For a Lady's Irresistible Gaze

A REGENCY ROMANCE NOVEL

MEGHAN SLOAN

Copyright © 2021 by Meghan Sloan

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Table of Contents

For a Lady's Irresistible Gaze

Table of Contents

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For a Lady's Irresistible Gaze

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Epilogue

A Lord's Bet of Desire

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

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For a Lady's Irresistible Gaze

Introduction

Despite growing up among the luxuries of high society, Lady Esther Harewood’s brilliant mind would

always travel elsewhere, to far away destinations she wished to explore. Love was also unexplored

for her, as she considered every lord in London cut from the same cloth- however, a dance with

Captain Arthur Morgan would soon prove her wrong. Enthralled by the stories of his travels all over

the world, and utterly mesmerized by his battle-honed body, Esther has decided that he is the only

man she might dare marry. His touch awakens hidden desires in her and her heart is set on a fire that

can’t cool down. Somehow though, he always seems to be just out of her desirable reach… When she

finally uncovers the secrets of his past, will she be able to lay aside her doubts for a chance at a fiery

love?

Lord Felton Gale is on a mission and one mission only; to get revenge for the pain Duke Harewood

had caused to his sister. Newly returned from war, he sees no future for himself, but wants to ensure

one for her. Hatching a plot to make the despicable Duke pay for his hurtful action, his sights are set

on Lady Esther, as ruining her seems to be the only way to get the Duke back. Disguised as Captain

Arthur Morgan, he launches a campaign to seduce and destroy the alluring lady, as her brother had

done to his sister. Little did he know though that a tantalising chapter of his life was about to begin,

with sparkles of passion appearing between them. Will he manage to tame his overwhelming feelings

and stay focused on his mission, or will he succumb to her sinful seduction?

The more Esther and Felton explore the depths of their connection, the more they find themselves

sinking deeper and deeper into a profound new world that challenges their past selves. However,

secrets will soon start to spill, threatening their passionate connection with irreversible extinction.

Will their burning desire defy every obstacle that stands in their way? Will they finally dare to give

love a second chance or will their lustful affair dissolve before they surrender to it??

Chapter 1 London, November1815 Stepping into his ancestral home, in Oxfordshire, Felton Gale – Earl of Colborne and newly retiredCaptain of the Royal Navy – could tell that something was amiss. Instead of his family greeting himby the door with relief; he was welcomed by an empty foyer. Not a maid or footman was in sight, and as he removed his snow-dotted greatcoat and tricorn hat,Felton ruffled his dark brown hair. Hurried footsteps had Felton turning and his aged butler, Harrison,came down the stairs—the troubled expression told him his hunch was right. “Welcome home, My Lord,” Harrison bowed. “I am immensely pleased to have you back with ussafely.” “As am I, Harrison,” Felton replied, “Now, would you care to tell me why my mother and dear sisteraren’t with you? I have spent over three years away.” “It is Lady Catherine, My Lord,” Harrison replied. “She received some unexpected news today.” Hearing that his genteel sister was unhappy had Felton halfway up the stairs before the butler couldcontinue. “What is the matter? The last correspondence Mother was able to send to me told me thatshe was engaged.”

“Yes, My Lord, but—” Maids were lingering at the door of the main drawing room and scampered away at seeing them.Felton could not pay their unprofessional actions any mind as his sister was seated on a divan,sobbing. Her fingers were twisting a handkerchief and her fair hair, always perfectly coiffed, wasaskew. Their mother, Dorothea Gale, Dowager Lady Colborne, was trying her best to console her daughter,but Catherine seemed to be having none of it. “Catherine!” Felton exclaimed while stranding into the room. “What is the matter?” “Felton,” his mother gasped in surprise and stood. “Welcome home, dear.” “Thank you, Mother,” he replied while training his concerned gaze on his sister, “But Catherine, whyare you so distraught?” Instead of getting a reply, his sister shoved a letter at him before covering her face with her hands.Felton’s lips flattened, and his eyes ran over the words quickly. Halfway through the letter, cold ragebegan icing his veins—the letter was a message of marriage rejection. I am assured you will find a suitable prospect to marry as you are tolerable in manner andprettiness, but I prefer true beauty—my best wishes to you. His eyes dipped to the signature, John Harewood, Duke of Ayles, and his molars nearly groundthemselves to dust in the back of his mouth. Who was this arrogant cad, who dared to insult his sister

