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But Lord Weybourn was different Very ave a little shiver as she recalled how easily he had lifted and carried her And he had a touch of soerously other-worldly about him His hair was dark blond, his nose was thin, his cheekbones pronounced His eyes, under winging dark broere, she guessed, hazel and his chin was firm

It was hison that feature It was h his thoughts were pleasant, but erous In fact, she decided, he looked like a particularly well-dressed supernatural creature, if such things ever reached a good six feet in height with shoulders in proportion—one who ruled over forests where the shadoere dark and wolves lurked

He glanced across at her again and stood up, which snapped her out ofto do with Sister Moira’s frisson-inducing tales of Gothic terror, told at recreation ti Only Sister Moira’s fantasy beings never provoked feelings of

‘Is Rivers hurting you?’ Lord Weybourn came over and hitched himself onto the table opposite His boots were beautiful, she thought, watching one swinging idly to and fro It was safer than ed to break your ankle, have I?’

‘No, you haven’t, fortunately’ Mr Rivers came back and hunkered down by her feet ‘This will be cold,’ he warned as he draped a dripping cloth over her ankle ‘I’ll bandage it up after you’ve had your tea and a rest’

‘This seems a very pleasant inn,’ she said for want of a neutral topic Conversation with men was a novelty ‘Do you use this place frequently?’

‘Fro way back,’ Lord Weybourn said ‘Even when the as on souises Very handy, Les Quatre Élérinned ‘We called ourselves the Four Elementals as our names fit so well’

‘Elementals? I know the four elements—air, water, fire and earth So which are you?’

‘Alex Tempest—air’

‘So you are water, Mr Rivers? That works ith your soothing medical skills’

He gave a half bow in acknowledgement ‘Cris is de Feaux, hence the French feu for fire’