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M en kept coming at him. Soldiers with rifles, shooting at him.

Rushing at him with bayonets. Perry miraculous dodged every bullet.

Every swipe of the knife’s blade. He continually fired his pistol, never needing to stop to reload, even as he danced away from his attackers, plunging his own bayonet into them.

Weariness filled him. Sweat dripped from his brow into his eyes, stinging unmercifully, yet he hadn’t a second to wipe it away, having to stave off a new attack.

He called to his men, and they charged once more with him, following him blindly as the smoke from the cannon filled the air, obscuring everything in sight.

He continued to fight, his gut telling him it was a losing battle. He wanted to call a retreat, but the words wouldn’t come from his lips. Halting in the middle of the field, the smoke began to clear. Then the eerie silence blanketed the scene.

Perry was the only man left standing.

Surrounding him were hundreds of bodies. Mangled. Bleeding. Soldiers crying out for help, blood rushing from their wounds, limbs sliced from their bodies. The scent of death permeated the air. He turned slowly, his eyes sweeping the battlefield, until he had completed a circle.

He was the only man left standing . . .

His scream broke the silence, shattering the area with its volume, piercing his soul. Falling to his knees, another garbled cry sprang forth as he dropped his pistol and saber. He tore at his hair, tears streaming down his face, another hoarse cry emerging.

Suddenly, he awoke, feeling his fingers in his hair and the tears cascading down his cheeks. A low growl came from him, guttural, filled with pain.

Perry flipped to his stomach, burying his face in his pillow, screaming into it as his fingers grasped it.

When would the nightmares end?

Spent, he rolled to his side, shivering, pulling the bedclothes up around him.

Each morning—and sometimes during the middle of the night—he woke from horrible dreams, his bedclothes drenched with sweat.

The nightmares which had started during the last few months of the war refused to be vanquished.

He had thought they would end once he reached safety in England.

Instead, they plagued him more than before, and he assumed it was guilt at having left his men behind.

How could he, in good faith, take a wife when he was so troubled?

Of course, he would not sleep with her. He would do his duty and visit her on a regular basis until she got with child, but he would always return to his own bed.

As loud as he sometimes was when he awoke, it would be impossible to hide his nightmares from her.

He prayed time would solve the problem. That by next spring, when the Season began, he would have vanquished his fears, and the horrid dreams would no longer plague him.

He couldn’t tell anyone about them. He had no one he could confide in.

Even if he did, he would only look weak in others’ eyes.

It was imperative to keep this to himself—and hope none of the servants learned of it.

He wouldn’t be able to stomach the pity in their eyes.

Or worse, the fear that might appear, his servants thinking he had descended into madness.

Rising, he threw back the curtains, seeing that dawn was about to break. The light always helped. It seemed it was the darkness which he feared.

Perry returned to bed, not ready to ring for Grilley.

Of anyone, his valet would understand since he had accompanied Perry to war as his batman.

While Grilley had not been on the battlefield himself, he had assisted in surgeries and been one of those designated to dispose of sawed-off limbs, digging holes and burying arms and legs, covering them with dirt.

He wondered if Grilley also suffered from nightmares, but couldn’t bring himself to ask.

If the valet did, they would both endure in silence as they tried to heal.

His thoughts turned to Lady Dru and tonight’s upcoming dinner at Huntsworth.

If he ever felt brave enough to speak of his problems, she would be the one he would seek out.

She would be sympathetic without burdening him with her pity.

Of course, he would never share with a woman the horrors of the battlefield, but Lady Dru had a caring nature.

She had been absolutely lovely with Lord Tilsbury yesterday, giving the old man her full attention.

Perry knew she did not play the viscount falsely.

She was genuinely interested in what he said, not pretending to care.

Tilsbury had appreciated that, else he never would have given away one of his wife’s paintings to the young woman.

Perry yearned to take Lady Dru into his confidence, but discussing his war memories and their effect upon him was not a line he would soon cross. He did want to be her friend.

