Regency passion that defies all rules...

Prologue

The sunlight shone dreamily through the windows of the parlor at Westmore House. The warmth of it shone onto the silk wallpaper and flowed like liquid onto the patch of parquet where Hestony stood beside Hal Ellington.

“That hairstyle looks very well on you,” he whispered.

Hestony blushed at the compliment. She felt her cheeks lift in a smile and her heart skipped as she fluffed her blonde curls coquettishly with her fingertips. She had known Hal for months now, since her cousin Emilia fortuitously married his cousin, Luke Preston, the Earl of Westmore. When Hestony met Hal, she would never have imagined it was possible to feel this way about anyone.

“Thank you, Mr. Ellington,” she murmured.

“Hal,” he said at once. “Please, use my name. We have known each other too long for formalities. It has been months, now!”

Hestony swallowed hard. “Very well, then, Hal.”

Saying his name made her cheeks flare hot, despite the long duration of their acquaintance. She had never used his name before – not to his face, anyhow. In her mind, she’d always thought of him as Hal, but had never dreamed she’d have a chance to use it. She looked away from his arrestingly-lovely blue eyes and across to the window open onto the garden.

Hal smiled. “Well, then, Lady Hestony.”

“Hestony,” she said swiftly. She arced a brow at him, making it a challenge.

He grinned, his lips pulling back in a handsome smile. “Well, yes. Hestony.”

She felt her whole body warm up, hearing her name on his lips. Her heart thudded. She didn’t know what to say, so she stepped a little away, heading to the fireside.

“You will go riding, later?” she asked. “Luke said he was going, and…”

“I will go if you are,” Hal interrupted swiftly.

Hestony nodded. “Well, I had thought Remington needed some exercise, and…” She twisted her fingers in the white muslin skirts of her gown. His eyes were on her and the way he was looking with such admiration made her heart thump even harder.

“Well, then,” Hal said. He’d crossed the room to stand a few inches away from her. “That’s settled. We’ll go riding together.”

Hestony smiled as she looked into his eyes. She felt self-conscious, but also more beautiful than she’d ever felt, when he looked at her like that. She wondered if she should change into her blue riding dress – blue brought out the color of her sky-blue eyes.

“Luke said he’d go down at five of the clock,” she said, wondering why her voice was suddenly so tense. Hal had stepped closer, and she could smell the scent of the spicy unguent he used on his hair; mixing with the musky scent of his skin it was subtle and exciting.

“Well, then,” Hal murmured. “I reckon we have plenty of time.”

“Yes.”

Hestony felt strange, being so close to Hal, and yet, at the same time, she didn’t want to move away. She wanted to stand close to him like this – or even closer. Hal seemed to feel the same way, for he had moved so that he was now an inch away. She tilted her head and looked up into his eyes.

“Hal,” she whispered.

He bent forward and suddenly her body felt something that she never felt before, an overwhelming desire to lean up, and a little forward, and press her mouth to his.

Hal moved forward and it seemed he felt the same way, for his lips touched hers. She gasped.

He tensed, but he didn’t move his mouth away from hers, and she felt, as she remained there, his hand descending onto her shoulder. She sighed and reached up, stroking the back of his head. His hair was soft, cropped close to the back of his neck with military severity. She felt him tense and wondered if she should take her hand away, but then he pressed his body against hers and the kiss deepened, his tongue probing in between her lips.

She sighed, closing her eyes. It felt so remarkable, so sweet, that she wanted to stay here, in his arms, with his lips on hers, forever.

A sound of footsteps made Hal jump. He stepped back and Hestony looked up into his eyes, feeling suddenly nervous. He stiffened, waiting for the sound to die down. Whoever it was walked straight past down the hallway. Hal relaxed, and a tentative grin blossomed on his face.

Hestony felt a smile blossom on her own lips. She felt so wonderful inside; a beautiful sweetness suffusing her, spreading from her heart right through her from toes to head.

“Hestony?” he said. His voice was husky. “I’ll see you outside?”

She swallowed hard, nodding. Her heart was thumping like a drum against the stays she wore beneath her gown. She nodded.

“Yes, Hal.”

He bowed with smooth grace and hurried down the stairs.

When he had gone, she leaned against the wall, her arms around herself, a soft smile on her face as she stared into the distance, recalling the moment endlessly.

She smiled dreamily, even as a small flare of worry fired off in the back of her mind. What exactly had she just done? Was it something she shouldn’t have done? She had a strong sense that kissing a gentleman whom she’d only recently met was something her mother wouldn’t countenance, but she wasn’t particularly concerned. She was here with Cousin Emilia, her best friend as well as her closest relation, and if anybody knew anything about the rudiments of kissing, Emilia would know. Still smiling, she drifted off to go and find her.

“Emilia?”

She peered inside of the drawing-room, but it was empty. The pianoforte stood unused, though a book of sheet-music on the top showed that Emilia had recently been here.

“Emilia?” she called again.

The long windows looked out over the front lawn, the height of the house causing the view to extend across the valley and all the way to the distant hills. Hestony looked out briefly, and then tensed.

A horseman was riding away from the gate. She thought at first it might be Luke, Emilia’s husband and the owner of Westmore House, and so she watched him riding, surprised Luke had gone out earlier than he’d meant to. But it couldn’t be Luke, for his horse was a biscuit-brown thoroughbred, and this was a night-black horse. Hestony shivered as she watched him ride at speed towards the hills, thinking that, whoever that was, he was not there for anything good.

 

Chapter 1: A Ball in the Countryside

The downstairs parlor was larger than the upstairs one, and Hestony felt cozier there, so it was where she headed, still feeling shaken by the sight of the unknown rider. She paused in the hallway, spotting Emilia seated in the parlor on the big upholstered chaise-lounge. With her were Raphaella and Canmure – friends of Luke’s – and two other people Hestony didn’t recognize. She held back in the hallway, feeling a little hesitant to interrupt the gathering.

“Hestony?” Luke walked up behind her, his voice soft. A tall gentleman and Hal’s cousin, Luke was certainly striking to look at, Hestony thought as she turned to him, though he was not the sort of gentleman she would usually find attractive. His voice was gentle, and low with concern.

“Hello, cousin Luke,” Hestony greeted him. After marrying Emilia, he had become her cousin – more or less. She always called him so.

“What’s the matter?” he asked gently. “Canmure and Raphaella are just leaving, and I don’t even know who the other two are – must be friends of theirs. I never met them before in my life. You mustn’t feel unwelcome because of them.”

Hestony covered her mouth to smother her laughter. Luke had whispered, but they were really very close to the door and the risk that the unknown guests had heard him made the whole thing even more amusing.

“Hush, Luke,” she whispered. She was still grinning as she walked in over the threshold with him in tow.

“Hestony!” Emilia greeted her. “How good to see you! I thought you might be resting, or out for a walk. Come and join us. Canmure and Raphaella are here too, though they have to leave at five for a recital.”

“Hello,” Hestony smiled at them nervously. Both men shot to their feet.

