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He smiled. “I am glad to hear it.”

Mrs. Densley gestured to the young lady at her side. “May I have the pleasure of presenting my granddaughter to you, Lord Cheston.”

“Of course.” William braced himself. He had yet to meet the young lady’s eyes.

Mrs. Densley smiled. “Charlotte, I should like you to meet our host, Lord Cheston. My lord, this is my granddaughter, Miss Charlotte Densley.”

William inclined his head as Miss Densley dropped into a curtsey.

“Welcome to Tribbley Hall, Miss Densley,” he said.

“Thank you, my lord.” She straightened, and he found himself looking into a pair of blue eyes flashing with barely repressed anger. “We are only recently arrived, and yet my short time here has already proven to be most diverting.”

William had expected embarrassment and awkwardness. Indeed, he’d been fully prepared to offer the mortified young lady an apology for keeping his identity from her. But it appeared that Miss Densley was no shrinking violet, and upon meeting her eyes, the words of regret died on his tongue.

“I am happy to hear that Tribbley Hall can offer diversion to someone who is used to experiencing the many amusements of London.”

“Yes,” she said. “It really is quite remarkable. Although the city often boasts things that are not what they seem, I had not thought to find the same in the country.”

“Forgive me for being blunt, Miss Densley,” William’s mother said, “but it would seem to me that deceit of any kind should be avoided no matter where it is found.”

Miss Densley offered her a small smile. “I completely agree, my lady.”

Swift and sure, William’s feelings of remorse returned. Clearing his throat, he offered Miss Densley his arm. “May I escort you to dinner, Miss Densley?”

She hesitated, and for one awful moment, he thought she might refuse. A fraction longer, and her civility rose to the fore.

“I would be honored, my lord,” she said, and turning her face away from him, she set her hand upon his elbow.

Charlotte kept her eyes to the front as she walked with Lord Cheston to the dining room, indignation vying with embarrassment. Had he been secretly laughing at her during their interaction at the barn? She’d been foolish to assume that Lord Cheston was closer to her father’s age than her own. Her grandmother had made mention of the fact that the baron was significantly younger than his sisters. Why, oh why, had she not taken the time to think through the numbers?

Her astonishment when Lady Cheston greeted the handsome, young gentleman at the drawing room door as her son had been nothing to her shock when she’d realized that he and the farmhand were one in the same. True, the baron had never offered her his name, but surely good breeding should have impelled him to identify himself. Especially after requiring her to disclose her name.

She released a frustrated sigh, and she felt Lord Cheston glance at her.

“I believe I owe you an apology, Miss Densley.” His voice was low, cautious. “Although it was never my intent to deceive you at the barn, I allowed you to leave unaware of my identity. That was remiss of me.”

“If you had forgotten to tell me Soot’s name, it would have been remiss, my lord. To not share that you were the master of the house rather than a simple laborer was both ungentlemanly and unkind.”

His arm tensed beneath her fingers. “Although it may be hard for you to believe, I think this may be the first time I have ever been accused of those things.”

She hazarded a glance at his face and was taken aback by the chagrin she saw reflected there.

“Perhaps I was too—” she began.

He shook his head slightly. “No, Miss Densley. You are correct. Now that I have had the chance to view the situation from your perspective, I can see that my actions were indeed ungentlemanly and unkind. I appreciate your willingness to be honest with me. Too often, people tell me only what they wish me to hear, and that offers me little opportunity for improvement.” His frown was fleeting. “I shall endeavor to make today the first and last time I am accused of such undesirable traits.”

They were approaching the dining room doors, and their opportunity for private conversation was coming to an end.

“In that case,” Charlotte said, offering Lord Cheston a tentative smile, “perhaps we should begin again, as though we truly had never met.”

He recognized the olive branch for what it was. “I should like that very much.”

Her smile widened. “Would you tell me more about Tribbley Hall and this area of Norfolk?”

“Of course.” He guided her to her chair. “What would you like to know?”

“Well,” she said, “I have always been rather fond of animals. My grandmother gave me to understand that you have increased the number of sheep at Tribbley Hall, and it made me wonder if perhaps you have any trained sheepdogs.” She looked at him, wide-eyed. “Or maybe even some puppies that you plan to train in the future.”