The pace at Adwick Castle would have been dull had the four young people not had each other's company. Still, it wasn't long before the suggestion of a dance was mentioned and shortly after, Eliot became so enamored with the idea that it became a reality.

Benjamin mused at Eliot's motives as he watched the close planning conversations between both he and Miranda. Even the normally reserved Cassandra was excitedly offering suggestions. His aunt indulgently obliged all of their requests and made short work directing her large household staff. In no time, Adwick Castle was festooned with garlands, ribbons, and countless floral arrangements.

Sighing, Benjamin reluctantly got ready for yet another dance. He wasn't looking forward to watching Eliot whisk Miranda all around the dance floor, not to mention the town's most eligible gentlemen.

Hearing the telltale passage door open, he turned and gaped at Miranda. Wearing a midnight blue gown that accentuated her curves, and exposed a few, she looked stunning. Collecting himself, he said, "You look beautiful in that gown, Miranda."

Smiling, she teased, "What about without the dress?"

"Breathtaking, of course," he chuckled.

"Are you going to sulk in a corner tonight, or will you dance with me?" she asked.

Pretending to think, he replied, "I suppose I can spare a dance or two."

Swatting his arm, she went on, "Shall I just walk myself, or do you think you could manage to escort me?"

"I'm in a charitable mood tonight. I'll meet you out the front door in a moment."

Despite it being a spontaneous dance, one wouldn't guess it from the number of guests and carefully constructed decorations. Miranda was extremely pleased that everyone's hard work, though quickly done, produced such a successful evening. Judging by the pleased faces all around, she knew she wasn't alone in that assessment.

After making the rounds to greet friends and make introductions, the music began. Her first dance was promised to Eliot and when she had almost given up in finding him, she felt a hand slide across her waist from behind. Surprised, she jerked away and turned. "Eliot, you startled me. I wasn't expecting that kind of approach from a gentleman," she chastised.

He grinned, "Pardon me, my dear, I just couldn't resist, especially with you in that delectable dress."

Blushing, she motioned to the dancing couples, "They've already begun. I suggest we save the discussion for later."

Grasping her hands, Eli led her through the steps. There was no doubt he was a masterful dancer. She wondered if his grace and suaveness translated into more sensual skills. Guessing the answer was yes, she blushed an even deeper crimson.

"I do so wonder what is going on in that pretty head of yours," he whispered as the dance brought him closer.

At every opportunity, he let his hands linger, sometimes even trying to discreetly brush against forbidden places. For some reason, she recoiled. What was her problem? In many ways, she was drawn to Eliot. He reminded her of the heroes in her novels, with the sexual confidence oozing from every pore. Handsome, exciting, it all amounted to an enticing package that Miranda wanted. And sometimes she felt that want intensely with him. Yet other times, like now, she pulled away. Maybe she was still adjusting to the newness of Eliot's boldness. Perhaps she just needed time to give him a chance she reasoned. Still, when the dance ended, it was a relief to meet her new partner.

Sneaking away from the dance floor after some time, she located Francesca watching the couples waltz. "Are you enjoying yourself?" she asked her friend.

"Immensely. The dancing is so graceful! And then of course, there's the melodrama," she said smiling conspiratorially.

Curious, Miranda asked "Anything of interest?"

With a mischievous look, Francesca said, "Well, of course there are the warm looks between yourself and Eliot. However that's been going on for weeks. Anything you'd care to share, my dear?"

Flustered at her obviousness, Miranda confessed, "No, I mean I don't know. In many ways I fancy him, but there's something that holds me back."

"How so?"

"Well I'll often want to be with Elliot and want his…attention, but sometimes I feel it's too much and I don't want him close," she threw her arms up in frustration. "To be honest, Francesca, I'm still confused about the whole affair. I need to figure out my thoughts."

"I believe it's your feelings that need to be sorted. Love isn't an intellectual pursuit," Francesca softly replied.

"I'm sure given time I'll lose any reservations about him," she said, more confidently than she felt.

With a thoughtful look, Fran responded, "Hmm, yes time will certainly tell."

Eager to shift attention from herself, Miranda asked, "Any other budding romances?"

Laughing, Francesca answered, "I can't say for sure, but Benjamin and Cassandra seem to be enjoying each other quite a bit. For awhile now, I keep spying them together and look at them on the dance floor. Benjamin usually avoids it at all costs, so I'm told."

Following the direction of Francesca's hand, Miranda saw the two. Smiles were wide on both faces and they seemed oblivious to all else. She felt a pang in her chest. During the entire stay at Adwick Castle, she had had no inkling of their attraction. The surprise at facing it now paled only in comparison to realizing her reaction: jealousy.