“You haven’t met Lord Grayford and his sister, Lady Leona?” Emilia inquired mildly

“No, I haven’t. Very pleased to make your acquaintance, My Lord. My Lady.” Hestony bobbed her head to both of them. Lord Grayford and Canmure sat down again after a polite bow.

“I am pleased to meet you, Lady Hestony. Alas, we also have to part company at five,” Lord Grayford said.

“I wish you all a pleasant party, then,” Hestony said, quite glad as they stood up to leave.

“Goodnight, Lady Hestony, Lady Emilia.”

“Pleasant evening.”

When they had left, Emilia stayed where she was, standing by the wall. She turned to Hestony, hands clasped.

“We’re going to give a ball here at Westmore.”

“A ball?” Hestony felt her brow lift in a delicate frown. “Cousin, are you sure? I mean…won’t all that organizing be a little hard for you?”

Emilia patted her hand gently. “Oh, Hestony. Cousin, you have a good heart. But, no…oddly, I am finding that carrying this child is giving me plenty of vitality! Raphaella mentioned it was the same for her mama.”

“I see,” Hestony frowned. “But, cousin…if there is anything that I can do…”

“I will be very happy to have your help,” Emilia said gently. “It’s going to be good fun to organize such a thing together!”

Hestony nodded, though she felt a little daunted. She had organized many parties, but never by herself. Her mother always had the guiding hand and could be so domineering that she felt quite nervous to take on the task alone.

“It will be good fun to have our own ball here in the country. A little bit of London elegance in the summer” she chuckled.

“Yes! Capital,” Emilia agreed with a friendly nod.

 

 

Over the next week, Hestony and Emilia discussed plans for the ball – it would be held in the small ballroom at Westmore House, which had last been decorated over twenty years ago, but was still classic-looking and appropriate. It was big enough to hold forty guests. They drew up a guest-list, refined it, and discussed the choice of musicians and refreshments. They planned the little details and chose their own gowns. Hestony had brought two ball-dresses with her, and Emilia had one which would still fit, despite the growing presence of the child.

“All set, then.” Emilia smiled.

“All set,” Hestony agreed.

The evening before the ball, she felt somewhat less excited. She stood before the mirror, a nervous frown on her pretty, neat features. Her hair was fluffed around her face in curls, decorated with a ribbon as a band about her head. She wore a dress in muslin, of a yellow so pale it could have been white.

“Hestony, don’t you think you should wear the pearl-set?” her mother’s voice said from the doorway. “Pearls suit you far better than that necklace…it’s a little plain.”

“It’s my heart necklace,” Hestony said, touching the little pendant with her finger. It was a gift from her grandfather who had passed away years before. She still liked to wear it on special occasions, and it was her favorite piece.

“Fine,” her mother shrugged. “Do as you like.” She sounded hurt. “I just think the pearls are far showier and suit you well.”

“Mama, please…” Hestony almost pleaded. “I’m so looking forward to this evening…”

Her mother was already walking down the stairs.

Hestony bit her lip hard, not wanting to be upset or angered by her mother’s ways. She glanced at herself in the mirror.

“I do look pretty,” she told herself firmly. “And I’m going to have fun.”

She headed down the stairs to the coach.

Westmore House was twenty minutes away by coach from the lodgings she and her mother had borrowed from their friend, Lady Amhurst. The countryside was bathed in mauve dusk and Hestony felt her spirits rise as they travelled towards the ball. She was still excited. Her mother had relaxed somewhat, now that they were in the coach, and she seemed content to watch the scenery as it passed beyond the windows.

At the house, they stopped at the head of the drive. The coachman, Mr. Emms, jumped out to help them down, and Hestony drew in an anticipatory breath as she stood at the foot of the stairs.

Westmore House was a fine home, made of pale sandstone with an elaborate entrance way and gables. The place was transformed by the light of torches: turning from an ordinary, if fine, manor to an enchanted world.

“Hestony! Good evening,” Emilia greeted her enthusiastically as she came up the steps. Her cousin was radiant in a yellow dress with long silk gloves, her hair pulled back from her face and hidden under the briefest of nets – a nod to her married status.

“Cousin. You look beautiful,” she whispered sincerely.

“And you too cousin! You look radiant. Luke’s just gone down to supervise the musicians…he’ll be back in a moment. He’ll be so pleased to see you.”

“Thank you, cousin,” Hestony murmured. Her eyes followed Emilia’s gesture to the back of the hall, where a group of musicians, dressed in black, were adjusting their seating. She searched the area around Luke, hoping to find his cousin, Hal, nearby. She searched the room once more, and spotted him, standing just beside the musicians. She hurried over, trying not to look as though she was headed in that direction purposefully.

“Mr. Ellington, how pleasant to see you here.” She dropped a curtsey, averting her eyes. Her heart was thumping. She was both nervous and excited.

“Lady Hestony,” he murmured. His eyes lingered on her in a way that made her blush. “It is a pleasure to see you here, indeed.”

Hestony smiled. “Flattery will probably get you far,” she teased., “but I have to resist it as best I can.”

“It was not flattering,” Hal said, and he did not smile. “I spoke the truth.”

Hestony looked at the floor, too moved to speak. “Oh, Hal,” was all she could think to say.

“Come…we have so many lovely things to eat and drink, and a grand choice of musicians…somebody very clever had a hand in organizing this, it would seem…?”

Hestony flapped a hand at him. “Now that was flattery, Mr. Ellington. But I am not about to tell you it was not also very gratifying.”

He laughed. “I’m glad. But it’s also true. You and Emilia have outdone yourselves. I never knew Luke to organize such fine parties alone, that I can tell you.” He laughed.

Luke seemed to have had a reputation as a bit of a stick-in-the-mud, at least that was how it seemed to Hestony. Emilia had certainly seen to it that the house was becoming a center of the local gentry – the ballroom was full of people from all over the region, and the musicians played beautiful music that could have been played anywhere in London. Modish and melodious, it set the scene, which was already glittering and lovely.

“It’s a beautiful place,” she murmured to Hal, who passed her a glass of lemon cordial. She sipped it delicately, looking up at the walls, which met the molded ceiling in beautiful designs of fruit and flowers, all carved out of the plaster. The designs were picked out in gold paint further down, and the columns themselves were marble-faced. The floor was inlaid with marble, too, and shone in the reflected light of fifty long-burning candles. It was lit up beautifully inside, and seemed enchanted to Hestony.

“This room is beautiful,” Hal agreed. “But have you seen the water-garden? It’s so beautiful at this time of evening. Really, I think Cousin Luke ought to be most proud of the place.”

“The water-garden?” Hestony whispered. The idea of sneaking out at night with Hal was almost too good to be true. She knew it would be frowned on. Her mother was busy talking to her own group of friends, and it looked like she was too occupied to try to curb Hestony’s adventurousness. She nodded.

“Yes,” Hal whispered, and from the look in his eyes she could guess that he was thinking very much what she was thinking. “Would you care to? Visit it, I mean?”

“Now?” Hestony whispered.

