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After they’d been seated and the meal had begun, Titus began his questioning. The sooner he aided Portia, the sooner he could give his other quest his full attention.

“What sort of husband are looking for?” he asked.

Portia giggled softly. It was the same sound he remembered from their youth—soft, sweet, with just a hint of playfulness. “Straight to the point, I see.”

“I believe you did say the situation was most dire.” He then realized she hadn’t responded to his earlier question regarding her family.

“Were Lady Oaks and Miss Oaks not invited?” The words shot of his mouth before he could stop them.

He was not one to inquire after the latest on dits , and truly did not care, but he was curious as to why her domineering half-sister was not present.

“They were, but Hilarie has taken ill, and Judith did not want to leave her.” He could almost hear the relief in her voice at not having her relatives present.

Not for the first time, he wondered just what she had endured through the years.

“I was very much surprised when Lady Whitby offered to chaperone me.”

“I see.” Titus would bet his largest estate in the Peak District that his aunt had arranged everything this evening, including his being partnered with Portia for dinner.

Was his aunt attempting to play matchmaker?

No, surely not, especially not after he’d made his stance on marriage clear.

Perhaps Adeline knew of his agreement with Portia and wanted to aid her in finding a match—other than Lord Webber?

That was a more plausible reason. He was certain of it. His aunt had a kind and generous heart.

“Back to my question?—”

“Ah yes, what sort of husband…” She thought for a moment, then replied, “Since time is of the essence, and sacrifices must be made, I?—”

Titus shook his head. He didn’t want Portia to accept less than she deserved. She shouldn’t have to, regardless of what her family dictated. She deserved so much more. “No sacrifices. What do you want?”

Their eyes locked and that foreign feeling bubbled up again. Damn, if his heart wasn’t set on his mystery goddess, he would take a mistress tonight just to satisfy the lust clearly consuming him and clouding his mind.

“Love, intelligence, and kindness.” Her response was simple, pure, just like her.

“What about title, wealth, or how handsome he should be?” All things most women of the ton were insistent upon, it would seem. It was certainly what his mother had been after. Why had she entered his thoughts again?

“A title will not keep me warm through the dark winter months. What is wealth if in the hands of a dim-witted man? Handsomeness is only on the surface. If he is a good man, a decent man, then he is the most handsome to me.”

Titus could not fault her for wanting any of those qualities, and was not surprised by her response.

Even when they were children, Portia had looked past outward appearances to the goodness within a person, but she was not a fool and would not be played.

She knew her mind and was true to herself, but never at the sacrifice of others.

Those were qualities that he’d always been drawn to.

She was the opposite of so many women. Quite the opposite of most people in general.

“Does such a man exist?”

“Hmm, so it seems a sacrifice may be necessary,” she said, then winked.

Laughter rumbled from within. “Perhaps not that drastic. I am reluctant to say so, but perhaps a compromise?”

Her mood turned sullen and her smile faded into a half-frown. “It seems all I do is compromise.”

The pain of her words struck his heart. What had she endured over the past years?

Guilt settled in his gut. In her darkest moment, he’d assumed the worst of her, only caring for his emotions and grief.

That distant day when he and his father had tried to visit Portia came full force to the front of his mind.

“I don’t believe she declined to see us,” his father said as he stepped into their carriage.

Titus plopped down on the seat opposite his father. “What other excuse is there? She clearly is happy in her new life and doesn’t want ? —”

“My son,” Father started in a firm yet gentle tone, “I think time will tell a different story. I’ve known Portia her entire life, and there is not a disingenuous bone in that sweet girl’s body.”

“I don’t agree,” Titus mumbled under his breath, unwilling to hear more. She was just like his mother.

If only his father’s words had resonated with him then instead of his false opinions, which had built to the point of destruction.

“What happened at the Oaks’s residence?” he blurted.

“I do not wish to discuss it.” Her words were quiet, weighed down. “I need to concentrate on the task at hand. I?—”

Loud laughter rumbled from across the table, disrupting the moment.

A short time later, dinner concluded. The gentlemen had their brandy, and the women retreated to the music room, where the men would rejoin them shortly for the entertainment.

Titus hoped to have a moment to talk with Portia again then.

He wouldn’t press the issue of the past, but hopefully, Portia would finally open up to him.

It almost felt as if he was getting to know his best friend all over again.

He followed the men to the music room, where they joined their perspective parties.

Only the area nearest the instruments was sufficiently lit, adding an air of mystery to the gathering.

An abundance of hot house roses adorned the alcoves, creating fragrant retreats. He glanced about, searching for?—

“She’s standing at the back of the room, near the corner,” Flora whispered as she brushed past Titus, then joined their aunt amongst a sea of pink roses.

Instinctively, he knew whom Flora was referring to.

He casually strolled toward the corner. None of the other guests seemed to take note of where he was heading.