so callously? “Seven m-months,” Catherine sobbed in her handkerchief, “We courted for seven months, and now, n-now as I anticipated him to propose, he’s gone and broken the c-courtship off…” she broke off with akeening cry. “And I loved him; I truly loved him!” Dropping the tear-stained letter, Felton crouched at his sister’s knees and rested his hand on herknees, “Catherine, you have nothing to grieve for. This thoughtless Lord has made the most foolishdecision of his life by rejecting you. Count your blessings, love, he does not deserve you!” Catherine’s lips trembled, “Truly?” “Without a doubt,” Felton replied as he stood, “Do not discredit yourself for a man who has neitherclass nor ambition. You will make the right Lord a wonderful wife.” “He’s right, dear,” their mother added, while rubbing her daughter’s back, “You are not any lessbecause this lord has turned away from you.” Pressing the heel of her hand to her eyes, Catherine sniffled, “But what if—” “There are no ifs,” Felton replied while taking her hand. “Why don’t you go to your chambers andrest. Distress is not a becoming look on you.” Embracing him, Catherine smiled, “Thank you, Felton, and I am sorry you had to come to this horriblewelcome. I am happy that you are home.”

“Me too,” Felton said, then nodded to a maid. “Please help her to her room, draw a warm bath, andsend up some tea.” “Yes, My Lord,” the woman curtsied and helped Catherine to her room. Unable to sit, Felton paced to the window and gazed out at the snow-covered lands of his family’shome. Forcing his locked jaw open, Felton said, “How are you, mother?” Standing, the dowager came to him and rested her hands on his shoulders, with a smile, “I amrelieved and overjoyed that you are home, son.” “As am I,” Felton uttered while trying and failing to hold back a grimace, “This Duke of Ayles; whatsort of man is he?” Retaking her seat, Lady Dorothea’s lips down-turned, “He is a sensible young man, Felton, well, Ihad believed so up until now,” her slim shoulders shrugged, “But he is a Duke, Felton. He has thepick of all the beautiful debutantes and any lady who tickles his fancy.” “He’s a rakehell,” Felton’s eyes narrowed. “No, no,” his mother replied. “He is not a despoiler of women, but by his status, he does not lackwilling admirers.” “Be that as it may,” Felton growled, “He had no right to insult Catherine so shamefully.”

“I know,” his mother sighed. “And what is worse is that Catherine has bragged about her pendingnuptials all summer. Now that the engagement is broken, she will never show her face in the ton’sassemblies again. And then there is that despicable Miss Jane Hill, the scandalmonger amongst us. Ifshe gets knowledge of it, she will take this embarrassment and make it insufferable.” Concerns about this Miss Jane Hill aside, Felton’s focus landed sorely on this Duke. “I cannot fathom how he would do this to a lady who he knows is ready for marriage,” Lady Dorotheamourned. “He has a sister of marriageable age himself.” “The only way I can see us escaping this scandal is if we show that it was Catherine who broke theengagement,” his mother said. “If the news comes from him, she will become shunned and thelaughingstock of the class.” Rubbing his forehead, Felton asked, “I assume we can do so by appearing at the next ball and sowingthe seed there.” “Would you take her?” Lady Dorothea stood and went to hold his hands. Worry marked his mother’sface with a grim line around her mouth and tight set to her eyes. “I know she is weak and unsure aboutherself,and you can be strong enough of her. And with you returning from war as a hero, the attentionwill be on you.” I doubt that. Catherine is and always will be the socialite. At her weakest, she is still going tooutshine all others. “Do we have a ball in mind, Mother?” he asked.

