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Ravenswood’s fingers had touched hers, and the warm feeling that touch had evoked.
    And he would be calling on her. Daphne wished the time would hurry past until she saw him again.
    * * * *
    She did not have long to wait.
    Daphne and Miss Shelby spent the rest of the day getting to know one another better, while they settled Miss Shelby into a sunny room down the hall from Daphne’s bedchamber.
    Daphne knew her decision to bring Miss Shelby home as her companion had been impulsive but, in her opinion, justified. A more amiable female she had yet to find since Mama’s death. And Miss Shelby’s loving nature acted like a balm on Daphne’s self-esteem, which had been wounded over the past three years by Miss Oakswine’s constant criticism.
    If Miss Shelby had some odd views on past lives and what she called the Spirit World, well, Daphne was willing to tolerate it. After all, some people would call her own desire to help stray animals peculiar.
    In Miss Shelby’s opinion, Daphne was nothing short of an angel of mercy. The girl had earned her unerring loyalty, Miss Shelby going so far as to say dramatically, “I would lay down my life for you, my dear, and be glad of it.”
    The next afternoon the ladies were seated comfortably in front of a fire in the drawing room when Daphne’s butler, Cramble, announced the Earl of Ravenswood.
    Daphne put away the piece of stitchery she had been toiling over. Miss Shelby, who judged all needlework except dressmaking a waste of time, placed the book she had been reading, The Planets and You , on a small satinwood table next to where she was seated on the sofa. She turned about and gazed eagerly toward the door.
    The tall, elegant figure of the earl entered the room, and Daphne could only admire his masculine appearance. His indigo blue coat sat on his shoulders without a wrinkle. Buff-colored pantaloons molded his legs and disappeared into Hessian boots that were shined to look like black glass. His cravat rose in stiff folds above his white waistcoat.
    He handed his hat—a new one, no doubt—and stick to Cramble, but as the elderly butler had been nearly blind when Daphne hired him, he saw only the hat, which he accepted. To Lord Ravenswood’s credit, he said nothing, retaining the stick and merely advancing with Eugene behind him.
    Unfortunately, as Cramble was exiting the room, he jostled the wicker basket that Eugene carried, resulting in the company being treated to an angry, high-pitched “Grraow!”
    “My deepest apologies, my lord, did I step on your toe?” the butler asked his lordship.
    Daphne’s hand flew to her mouth to stop a giggle from escaping. Miss Shelby and Eugene shared a smile.
    “‘Twas nothing,” Lord Ravenswood said, dismissing the servant’s concern. He bowed low to the ladies.
    “Cramble, please have one of the maids bring fresh tea,” Daphne said to the servant. Then she turned to the earl. “Do be seated, my lord.”
    Anthony studied the inviting room. It was done in rich, dark green with cream-colored wallpaper. Pretty pieces of furniture were placed more for comfort than style, and the room was strewn with books, magazines, and bowls of flowers.
    Making sure to wait until the butler had closed the double doors, Anthony sat on a green satin chair next to a matching one where Miss Kendall was seated, and motioned for Eugene to open the lid of the basket. “Here is your cat, Miss Kendall.”
    Mihos slowly raised his striped head from the basket and gazed at his surroundings. Upon seeing the earl, he promptly jumped out of the wicker container to the floor, and then, with a great leap, flew into Lord Ravenswood’s lap.
    Anthony was seized with a desire to order the cat back into the basket until he heard Miss Kendall’s musical laugh ring out.
    “Did you see that? He flew across to you! Oh, my lord, I would not say he was my cat. Indeed, he seems much attached to you.”
    “Grraow,” agreed Mihos. He raised a paw to the earl’s