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She shot up. Pulling the covers aside, she stared at the rectangular linen-wrapped package at her feet.

Heavens above. The kiss! Had that been real, too?

Her fingers brushed her lips. It had been so soft, barely a whisper of contact. But then she had pulled him down and kissed him with reckless fervour.

A hot flush surged through her, head to toe, and she fell back into her pillow with a groan.

She couldn’t possibly have done that. Could she?

That hadn’t really happened, had it?

And if it had, he’d kissed her back. In fact, he’d been the one to kiss her first. Her eyes glazed over as she relived the kiss repeatedly. How vexatious that she’d been half asleep when it had happened!

But what had she been thinking?

And what had he been thinking?

She paced in the room, in her nightgown and bare feet. She stopped short, in front of the window, her eyes growing wide as the realisation sank in.

She wasn’t falling in love with him, was she?

That would be a disaster.

That could, on no account, ever happen.

She pulled at her earlobe in increasing worry.

She was here as an impostor. A pang of guilt shot through her. He did not know who she really was. She’d deceived and lied to him. She’d done it for Phoebe.

Phoebe, who had wanted her presence, but even that had been a lie. Anna had accompanied her because she’d believed she needed to protect the girl from her uncle, but the girl had merely pretended to fear him. She’d merely wanted her will to be done, possibly out of boredom, or loneliness, and had succeeded.

The truth was that there was no real need for Anna to stay here.

Her time would be up soon. The summer was drawing to a close and she would have to return to the seminary.

In the meantime, she could, under no circumstances, get any closer to the earl, kiss him or, heaven forbid, fall in love with him.

It was unheard of.

Nothing would come of it.

That was the plain truth of the matter.

Her shoulders slumped. She lowered her head and found, to her surprise, a tear glide down her cheek. She licked it up with her tongue.

She was a housemaid. He was an earl.

She laughed harshly.

How could this ever end well?

* * *

She readied herself quickly and pulled her hair back tightly to form a more severe bun than usual. Her dress was grey and plain, and as she cast a look in the mirror, she nodded. There was nothing whatsoever attractive about her. She should keep that in mind when she met the earl again. With some luck, he would be absent today, as well.

But of course, the fates had joined forces against her.

As soon as she entered the breakfast room, she saw him sitting at the head of the long oaken table, carving into a piece of meat. She thought of turning on her heel and fleeing, but he spotted her immediately.