She nodded, “Lady Ashford’s ball. It is reputed to be the highlight of the season. If you attend andarrive before His Grace, you will have the advantage to shift the attention from her.” “When is this ball?” “Tomorrow night,” Lady Dorothea said, smiling, “Don’t worry about the details; I am sure we can getyou a lovely suit to wear.” Felton had hoped for a few restful days, as his body was still tense and aching from months on a stiffship bed and days battling on land when the infantry was low. He bore visible scars on his body, andhis mind carried memories of atrocities no one should ever have to have seen. But, again, he was being called to help—and he would never reject his sister. “I should retire, Mother,” he said. “But we will straighten this out on the morrow.” “Thank you, Felton,” his mother replied. “I know you have to rest, but tonight, we will have thathero’s welcome you deserve.” “Thank you, Mother,” Felton embraced her briefly, “Send up a bath, would you.” *** His mouth clamped down on his tortured cry before he woke the whole house with his shout of

horror. He swiped a hand over cold sweat bathing his brow as he tried to dispel the shatter of acannonball snapping the main mast in half and the flash of a sword nearly missing his throat. The nightmares would never leave him—he knew that. Just as he knew that no lady would suffer himin a marriage bed, having night terrors every time he closed his eyes. Chucking the sheets off himself, Felton stood and padded to the window to fling the panes open. Therush of cold air soothed the flushed skin of his bare chest a little as he rested his forehead on the coldsill. From the position of the moon, it was most likely past midnight and heading to dawn. His eyes dropped to the large scar on his belly, a wound that had nearly claimed his life if the medicshad not sealed it shut with a hot iron. Felton flinched at the visceral memory of the heat scalding hisskin and the rigours of pain he had shuddered through, nights after. The scar was still puckered and was a sight he hated; it was as much a reminder of the war as hismemories were. He gazed out into the night while forcing himself to focus on this Duke of Ayles. If itwere not for the plan to rescue his sister’s reputation the next day, he would have found this cowardand forced him to explain himself—but Catherine’s situation needed urgent action. Bracing his hands on the windowsill, he knew he would not get any more sleep that night, but he stillwent back to bed. Folding his arms under his head, Felton thought of his sister. She had barely been seventeen when he had left, a young, wide-eyed, naïve, and superficial girlgrowing into a woman’s body. He did not know how she was now, but even if she still prizedcosmetics over books, he was duty-bound to help her—and since at least one of them in his familyhad the chance to marry, Catherine should take it. ***

Lady Ashford’s ball was indeed a crush, and Felton gazed at the glittering, ignorant peers impassivelywhile wondering if they knew—or cared—about the many people who had sacrificed their lives sothey could throw soirées like this one. “Oh, isn’t it glorious, brother?” Catherine swooned as they descended the steps to the massiveballroom. Felton cast a cocked eyebrow to her; for a woman who had been utterly disconsolate the day before,she was beaming brighter than the light reflecting off the chandelier’s cut crystals. Resplendent in agown of shimmering dove-grey silk ornamented with silver trefoils and matching hair ornaments andfan; Catherine had transformed into an elegant, mysterious fae creature. Dressed in his intimidating military apparel, Felton was sure that he looked as inviting as athunderstorm with his dark suit, hair, and stern expression. “Remember,” Felton said as he guided her to the seats. “Find a friend of yours, or two, and make itknown that you were the one who broke the engagement. “I know,” Catherine said while waving to a few women. “And don’t forget to enjoy yourself as well.You cannot be such a stuffed-shirt all the while.” “My happiness and future are not the ones on the line,” Felton replied pointedly. “Yours is.” Catherine twisted her fan open, “I’ll be fine; go ahead, mingle.”

“I’ll have a glass of punch,” Felton said, “And then, I will be back for your first dance. Try to get thatengagement into the conversation as quickly as possible. We do not know when his Duke will appear,and when he does, half the room should already know that you are not the party to blame.” His sister’s lips flattened, “Will you just allow me to do what I do best?” Felton’s eyes narrowed a little, but he nodded and walked away. Catherine might be a bit flighty, buthe had to trust her with her handling her reputation. A scandal as enormous as being rejected by aDuke would surely dissuade any other suitor and warp her in a bow with spinster stitched all over it. He found the refreshment table and quickly downed a glass of water. He was not going to let spiritsmuddle his concentration and discernment. Striding back to the dance-floor, he stopped whensomeone called his name. Pivoting on his heel, Felton felt a smile tug at his mouth—it was Lord Camden, Rawden Hind, afriend of his from Oxford, his slim figure dressed in embroidered velvet. But at the same, his attentionlatched onto a man entering the room and who was immediately surrounded by a circle of women—mothers and widows Felton assumed—who no doubt wished to gain his attention for their daughters. Darkly-haired, handsome, and reeked of wealth—Felton did not have to assume; he knew who theman was—the bloody Duke of Ayles had arrived. “Gale,” Rawden stuck out his hand, “Welcome home, Captain.” “Thank you, Hind,” Felton nodded tersely. “If you do not mind, I’ll have to speak with you later onthis evening. I have to attend to my sister for a moment.”