“It does look better at night,” Hal allowed.

Hestony flushed. The thought of sneaking out into the gardens was so exciting! She could hardly believe he offered, but at the same time she couldn’t let such a wonderful opportunity pass.

“Let’s do that.”

Hal grinned. He looked round the hall and she thought that he looked exactly how she felt – like a child about to do something very naughty.

He took her hand, and as the musicians started to play dance music, they slipped out into the garden.

Hestony breathed in the scent of dew. She tiptoed over the grass and felt the damp on the sides of her silk dance shoes. She stopped for a moment, trying to keep to the stone pathway, and Hal took her hand, thinking she needed steadying.

“Are you alright?” he whispered.

Hestony turned and nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

He smiled. “The stones are slippery, at night. I do not want to risk you falling.”

“You’re so caring,” she whispered.

He stepped around to face her. “I would do anything to make sure you are safe.”

Hestony felt her throat tighten. She blinked away a tear. “Oh, Hal,” she whispered. “I am so lucky.”

“Nonsense,” he dismissed.

She giggled.

“Now,” he added in a whisper, “shall we go and see these gardens? I believe it’s this way. I think I can hear the fountain.”

Hestony nodded and they tiptoed together down the path.

At night, with Hal, the gardens were another world. Shades of blue and black mixed together with the glossy shine of candlelight spilling from the house onto the lawns, rendering them into a world of wonder, where anything could happen.

“Here,” he whispered. “We’re almost there, and…there!”

He pointed dramatically. Hestony stared. Stretched out in front of them was a vast expanse of water – she guessed it must be about twenty feet across – and into that sprayed a fountain in such mist-fine drops that their landing was the most delicate tinkle of sound, like tiny bells. In the dark, the water was sheened with silver. It was magical, a thing of spells and wonder.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Hestony turned as she felt Hal’s warm presence by her shoulder. His hand was in hers and she found herself unable to breathe. Here in the quiet gardens, there was nobody to see them or to tell them they could not do as they wished.

Hestony felt him move from behind her, his hand slipping from hers, and she looked up into his eyes. He looked down into her eyes and her heart started to thump.

His lips descended on hers tenderly. She closed her eyes, letting her body press against him, his arms so strong where they held her against his chest. She felt her eyes close and she focused on the feeling of his mouth, gently exploring hers. His tongue was in between her lips, and she surprised herself by feeling no shock, only the longing that they could do this forever.

He stood back, sighing. Her eyes were open, and she stared into his. Blue and wide, he looked a little wild.

“Hestony,” he whispered. “We should not…I don’t wish to…to disgrace you. I think you know what I mean?”

She frowned, not sure at first. Then words she’d heard from servants – casual phrases dropped both by them and by her friends – started to make sense. The feeling she had inside her, and the things she longed for without entirely knowing their form, were for people bound in matrimony.

“Should we go back?” she suggested.

He smiled, his grin a beautiful thing, a little crazy, just like she felt. “I wish we wouldn’t.” He chuckled. “But we should. We will be missed. And I do not want to do you harm.”

“You never could,” she whispered.

As they walked back through the silent, cool grounds, the music of the fountain still in their ears, she wondered if she should mention to him the rider she had seen, and how it had made her feel. She would have forgotten about him, except for the fact that, the afternoon before yesterday, she had seen him again. Or thought she had.

“Hal,” she began.

“Yes, my dearest?”

She tensed. He had never called her that before. It took her breath away. She forgot about her worry and smiled.

“Nothing,” she said.

He smiled back and folded her hand in his, tenderly kissing the back of it. Then, hands clasped, they walked together back to the hall. Hestony forgot all about the dark presence and only remembered him briefly as they slipped back into the ball, and then only to think how insignificant it all seemed in the face of the wonderful excitement she felt this moment.

 

Chapter 2: A Trip to London

Hal bit his lip. He stood on the step, his stomach a tight knot of sadness and pain. He put his hands on Hestony’s shoulders and looked into her eyes.

“I shan’t be away for very long,” he said. Inside, he felt utterly empty. If he had been riding away for some unknown period of time, he couldn’t have felt worse. He wished he didn’t have to go! A plague on business!

“I know,” she said, giving him a brave smile. “It’s not as if London is far away…”

He smiled back, though his heart ached to do it. “It’s only three days.”

“I know.”

He would be gone for just a week. He planned to ride back as fast as possible, changing horses as often as he could. Maybe he could make the ride back in two days? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be away a second more than needed.

“Well, then,” he breathed in, trying to keep his expression calm. “I will see you soon. Take care? Be good, in my absence.”

She made a face, then smiled. “I’ll be good. It would be no fun to be anything else, if you’re elsewhere.”

He laughed and tried to resist the urge to pat her cheek. In the end he lifted his hand, cupping her face gently with his palm. His lips hovered away from her soft, moist ones, and he fought the urge to kiss her. He wanted to with every fiber of his being. He could feel the coachman watching impassively from the driver’s seat on top of the carriage, and he wasn’t about to give the staff cause to gossip about Lady Hestony.

“Take care,” she called, as he stepped down the stone stairs towards the waiting coach. “Go safely and come back as soon as you can. Have fun!”

“You too,” he called back, drawing in a deep breath and holding in his feelings. What he wanted to do was let his tears slide down his cheeks, but he couldn’t afford the risk of being so unrestrained.

He smiled and waved as she waved with her handkerchief, then closed the coach door, aware that his eyes were misting up. He bit his lip and kept his face stiff until the coach had turned in the drive, still waving at her on the steps until she was a small figure out of sight. Then he turned away, letting the window-blind fall over the coach window, shutting out the light.

“Confound it, Hal! You’re not at the races,” he swore, as his coachman set a jarring pace over the cobbles. All the same, it was his own fault – he’d requested that he take as little time to get there as possible.

He sighed. He wished his father had chosen a less-inconvenient time than the middle of his holiday with Cousin Luke to request him to check on the London accounts. Their solicitor operated from Goldsmith Street in London, and the only way to find out about the inconsistencies in the reports from the bank was to go directly there.

“Father can’t go himself,” Hal reminded himself crossly. “He’s not well enough for it, as you know.”

His father’s health had been very bad for months – he had made a surprising recovery when Hal finally got himself down from their estates in the Borderlands and back home to the estate. All the same, a three-day coach-trip and a stay in London in July was not going to be attainable for him.

And so off I go. Back to London, when everything in me wants to be here right now.

He sighed and leaned back in the coach and tried to sleep. As it always did, his mind fed him imagery of Hestony as he fell asleep, which, under the current circumstances, was not particularly helpful as it made him saddened.

It’s only eight days.

The coach trip down took three days. On the evening of the third, Hal stumbled out of the coach and into the inn, feeling like his legs had been beaten all over and then lightly ironed. He could barely walk, and his legs ached as he went up the stairs, threatening to cramp up.

“A room for one, please. And could you find accommodation for my coach and team, and a place for my coachman to stay the night?” he asked the man behind the desk. He checked that he had his wallet with him, relieved, as always, that he could afford to pay for a good-quality room for him and the team. Traveling was so much easier when one had enough cash to do it comfortably.

