The prettiest of blushes bloomed on her face. How could she possibly get any more attractive?

“That’s very kind of you. But I’m hardly a strong swimmer. I couldn’t come to your rescue you if you were to call for help.”

He returned her smile. “An excellent point, because I would, without doubt, be calling out to you.”

He picked up her bonnet, and their fingers brushed as he handed it to her. They both drew back at once. If a mere touch sparked the air around them, Bamberg wondered what would happen if they were to kiss.

“What was their ploy in sending you here?” she asked.

“Lady Millie’s family is arriving at any moment. The good doctor told me there are no available guest rooms at the Abbey. And you?”

She started to say something but then shook her head. “I think my friend’s intention was for me to speak with you alone, without the presence of family.”

“I’ve been hoping for the same thing.” He offered his arm. “Would you care to walk with me?”

“Where to?”

“We could see what the island has of interest to offer.”

She looked around her. From where they stood at the crest of the hill, they could see the entire shoreline. Nevertheless, she took his arm, and they started down the slope.

Bamberg felt the pressure of their limited time together, and he had so much he wanted to say. Dermot had hinted that they might have this moment when the men met in his office. He knew that somehow, somewhere, his friend and his wife would arrange for the two of them to meet. And Dermot had made good on it. But now that Taylor was here, Bamberg was already lamenting the moment when she’d be gone.

“Your Grace—” she began before he interrupted.

“Please. My friends call me Bamberg.”

“Very well.” She nodded. “I owe you an apology for the way I’ve behaved toward you.”

“I find no fault in anything you’ve done.”

The hill was steep, and as they descended, she had no objection to an occasional touch along her waist to steady her step.

“I’ve been avoiding you.”

He smiled. “I thought you were avoiding your father. Or was it your brother? I certainly didn’t think I was the cause.”

He hadn’t realized before that the sparkling blue irises of her eyes were encircled by a thin silvery band.

“Now, I’m feeling especially guilty. I left you time and time again in their company.”

“You should feel guilty about that.” He adjusted his hold on her, taking Taylor’s hand to assist her down a particularly slippery patch. At the bottom, he didn’t let go, telling himself it was because of the uneven ground. “I don’t care to talk about them. I endured them for you. Because frankly, from the moment I saw you pushing that carriage, I’ve been fascinated.”

Her brows pulled together, and her eyes narrowed, conveying her skepticism. Discreetly, she withdrew her hand. “You have considerable charm, Your Grace, but you’re wasting it on me.”

“I’m being honest, my lady.” He motioned to the waters of the loch. “I don’t know how much time we have here, and I’d like to speak plainly, if I may.”

“These past months notwithstanding, I prefer straight talk as well.”

“Thank you.” He faltered for a moment, wondering if the things he wanted to say would only serve to frighten her off. Casting doubt to the wind, he decided to dive in. “Aside from your obvious beauty, I already know that you’re highly intelligent and have a mind of your own. You are clearly a woman of courage. You have compassion for others, and you act on it. I don’t want to offend you in referring to your family, but you are, in fact, nothing like your male relations. If I may ask, were you a foundling?”

Her surprised laughter filled the air, and the sound of it was music to his ear.

“But seriously. Your mother. Was she, like you, one of the seraphim?”

The smile stayed on her lips. They reached a pile of large stones, and he took her hand again to help her over them. She needed no assistance, but she allowed him to keep his hold as they continued on.

“You are trying to charm me, and I need you to stop.”

“Charm you? I just called you an orphan,” he argued. “But I did take it back by recognizing the gratitude I owe to the parent who no longer graces us with her presence.”

Bamberg wished he could retract the last words, as a shadow of sadness flitted across her face. It was too flippant a reference.

“Did my father mention her to you?” she asked.

“He did. He showed me her portrait when I visited your town house in Edinburgh. She had the same rare beauty that you possess. And Lord Lindsay told me you have inherited many of her qualities.” Bamberg didn’t care for the way Lindsay spoke disparagingly about his marriage, which had been the result of a financial arrangement, even as he acknowledged his wife’s value to him. “He clearly misses her.”

“I’m too much of a reminder of her.” Taylor stopped and studied the shoreline across the water for a moment. “Enough about me. Let’s talk about you.”

He bowed. “As you wish.”

