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“I think I’m beginning to understand,” she whispered, and then, because she wanted to, she lifted his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. Gavin understood her in a way that no one else did, and she was going to do her very best to try to do the same for him.

When she looked up at him through her lashes, his expression was unreadable in the candlelight. Still, instead of pulling away he squeezed her hand.

“Perhaps we should see what Mrs. Hart sent us off with,” he said. “I have a feeling this will be a memorable feast.”

If Gavin thought anything of the fact that she’d kissed his hand he didn’t show it. Instead, he sipped his wine and ate his food amidst the easy banter.

“What do you mean you’ve never learned to swim?” he asked.

“Where would I have gone swimming in the middle of Edinburgh?”

“This whole country is spotted with lochs. One of them must have been convenient for a dip,” he said.

“Have you ever put your hand into a loch?” she asked with a laugh.

“I can’t say that I have.”

She pointed her wineglass at him. “Precisely. They’re fed by snow. Just think of how cold that would be.”

“That just means that Scotsmen aren’t as hearty as they pretend to be.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you insulting your adopted country?”

“I’m an Englishman at heart, remember?”

“One who, I’d like to point out, is displaying classic English arrogance,” she said, popping a grape into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully. “Tell me something you’ve never done.”

“Like what?” he asked.

She threw out the first question that popped into her mind. “I’ve never stolen something in my life. Have you?”

“Yes.”

She laughed and said, “You have?”

“In Ashington,” he said, dropping his voice into a mock sober confession. “I was seven and wanted an atlas more than anything, but my father refused to send for one from Hatchards. I thought, why bother waiting for permission when I could go to Mr. Lang, the bookseller in town, and buy one for myself, but when I got there I realized I didn’t have enough money. When Mr. Lang’s back was turned, I left what I had on the counter and walked away with the atlas.

“I was halfway down the street when he ran out and snatched the book back. The atlas was so large I don’t think I could’ve run if I’d wanted to.”

“Oh, Gavin,” she said, imagining the little boy staggering under the weight of the huge book.

“I was so scared that I never stole another thing,” he said.

“I suppose it’s your chance to tell me something you’ve never done.”

He toyed with the wineglass in his hand, deep in thought, until suddenly his face lit up. “I’ve never dropped a plate at a dinner party.”

She scowled. “You wretched man, you already know that story.”

He held up his hand. “I swear on a stack of Bibles I have no earthly idea what you’re talking about.”

She buried her head in her hands and muttered, “Fine. It was one of my first suppers after I came out. Mrs. Coleman wasn’t my chaperone yet. It was Mrs. Malloy, a friend of my mother’s. I was seated a few chairs down from her, between two gentlemen I didn’t know. I was terrified of saying something wrong, but it was the serving utensils I should’ve worried about.

“I was reaching for a piece of fish when a bit of oil on the fork made my fingers slip. It clashed against the spoon in my other hand, sending the fish sky-high and the fork straight down onto the serving platter. The poor footman wasn’t paying attention, and the whole thing flew out of his hands and across the room. Five fillets smashed against the baroness’s wall and slid onto the floor.”

Gavin choked on a sip of wine.

“I prayed the floor would swallow me whole,” she said.