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“Is that what happened tonight?” Penelope asked, pinning Vivian with a look. “You were flushed when you came into the dining room, and Mr. Yarnsby looked a bit...flustered.”

“No.” Vivian was not prepared to discuss the kiss. Not until she had an opportunity to analyze what exactly had transpired and why.

As the house quieted, Vivian could not sleep. Her mind raced over and over the kiss. Why had she done it? Curiosity? Or perhaps the darned seduction book. If not for reading about the signs a man was aroused, it never would have happened.

In truth, Vivian was aware that men were sensual creatures, driven by their basic needs. In a discussion she’d attended on different animal species, the lecturer had explained that most male mammals could not control themselves around a female. Humans were mammals and caught in scandalous situations because of basic needs more often than not.

No, she could not blame the kiss on Mr. Yarnsby; she’d been the one to initiate it. Although he’d responded quite ardently. Vivian’s pulse quickened, and she took shallow breaths, hoping not to wake Penelope.

It was dreadful that she was in the dark hyperventilating over a kiss.

Most troublesome.

When her fingers pressed against her lips, Vivian’s eyes closed of their own volition. He’d held her so tightly, their bodies touching, lips crushing. The way he’d tasted and smelled was just as she’d imagined. Admitting that she’d considered what it would be like to kiss him was not telling much, in her opinion. It was common for a woman to think of a man in such a manner.

The rest of the evening, she’d managed to avoid being alone with him and had been glued to either Penelope or Clara’s side.

When the other family had visited, she’d been pleasantly surprised by the couple’s son, who’d entertained them with stories of his travels. He was pleasant to look upon and of good stature.

Although, she had to admit to constantly looking to Mr. Yarnsby to gather his reactions. He’d seemed to like the man, and they’d obviously already met before.

Albert, or was it Gilbert? Yes, Gilbert Foster. No, perhaps Richard. Goodness, how could she not remember his name?

“Anthony Foster.” Came Penelope’s sleepy voice. “Do you wish to speak to me or keep talking to your invisible friends? It is most distracting.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t sleep.”

“You don’t say,” Penelope replied in a dry tone. “Are you still reeling from whatever happened between you and Mr. Yarnsby?”

Unable to keep from it, she let out a breath. “I kissed him.”

“You kissed?” Penelope exclaimed, sitting up and immediately slipping from her bed and over to Vivian’s. “Tell me everything.”

* * *

Breakfast, like most meals at the country estate, was served on platters, which were set in the center of the table.

William and Clara sat on one side, he on the end and she to his right. Clara wore a thick robe, which swallowed her almost entirely. Only her face and hands were fully visible.

“The room is much too cold in the mornings,” she explained.

Vivian had to agree. As nice as the large windows and wonderful view, they made the dining room extra frigid.

“Which is why I’m wearing a thick shawl that I purchased during our shopping trip with Mr. Yarnsby,” Penelope explained. “I rather like this room. Eating while enjoying the view is pleasurable.”

Vivian nodded. “I agree. It is a beautiful home. Every room is so lovely.”

Her sister beamed. “I love it here. I finally understand why you would rather spend your time here than in London,” she told William, who smiled at her.

The dogs, who’d been sleeping by the hearth, jumped up and rushed to the door.

“Ah, Alex is here,” William said. “He will be staying here until after Twelfth Night.”

“Why?” Vivian couldn’t keep from asking. “I thought he had his own estate.”

“He does,” Clara replied. “But he’s given the entire staff time off to visit with their families for the holidays and is therefore home alone. He normally lives here through the holidays but went there for a few days to oversee some repairs.”

“Is it a large home?” Vivian asked. “I know his late father was quite wealthy.”