A Summer to Remember by Mary Balogh Page A

and elegance. The paths were crowded with strollers, all of whom were behaving in a perfectly civilized manner.
    And yet she was aware of danger. Miss Merklinger and Lord Farrington, Miss Abbott and Mr. Weller, walked ahead of them, talking and laughing among themselves. Lord Ravensberg made no attempt to join in their conversation even though Lord Farrington was a personal friend of his. And every minute set the two of them at a slightly greater distance behind the other four.
    Every so often narrower paths wound away into the trees. They were darker, lonelier than the main thoroughfare.
    Lauren could almost read Lord Ravensberg’s mind. He intended that they take one of those side paths. Just the two of them. She shivered. She could increase her pace and close the distance with the others. She could herself join in their conversation. Or she could, when the time came, firmly refuse to leave the main path. He would hardly try forcing her to comply with his wishes, after all. The fact that she was even having this inner debate with herself bewildered her. Lauren Edgeworth had always known what was what, and it would certainly not be the thing to go off with a virtual stranger along a deserted path when he could have nothing but dalliance on his mind.
    But she was horrifyingly tempted. What was it like—dalliance? It must be different from simple flirtation, certainly. One could flirt in company with other people. One needed to be alone with another in order to dally. She had never wondered about it before. She had never been even faintly curious.
    But tonight she was.
    “The path grows crowded,” Viscount Ravensberg said, dipping his head closer to hers. “Perhaps you would like a quieter, more leisurely stroll along one of the side paths, Miss Edgeworth?” His eyes, dancing with merriment, mocked her. He knew, of course, that she
knew
. Did he know too that she was tempted?
    She felt as if she had come to some crossroads in her life. She could and should say no and there would be an end of the matter. Or she could say yes. She could simply say yes and risk . . . what? Detection? Exposure? Scandal? They would be unchaperoned. Did he intend to steal a kiss from her? It was a shocking thought. She had only ever been kissed by Neville. She was six and twenty and had only ever been kissed—chastely—by a former betrothed. Perhaps he intended more than kisses. Perhaps . . .
    “Thank you,” she heard herself say before she could talk herself into making an acceptance impossible. “That would be pleasant.”
    He turned without further ado onto a narrow path to their left. The other two couples strolled onward, unaware that they had been abandoned.
    The path was narrow—only just wide enough for two people to walk side by side if they were close together. Lord Ravensberg pressed her arm firmly against his side so that she had no choice but to rest her shoulder just below the level of his. It was the
path
that gave her no choice—the path and the tall, silent trees that grew to its very edge and met overhead, almost totally blocking out the moonlight. The only light came from the occasional lamp in a tree.
    She ought not to have agreed to this, Lauren thought. There was a feeling of even greater aloneness and intimacy than she had expected. The sounds of voices and music seemed to grow instantly fainter. There was no one else on this particular path.
    Why
had
she agreed? Curiosity? A desire to be kissed?
    She wished he would say something. She thought of all sorts of things
she
might say—she was adept at making polite social conversation, after all, but any topic that came to mind would have sounded ridiculous under the present circumstances.
    “I want to kiss you,” he said in a voice that was so calmly conversational that for a moment his meaning did not quite penetrate her mind. It was her
heart
that comprehended first as it thumped uncomfortably against her rib cage, half robbing her of breath.
    What would it be