Текст книги "Accidentally, Love"

Автор книги: Kate Harper

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Oddly enough, her rejection of the most eligible man in London had not seemed to hurt her prospects in the least. There were, it seemed, quite a few other gentlemen who were eager to court the debutante who had done the unthinkable. One of her friends, Margaret Felton, had told her that she had increased her cachet a good deal by rejecting Allingham.

‘You are considered quite a challenge, you know,’ she had observed when they had been strolling together in Hyde Park one afternoon in September. ‘Refusing Allingham was quite incomprehensible. Now many of the gentlemen are on their mettle, wondering what it would take to secure the affections of Miss Audrey Hathaway.’

Audrey had been horrified. ‘You are joking, surely!’

‘Not at all,’ Miss Felton had given her a sideways look. ‘If I may ask, why did you refuse him? I confess, we have all been dying to know your reasons.’

‘We?’ Audrey had asked with some trepidation. She had been feeling distinctly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken.

‘All of the girls, of course. I hear the poor fellow was quite crushed. Unfortunately, he has taken himself off so it seems likely that he won’t have recovered from the experience until next year, which is a pity as one of us could have benefited if he had impetuously decided to take another bride in your stead. They do that sometimes, do they not? Look at Lord Denton, marrying Clarissa March after Nesta Beckworth refused him. Clarissa was delighted by the entire affair for she had thought her chances to be hopeless. Which they might have been, had he not sought consolation in her arms. But seriously… what did Allingham do wrong? I thought that you were quite happy to have him court you.’

‘I… changed my mind. Lord Allingham is a wonderful man but I did not think we would be suited.’

Miss Felton had looked at her incredulously. ‘Not suited? But surely you could have made such a match suit. I mean, he is Allingham. So good looking and all that money.’

And that, really, had been the opinion of most of London. Miss Audrey Hathaway was fussy indeed if a catch like Allingham had not pleased her. Everybody considered her decision to be extremely perverse and she had a feeling that she might be gaining a reputation for eccentricity, which might be acceptable in an older female but was quite unappealing in a female of marriageable age, unless they were very rich or very well connected.

It had been a relief when the Season had drawn to a close. Morning calls were still paid and there were the occasional soirees to attend, but life settled back into a more relaxed rhythm and Audrey found herself relaxing a little as well. She had not realized how tense she was until the pressure of socializing almost every night had been lifted off her. She was looking forward to retreating to Little Paddocks far more fervently than usual because in Somerset she could at least pretend that her world was much as it ever was. It still seemed rather unreal to her that meeting Kirkwood could have overset her emotions so completely. The situation had been made all the worse because she had elected not to share her experience, not even with Isabella who was usually privy to all of her confidences. How could she confess to such a scandalous embrace? It was not that she did not trust her sister not to judge her, it was just… well, it did not do to dwell upon things and she already had a ridiculous tendency to think of Mr. Kirkwood far more than she ought. It was turning out that he was a very hard man to forget, which was disheartening as all she wanted was to pretend he never existed. It was not so simple. That one kiss had left her feeling… branded. She could not explain the sensation exactly, but it seemed now that Kirkwood had kissed her he had somehow left his mark on her, invisible but indelibly there.

Which was ridiculous, of course. Mr. Kirkwood was the last man in England she wished to form a tendre for. He could not give her the love she was looking for, only a heady experience in passion that she suspected he had bestowed all too freely in the past. She wanted what her brother and sister had; passion, devotion and respect. Such things would not be found in any spurious relationship with a man like Kirkwood.

After the disconcerting events of that particular week, Audrey had deliberately tried to banish all thought of Kirkwood and Allingham. She knew she could spend hours – no weeks! – dwelling on all the things she should have done to repel Mr. Kirkwood, but what was the point? It was done with now and she knew she would do well to focus all of her attention on putting it all behind her. She knew she was very lucky that her reputation was still intact and not just because she had not been discovered with Kirkwood. Refusing a perfectly decent earl was hardly likely to endear her to the ton and there had been a good chance that she might develop a reputation of being flighty.

So she had resolved to put all thoughts of Kirkwood out of her mind entirely. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she had encountered him unexpectedly three weeks later she might have succeeded a little better.