It was an unusual experience, as Miranda would not consider herself a jealous person and had, in fact, never had much cause for the emotion. But staring at the two, she felt it, in spades. Benjamin was her friend, so she had no right to feel that way. In fact, she should be happy to see him find love. For some reason, however, she couldn't think of it with any pleasure.

Trying to tamp down her emotions, she plastered what she hoped was a convincing smile on and feigning nonchalance asked, "Who would have guessed. Has he mentioned his intentions to you?"

"Oh no, he doesn't know me well enough for that. Come to think of it, even if I were his real mother, he probably wouldn't confide in me," Francesca admitted. "Cassandra's such a sweet and lovely girl, though. Stuart and I would happily welcome her into the family," she beamed.

Ignoring her inner turmoil, Miranda sighed, "She truly is sweet and lovely."

The next morning came earlier than Miranda would have liked. Maybe I can just stay in my room all day, she thought. Not having to see anyone was such an enticing idea that she contemplated how to achieve it for several minutes before finally deciding hiding wasn't an option.

Even with her new resolve, she wasn't anxious to run into Benjamin and tried leaving her room early to avoid the possibility. Unfortunately as she closed her door, she heard his voice say, "I was afraid I would miss you, but it appears my timing was perfect."

Inwardly groaning, she assumed a cheery expression and faced him, "You always have impeccable timing." Once the words were out, she recalled his timing when catching her in the tub and blushed. Catching her meaning and her rosey cheeks his face turned a similar shade.

"Yes, I suppose I do," he murmured. "However, I was surprised to miss you twice last night. You did make me promise a dance, but I couldn't find you when our turn came. And then I was very surprised not to have a late night visit."

"I'm sorry I missed our set. I didn't feel my best, but I trust you had several other dancing partners," she replied with downcast eyes. Not wanting him to elaborate, she hurried on, "And with all of the activity it was a tiring night. So I went straight to sleep and thought you would appreciate no disturbances for the opportunity to do the same."

He looked thoughtful, as though he doubted her words. Raising his thumb to trace under her eyes, he whispered, "Then why do you still look so tired?"

Glancing away again, she laughed him off, "Between dancing myself silly and a fitful night's sleep, anyone would look tired."

"And why was it a fitful night? What kept you tossing and turning?" he pressed.

"It was the darnedest thing, I heard this noise outside the window, like a bird of some sort," she lied.

"Funny, I didn't hear a thing."

"Well that's a blessing, at least one of us could sleep." Quick to redirect his attention, she asked, "Shall we join everyone for breakfast?"

Gallantly offering her his arm, Benjamin said, "Allow me, Miss Bailey."

When they entered the dining hall, Miranda saw two older faces she didn't recognize.

"This is my nephew Benjamin and his friend Miranda Bailey," Lady Constance said, introducing them to the couple. "And these are my friends, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson," she continued, addressing Miranda and Benjamin. "I invited them to stay here after the dance, so they'd have more time to visit."

"Please call me Henry and my wife Beatrice," the man said. He had a kind face and turned every so often to adoringly pat his wife's hand. "Lady Constance has told us you are new to our town, Miss Bailey, tell me, what do you think?" he asked Miranda.

"Oh, it's lovely," she gushed. "The countryside is breathtaking and the townspeople are extremely kind."

"It is a special place," Henry said with pride. "Beatrice and I are both natives and despite traveling all over, there's nowhere else we'd rather be."

Curious about the loving couple, she questioned, "Did you always know each other?"

"Yes, we grew up together. But Henry and I were friends for a long time before we realized our feelings," Beatrice happily shared. "Actually, I always had a soft spot for him, but I daresay it took Henry a little time before he saw me as anything other than his good friend," she finished smiling into his face.

Miranda marveled that even after all this time, they still seemed as blissfully in love as many newly married couples.

As she mused, Henry went on, "She's still my closest and dearest friend, I'm just fortunate to also have her as my wife."

Thinking of her own dearest friend, Miranda quickly peeked at Benjamin. After watching the couple thoughtfully, his eyes locked with hers.

Finding the need for distance, Miranda decided to wander through the gardens. The rosebushes were magnificent and for a few blissful moments, she lost herself in admiration. Taking a more secluded path, she was surprised to come upon Cassandra who was in the midst of picking flowers. Trying to escape before she was noticed she stepped into the shadows, beating a hasty retreat.

"Miranda?" Cassandra called out. After facing her, recognition shown in Cassandra's face. "I thought that was you. Have you seen the dahlias yet? They're especially beautiful," she asked, gesturing to the flower patch she was cutting from.

"Indeed they are," Miranda answered, agreeing with her. "Are you picking them for your room?"

Smiling, Cassandra replied, "Oh, no. I was hoping to put a fresh arrangement in the dining hall and I was making another bouquet for the Allens down the lane."

"Are they good friends of yours?" Miranda asked, trying to be conversational.

