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Captain Ingram’s presence meant nothing, absolutely nothing. After the war, John would propose to Jane, as expected, and life would carry on.

Then why had her heart leapt when she’d beheld Captain Ingram’s tall form, why had a sense of gladness and even relief flowed over her? For one instant, she’d believed Grandfather’s prediction, and she’d been…happy?

A mad streak ran in Jane’s mother’s family—or so people said. It was why Grandfather MacDonald spouted the odd things he did, why her mother, a genteel but poor Scotswoman, had been able to ensnare the wealthy Earl of Merrickson, a sought-after bachelor in his younger days. Jane’s mother had enchanted him, people said, with her dark hair and intense blue eyes of the inhabitants of the Western Isles. So far, her daughter and son had not yet exhibited the madness of the MacDonald side of the family, thankfully.

Only because Jane, for her part, had learned to hide it, she realized. Given the chance, she’d happily race through the heather in a plaid or dance around a bonfire like the ones the villagers had built tonight. And feel strange glee at the thought she might not marry John after all.

John, oblivious to all tension, hefted a cloth sack. “I’ve brought the things you told me to, Mr. MacDonald.”

“Excellent,” Grandfather said. “Jane, take the bag and lay out the treasures in the dining room.”

Jane’s cousins surged to her. They were the carefree Randolph boys, from her father’s side of the family. The three lads, ranging from sixteen to twenty-two, fancied themselves men about town and Corinthians, well pleased that Jane’s brother, who was spending New Year’s with his wife’s family, stood between themselves and the responsibility of the earldom. In truth, they were harmless, though mischievous.

“Come, come, come, Cousin Jane,” the youngest, Thomas, sang as they led the way to the dining room.

Jane took the bag from John, trying to pay no attention to Captain Ingram, who had not stepped away from her. “How are you, John? How very astonishing to see you.”

John winked at her. He had blue eyes and light blond hair, the very picture of an English gentleman. “Amazing to me when we got leave, wasn’t it, Spence? Thought I’d surprise you, Janie. Worked, didn’t it? You look pole-axed.”

Jane clutched the bag to her chest, finding it difficult to form words. “I beg your pardon. I am shocked, is all. Did not expect you.”

John sent Captain Ingram a grin. “I beg your pardon, she says, all prim and proper. She didn’t used to be so. You ought to have seen her running bare-legged through the meadows, screaming like a savage with me, her brother, and her cousins.”

Jane went hot. “When I was seven.”

“And eight, and nine, and ten… until you were seventeen, I imagine. How old are you now, Janie? I’ve forgotten.”

“Twenty,” Jane said with dignity.

“Mind your tongue, Barnett,” Captain Ingram broke in with a scowl. “Lady Jane might forgive your ill-mannered question, as our journey was long and arduous, but I would not blame her if she did not. Allow me to carry that for you, my lady.”

He reached for the bag, which Jane relinquished, it being rather heavy, and strode with it into the dining room where the rest of the family had streamed.

“He’s gallant that way,” John said without rancor. “I knew you’d approve of him. You’ve grown very pretty, Jane.”

“Thank you,” Jane said, awkward. “You’ve grown very frank.”

“That’s the army for you. You enter a stiff and callow youth and emerge a hot-blooded and crude man. I crave pardon for my jokes. Have I upset you?”

“No, indeed,” she said quickly.

In truth, Jane wasn’t certain. John was changed—he had been, as he said, stiff and overly polite when he’d come out of university and taken a commission in the army. This grinning buffoon was more like the boy she’d known in her youth.

John offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

Jane acquiesced, and John propelled her into the dining room. The cousins had already emptied the sack and now sifted through its contents with much hilarity.

“A lump of coal—that’s for you, Thomas.” His oldest brother threw it at him, and Thomas caught it good-naturedly.

“Excellent fielding,” John said. “Do you all still play cricket?”

“We do,” Thomas said, and the cousins went off on a long aside about cricket games past and present.

Lord Merrickson roared at them to cease, though without rancor. Lady Merrickson greeted John and Captain Ingram with a warm smile. John took on the cross-eyed, smitten look he always wore in front of Jane’s mother. Jane did not believe him in love with her mother, exactly, but awed by her. Many gentlemen were.

Captain Ingram, on the other hand, was deferential and polite to Lady Merrickson, as was her due, but nothing more.

As Ingram moved back to Jane, she noted that his greatcoat was gone—taken by one of the footmen. His uniform beneath, the deep blue of a cavalryman, held the warmth of his body.