run on a clear crisp day, but to be slogging along on a soggy one is something I can do without."
Amy was feeling most peculiar. It was not just the rain and the cold followed by dry and warmth; it wasn't even the fact she was sitting here most unconventionally dressed, alone with a gentleman; it was the way he was behaving.
It wasn't that he was unaware of her looks - she'd seen a betraying flicker or