But she had encountered him again and she had behaved… well, she did not like to dwell on it for it was far too shaming. But she had certainly not acted as her mother would have expected a well brought up young lady to act. In fact, the whole thing was so mortifying that she herself was convinced she was not the kind of girl she’d thought she was. Somehow, Kirkwood had turned her into a completely different person than the one that stared at her from the mirror every morning, the girl that she’d thought she knew inside and out. Instead, she had transformed into somebody who behaved in a rash and foolish manner. Their second encounter had been just as disturbing as the first had been, more so because it had shattered whatever comfortable reassurances she had managed to fabricate over the preceding weeks.

‘Enough is enough,’ she had decided, after another night of troubled sleep had plagued her. ‘I will not think of this any more. I must not. I have made a foolish error of judgment – twice – but I shall make very certain that I do not make another. I just have to make sure that I do not see Kirkwood ever again and trust the whole thing fades away.’

For it must. Her future happiness depended on forgetting how it felt to be, all too briefly, held in one particular man’s arms.

After that last encounter, Audrey had taken great pains never to be alone anywhere she went, remaining resolutely at Mama’s or Isabella’s side as if attached by an invisible string. She might not be able to stop herself from searching the crowds for a tall, dark figure but if she caught herself doing so she ruthlessly turned her attention to something else.

She would get over this madness, she vowed.

But she would definitely recover all the more quickly if she did not have to see Kirkwood again.

Chapter Four

The afternoon continued to produce endless flurries of snow, much to Isabella’s annoyance. She took to pacing around the parlor until Harry made her sit beside him, slipping an arm around her. He settled her rather like one would settle a restive horse, Audrey noted ruefully, talking to her quietly and stroking her hair. After a time, Isabella closed her eyes and even seemed to doze. Millie continued to play cards, wheedling her mother and Audrey into a few hands until she had defeated them soundly as well. Then she retreated onto the window seat with a book – a quite inappropriate novel by Mrs. Radcliffe – and was heard of no more for some time. As evening approached, the snow stopped and the wind died, leaving what seemed like an unnatural hush over the small inn and amplifying the snap and crackle of the burning wood in the fireplace.

‘It’s stopped,’ Isabella murmured drowsily from against her husband’s shoulder.

‘The roads still won’t be passable, however,’ Harry observed. ‘If it remains clear tomorrow morning I will go out and investigate how bad it is. Perhaps we shall be able to get moving again in the afternoon. At the very least I might be able to take one of the horses and go home.’

‘And leave us here?’ Isabella demanded, waking up abruptly.

‘Only until I can return with a more suitable vehicle. Perhaps there is something in the stables that will move over the snow more easily than our town coach.’

‘That seems like a very sound plan,’ Eliza Hathaway said, raising her embroidery to peer at a thread and then snipping it off. A third candle had been supplied when the others had been replaced; Fumble positioning it carefully behind Lady Hathaway’s head to better illuminate matters. She had appreciated his kindness for, even with a set of eyeglasses perched on the end of her nose; the fine stitches were proving to be a challenge in the gloom. ‘If we are to depend on the town carriage we might still be here for several days, but if Harry can bring the phaeton back we might just manage it. And at the very least, he can establish just how far we are from home. I know we have travelled this road innumerable times but I simply cannot recall The Drunken Maiden.’

‘That’s because we’ve never thought to stop here. Why would we when we’re so close to home?’ Harry observed.

‘If it is not very far to Little Paddocks, perhaps I could ride there with Harry and get some people to come back for you,’ Millie suggested eagerly. She was not used to such close confinement and the lack of space in the inn meant that there was little to absorb her energy.

‘We shall see,’ her mother said noncommittally. ‘It all depends on the weather.’

‘We don’t want to lose you and a perfectly good horse in a snow drift,’ Audrey pointed out with mock gravity. ‘You’re not very big. It would be hard to find you.’

‘As if I’d ride into a ditch,’ the youngest Miss Hathaway said scornfully. ‘Although if I were allowed to wear trousers more often it would be a great deal easier.’

This was a common refrain as Millie had taken to wearing trousers in the privacy of the Carstairs’ estate if she was off exploring the woods and gardens and, after a time, her nearest and dearest had more or less grown accustomed to it. The only stipulation her mother had placed on this bizarre behavior was that Millie must either wear a gown if they were likely to have callers, or disappear so that she was not seen. Millie had readily accepted these terms although she had opted, more often than not, for the invisible option, as she did not care to make polite conversation with callers.