He barely stayed awake through supper, which he took in the parlor of the inn, away from the taproom and its crowded noise. Once finished, he went straight up to his room, where he soon fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

 

 

“It’s you!” Logan greeted him as he walked into the tea-shop on Broad street the next day.

“Hello, Logan,” Hal greeted his friend as he shook hands. He felt dreadful – so tired that he could barely open his eyes, his belly churning with hunger.

“You look terrible!” Logan said cheerfully. “Come on. Tell me what’s going on.” He pointed him to a seat and they sat down opposite each other at a small, elaborate wrought-iron table.

“Thanks,” Hal said with a grin. “As ever, you compliment me. How have you been?”

“Not bad, not bad,” Logan grinned. “I’m finally back from Cambridge, though I’ll be going up there again after the summer – the place gives me a good excuse to stay out of my home as long as possible,” he chuckled.

Hal smiled. Logan had been avoiding his authoritarian father ever since Hal had first met him at Cambridge, four years ago. Hal had no idea how Logan had contrived to stay there for so long, but, as the third son of a duke, it seemed Logan had small enough responsibilities on his shoulders and the ability to spend his time as he chose— at Cambridge, all year, except the summertime.

“I’m glad that you are as you ever were.” Hal smiled. “I’ve been well. My father’s poorly – as I mentioned in my last letter – which is why I’m down here to check on the accounts, despite wanting to be elsewhere.” He made a face.

“You have your own Cambridge, eh?” Logan asked, brown eyes twinkling.

“Not exactly,” Hal said carefully. For Logan, Cambridge was a cross between a retreat and a den of hedonism. He spent half his time living the most dissolute life Hal could imagine, and the other half being almost monastic, shut away with his reading.

“Where have you been, then? Clambering about on rocks, in your Borderland home?”

Hal laughed. “Not exactly. When I’m there, I tend to be quite sedentary. But, as it happens, I was in Yorkshire.”

“With your father?” Logan said it as if he would imagine men preferring to spend time in purgation than with their families.

“No,” Hal smiled. “I was with Cousin Luke, actually. You might remember him – he was at Cambridge three years before me?”

“I wasn’t there, then, old boy,” Logan grinned. “Remember? I came the same year you did.”

“Oh,” Hal nodded. “Yes. I just imagined you’d managed to sneak off to Cambridge before then.”

“No such luck,” Logan said, pulling a face. “Only went off when I was eighteen. Same as you. You’re only three months older, you know.”

Hal chuckled. “That’s true. I decided to spend this summer in Yorkshire, and Luke invited me to stay at his estate.”

“Got any girls there?” Logan asked, giving him a grin. Logan was exceptionally handsome – or at least, Hal had always thought he must be far more attractive to women than Hal himself was. He had a thin jaw, large brown eyes, curling brown hair and full lips, with a fine chin as well. He used his looks to full advantage, too, being somewhat profligate, or seeming so to Hal at any rate.

Hal blushed, hearing his question, then frowned, not sure how to answer. “Well…”

“That’s admission enough!” Logan exclaimed. His eyes twinkled. “Hal! That’s grand!”

Hal smiled. “You do make it sound like hard work, for me to actually be attractive.”

“Nonsense!” Logan pushed him on the shoulder, making the proprietor stiffen up, expecting a fight. Logan was smiling, though, and the man subsided into the shadows again. “You’re a stunner, Hal. I don’t know how it’s possible you never knew.”

Hal blushed. “Logan…I’m not.”

His friend chuckled. “Only in your opinion. Not in the opinion of ladies, which is the only opinion that matters. Now, tell me all about this wonderful new compatriot.”

Hal shifted awkwardly in his seat. Where to begin? Hestony was simply the most beautiful, most wonderful lady he could imagine. How could he begin to explain that to Logan?

“She’s…” he paused. “She’s very pretty, but only half as pretty as she is sweet, and only half as sweet as she is witty, and…”

Logan interrupted. “In other words, my friend, you are utterly in love. Congratulations! It’s wonderful to be in love.”

Hal ran his tongue over his upper lip thoughtfully. “I’m glad you said that,” he said. “I would have thought someone so worldly as you would have thought me an utter fool.”

“A fool?” Logan leaned back in his chair, astonished. “No, Hal. Someone as worldly as me can only look at you in love and feel awe, and maybe just a little envy. You are in a state I have always known existed, but never felt before. I wish you and her much joy.”

Hal could see on Logan’s face just how serious he was. He swallowed hard. “Thanks, friend,” he said. Having Logan’s sincere opinion did make him feel much better. If Logan thought that what he was doing was sensible, then nobody – no matter how worldly they claimed they were – could criticize him. Logan was surely the worldliest gentleman he knew, and if he found nothing foolish in it, then it was no more than sound sense.

Logan stretched. “So, Hal? Have you plans for this evening?”

Hal shook his head. “I had thought to retire early to bed. I’m a little weary after the traveling.”

Logan lifted one shoulder, an elegant shrug. “As you wish.” He grinned. “You’re here a few days, are you not? We can have some fun at the Margate Club tomorrow, if you’re feeling more chipper.”

Hal nodded, though his heart wasn’t truly in it. Now that he had met Hestony, he had little interest in long evenings spent playing cards and drinking with the dandified set of London. He found the whole thing tedious at best, distasteful at worst. Those men had little interest in settling down, and, at the moment, he had to confess that thought was uppermost in his mind.

“You look a little disenchanted with the idea?” Logan questioned.

Hal blushed. “No…it’s not that,” he murmured. “I was just thinking that it’s been quite a while since I went drinking with the lads.”

“It has, indeed!” Logan grinned. “Well, to tell the truth, it’s a little wearing for me, too.”

“Really?” Hal stared at him in surprise. Was this the worldly Logan, lady-killer of extensive reputation?

“You needn’t say that as if it’s the most unexpected thing in all of London.” Logan grinned. “You’ll make me feel like a complete dissolute.”

“You’re not completely dissolute.” Hal grinned back.

“Only slightly, eh?” Logan smiled, his head tilted to the side. “Well, I suppose that’s fair enough. Honestly, though…I envy you your uncomplicated love.”

“You do?” Hal was utterly surprised. Of all the things he’d expected Logan to confide, the fact that he sometimes wished for a simpler, sweeter life himself was by far the most unexpected.

“I do,” Logan confirmed. “My life is…complicated. I long for simplicity.”

“I can understand that,” Hal allowed. “My life feels simpler now. I know what I want, and it’s simple enough. I only wish to spend as much time as I can with the lady I so admire.”

Logan made a small huffing noise, and Hal felt as if he might be being mocked, except that the expression on his friend’s face was haunted, rather than amused.

“What is it?” Hal asked, feeling a little sorry for Logan.

“Nothing,” Logan shrugged. “Just that…in the face of such innocence, I feel extremely old and tired.”

“You’re certainly not old,” Hal assured him. “In fact, I reckon you look younger than I do.”

