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C hristopher tried really hard not to whoop with delight at this turn of events. He scolded himself harshly for being happy Lady Moreton was in pain. In truth, he was not. But he was thrilled to be able to put off going into this ball.

The more the lady had told him about all the people he would be meeting, the less confident he felt he could, in fact, face all these people. He used to love meeting new people, but now with each person he met, it was another opportunity for them to gasp, exclaim, or otherwise make it known to him how terrifying he looked.

He practically jumped from the carriage the moment the door was opened and the steps let down. He stopped and reached out a hand to assist the ladies. Of course, it would have been so much nicer if he could somehow convince the chaperone to stay with the coach, but that would defeat the purpose of her presence. No, he would simply have to be happy to be in Lady Moreton’s company at all.

Solicitous of her aching head, Christopher reached out and took her hand, wrapping it around his arm as they stepped from the road onto a parallel path that formed part of a formal garden. He turned briefly to make sure the companion was managing on her own and then returned his attention to Lady Moreton.

“You are too kind, my lord,” Lady Moreton said softly.

“Not at all. I know what it is to have a pounding head and then be subject to bright lights and noise. I’m extremely glad your companion suggested the walk. Hopefully, it will have you feeling better quickly.”

“Yes, I do hope so as well.”

Christopher paused to take stock of their surroundings, planning out a course for them to take. “Shall we walk toward the house or…”

“Why don’t we go toward those trees. It looks like it may be an orchard, doesn’t it?” Lady Moreton asked, nodding toward the far side of the garden.

“Yes, indeed, it does.”

They walked along at a slow but steady pace. Every once in a while, Lady Moreton would turn to check on her companion. After a few minutes, she said quietly, “She is quite good. She accompanies me everywhere without complaint and has the most amazing ability to fall asleep anywhere, anytime.”

Christopher laughed. “That does sound like an excellent quality in a companion.” He turned to see that the lady was quite far behind them. “She walks very slowly. Should we slow so she can…”

“No, no,” Lady Moreton said a little too quickly, nearly making Christopher burst out laughing. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“It is actually quite lovely out here,” he commented. “I thought I’d had enough countryside to last me for years to come, but being here with you is very pleasant.”

She turned and smiled up at him. “Was it awful, your recovery?”

“Only in as much as my mother was even more pained about it than I—but then, I didn’t have to look at my face as often as she did.”

“It must have been so difficult for all of you,” she said, understanding.

“I have to admit I was a little relieved when I heard Freddie was injured. He’s a good man, and I was sorry he was hurt, but—”

“It gave you the excuse you needed to escape your father’s estate,” she said, finishing his thought for him.

“Yes.” He was rather tickled that she understood his plight immediately.

They walked along in silence for a moment. As they did so, he realized he knew very little about this lovely woman on his arm—aside from the fact that she was a widow who worked in a veteran’s hospital. “And what of you?” he asked.

“What of me?”

“Do you get out into the countryside often? Do you like it?” he asked. “I know nothing of your background.”

“Oh!” She was silent for a few moments as they walked. “I do not go to the country often. I could, I suppose, visit my mother-in-law. She lives in the dower house at Seaford, my father-in-law’s… what was my father-in-law’s estate.”

“Too many memories there? Of your husband?” he asked gently.

She gave a little laugh. “Yes, I suppose you could say that.” She paused for a moment. “I practically grew up there, at Seaford. My own parents spent all their time in London, only remembering every so often they had a child tucked away in the countryside. Lady Seaford was sickly but very kind, so she had me stay with them most of the time,” Lady Moreton explained.

“That was very good of her.”

“It was. It was also an easy way for her to ensure there was always someone around to fetch and plump pillows and so on.” Lady Moreton was clearly trying her best not to sound annoyed by this, but Christopher was shocked that she had been treated like a servant.

“Do you mean she used you as a maid?”

“No, not really. I mean, well… in a way, but truly, I was happy to help and take care of her. She was never fully healthy, having a weak disposition. And when I wasn’t caring for her, I could play with Richard—her son.”

“Don’t tell me—that’s who you married?”

“Yes.”

“A boy you grew up with,” Christopher clarified.

“He was a few years older than me, so it was perfect.”

“And expected, I imagine.”

“Naturally.”

“How did you feel about this?” Christopher asked. He’d heard of such marriages but had never once heard they were happy ones.

“I loved Richard… like a brother,” she said quietly.

“Of course. And he felt the same about you, I imagine.”

“Actually, no. At least, I don’t think he did. I think he truly loved me… in a romantic way,” she added awkwardly.

“Oh. Well, that’s good, I suppose. At least one of you was happy in your marriage.”

“We didn’t really have time to be happy or not. He left the very day after our wedding to take up his position in the army and then was killed in his first skirmish.”

Christopher winced. “I am sorry!”

She sighed. “So was I. He was a good man. Even though I didn’t love him in… in that way, I did still care for him dearly.”

They had reached the far side of the garden and had started to walk in between the closely planted trees of the orchard. About five trees in, Lady Moreton stopped and leaned back against the trunk of a tree. “It is in his memory that I work at the hospital.”

“You are a good woman,” Christopher said. A shaft of moonlight had somehow managed to slip through the branches of the tree, and Lady Moreton now stood directly in its dappled light.

“It’s good for me. It keeps me busy. And I’m used to nursing people,” she said with a little smile.

“How is your head?” Christopher asked, the thought of nursing bringing the thought to his mind.

“My head?”

He gave a little laugh. “I’ll assume that your headache is better, then.”