Her mother and sister were saved the necessity of replying to this by the sound of somebody pounding on a door. It was not on the door of the parlor but on the front door of the inn itself. They all paused, taken aback by the sound.

‘Somebody else, caught by the weather?’ Isabella said quizzically.

‘I hope it is not a crowd,’ Millie grimaced. ‘This is not a very big parlor, is it?’

‘If it’s one of the locals they will undoubtedly want to use the public taproom instead of sharing the fire with us,’ Harry said reassuringly.

‘Then let us hope it is one of the local people,’ his wife said ruefully, ‘for we are taking up all of the chairs but two.’

They could hear the heavy footsteps of Mr. Fumble hurrying to open the front door and the creak of badly oiled hinges, then the murmur of voices. All of the room’s occupants strained to hear what was being said. A woman’s voice and the low rumble of a man’s, along with the reassuring baritone of Mr. Fumble himself. Not a lot could be heard apart from the occasional word like, ‘storm’ and ‘fierce bad weather’, along with ‘other guests’. Isabella and Audrey exchanged glances.

‘It might even be one of our neighbors from Little Paddocks,’ Isabella suggested. ‘Caught out by the weather like ourselves.’

‘Well it won’t be so awkward if we know them, I daresay,’ Audrey returned, although that rather depended on the neighbor. Some of them could be dreadfully tedious. Bad enough to be trapped in one place by a snowstorm but even worse, surely, to have to share a small space with people one did not want to engage with.

They did not have long to wonder for footsteps sounded on the boards in the passageway. Mr. Fumble threw open the door and beamed at them.

‘Well now,’ he boomed cheerfully. ‘More guests, caught up by this nasty weather. Getting to be quite a crowd, it is.’

A woman’s voice spoke behind him, tone sharp. ‘Do get out of the way! We are freezing and require a fire, if you please.’

Audrey frowned. Surely she recognized that voice? Those arctic tones sounded horribly familiar… Looking towards the door, she felt her heart sink when a tall, imperious figure swept into the room, followed by what appeared to be a small crowd. Warmth flooded Audrey’s cheeks at the sight of Lady Judith Allingham, who stopped abruptly when she saw the occupants of the parlor. Reluctantly, Audrey’s eyes travelled beyond her to focus on the tall, familiar figure that followed in her ladyship’s wake. The Earl of Allingham looked at her, his expression shifting to a mixture of bewilderment and dismay as recognition set in. Beside him, a young lady was pushing back the hood of her cloak to reveal a pretty round countenance and behind them, two women stood uncertainly, their serviceable cloaks indicating their positions; servants of the new arrivals, probably a pair of maids. The sudden influx of people made the walls of the small parlor shrink even more.

Perfect, Audrey thought with an inward groan. Just… perfect!

It seemed that she would not be allowed to lay aside her unfortunate memories just yet. Not when Lord Allingham, her rejected suitor, had come to join the party.

Naturally, it was Lady Hathaway who recovered from her surprise first. She tucked her embroidery back into its bag and rose to her feet with a smile of greeting. ‘Ah, Lady Allingham, what an unexpected pleasure even if it is under such unfortunate circumstances. I see that you have been caught out by the storm, just as we have. Won’t you come in and take this chair? You look dreadfully chilled.’

Audrey watched a number of expressions flitter across Judith Allingham’s face. It must be perfectly obvious to everybody that she was both taken aback and displeased to discover the small family party already ensconced in the parlor, especially this particular family, but there was not a great deal she could do about it. And no matter how proud or difficult one might be, it would have surely been impossible to respond ungraciously to such a gracious offer. Bless Mama, Audrey thought with a sudden rush of fondness. I swear, she could charm the bad humor out of even crusty old Lord Sedgwick, who has grown quite famous for giving setdowns to everybody he encounters. Lady Allingham hesitated for a moment longer, then inclined her head, moving forward to sink into the newly vacated chair.

‘Lady Hathaway,’ she observed with grudging gratitude. ‘How kind of you. And how unexpected, finding you in such a place.’