“I have so many questions that I don’t know where to start.”

Bamberg felt a sense of relief wash through him. She was interested. Perhaps she would stop running once she found out more about him. He sensed she didn’t really believe his compliments, but there was time for him to convince her.

“Ask anything.” He looked directly into her blue eyes. “I shall be nothing but an open book for you.”

DERMOT SEARCHED the Abbey high and low for his wife. From the housekeeper he learned that Millie was revisiting the arrangements for her family, going room to room, even though she’d done the same thing last night and again this morning. He finally caught up to her, accompanied by a serving woman in the last apartment in the East Wing.

“How long do you think we should give them before I send a boat back to the island?” he asked, after dismissing the servant.

She stopped by the window, and the light coming through cast a glow around her beautiful face and round belly. “Before dinner, perhaps? Do you think that’s enough time?”

Gazing at her, Dermot forgot why he’d come here. If anyone asked him just then, he’d have a difficult time coming up with the names of the two friends they’d stranded in the loch. All he could think of was that he was the luckiest man alive.

Millie was his life, his love, and the bravest woman who ever lived. Holding her hand during her surgery a year ago, he’d prayed that she would never experience a moment’s pain again. But here she was, ready to give birth any day now.

“Come here.” She opened her arms. “I believe you’re more nervous than I am.”

Of course, he was nervous. Dermot was a doctor. He’d trained as a surgeon. He knew too much. He knew everything that could go wrong.

He gathered Millie in his arms. He kissed her brow, her lips. “I wish I could take on the pain of this childbirth for you.”

She clutched his coat and leaned against him. “I might wish for that too, if the pain gets any stronger than this.”

“Millie?”

“Yes, my love. It’s happening. Right now.”

BAMBERG’S EYES flashed with excitement as he spoke of his expeditions. His voice grew thick with emotion as he related stories about the kindness of those he’d met in the farthest corners of the world. They continued to walk, and Taylor was swept into his world.

“Knowledge of other people is the only way to end the arrogant prejudices and the narrow-mindedness we seem to pride ourselves on here in Europe. Travel is the answer. We cannot achieve any understanding by stagnating in one place.”

Taylor had been entranced by this man the first time they met. And she’d been running away since because of her own insecurity. But now, she silently sent a prayer of gratitude heavenward for her meddling friend Millie and her wisdom in making her meet Bamberg again.

She’d been whiling away her time in large, secure houses for much of her life. Thanks to her mother, Taylor had acquired an education that surpassed that of most British ladies. But still, that wasn’t enough. What she knew was nothing in comparison with what this man had seen of the world. Her heart swelled hearing him talk, learning what it was he believed.

Taylor lost track of how long they’d been walking. The more time they spent with each other, the more at ease they became. Her arm remained linked with his. Their shoulders touched, their steps had found a comfortable rhythm. The initial awkwardness she felt had disappeared. Every now and again, he took her hand to assist her over an uneven patch.

She guessed if the groom returned with a boat right now, she’d tell him to wait. She had so many more questions to ask.

“You said that you often travel in small groups, but do women ever join you?”

The grey-green eyes focused on her face. “Some of the places are quite remote and difficult to reach, but wives or daughters often travel on these expeditions.”

“What is your view of them coming along?” she asked. “Do they slow you down? Do you consider them a nuisance?”

“Hardly,” he replied with no hesitation. “I admire them. I’ve seen only fortitude and courage in women who take up the challenge of exploring places previously unknown to us. To be honest, I’ve found myself quite envious of the men they accompany.”

“Envious? Why?”

“Because I would suppose only a woman truly in love would part with the comforts of her life here and go on a journey that is inherently fraught with danger.”

Taylor respected and admired his sentiment, but she doubted that was the only thing that would motivate a person to go. She stopped and turned to face him. “But what if a woman simply seeks adventure? What if she craves the knowledge of the world that, as you say, only travel can provide? Don’t you think her thirst can be the same as a man’s?”

A droplet of rain fell on her face, and she held a hand open to catch the next. She glanced up and was surprised by the ominously dark clouds that had closed off the sky above them.

“I have no doubt of it. Still, here in Europe, women are considered the gentler sex and—”

“And they are admired by men for their softness, their vulnerability, their gentle manner.”