"Very good friends," she said happily. Then with a reminiscent smile, she continued, "I first began to visit them several years ago to bring food and some other odds and ends. They don't have much, but they're lovely people."

Not only was Cassandra beautiful and innocent, she also had to be very kind, Miranda thought with a grimace. Still, as much as she wanted to dislike Cassandra, she couldn't help but grudgingly admire her. If this was who Benjamin chooses, then he would indeed be happy. And Miranda, in turn, would do her best to be happy for him, or at least appear that way.

"Well they're very fortunate to have your friendship," she responded with sincerity. Realizing distraction would be her ally, she asked, "Do you need any help?"

"That would be wonderful," Cassandra answered, grinning.

Searching for flowers did in fact keep her worries away. Also, quite unexpectedly, Cassandra proved to be an excellent companion. Having a girl near in age to discuss all manner of topics was exciting to Miranda. She couldn't help but wish that Cassandra lived closer. Still, she'd enjoy the moments at hand. Their time passed quickly with incessant chatting.

On the way back to the castle, Eliot met them. Dressed in all dark colors that closely hugged his frame, Miranda felt the familiar physical pull, "So this is where you've been hiding. My dear sister has kept you all to herself," he said with a knowing gleam in his eyes. "Pray tell, just what activity kept you occupied all afternoon?"

With a light laugh, Cassandra made short work to teasingly chastise her brother. "Miranda and I were having a wonderful time chatting and gathering flowers. We weren't doing anything mischievous as you are so wrongly insinuating."

Feigning a wounded look, Eliot countered, "I would never suggest that my dear angelic sister and our most cherished guess could ever do anything improper." His eyes then sought Miranda's and smoldered. "Actually, I was hoping Miss Bailey would do me the honor of taking a walk down the lane, if she hasn't had too much of the outdoors that is."

There was something about Eliot's request that made her a little nervous. Despite spending much time in each other's company, there had almost always been someone nearby. As the weeks passed, however, not only were they better acquainted, but each of Eliot's looks and touches had become longer and more intense. Where was it all leading? Deciding to stall the inevitable, she replied, "I don't think it's possible to be outdoors too much, unless the weather is inclement of course. I would be happy to join you for a walk, but I was going to help your sister in making the flower arrangements."

"Oh, there's no need. I would of course welcome your company, but please go and enjoy a walk. You've already helped so much!" Cassandra gushed.

Shaking off her worries, Miranda reasoned they wouldn't be far from the castle. Handing Cassandra her flowers, she turned to Eli "In that case, Mr. Lloyd, I accept your invitation."

Hand on his arm, she couldn't miss the bulge of his muscles underneath her fingers. How unusually strong he is for a gentleman, she thought. Though uncommon, his well-developed physique was certainly not a drawback.

The sun continued to shine brightly on their backs as they made their way down the lane. After some time, he asked, "Well, Miss Bailey, you've been at Adwick Castle for some time now. Tell me, have you enjoyed it?"

"Immensely! It's beautiful here, as you well know, but more than that the history is so rich and the people very kind."

Leveling her a heavy stare, he continued, "What would you say has been the most pleasurable?"

Thinking of her evening activities, she blushed. Quick to collect herself, she answered, "I really couldn't say, everything has made this trip memorable."

"There's no one thing or person more memorable than the rest?" he pressed.

"I…no, as I said, everything big or small has been wonderful," she answered feeling flustered.

Impatience shown clear in his face, "Honestly Miranda…" He broke off only to grab her shoulders and thrust her against a nearby tree. Wrapping his arms around her back, he hurriedly descended upon her lips and kissed her roughly. He then drove his tongue into her mouth with a practiced ease as his hands ran along her back, settling on her bottom with a firm squeeze.

Seduction was clearly Eliot's forte and Miranda automatically reacted. Despite the purely physical thrill shooting through her body, after the initial shock, her mind maintained a string of conflicting thoughts. Benjamin's kisses gently probed, or when intense ignited an unquenchable fire inside. His hands moved over her like they were an extension of her own body, leaving burning pleasure in their wake, whereas Eliot's hand stirred the barest trace of her passion. Why was it that Eliot, with admittedly more skill and charm paled into comparison to Benjamin?

Realization smacked Miranda with full force, causing her to break away from Eliot: Benjamin was the one she wanted, had always wanted. Her body had been telling her all along, but she was too busy foolishly holding onto a ridiculous ideal of the man she should want. Not only had her engrossment with Eliot been flaunted in Benjamin's face, but he now loved the captivating Cassandra. The cold hard truth threatened to overwhelm her and for once, she knew hiding away was the answer.

"Pardon me," she managed, "but I just remembered I had promised Francesca assistance." Wincing inwardly at the weakness of her excuse, she fled from Eliot before he could stop her.