“Liar,” he said softly.

He should acknowledge what lay just beneath the surface.

He wanted her as his wife.

There. He had admitted it to himself. It was absolutely the wrong thing, but his desire for her grew the more he spoke with her. She was unpretentious. Sincere in her speech and actions. Candid. Straightforward. Perry had never met anyone quite like her.

She also had no interest in marriage. He respected that.

Women in Polite Society had no choice, but Lady Dru seemed determine to forge her own path.

What he knew of the ton was that a woman either wed or became a spinster—and spinsters were a burden upon their families.

They sometimes served as companions to other relatives or even went to work as governesses.

They were a part of a family and yet somehow set apart from the others.

While he did not want this for Lady Dru, it was not his role to convince her to make a marriage.

Besides, Lord and Lady Huntsberry seemed most kind.

If Lady Dru chose not to wed, he could see them opening up their home to her.

His gut told him the couple would not treat Lady Dru as an upper servant but more as a cherished family member.

But if she ever changed her mind, she would have men falling at her feet. Not only was she attractive, but she was also the type of woman who would only grow more beautiful over time.

Especially if she fell in love.

He had noticed a certain glow about Lady Huntsworth and Lady Aldridge.

Both women were in love with their husbands, and the two marquesses were certainly smitten with their wives.

Perry hoped that if Lady Dru changed her mind and decided to go ahead with her come-out, be it next year or another time, she would find a love match.

Thinking about next Season, he hoped it would not be awkward if Lady Dru did participate while he was in London at the same time, looking for a wife of his own.

Would his heart be able to endure seeing her dancing in the arms of another man?

Laughing over midnight suppers? Strolling arm-in-arm with a gentleman at a garden party?

Perhaps he would need to wait and see what her plans might include before he committed to attending the Season because already, jealousy sprang within him. It was mad because he held no claims upon her, yet it would cut him to the quick to see her with another man.

Perry doubted their paths would converge in the years to come, especially if she did change her mind and decide to wed.

The chances of her making a match with someone nearby were slim.

True, the possibility existed that she might visit her sister at Huntsworth upon occasion, but it was more likely that the two sisters would merely visit one another while in town for the Season.

Since he had no intention of every going to town again once he had wed, they would never see one another after her visit here in Surrey.

The light finally shone through the window, and he rang for Grilley to ready him for the day.

Perry breakfasted and went through the post, pleased that he had received a response from Mr. Chapman, his solicitor.

He had written to Chapman, asking him to come down to Surrey at his earliest convenience in order to discuss his affairs.

His father had been a gambler, and Perry needed to see just how much of the family’s fortune had been wasted on games of chance.

He already had a good idea of the income Beauville brought in, based upon reviewing the ledgers and his conversations with Rankin, but it was important to meet with his solicitor regarding all his affairs.

He had also asked that Chapman bring copies of his parents’ marriage contracts when he visited Beauville.

Perry needed to know what they contained so that he could visit his mother in town and let her know about the income she could expect.

He informed Mrs. Foster that the solicitor would arrive around noon the following day.

“I am not certain if he will stay overnight or return to town. Just in case, have a room made up for Mr. Chapman.”

“Yes, my lord. I will also let Cook know we may have a guest for dinner tomorrow night.”

After breakfast, he spent an hour with Rankin before going out on the estate for several hours.

When he returned to the house mid-afternoon, he was met by Foster. The look the butler wore did not bode well.

“My lord, I must inform you that Lady Martindale arrived a few minutes ago. She is in her rooms now, but she told me that she would be taking tea with you.”

His gut roiled. “Have a footman come to my study in ten minutes. I must write to Lady Huntsberry and tell her I will not be able to come to dinner this evening.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Perry withdrew to his study, disappointment filling him at having to cancel his plans. He knew enough not to simply bring his mother to dinner with him as an unexpected, uninvited guest.

My dear Lady Huntsworth–