‘We live close by,’ Isabella explained. Audrey had already felt her sister’s quick, measuring glance upon her. No doubt she was wondering how Audrey would fare during this unexpected meeting with her rejected swain. Typically, Isabella’s crochets disappeared as she slipped smoothly into her charming social persona. Not for the world would she allow her family to go unsupported against the likes of Judith Allingham. ‘Little Paddocks is no more than six or seven miles away, but we became stranded here last night.’ Her eyes went to Allingham, who was hovering just inside the door, apparently unsure if he should enter the room completely. The girl beside him clung to his arm, as if she had just discovered herself in a den of iniquity and was in danger of keeling over from the shock. Or she could just be frightfully cold, Audrey reflected wryly, looking at her tired, rather pinched face. Isabella was clearly determined to turn the entire encounter into a normal, social occasion for she rose and held out a hand. ‘Hello, Lord Allingham. How delightful to see you again. And… Lady Fielding, is it not?’

Lady Fielding nodded and blushed prettily and Audrey finally remembered who she was; Elizabeth Fielding, the sole daughter of a duke and one of the Season’s most sought after debutantes – at least for the brief time she had participated in it – thanks to the sum that her father would be settling on her upon her marriage. Lady Fielding had not had a great deal of opportunity to partake in the entertainments on offer, having contracted pneumonia at the beginning of May thereby retiring to the more wholesome air of the countryside to recover. Her presence beside Allingham could only mean that she was either a very close friend of the family, or that Allingham had recovered from Audrey’s rejection of him well enough to offer for somebody else. Audrey sincerely hoped it was the latter. This meeting must be uncomfortable enough without worrying if he was still mourning his thwarted plans. She rose from her own chair, determined to follow Isabella’s lead and treat this encounter as if it were the most natural thing in the world. ‘Lady Fielding. Won’t you sit by the fire?  My mother is quite right, it is a good deal warmer here and I am sure you must be chilled.’

‘Thank you,’ the girl murmured with a shy smile, moving forward to take the proffered seat. She appeared to relax, just a little, probably reassured by this normal exchange of pleasantries. Hostelries such as The Drunken Maiden were hardly the kind of places the daughter of a duke would be likely to find themselves. She probably thought she would be spending the night in a rowdy taproom, populated by rogues and scoundrels. The two maids continued to hover by the door until Lady Allingham irritably waved a hand at them.

‘For heaven’s sake, Bartlett, go and see to my things at once.’ Both maids scurried off immediately.

After Lady Fielding had been settled, Audrey turned back to Allingham and gave him a determined smile. It had been four months since she had seen him, surely time enough for old wounds to have healed? It wasn’t as if he had been passionately in love with her, after all. They had only known each other for a matter of weeks before he had made an offer. Indeed, he probably would not have been so forward if she had not determined to kiss him that night. The memory of why she had chosen to kiss him made her wince inwardly, a reflex action by now, and she pushed all of the associated feelings of those disastrous few days aside. That was then, this was now and she had done nothing wrong, after all. Rejecting a suitor was as much a part of the Season as were the entertainments on offer.

‘And how are you, Sir?’ she inquired politely.

‘Very well, thank you. And you?’ It was difficult to determine anything from the shuttered look on his face. His expression had always been so open that this new restraint was unnerving.

‘Oh, I am quite well, as you can see. You have come from London? I am surprised you made it this far.’ She wondered what it was that brought them to this part of Somerset. The Allingham estate was not in this county.

‘Not from London, but from Hampshire. We should probably have stopped some way back but Mother believed the roads would improve.’ If the tone of his voice was anything to go by, he and his mother had shared words on the subject for there was still an undercurrent of considerable irritation. ‘It is very good to see you all again. You are each of you looking in excellent health.’

‘The snow had stopped,’ his mother said sharply. ‘How was I to know that the conditions would worsen as we continued on?’

‘Because I told you so?’ Allingham said dryly.

Judith Allingham’s blue eyes snapped. ‘We were already late. Lady Forbes is expecting us.’

‘You are staying with Lady Forbes?’ Lady Hathaway inquired quickly.

‘Lady Fielding’s aunt,’ Lady Allingham answered, glancing at the girl. Her expression softened a little. Clearly she thoroughly approved of Lady Fielding. ‘I did not want Lady Forbes to worry about her niece.’

‘But of course,’ Eliza Hathaway nodded, having mentally followed the family connections in her head in a manner that her children always thought quite extraordinary. Mama always seemed to know everybody’s relationship to everybody else with astounding accuracy. ‘Casterton Lodge is not very far from Little Paddocks. I know your aunt quite well, my dear,’ she added to Lady Fielding. ‘A charming woman.’