Dark brows darted into Rawden’s straw-coloured hair, “The lovely Lady Catherine is here? I missedyour announcement.” Over Rawden’s shoulder, Felton spotted a young woman, tall and red-headed, lingering in the Duke’sshadow. She did not look to be one of his admirers but instead seemed impassive as if nothing oranyone in the room was interesting to her. Hadn’t Mother said that the Duke has a sister? Could it be her? A swift judgment call had him uttering, “Why, yes. Would you like to meet her again?” “I certainly would,”Rawden tugged at his sleeves. “By the by,” Felton asked, “That Lady with the Duke. Do you know who she is?” “That’s Lady Esther Harewood, his sister,” Rawden titled his chin at her. “Unload your cannons,Gale; His Grace only wants the crème-de-la-crème for her. She is nigh untouchable.” Perfect. So this is how the score will be even. Nodding, Felton led him to where Catherine was sitting. As he approached, he saw that her back wasextraordinarily stiff and heard her laugh that was a touch too brittle. Indeed, she had seen the Duke’sentrance as well. “Catherine,” he greeted lightly, “Pardon the interruption, but may I reintroduce Lord Camden,

Rawden Hinds; Hinds, my sister, Lady Catherine Gale.” Delicately extending her hand, Catherine said, “Pleased to see you again, My Lord.” “As am I,” Rawden replied, bowing over her hand. “And he had asked for your first dance,” Felton added. “I—” Rawden nearly asked, but with Felton’s encouraging gaze, adjusted his words, “I have, but hestressed that you have a deciding say.” The call for the first dance and Catherine nodded quickly, “I would love to be your partner, MyLord.” When the two went off to the dance-floor, Felton went to the sidelines and spotted the Duke’s sisteras she went off to the dance-floor with a Lord. She still looked bored with the proceedings, andFelton’s jaw clenched; she was probably as lofty and arrogant as her brother and thought other peoplewere disposable. The more he stood and watched, was the more he grew irritated. Her impassiveness irked him, andher smile was a counterfeit as the golf damask on the walls. Her brother was in a corner, speaking toa lady who looked ready to melt into a puddle at his feet—one who, Felton was sure—the Dukewould lead on and reject as he had done Catherine. This family had to be taught a lesson…and he was going to be the one to do it.

Chapter 2 Listening with half an ear to the Lords monotone’s recount forming his leather making business,Esther nodded politely at intervals to show she was hearing. Why is it that John does not have any exciting friends? She did not want to feel bored coming to these events, but after three years of attending balls since hercoming out at sixteen, Esther had come to realize that there was little change in any of the ton’sengagements. The lords were staid, and the ladies were fixed on sabotaging each other to gain thebest marriage arrangement. As a Duke’s sister, she had the litter’s pick, but all the lords were all cut from the same cloth, Estherbelieved. No one lord she had met had a spark of passion or spontaneity and—her deepest desire—mystery and danger. Lord Fraser certainly did not fit the criteria with his leather business andfondness for creating wooden replicas of ships. The dance came to an end, and she curtsied with relief. Heading towards the refreshment table, Estherlooked for John and found him, again, surrounded by people, women, seeking his attention, and menwho were seeking what they could get from him. Sighing in exasperation, Esther went to her second chaperone, her maid, Margaret Smith, who wasseated with other mamas and chaperones. Esther counted her as her closest friend; her demurelydressed maid was speaking with another lady when Esther greeted them and took her seat. “Is something amiss, My Lady?”