“Really?” Logan touched his hair, disconsolately. “I saw five gray hairs the other day. Five! Hal, I’m positively aged!”

“No, you’re not,” Hal contradicted, smilingly. “You’re eight and twenty. That’s young.”

“Not as young as I was, old boy,” Logan countered.

“Still young, though,” Hal commented lightly. “And young enough to change everything about your life, when you choose to.”

Logan rolled his shoulders. “Well, there’s a thought. I wouldn’t mind changing the fact that my accounts need to be paid soon. I suppose I can – by the expedient of telling my solicitor to pay the things.” He sighed.

Hal chuckled. “We can go together, if you’d like? We can take coffee at that newly-opened establishment in Bakerwell street? What’s it called? Exley’s, or something?”

“That’s the one,” Logan nodded. He looked more cheerful at the thought of going to the office with somebody else. “Well, then. We’ll do that, and take a coffee afterwards. Shall we meet at ten of the clock?”

Hal nodded. “Yes. Let’s. I look forward to it.”

“I do, too, old boy,” Logan agreed gently. “I do, too.”

 

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Chapter 1

The music played softly, sending an air of happiness and celebration through the entire room. Lady Esther stood by the corner, placing the lilies in the right places. Everyone was gathered, waiting for the arrival of the couple. Lady Katherine was at the other end, signaling to Esther, asking if everything was alright. Esther nodded vigorously; her excitement was quite obvious in her smile.

It was the beginning of a new season and her friend, Anne Balfour, was now wed to Lord Henry Huntington, Duke of Richmond. Lady Esther had taken it upon her to deal with the wedding preparations. Anne, along with Lady Katherine Ramsbury, daughter of the Duke of Somerset, happened to be Esther’s best friends. The three had been inseparable since youth.

The ballroom threshold pushed open minutes later, and a shout erupted from every corner of the room. The couple walked in, hand in hand, eyes on each other. Lady Anne, now wife of Henry Huntington, Duke of Richmond, was dressed as a bride should be in a flowing white dress and her hair adorned with white roses. Esther reached up to wipe away a tear of happiness. She was delighted that her friend had found joy at last.

Despite the circumstances surrounding their union, Anne and Henry had pulled through. Esther shuddered, thinking of it all. She didn’t want her relationship to be so complicated. She knew she didn’t have the strength for such. She just wanted to wed Nicholas, be happy, and start a family. The roar of laughter drew her attention to the crowd. She looked up.

Clinging to Lord Richmond’s arms, Anne hid her giggle by pressing herself into his embrace. She looked beautiful. Esther wondered if she would look so divinely happy and elegant on the day she and Nicholas wed.

“Oh, Nicholas,” she sighed as she watched Anne chuckle at something Lord Henry said. Theirs was true love! Even someone who stood miles away could see it.

Esther sighed again at their bliss. Not in a jealous way, but in a romantic way. She could hardly wait to be joined with Nicholas and share their love. They were going to get married, and they were going to look into each other’s eyes, just the way her friend and her new husband were doing at this moment.

Esther had known Nicholas Kel, Viscount of Milway, since she was a babe. Their families had strong friendship bonds and the two had grown up together. At her debutante, he had been there for her. And not long after, he had approached her and started to make advances. When he was sure she felt the same way as he did, he went on to seek permission from her father and began courting her. They went to events together, shared quality time, and even spent time with one another during afternoon tea.

Esther was so confident that she loved him. He meant so much to her. She couldn’t wait for them to become man and wife, finally.

Her eyes widened when the Duke and Duchess of Richmond announced that the waltz might take place. She clapped her hands gleefully and squealed, attracting stares from around her. She blushed when a young gentleman beside her stared at her in amusement. Esther put her hand to her mouth and cast her gaze down.

Looking around, Esther could see no sign of her fiancé. She wanted to have a dance with him. However, as much as she loved to waltz, on this occasion, she also wanted him to be there when Anne threw the bouquet. Esther was hoping on catching the bunch of flowers.

She walked up to Nicholas’ sister, Mary, who stood with her red hair pinned up high and her hands holding on to her husband’s, Lord Julien, a Scottish Count. Esther smiled in her direction as she grew closer. Mary was very close with Nicholas, and Esther assumed that she would know of his whereabouts.

“Hello, Lord Julien,” She curtsied. Then nodded to Mary, who wore a bright smile. “Lady Mary.”

“Lady Esther!” Mary kissed both her cheeks and stood upright. “Hello.”

“Have you seen Nicholas?” She requested, hurriedly, glancing behind her shoulders. “I want us to waltz together.”

Lady Julien nodded, pointing to the door behind her. “He just went out for a bit to get some air. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” Her smile softened. “And Esther, he kept talking about having to walk down the aisle with you. He can’t wait.”

Esther creased her brows. That was so unlike Nicholas to become emotional. But honestly, she wasn’t surprised that the ceremony had moved him as it was quite affecting. Casting her lashes down, Esther nodded at the couple. “I have to find him then.”

Gathering her skirts slightly, Esther headed towards that direction which led to a dark path of the manor.

Esther stepped onto the darkened pathway and walked toward a small, stone structure erected a distance away from the ballroom. Since she didn’t see him in the gardens or along the path, she assumed he was inside the enclosure. Being of an unassuming character, Esther kept her steps light to avert an echo on the polished stone footpath and, of course, she would never have thought to have called out Nicholas’ name. That would have been too assertive for someone of her timid nature.

As she approached, rugged breathings hung in the air. Was someone choking? Should she seek help before going further?

She stopped by the candleholder beside the wall. She stared around. The ball seemed so far away from the corner where she stood.

“More,” came a low moan from the open area.

Esther creased her brows, still quite confused. Then she walked deeper into the secluded area, making sure to avoid the clump of her shoes.

“Yes! More!” A woman’s raspy voice said.

Esther stilled; her spine went stiff. Her hands went cold. Was it what she thought it was? Had she stumbled upon a passionate interlude? Blushing deeply, Esther prepared to turn away until she heard the woman’s next words.

“Yes, Nicholas…more!” the throaty voice moaned.

“No.” Esther shook her head, it couldn’t be.

Propelled by her faith, she stepped towards the opening and peered her head out to look around the dimly lit corridor. Her face was drained of colour as she took in the scene. A lady had her back to the wall, her hands in her partner’s hair, their lips exchanged kisses frantically, quickly, as though they couldn’t have enough of each other. His hands moved against her exposed thighs, his breath ragged, more like panting. Moans filled the air. Esther was unconcerned about the heat and passion these two oozed, she was more concerned that standing there, caressing that woman, was her fiancé, Lord Nicholas Kel.

 

****

 

Esther was shaking. Her eyes kept blinking deliberately, trying to hide her tears. It couldn’t be, could it? That he had…No, not my Nicholas!

She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her dress and turned to the wall to breathe for a moment. Her fiancé was still in there, in the arms of another, sharing a heated moment. As it appeared, a moment of pure passion. Her hands shook as she rapidly blinked.

