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Chapter One

Bassington Lea, Hampshire, March 1823

A week before Easter, Ewan Macrae, Earl of Lyle, rode through a raging storuarding the door

“Good afternoon,” the lassie in the ragged brown skirt said coolly, holding the door open just far enough to speak to him To keep the rain out? Or to fend off unexpected earls?

At twenty-eight, Lyle wasn’t a green lad to stammer in a lady’s presence Still, he needed a few seconds to catch his breath and dredge some response from the mush that used to be his brain

Cinderella was very pretty

He sed, shifted on his feet like a yokel, and located a word or two Hardly original “Good afternoon”

Cinderella had crea loose around her slender shoulders Syh, slanted cheekbones Half a dozen freckles set off a sweet, straight nose

She really was a peach Not even the half-closed door could hide that

“You need to turn around and go back,” she said after an aard pause Fro yapped to warn off the intruder

“But I’ve only just arrived,” he said, trying a sreatcoat, a trickle of water traced a chilly path down his neck “I’d love to co it down in buckets”

To confirust of wind spattered raindrops across where he stood beneath the unreliable shelter of the portico Dah for Scotland

He was used to his s lassies Cinderella was racefully arched eyebrows darker than her hair, the ao back”

He struggled to appear hariven his devious plans for the next few days The distant barking built to a crescendo “I have business with Sir John”

“The htening on the door’s edge