“Oh! That.” She turned and looked away. “The fresh air has helped, somewhat.” She turned and looked up at him, her eyes so large in her adorable face.

The oddest sensation of warmth and possessiveness overcame him, and it was all he could do not to take her into his arms and kiss her soundly. “Maybe… maybe you would feel better if you rested…”

She understood him immediately, just as he’d hoped she would. She took a small step forward. Christopher reached out and enfolded her into his arms, encouraging her to lay her head against his shoulder. She felt so good against him, and he could feel his body respond to hers. It was a wonderful sensation of relaxation of excitement blended together. She was both a calm in the storm of his life and a thrill in his everyday tedium.

She was the perfect height for him to kiss the top of her head. As soon as he did so, she looked up without moving away. Her lips were right there, how could he not take the smallest taste of that luscious, beautiful mouth? He would have had to be a much stronger man to resist. Happily, he wasn’t. Even better, she didn’t seem to mind one bit.

With such wonderful encouragement, he deepened the kiss. She was delicious. As their tongues danced together, he was teased by the gentle scent of roses. His body responded in a way that was both reassuring and slightly embarrassing—it had been too long, much too long since he’d been with a woman. He hadn’t even given it a thought, but now, here with Ellen, he was swamped with desire. And yet, he knew he wouldn’t have felt this way with any other woman. It was her. Her kindness, thoughtfulness, her gentle manner and sweet charm. It was everything, and he wanted her.

But not now and certainly not here. He was still vaguely aware of her chaperone’s presence nearby. So, it was with extreme reluctance and a heavy sigh that he loosened his hold on her.

“I’m certain Mrs. Perbury has caught up to us by now,” she said, turning to look back in the direction they had come.

He sighed. “Yes, and I suppose we should go into the ball.”

“Oh, er, no. I don’t believe I’m feeling well enough for that. Would you mind terribly if you just took me home instead?” she asked.

“Are you certain? You were rather keen on attending—”

“Yes, please. I’m sorry. We’ll have to find another party to attend.”

“Or perhaps I could take you for a drive some time?” That would be so much easier than attending a party. One doesn’t stay still for very long while driving through the park. People won’t get much time to stare.

“To Hyde Park at the height of the promenade?” she asked surprised.

“If you would like that, yes,” he answered wondering at the lengths he was willing to go to make her happy. For some strange reason, making her happy was all he cared about.

“That… that sounds enjoyable. I’ve never actually gone for a drive with a gentleman during the afternoon promenade,” she said, sounding a bit surprised.

“Can I be completely honest?”

She looked up at him.

“I haven’t either—taken a lady, I mean. I went straight from school to the army. I’ve never really participated in a season. This will be a first for both of us.”

She gave him a big smile. “Then, it sounds as if we are both overdue for such an experience.”

“An experience. Yes, I think that will be a very accurate description.” He worried whether it would be a pleasant one but figured there was only one way to find out.

“And a party wouldn’t be a bad idea either.” Her words were slow as if she were just thinking this through.

“So, you do want to go into the ball?” he clarified.

“No. I was thinking that perhaps I could have a party—a very, very small one. A dinner party. What do you think? I could invite Lord and Lady Colburne, Aunt Amelia and Mr. Sherman, and maybe one more couple just to make up a full table.”

“That sounds very nice.” Oddly enough, he wasn’t lying. It sounded extremely pleasant and a simple way to ease back into society. So much better than attending a huge ball.

Christopher felt to be in complete harmony with Lady Moreton as they turned and headed back to the coach.

“Are you feeling better?” Mrs. Perbury asked as they rejoined her in the carriage. Christopher didn’t ask when she’d stopped following them and returned on her own, but he was grateful for the lady’s discretion.

“I am, but still not quite feeling up to the ball, I’m afraid,” Lady Moreton told her companion.

“Oh.” The word popped from the woman’s mouth and sounded disapproving, annoyed, and yet somehow relieved all at the same time.

The coach had pulled over, off the side of the drive. Christopher gave the driver instructions and then joined the ladies inside. They all watched as they drove past the entrance to the house where the ball was being held. Huge lanterns lit the way inside, and liveried and bewigged footman stood on either side of the door. It all looked extremely formal, leaving Christopher grateful they weren’t attending after all.

“It’s gotten so dark,” Mrs. Perbury complained not two minutes after they’d turned onto the main road, heading back to London.

“I can light the candles,” Lady Moreton offered.

There were two little lamps built into either side of the carriage. Christopher had never felt the need to light them, but they looked nice. “I’m not too sure there’s a tinderbox,” he said, opening the door to one of the lamps.

“I have one,” Lady Moreton said. He could barely see her opening her reticule and rummaging around inside.

“I’m sorry. You carry a tinderbox with you?” he asked. It was the oddest thing. He’d never heard of a lady carrying such a thing. On the other hand, he wasn’t well versed in what they did carry in those little bags always dangling from their wrist, and a tinderbox did seem to be a very practical thing to have.

“It belonged to my father,” she said as she pulled out a little silver box. Before he knew it, she had a small piece of touchwood lit and was carefully lighting the lamp he’d opened.

Automatically, Christopher recoiled, moving out of the light. “I think just the one lamp should be sufficient,” he said a little too quickly.

“Oh. Of course. Is that sufficient light for you, Mrs. Perbury?” Lady Moreton asked.

“Yes. Thank you. I appreciate your forbearance, my lord,” the lady said quietly.

“Not at all.” At least the light was on his better side, he thought. There was nothing more terrifying than seeing his scar in the dim, flickering light of one little candle—he knew it all too well.