Opening her fan, Esther said, “No, no; my brother is occupied, and I am finding that the lords hereare…staid choices.” “And by staid, you mean dull and dreary,” Margaret replied. “I wish you did not know me as much as you do,” Esther mumbled. “Is it too much to ask that a lordbe handsome and interesting without him being a dandy or a fortune seeker?” “I would not say the odds are against you, as I believe that there is someone for everyone,” Margaretreplied, “You will find the perfect Lord, My Lady, I believe you will.” Smoothing her skirts with one hand, Esther studied the room and noted a few ladies she had gone tofinishing school with—sadly, even now, they still avoided her. Her eyes flickered to her brother, andher fan stalled when she saw that he was walking over with two gentlemen in tow. The first looked like a dandy, with embroidered velvet suit and perfectly coiffed hair, and her eyesskipped over him to the second—who made her breath catch. The second was dressed in militaryclothes and walked with an air of power and authority. When he neared, a closer look had her heart leaping into her throat; his dark, gleaming black hairfeathered around a face that was sculpted with fierce perfection. His jaw was stiff and square, hisnose was a little crooked, but his eyes, placed under the dark slashes of brows, were a startling shadeof silver .She half-covered her face with her fan and tried to look away but could not. The brass buckling shone brightly on the field of a dark blue coat, and the pristine white of hisbreeches hugged his muscular thighs. His silver-blue waistcoat was shot through with silver threadsto match his coat’s buttons and his white linen-cravat - tied with such precision - set off his naturallydark colouring to perfection.

“Esther and Miss Smith,” John said, “May I introduce Lord Camden and Captain Arthur Morgan ofthe Royal Navy.” “Pleased to meet you—” she then spotted the Captain’s eyes and realized that they were not silver,but blue. “—both.” “Miss Smith, is my sister’s dance card filled?” John asked Margaret while Esther turned her eyesaway from the soldier’s piercing gaze. Fishing out the card, Margaret replied, “Her card is almost filled, My Lord. Should I be makingadjustments?” Pursing his lips, John said, “Whoever is her next dance, will have to be shuffled lower, as CaptainMorgan has a question for you.” The man in question bowed, “Will do me the honour of being my partner in the next dance?” Her face warmed, and Esther felt mortified at the look she was presenting him; it was bad enough thather hair was red, with her face mirroring it, she feared that her face was mimicking a fireworksexhibit. “I’d love to,” Esther heard herself utter, but her voice felt foreign to her ears. Taking his hand, shenearly shivered at his firm grip, and when he swept her away to the floor, Esther found herselftongue-tied.

Under the shimmering light from the chandelier, Esther was enveloped by his eyes, an ethereal hue ofsilver and blue that shifted like smoke. She could only offer him a faint smile before the music to awaltz started, and he took her into his arms. “If you don’t mind,” she asked hesitatingly, “How long were you in France?” His lips twitched, “Why do you assume I was in France? Mayhap I was the West Indies, protectingour dear Regent’s ships from marauding pirates? Or perhaps I was in the far east, bringing spicesfrom the unknown mythical parts of India?” “Were you?” Her eyes grew as wide as saucers. Without him knowing it, he had pulled her attention better than a fiddler would with a violin’s string. His expression turned grave, and his eyes flicked dim, “Sadly, no, I was in France, My Lady, and Istayed there long enough for me to want never to see that land again. Not for anything in the world.” “If you had been in the West Indies or the far East, would you want to go back?” Esther asked. “SayIndia, would you stay?” “If given a chance to live the life of a royal and ride an elephant like a Maharajah, yes,” CaptainMorgan nodded, “I’d like to know what it feels like to be a prince—” he paused to spin her and whenshe came back his eyes smouldered, “—and you would outshine any princess there.” Stricken by his daring flirt, it took Esther a long while to reply, “I hardly think I am that…exotic.”

