felt about this man was unwise.
"I'm an only child," he answered readily. "My mother and father are still living. Down in Hampshire."
"You're a gentleman," Amy said and tried to revive her teasing note. "You spend winter hunting, spring dancing and gambling."
"I don't gamble," he said with a lazy smile. "And I spend the summer sailing."
Amy's heart gave a little lurch. "Oh, I envy you!" Then she wished it unsaid. It was not wise to show one wanted things.
"You like to sail?" he asked. "Strange for a person living in the middle of the country."
"My father took us once with a friend," she said primly. "It was very pleasant." It was one of the best times of her life, but she didn't want him to know that.
He looked at her quizzically but then moved the automaton a little. "When I was interrupted," he said with a smile, "I was trying to see the state of the spring at the top of this lady's leg. I'll feel better about such a delicate operation now she has a chaperon."
Amy grinned at the thought. "Does my charge have a name?"
"Not as far as I know. Why don't you christen her?"
"Jane," Amy promptly said.
He looked at the elegant lady with the silk clothes and the high powered hairstyle. "She doesn't look like a Jane to me, but if you wish." He began to inch his fingers up the doll's leg.
Amy giggled and felt herself color. "As Jane's chaperon, I don't think I should allow you to do that, sir."
"Think of me as her doctor," he said, and something in the way he said it set Amy's heart speeding. She was determined not to embarrass herself by showing it.
When he lifted the skirts to reveal layers of silk and lace petticoats, she protested again. "Really, sir! Can you not, as some doctors are supposed to do, examine by feeling alone?"
His eyes twinkled. "I'm afraid not." There was more to the words and the smile. Or Amy felt there was more. As his sensitive, long-fingered hands moved Jane's pale, porcelain leg Amy felt her face heat. She imagined his hands on her own leg.
He lifted that leg and stretched it.
Amy leapt to her feet.
He looked up and there was a flicker of humor in his eyes. "Is something the matter?"
"The dress," Amy gasped. "I must turn the dress!" She fled over to the hearth.
Parts of the gown were dry, but other parts were very damp. Amy rearranged the gown so that the thicker parts of the bodice and sleeves would be close to the heat, wishing she was near something cold, not hot, so she would have a chance to cool her burning face.
She couldn't think what had come over her. She had never had such thoughts before in her life. And with poor Mr. Crisp. The one man who had not ogled her, or protested his devotion, or done anything at all to embarrass her. And here she was having lewd thoughts about him.
When she'd finished with the dress, she sat in the chair by the fire but still watched him from half a room away.
He looked over. "Are you cold? There are more blankets."
"N - no." Amy swallowed. "I'd better keep an eye on the dress. It might scorch. I can preserve poor Jane's virtue from here."
He accepted it and they sat in silence as he worked, only the crackling of coal and the ticking of the kitchen clock to disturb the peace. His fingers were constantly entangled in the silk and lace of Jane's petticoats, and Amy's thoughts were extraordinary.
Then Amy realized the rain had stopped, and a glance at the window confirmed this. There was even a lightening as the clouds lifted, but the natural darkness of evening was gathering.
She glanced at the clock. "It's five o'clock," she said. "I should go."
He looked up from his work. "So it is. We'll go in a minute, but I think I've fixed part of Lady Jane. It was just a loose connection. Come and look."
As if pulled by strings, Amy moved back to the table. He gave the key a few turns. A sweet, tinkling minuet started and the lady turned slightly. Her leg began to rise in an elegant and amazingly realistic manner.
There was a ping, and it collapsed limp again as the music slowed and stopped.
He laughed "A long way to go yet, I'm afraid."
Amy touched the silk skirt. "She will be lovely when she works, though."
"Yes."
She looked up and their eyes met.