This wasn’t the usual gossiping crowd. Quite the contrary, in fact.

Lady Swan often hosted intimate dinner parties for a small circle of friends where good conversation was the order of the day, and there was a strict unspoken rule that nothing would be repeated to those not invited.

“Do you not care to sit?” he asked as he approached Portia, catching a hint of lavender that tickled his senses, almost begging a memory.

“You see, if I sit, there will be no one to hold up this wall.” Although her words were meant to be amusing, they were laced with uncertainty. “Actually, I’m quite comfortable as a wallflower,” she confessed.

“We must change that if I am to aid you in finding a husband.”

T he moment Portia had entered the music room, she’d been overcome with a mixture of joy and sadness.

She was delighting in her time with Titus, but knew it would not last. He was offering friendship in the name of aiding her to find a husband.

She also wondered if he ever thought about the kiss they’d shared—not that he knew it was her—but every time he was near, remembrances of that perfect embrace warmed her insides.

She wanted to know if it had affected him as much as it had her, but there was no way of discovering that answer without revealing it was her, and so her question would go forever unanswered.

But what if he was as moved by the kiss as her? And what if he knew it was her? Did he feel what she was feeling, the love that surged…

Oh dear, she’d fallen in love with Titus .

You’ve been in love with Titus practically your whole life , her heart reminded her. Ever since he’d held your hand so gingerly while crossing the stream .

It had been stormy for nearly three weeks, and when the sun finally broke through the clouds, the young adolescents could not wait to escape the confines of the house and explore the drenched landscape.

They’d crossed that stream dozens of times, but with all the rain, the normally gently flowing brook had turned into a fierce torrent.

Intent on keeping up with Titus, Portia had underestimated the force, and became stuck on a large rock, unable to cross the remainder of the way on her own, too scared to turn back.

“Stay where you are,” Titus called to her.

She watched as he hopped gracefully from one boulder to the next until he was one stone away. He stretched out his hand, and without hesitation or fear that she would fall into the water, she’d reached for it, knowing he would keep her out of harm’s way .

Moments later, they were safely on the other side. The only thing lost was her heart .

“I’ll always keep you safe, my Portia.”

So lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized he’d found her in her corner until he spoke. “Do you not care to sit?”

She didn’t truly belong here, amongst the illustriously titled and well-connected guests. She belonged in the quiet of the country, surrounded by books and maps. She wondered if Titus still desired the same?

She tried her hand at humor, hopefully deflecting what she was truly feeling. “You see, if I sit, there will be no one to hold up this wall. Actually, I’m quite comfortable as a wallflower.”

“We must change that if I am to aid you in finding a husband.”

And then, curiosity got the better of her. “Do you ever intend to marry?”

Silence enveloped them for countless seconds until the music began.

Titus shifted closer to her, so close she could feel his heat.

In that moment, she wanted to reach up and kiss his lips once more, to feel his body pressed against hers, to experience the pure desire of being held by him, and never be let go.

“No.” And just like that, the spell was broken. Titus had clearly not been affected by the kiss they’d shared and did not think of her the way she thought of him. He was a rake through and through, nothing more.

A dull pain started to fill her body. They continued to stand in silence, and before the music ended, he slipped from the room.

She didn’t think it possible, but by the time he departed, her entire being ached, weighed down by grief.

She felt as if another chapter of their friendship had just ended.

“Such a lovely evening,” one of the guests announced as they left the room.

“I agree. The music was superb,” another guest commented.

The chatter swirled about her in snatched sentences until finally she spied Flora approaching. Stamping down her distress, she pasted on a smile, and attempted to not let any of her true emotions show.

The rest of the evening passed slowly. Titus had disappeared, and she felt more alone and out of place than ever before.

By the time she’d returned to her temporary home, all she wanted to do was retire, but just like so many things in her life, her wants were ignored.

“You must tell me everything that occurred this evening,” Judith demanded the moment she set foot into the house. “And do not omit one detail.”

Portia recounted the evening, and of course, left out quite a few details. She was not a gossip, and not about to disclose any part of her conversation with Titus.

“Was Lord Ravensworth in attendance?”

“Yes,” was all she replied.

“Well?” the single word hung in the air. “What did he say? Who else was there?”

What was she to say? She couldn’t very well reveal that she’d fallen in love with her friend, that he still didn’t know that it was she that he’d kissed, or that she’d asked him to aid her in finding a more suitable husband.

“He was amiable to all the guests and then departed during the musical entertainment.” All of which was true.

“And Lord Webber was not invited?”

Not quite knowing what her relative was up to, Portia chose her words carefully. “If he was, I did not see him.”

“Hmm.” Judith rubbed her hands together. “I think I may have an idea.”

Portia did not like the gleam in her half-sister’s eye. For reasons she could not place, she suspected her situation had just changed, and not for the better.