His smile was sly as the music came to a crescendo, “A lady as beautiful as you are is the most exoticof them all. I’ve seen birds with plumes the vibrant colours of the rainbows, and I assure you, none ofthem can compare to you.” Her heart did a silly little hiccup at the way he was looking at her; the Captain’s eyes were hoodedand enigmatic, but that did not stop the shivers from racing over her skin. She backed away with a stumbling curtsy. “You are…rather forward, Captain Morgan.” “Perhaps I have lost my touch,” he looked contrite, “Was any of it charming, I would hope?” Charming, no, seductive, yes. Taking his arm, she smiled, “Are you fishing for compliments, My Lord?” “I’m hoping I have not offended you,” Captain Morgan replied, his expression turning to a touchremorseful, “I’m told that I can be a bit…blunt.” “I prefer candour than blatant hypocrisy or those who beat around the bush,” Esther said whilelooking over to see her brother. His back was turned to her, and Esther took the chance to haveanother moment with Captain Morgan, “Shall we go to the refreshment table?” Captain Morgan’s brows disappeared into his hairline, but he did not refuse her and only covered herhand with his before moving off to the secluded alcove. “We’re alone.”

“We are,” Esther replied. “I must admit, I wanted to ask about your travels.” He laughed softly, “Punch, wine or water, My Lady?” “Water, please,” she murmured. Not moving her eye from him, Esther admired his precise movements. He filled the glass quickly andhanded it to her; when Esther took the glass from him, the brief brush of their skin nearly had herdropping the crystal. “Thank you,” her lips curved. He poured himself water, “Is your brother unwelcoming to a man of my statue courting you? A navycaptain just returning home?” The glass stopped at her lips, “I’d be heavily disappointed in him if he were. You risked your life forus to enjoy ours; that is a feat I think anyone would admire.” His ethereal eyes traced over her face, “Even you?” Boldly meeting his gaze, Ester replied. “Even I.” Captain Morgan came closer and stopped a foot away from her, but the sliver of space between them

did not matter—for his warm gaze made her feel closer…much closer. “What do you prize in a man, My Lady?” “I won’t spill my secrets…” Esther said, then hopefully added, “…Not on the first encounter withyou, at any rate.” “Secrets,” he stressed, reaching up to tuck a wayward tendril of her hair behind her left ear, andhuskily murmured. “I suppose I will have to call on you again then to find what they are.” Esther gathered her wits and rested the glass on the table, “I’ve digressed. Have you travelled furtherthan France?” “Ah, now I would be the one spilling my secrets,” Captain Morgan smirked. “You will not be gettingthem from me so easily either, My Lady.” Nibbling her bottom lip, Esther asked, “How about we make a trade now; you will tell me if you havetravelled farther from France, and I will tell you the number of prime traits I prize in a Lord; agreed?” “I have travelled further than France, four places to be exact,” Captain Morgan clarified. “And I have five traits for the ideal Lord,” Esther replied, then pushed her chances, “May I guesswhere you went?” “You may,” he said, then extended his arm, “But I will not answer, not tonight.”

Pouting, Esther took his arm, “You’re no fun.” “On the contrary,” Captain Morgan grinned as he led her back to her family, “I believe I am, but mysense of fun is not orthodox, My Lady?” Stopping short, Esther asked, “And what do you mean by that?” He pulled away and bowed, his expression as enigmatic as the sphinx, “I suppose you will see when Ivisit. Good evening, My Lady.” Her eyes tracked him as he went off to the other side of the floor and struck up a conversation withother Lords. He stood almost a head above the other men and held himself with regal poise. What hadhe looked like in the middle of battle? A few visions of him standing behind a ship’s wheel, his facedark with rage and roaring for the cannons to fire, slipped over her eyes. He must have looked magnificent. I wonder if he still has his sword. “My Lady?” “Hm?” “Your next dance partner is approaching,” Margaret whispered. “I’d look away from the Captain if Iwere you.”

Dragging her eyes from the debonair man, Esther lifted her gaze to the Lord coming to her and foundhim—lacking. The Lord’s blond hair was suavely combed; he dressed in buff trousers and a maroonwaistcoat. Seeing him approach, Esther assumed he was perfectly ordinary, but ordinary was run-of-the-mill, and she wanted intrigue—and intrigue carried the name, Captain Arthur Morgan. “Lady Harewood?” He said, “I’m Norman Dunn, Earl of Hommer. May I escort you to the dance-floor?” Unable to look away, Esther smiled as she stood, “Very pleased to meet you, My Lord.” He led her out to the dance-floor and, before she took his hands, glimpsed Captain Morgan’sbrooding look before he moved away. During the next three hours to suppertime, she did not see himagain—and after dinner as well. When the ball resumed and slipped into the wee hours of the morning, she did not see him, and herheart sank with the feeling that he had left the ball. I had not even given him my card. She danced twice but was not heartened in doing so; mercifully, neither of her partners had caught onto her disinterested state, and she was relieved for their inattention. “Would you like to go home, My Lady?” Margaret asked quietly. “I’d like to,but I will have to wait upon John,” Esther replied. “Where is he? I did not see him at

