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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