From her window seat, Millie gave a small snort. She did not find the highly critical Lady Forbes in the least bit charming. The woman had expressed her views on the youngest Miss Hathaway’s demeanor on more than one occasion.

‘Indeed she is,’ Lady Allingham agreed, shooting a searching glance towards Millie. ‘I had not realized Mr. Carstairs’ estate to be in the area.’

Audrey was certain that Lady Allingham knew exactly where Harry’s house was. In fact, she was quite sure Judith Allingham knew everything there was to know about Audrey Hathaway and her family. When word had circulated that her son was interested in a Hathaway she would have made it her business to investigate Audrey’s antecedents fully. It there had been one aspect of refusing Roderick Allingham that had been a relief, it was that she would not have Judith Allingham as her mother-in-law.

‘Allingham is to wed Lady Fielding in the spring,’ the woman observed, a note of considerable satisfaction in her voice. ‘It is an excellent match.’

‘Thank you for pointing that out, Mother,’ Allingham muttered.

‘Congratulations,’ Isabella said warmly. ‘I am sure we all wish you both a great deal of happiness, Lady Fielding. Spring weddings are always so delightful.’

‘Thank you,’ the girl murmured softly. It was difficult to access her personality accurately, but she seemed rather shy for all that she was the daughter of a duke. Audrey didn’t envy her a life under the thumb of a domineering woman like Lady Allingham. There were some women who were gracious about stepping aside when their son’s new wives took the reins. Audrey doubted that Judith would be prepared to do anything of the kind.

I do hope he loves her. She is obviously very sweet natured but she will be trampled underfoot if Allingham doesn’t stand up for her.

Not that it had anything to do with her, of course. But she wished for Allingham to be happy, perhaps all the more fervently as she had rejected him.

With deliberation, Audrey fetched a stool and settled herself by the girl, determined to make her feel a little more comfortable. Harry rose and strolled over to hold out a hand to Lord Allingham. They shook, nodding that comfortable acknowledgement that was so peculiarly masculine.

‘Hellish weather, isn’t it? How did you go with the roads?’

It was an excellent tactic and, before long, the two men were chatting in the friendliest manner imaginable. It eased the tension of all but Lady Allingham who seemed uncertain of what tactic to take with this particular family. Audrey chatted determinedly to Beth Fielding, she had been christened Elizabeth but she explained to Audrey that nobody ever called her Elizabeth, it had always been Beth. As sweet as she was, the softer sobriquet suited her very well and Audrey found that she liked the girl a great deal. After a time, Mrs. Fumble brought in a large tea tray, followed by her husband carrying a second one to accommodate the expanded number of guests. Audrey reflected that it must be difficult, having to feed so many unexpected mouths but if the food provided was any indication, Mrs. Fumble was managing magnificently. Not that Judith Allingham looked particularly pleased. She cast a disparaging glance over the sandwiches and cake provided and wrinkled her patrician nose in fastidious displeasure.

‘Have you no cucumber, my good woman?’ she demanded of Mrs. Fumble, who looked flustered.

‘Why no, m’lady. T’isn’t the season for cucumbers. But that there is ginger cake, fresh made and I got you some nice ham on them sandwiches.’

Lady Allingham opened her mouth, probably preparing to dismiss these offerings but Millie got in first. She had laid her book aside when tea arrived and had come across to the table to peruse the afternoon’s offering.

‘Oh well done Mrs. F!’ she said, eying the food with pleasure. ‘More ginger cake. I do wish our cook was as clever as you.’

Mrs. Fumble visibly relaxed and smiled at Millie. ‘Oh you! Always talkin’ a person up, you are. You’ll be giving me ideas before too long.’

‘But she’s right, Mrs. Fumble,’ Harry assured the woman, accepting a slice of the ginger cake from his mother-in-law. ‘It’s a wonder you can manage such a feast with all of us here. We’re all very grateful.’ These last few words were said with a certain amount of emphasis. Lady Allingham did not look at all grateful but to everybody’s relief, she said no more.