What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she go out there and let him know she had seen him?

She shook her head, knowing full well that confronting him meant shattering right before his eyes. She craned her neck sideways, to see if anyone was looking at her. Thankfully, there was no one around. She swallowed hard and starting walking back to the ballroom, with her gaze down and rubbing at her hands.

“Esther, is everything alright?” Anne’s voice jolted her, her head jerked up, and her tears returned.

Anne inclined her head, her dark hair glowed, under the silver band that held the flowers. She looked beautiful. Her dark eyes settled on Esther who was again crying. “It’s nothing. You should return to your husband. You’ve just been wed.”

Anne touched her shoulders. “What happened to you Esther? It doesn’t matter that I am wed. You’re my friend.”

Clenching her jaws to hold her tears, Esther shuddered.

Anne moved closer. “Esther, if there is something wrong, then I implore you to let me in on whatever is going on.”

But Esther barely heard the words as she pulled Anne behind her and walked towards the entrance door, hoping no one else would follow. Esther nodded towards the darkness, her eyes glistening. Anne peered out, her eyes went wide, and Esther watched as her jaw clenched. She made to move forward, but Esther gripped her arm, with tears now cascading down her face, she shook her head and whispered. “Leave it be, Anne.”

Anne stared at her horrified. “Leave it be? Your fiancé, who is supposed to love you, is betraying you at my wedding! We should stop it! How can he be doing this?”

From behind them, another voice intruded. “What’s going on? Anne, you need to return to the ball. You’re being missed.” Esther sighed as Katherine joined them. She didn’t want everyone in on this.

Anne nodded, her shock still visible. When Katherine saw her pointing out towards that direction, she made to push past them and head out. But Esther gripped her arm hard, to prevent her from accosting the passionate couple, but her friend saw everything she needed to see.

With her expression cold and unreadable, Katherine looked between them. “Anne, I’ll stay with Esther. You should return to the ball. The Dowager Duchess of Richmond has been looking for you.”

“I left while everyone was dancing so I’d be unnoticed.”

“The dance is over now. Run along,” Katherine insisted.

Anne nodded once, and reluctantly turned around and walked back inside the ballroom.

Katherine turned to Esther abruptly with her voice low. “Esther, you can’t stand here crying or wallowing in self-pity. Go there and confront him. Let him know what you have seen. Now!”

Esther shook her head. “I — I can’t.”

Katherine gripped her shoulders softly, turning Esther so she could face her. “You have to do this. Gather your strength and face him squarely. He has to know that you have seen him.”

Esther shook her head again. But this time, Katherine was more insistent. “Confront him, Esther. It doesn’t matter that you cry before him. It’s a sign that you truly love him, and he has broken your heart.”

After much persuasion, Esther gave way and nodded to the path. The moans were not as loud as before. She could only hear the giggles of the woman that stood before him, baring her breasts to him. As Esther stepped out, walking reluctantly, her tears rushed. She swiped at them angrily, feeling her rage building up. As she approached, they both looked up.

The redhead pulled away from him and turned her back to Esther, gathering herself. Nicholas’ eyes widened, and he pulled at his breeches, but his face was as hard as a stone.

“Why?” Esther tried, unsuccessfully to stop herself from crying.

Nicholas cocked his head to the side. The clump of his boots echoed in her ears as he stepped forward, pulling at his waistcoat. “Lady Esther, you ask why? Because I have pleaded with you for months, days, pleaded to have you —”

“I said you’d have me when we are wed!” Esther cried. “You will wed me, then you have me. Was that too much to ask?”

“Yes!” Nicholas snapped. “It was too much to ask. That I keep myself for a wedding night that seems to be taking forever to happen.” His face softened. “I loved you, Esther, and I wanted nothing more than for our bodies to be witness to our love. But you wouldn’t give me that, so I sought it from elsewhere.”

“From another woman,” she muttered.

“I didn’t mean for it to get so far. But I remember asking for your touch five days ago! You turned me down, blushing. Esther, that was hard for me, even painful! Wedding be damned, I needed you!”

Esther nearly choked. He had called her beautiful that night. And he had said that she blushed like an angel. And that was after she had turned him down — all just a lie.

“It was just months away! You just lost your grandmother, and we thought that the ceremony would happen after your family would be through the mourning period. I wouldn’t get married to you when you still wear the black band!” she pointed to his arm where he tied the mourning band, a sign that he was still in mourning for his loss.

“Nonsense!” he snapped. Esther paled. “This band means nothing. It doesn’t stop us from sharing our love beyond telling each other.”

The redhead brushed past Esther, leaving Nicholas’ scent at her wake. A reminder that Nicholas had just bedded another. Esther nearly choked on her tears.

“And then being with her? Does that mean you get to express your love to her? Do you love her? Is that why you were with her? Do you?!”

“Look, Esther —”

“I loved you. I wanted our wedding night to be special. But then you go and do this?”

He hissed and snarled at her. “I would have ended this engagement if not for the ton. What they would say, what would they gossip. In all honesty, Esther,” Nicholas snapped the last button of his coat while trying to button up. “You bore me. You keep casting your gaze down, not looking in my eye when we talk, shifting at every little touch. You lack fire. I want a lady who would —”

“I will never forgive you for this.” Esther whispered, her tears falling more as the harsh reality of his words hit her. “It ends here, Lord Milway. You go and find yourself someone with the fire you seek. And I do hope you both burn together.”

Esther was crying profusely now. She turned abruptly and ran out of the corridor. She ran past Katherine, whom she knew had been eavesdropping. Esther clapped her hands over her mouth and ran through the twin doors that served as the main entrance of the ballroom, leaving curiosity at her wake.

She was so sure of what would happen when she opened her eyes the next morning. The news would have spread like wildfire, and she would be tongue-tied, unwilling to tell why her engagement to Nicholas had broken off.

 

Chapter 2

Stefan Hamilton, Sixth Duke of York, stood outside of Sands Castle, home to his mother, the Dowager Duchess Elena Hamilton, and his brothers and sister. It felt wonderful to be in the arms of his family once again. He had missed them so much.

“Stefan!” The young boy called, running towards him. The blonde that followed behind him had a scowl etched on her beautiful face, and a much older boy stood by the pillar, arms crossed, a smug smile on his face.

“Help me, Stefan!” Robert giggled, rushing behind Stefan for cover.

Alexandra glared at Stefan, “Hand the lad over.”

Stefan laughed. “Calm down, Alexandra. I’m sure the lad made a mistake. He’ll never trouble you again, I promise.”

“You always promise that Robert will never cause trouble, but he always does! There’s no escaping him. And he troubled me because he knew you’d arrived. So he could run to you and take cover. Hand him over, Stefan! I’ll spank him, so he knows never to do that again.”

“And what would mother say about you spanking her beloved, Alexandra?” Robert chided.

“Argh!” Alex growled. “You see now what he does?”

Behind her, William hid his chuckle behind a cough. Although his siblings’ disagreement entertained him, he did not want to be drawn into the fray.

