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“I can imagine little Phee with grass sticking out of her gown, arguing with your sister over whether a cloud more resembled a horse or a frog.”

“We didn’t always argue,” she defended herself.

Which wasn’t entirely true. There had been rather a lot of disagreements, now that she thought upon it.

“But you see?” she continued. “It depends on the cloud. A cloud could look like a house.”

“Fair enough, but no. It’s not a cloud.”

She sighed. “I concede. What was it?”

“A pineapple.”

She lifted her head and looked at him again. “A pineapple?”

“It’s a delicious fruit.” He shrugged indolently. “Do you find fault with it?”

“No, it is only that I cannot fathom that you drew a pineapple. It felt nothing like one.”

“Perhaps you didn’t concentrate hard enough.”

“Your touch is distracting,” she admitted.

He flashed her a rakish grin that showed off his dimples. “I shall take that as a compliment, love.”

He was wickedly handsome. Charming, tempting, and the pleasures he had shown her…

Good heavens, she was still blushing to think of it all.

“Let’s play a different game,” she suggested.

“What game?”

“The question game. We can each ask each other only one question, and whoever refuses to answer must forfeit the point.”

“Ah, you’re sounding rather cutthroat, my dear.”

“It’s another game my sister Lucinda and I used to play,” she confided. “We had great fun with trying to invent the questions for each other. Of course, it isn’t as if we had many secrets to keep.”

“You are close with your sister?” he asked.

“Not as close as you and Aphrodite, of course. But the two of us are on good terms. She prefers the countryside and has a large family now that she’s happily married to Lord Ponsford. You are fortunate to have your sister so near to you in London.” She laid her head back down, running her fingers through the dark hair on his chest. “Since you’ve used up your question, it is my turn to ask you one.”

“That’s not fair,” he protested. “You never established when the game had begun.”

“I have now.”

He heaved a sigh. “I do believe you are making the rules to suit yourself, but carry on, then. Ask your question.”

She gathered her courage. “Is Mrs. Gilpin the woman you spoke of before, the one who betrayed you with a friend?”

She felt his muscles tense beneath her and held her breath, wondering if he would answer. Perhaps she had gone too far. Asked too much of him.

“You needn’t answer,” she told him hastily.

“I’ll answer.” He brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen across her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. “She is the woman I mentioned, yes. But as I said, she is from my past and there is no place for her now in the present, regardless of how much she may wish for there to be.”

His words would have been reassuring had she not instantly thought of how one day all too soon, Ophelia would also be from his past as well. She swallowed against a vicious rush of emotion, knowing this was how it had to be for them. He would one day marry a beautiful young woman and begin a family. Ophelia already had a family to look after and protect. And that was why she had come here to Wingfield Hall. Not for any other reason.