It was a difficult afternoon, the early atmosphere of slumberous leisure having quite disappeared with the new arrivals. Lady Allingham complained a great deal and Millie, who had taken it in her head to disagree with almost everything the woman said, did not help the situation. If she found somebody particularly objectionable she would take it upon herself to be as contrary as possible and Lady Allingham’s voice grew progressively shriller the more Millie aggravated her. Audrey could hardly blame her sister for her dislike but she did wish she would be a little less controversial. Unfortunately, even Mama could not entirely quell her youngest child when she was in such a mood and Judith Allingham’s outlook became more baleful as the afternoon wore on. By four o’clock, Beth had excused herself to lay down in her bedchamber for a time and Lady Allingham followed shortly after, giving them a much needed respite.

‘Really, Millie,’ Audrey muttered, when the trailing hem of Lady Allingham’s silk skirts had swished irritably through the door, ‘you are being impossible!’

Millie arched an eyebrow. ‘She is really quite horrid. You know you think so too.’

‘I might think so but I wouldn’t dream of showing it,’ Audrey retorted.

Millie shrugged. ‘I am just a child,’ she said cheerfully. ‘One cannot expect a great deal from a child with dreadful manners.’

‘You are no longer a child but a young woman,’ her sister observed wryly. ‘One can only play that hand for so long, my love.’

Millie grinned. ‘I had better make the most of it then, hadn’t I?’

Lord Allingham remained in the parlor and it seemed that he relaxed a little when his mother removed herself and joined in the conversation a deal more readily. It relieved Audrey’s mind considerably to discover that, as the day wore on, he could actually engage her in conversation without any undue awkwardness tingeing their every word. Clearly his initial reaction had been brought on by the shock of seeing her again so unexpectedly.

It was approaching five in the afternoon when another knock came on the front door, causing the conversation in the parlor to pause.

‘Another visitor?’ Isabella observed wryly. ‘I believe we really will need a bigger parlor!’

‘Perhaps it is a local person,’ Harry suggested again. ‘Let’s hope so. They might be able to tell us the state of the roads by now if they’ve made it through.’

‘Ah, but from which direction?’ Lord Allingham said.

‘By now, I can’t say I care one way or the other,’ Harry confessed. ‘Any information would be welcome.’

Conversation stilled into silence as they all listened intently. Once again, there came the heavy tread of Mr. Fumble as he made his way down the passageway, heading for the front door. The creak of door hinges and another murmur of conversation, Fumble’s rumbling baritone and another, even deeper voice.

Isabella leaned close to her sister, murmuring in her ear, ‘At least we need not fear who this might be. The worst has happened, after all has it not? And really, it was not so bad. Was it?’

Audrey smiled, whispering back, ‘Not at all. But Lady Allingham really is entirely awful, is she not?’

‘Utterly dreadful!’

The front door closed heavily and two sets of footsteps approached. A lone traveller then, Audrey thought, looking towards the door expectantly. Unless it was a local, as Mama had suggested. Then surely they would head towards the taproom? But no, the parlor door opened and there was the landlord once again, smiling broadly.

‘Well now,’ he said, rubbing his hands together. ‘Reckon it’s a bad day on the road all around. And here I was, thinking that we’d have a quiet few days till the snow cleared. Seems this poor gentleman has also gone and found himself in trouble as well. None of you good people mind if he takes a mite of your fire to warm himself, now do you? Tis perishing cold out there!’

They all looked with interest at the figure that was no more than a dark shape behind the landlord’s shoulder, the lighting in the hallway being no better than anywhere else in the inn and without the benefit of candlelight. They could see that the gentleman was tall but that was the extent of it until Mr. Fumble stepped back to allow the man access and they had a clear view of the new arrival.

For a long, incredulous moment Audrey thought she might be hallucinating, that her thoughts of him, never far away, had made this moment come about. But then his dark eyes met hers and the blood seemed to turn to ice in her veins.

Kirkwood…

She vaguely heard Allingham’s exclamation of shocked surprise. There seemed to be several voices that were speaking at once but Audrey could not hear them properly thanks to the strange buzzing sound in her ears. Her eyes were fixed on Kirkwood, who seemed to somehow make the room shrink into a much smaller space. In fact, his tall figure seemed to dominate her vision. Audrey stared at him, the sum of all of her mad reflections for the past four months making her wonder if this was some crazed trick her mind was playing on her, or if her eyes were truly telling her the truth; that Kirkwood was standing in the doorway, dark eyes boring into her.