Stefan tried to mediate between the two. He touched Alexandra’s shoulder and grinned down at her. “Come on now, Alex. We all know Robert always says you’re his favorite. Teasing you is his way of getting to you.”

“By troubling me, you mean. I find no favour in that.”

William couldn’t hold his laughter anymore, he burst out, clutching his sides.

Stefan hid his laughter behind a somber look. Acting as the arbiter to one of his siblings’ disputes was not the welcome he had anticipated.

“Alex, my dear sister. I’ve come a very long way from France. Is this the welcome I get?” He spread his arms wide and grinned at her.

Even his little sister could not refuse him when he smiled. She smiled back and jumped on him, hugging him dearly. “We have all missed you, Stefan!”

William sauntered over to them. Robert hugged his legs. He saw his mother emerge from the door, a smile on her face.

 

***

 

He had been gone for nearly three fortnights. When he was handed the duchy and everything involved in its running after the sudden death of his father, Stefan was shocked. He hadn’t been emotionally ready to take over such responsibility.

After a year of being the Duke of York, he found that he was doing it all wrong, unable to make the right decisions, unaware of what was truly happening around him. He had been trained for the day he would take over but he had not expected it to be so soon.

His mother had sent him to France, to meet with the Duke of Guise, who was her father’s longtime friend and confidante. She had said he would help her son pull through. And he had because Stefan was back— stronger and better.

“Who made this meal?” Stefan asked, nearly choking on how much salt had been added to the stew.

Robert pouted his small lips, shaking his head. “Alexandra thought she’d surprise you upon your return, so she persuaded the cook to let her prepare this. But it’s not much of a surprise anymore since the meal isn’t so good. Am I right, Stefan?”

William, who sat beside the eight-year-old burst into laughter. “Sometimes I forget you’re still a babe, Robert.”

“Am not!” Robert snapped. “Stefan said I’m a lad!”

“A lass, you mean.” Alexandra smiled sweetly from where she sat. She had been quiet while everyone ate. Except, no one was eating. They had not touched their meal at all. Only Stefan had been eating. They all knew that a lady of fine breeding with no practice whatsoever, couldn’t possibly master the art of cooking.

Stefan dabbed the side of his mouth and tossed the napkin aside. Alexandra cast her gaze down, ashamed. Stefan smiled at her. “Come on, Alex. You’re a noble lady of seventeen. Cooking isn’t for you.  Mama must have taken care of the things that a girl of your status should know by now. How to dance, paint, sew and —”

“Lady Castleroy has demanded that I learn to sew now!” Alex cried, unable to hold her tears any longer.

Robert no longer laughed or pouted. He stared at his sister in pity. William looked away.

“Who is Lady Castleroy?”

“Lady Castleroy is her chaperone.” William cleared his throat.

“Chaperone? Hmm… And she…?”

“Has been giving Alex a tough time. She’s too hard on her. And her debutante is a year away, not days away. Mother would not agree to what me and Robert say. She believes Lady Castleroy will prepare Alexandra to appear before the ton,” William hissed.

He seemed furious. “It’s quite unfair! The lady gives her almost impossible tasks. She asked Alex to walk with heavy books from papa’s library on her head! It was outrageous! And mama wasn’t around to see!”

Stefan rubbed his jaw. Although Alexandra was older than William by two years, the boy was very protective of her. Even Robert, who bothered her often, was protective of her as well. His siblings were close, they understood each other. And he liked that they did. He was proud that they were so loving. That they understood each other’s pain. Even though he was much older than they all were, he often stayed around talking with them. He didn’t want to be estranged with any of them. Not ever. Not after what had happened to —

“Stefan! Will you talk to mama? Alex wants another chaperone.”

He rose instantly. “Of course, Robert. I will speak with her now.”

With substantial strides and a growling stomach, he headed towards the salon. He pushed the doors open and stepped in. His mother sat there, rocking back and forth in a chair and reading one of the poems she enjoyed so much. He stopped by the door when he smelled something. He tilted his head, his nose flaring.

“Mother, is that chicken —?”

“Oh, of course, dear. I’ve had a meal prepared for you. I knew that after eating Alex’s surprise, you’d still be hungry.” She chuckled. Then she gestured to the table beside the settee opposite her. “You should help yourself.”

His mother always knew what to do. He took a seat and began eating immediately. “So, Mother, what is this I hear about Alex’s chaperone giving her a difficult time?”

The dowager scoffed. “Nothing of such, dear. Lady Castleroy is strict, yes. But, at this point, she is what Alex needs.”

“But —”

“Alex wore breeches a month ago and went to shoot arrows at trees. I think she has forgotten she is a lady and not a boy. Her debutante is less than a year away, and if she keeps this up, she may end up a spinster for life. I don’t want that for her.”

Stefan pressed his lips together. After taking a sip of the wine his mother had placed before him, he inclined his head. “No one says anything good about Lady Castleroy.”

“It means she’s doing her job then. I want Alex to be a proper lady before the season ends.”

Stefan saw the point in what his mother was saying. Alexandra liked to behave like a lad. And maybe he had a hand in that somewhat by humoring his sister so much.

“And you!” The Dowager Duchess tossed her book aside and sat up, startling him a little. “You need to find a bride before the season has ended. I want you wed within two months!”

“Mother,” he sighed.

“That’s final, Stefan. Your reputation already precedes you. Everyone knows about all the women you bed.” The Dowager Duchess scowled. “I want nothing of that! You will bring home a proper young lady, not one who behaves like a lad, not an actress — oh definitely not — not one with a dotted background either. I want the future Duchess of York to be perfect.”

“Mother —”

“I suggest you stop sleeping around and settle for one. I will have no more word of you spending the night with any random woman. If word gets to me, you won’t like what I will do.”

He raised his brows at her threat. If there was one thing he was with her, it was honest. Touching his neatly combed blond hair, he flashed his heart-winning smile at her. “Mother, pray tell, why one lady should be allowed to have all of this?”

The Dowager scowled. He went on. “Mother, you know my feelings. I’ve always been plain-spoken with you regarding my views on marriage. Besides, William would be of age soon, and I assure you, you’d see your daughter-in-law then. But certainly not from me.”

“Stefan, stop that. It only works on other women, not me.” She had caught him. He was trying to win her over with his smile.

“Does my smile not remind you of father?” he teased.

She glowered at him, but he could see she was trying not to smile as well. “Stefan.”

He chuckled. “I’m not doing anything.” He shifted the table aside. The plate left was filled with bones, as he had eaten everything that had been on it.

“No, Stefan,” she called as he rose. “You will do exactly as I say. Keep away from all those women who let you bed them! Stefan —”

He bit his lips so he wouldn’t smile. When she threatened her children, one would think she had no love left for them. But he knew exactly how she felt about her beloved children.

He walked over to her and kissed her chastely on each cheek. She froze. “Where are you heading to?”

“I have…business to tend to tonight.”

“But you have just arrived!” The dowager massaged her temples. “Oh, dear Lord.”

Stefan knelt beside her, his hands on both sides of her chair. “Mother, you know I can’t get married. I don’t want to, ever. I am happy just the way I am. I need no lady to fill any space in my heart.”

The dowager’s eyes softened. “Child, there is a void in your heart, and when you find love, you will be free. All of this burden will be lifted from your shoulders. I know why you fear —”

He rose to his feet, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat.

“No, mother. Don’t.” His smile disappeared and was replaced by a stony look. “I will not get married. I don’t want a bride. Love is an illusion; it does not exist.”

“What I had with your father was no illusion Stefan.”

“I know…but you were lucky. Not everyone is in luck when it comes to love, and you know it.”

“You have to let it go Stefan.”

“I have.”

“I hope, for the sake of Alexandra, William, and Robert, that you have. Because you have to, my child.”

He nodded at her once. “I’ll see you later Mama.”

“You’re getting older, and you need to wed.”

“I’m barely seven-and-twenty, Mama, I’m not quite old yet,” he muttered dryly and pulled open the salon door.

He had plans for the night. Thank God he’d made out those plans before going to see his mother. Because now more than ever, he needed to escape. He needed to escape Sands Castle and its pressures.

He had sent word to Miss Althea Bagsaw. He was to spend the night with her at Morton’s Place. Even his mother’s insistence of abstinence would not stop him. He didn’t need a damned wife. He just needed someone to satisfy him, and that was all. He had missed bedding English women. While in France, he had his fair share of women, but he had kept it at a minimum because the Duke watched him like a hawk.

 

**

 

The orphanage was swamped with little children, who despite everything provided, still looked unhappy, some angry, some sad and most seemed indifferent. He suspected it was not hunger that kept them this way but a void. A void which they hoped would someday be filled. Their parents had abandoned them, leaving them to endure the pains of the world alone. Stefan didn’t know what that was like, because all his life had his parents at his side. But he did know what it was like to lose a loved one. He donated to the orphanage a while back, and upon his return, he had announced that he was going to be there much more often, overseeing things for himself. After all, it was his duty to look out for his property — as the Duke.

While he watched the children, at the other end of the large room, by the doors that led to the nursery, there stood a lady. A few more other ladies surrounded her, but this one caught his eyes because she was… What? Because she was simply standing there?

He wasn’t quite sure. She looked delicate, fragile even. She stood, talking to a little girl and handing her something from a bag. She was dressed in blue and her light brown hair was left to tumble down her shoulders in waves. Her skin was pale, her long delicate fingers held on to sweets, which he presumed she was giving out to each of the children. She was slender, and not so tall, which made her look almost petite. Maybe that was what made him stare at her.

“Your Grace,” a lady said as she bowed, coming to stand in front of him. Lady Kinross. She was in charge of the orphanage. “You requested to see the children who are gravely ill. We have their room ready for you to visit.”

He blinked twice, before nodding. “Yes, yes. But who are all these people here?”

He gestured around to people walking by, and to the ladies at the end of the room.

Lady Kinross shrugged. “People who want to do good by helping children. They come to visit as they please. But we have marked out this day for visitors…”

“I see.” he nodded. “Take me to the children.”

The lady smiled, and he walked behind her.

 

 

***

He moved the horse closer to the river and the animal neighed. When they stopped at the bank, Stefan made no effort to get it to drink from the river. One could bring a horse to the water, but one can never force it to drink from it.

The horse neighed again, shying away from the water. Stefan sighed, looking up. He glanced ahead to see that the other side of the river was higher, with rocks built atop and dried to the earth. It seemed beautiful, staring at it from where he stood. Behind it, the horizon had risen. The sun glinted partly, for its image was covered by the rock. His horse seemed restless and nearly distracted him from staring at the sun. He held onto its reins firmly, but set his gaze high.

The horse neighed again, walking away from the river. Stefan almost gave in, but he remained where he was. He wanted to watch the sun as it changed colors across the horizon. Another neigh made him sigh. “Oh, all right. Let’s head out.”

He turned, and almost as though the sun was calling out to him, he heard a gasp. He swung back sharply. Standing at the edge of the rock and staring down at the river was a lady. He couldn’t make out her face because the sun shone her way and into his eyes, blocking his full view.

“Don’t move!” he screamed. But it was too late. Small stones rolled gently down the rocky hill, the lady gasped again and jerked forward a little. Stefan caught his breath as she stumbled down the stony hill and fell into the water with a loud splashing thud. She fell at the center, where the river was the deepest. He cursed, let go of his horse, took off his boots, and walked quickly into the river. The path where he stood was shallow, but as he drew near, the water’s current increased and his feet sunk deeper.

Soon, he was under, his breath held and his hands moving before him, clearing his path. He looked around, searching for the lady. When he neared the edge close to the rocky hill, he saw her sinking. Her hands were limp and the water was carrying her away from him. He swam quickly to her. Trying to fight the current, he tugged at her left hand with his right and used his left hand to fight against the pull of the water. He swam them both to the surface and toward shallow water. Once he could stand, he walked towards the riverbank, pulling her along with him.

His horse nickered, watching him. It was a miracle the beast had not fled. While the lady remained still, he pulled her to him and laid her on the riverbank. She was still motionless. He cursed. The water must have gotten to her. He pushed her hair aside, as it had been covering her face, so he could perform artificial respirations by placing his mouth on hers and breathing into her to extract water from her system.

He was stunned when he saw it was the lady from the orphanage. He held his breath and stared at her gown. It wasn’t what she had been wearing at the orphanage.

Sighing loudly, he bent his lips to her parted lips, placed his lips over hers, and blew his breath into her body mightily.

He repeated the process a few times and moved away from her, waiting for her reaction. He watched as the lady moved a bit, then gasped, her eyes flying open. Her lips parted, and water sputtered out if it. She was soon coughing and his hands instinctively rubbed her back. He sighed, thankful that she was alive. Soon, she laid back down on the sand, her breathing rough, like she was trying to catch her breath.

He was still above her. Her eyes flew open again, and he was soon staring into beautiful grey ones. Stefan watched as a flurry of emotions passed across her face and through those eyes. He had to crease his brows as he deciphered what those feelings could be. There was fear, panic, and then, maybe, sadness. She had, after all, almost lost her life. He stared at her, her pink lips, her high cheekbones, the flutter of her lashes. Soon he was leaning in, he heard her intake of breath, but he couldn’t stop himself. He closed in on her and once again placed his lips upon hers. This time, however, with a completely different intent. She gasped at the contact, and soon, they were both biting at each other’s lips very slowly, uncertainly, still conscious of what was happening. His hands curled into her brown hair, which felt like silk in his hands. So soft. He moaned as he pressed his body to hers, almost entirely lying above her. He felt her fists clench his waistcoat, and then, shove at his chest.

Weakly, he tossed himself aside, landing on the sand. He heard the scrambling noise beside him. Stefan glanced over just as the lady picked up her skirts by the hem to flee. He didn’t look up to know what direction the lady took to. Stefan simply lay there, staring at the sun and wondering what madness had fallen on him.

 

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