supper either, and he would have never left without me. Mother would drag him over the coals.” “Oh!” Margaret nodded to the stairs. “Here comes His Grace. I suppose he was in the card room.” Looking in the direction her maid was facing, Esther spotted her brother and another Lord speaking toeach other on the stairs landing. The Captain was not among the rest coming down the stairs—perhapsthe Captain had left. John came to her with a raised eyebrow, “Why aren’t you dancing?” “I’m tired,”Esther replied while wrapping her arms around herself, “May we go home?” “I am not ready to leave yet,” John replied, “But I can send you home in the meantime. I’ll call for thecarriage.” After a nod and another look over the Lords, Esther felt a little cold that the Captain had left without aword.“Thank you, John. Would you say my goodbyes to the hosts for me?” “Sure,” John said, before calling to another Lord and moving off to speak with him. Pressing her lips tightly, Esther went to retrieve her coat and donned it while Margaret dressed aswell. When the carriage came to the gate, a footman helped them into the vehicle, and they started offto their townhouse at Mayfair. Gazing out into the dark, snowy night, Esther sighed heavily. I suppose I will not see Captain

Morgan again. “If it is not too bold to say, My Lady, I do not believe Captain Morgan would have left without anexplanation. He does not strike me as a man who is half-hearted in anything. I am sure that he musthave had a good explanation for leaving without telling you why.” Tugging her lapels tighter, Esther inclined her head, “I hope so.” It was not long until they arrived at the townhouse that Esther and John used during the Season,instead of having to travel to their sprawling county home in North London. A light snowfall hadstarted to flutter, and a footman came out with an umbrella for her and Margaret. “You don’t suppose he’ll know where I reside, do you, Margaret?” Esther asked, grimacing a little atthe bereft tone in her voice. She had barely met the man, for mercies sake, and though she found himfascinating, she should not be so taken with him. “I’d like to think he will find you, My Lady,” Margaret said while closing the umbrella. “It is notmuch of a secret where His Grace lives.” Esther mounted the stairs to her quarters with Margaret a step behind her, while an ember of hopeglowed in her heart. Between her bed-chamber and her quarters’ entrance was a small but functionaldrawing-room, with padded chairs scattered around a coffee table and her wide escritoire. Sitting on that desk, placed in a blue china vase, was a blooming bouquet of snowdrop flowers andwhite roses—something that had not been there when she had left. Her throat closed over when shepicked up the card that laid beside it. There was no address on it, but it hardly mattered to her.

My apologies for leaving without notice, My Lady. I was called away because of an emergency athome. Please accept this gift as my humble apology. Yours, Arthur. Weakly, Esther tottered to a chair and stared at the card with astonishment. “My Lady?” Wordlessly, Esther showed her the card, and Margaret read it with delight. “I knew it. See, now, youneedn’t worry.” Cradling the card, Esther nodded, “I am not worried for myself; I just don’t know how John will taketo me being drawn to a navy Captain instead of the sons of Dukes he keeps insisting that I meet.” “You’ll just have to find a way to convince His Grace,” Margaret replied. “I can try, but my brother is a stubborn man,” Esther said. And if he disapproves, I’ll have to find myway around him.

Chapter 3 Sitting in his late father’s study and sipping a glass of wine, Felton wondered if Lady Harewood hadseen the flowers he had sent. Last night, his fury for the pompous cad had simmered hotter when theDuke had not even graced his sister with a glance of acknowledgement. Incensed, Felton had pulled Rawden aside and told him why he had asked him to dance withCatherine and the current situation between her and the Duke. “Now, I just need to even the score. You are colleagues with him, aren’t you?” “Doesn’t the Duke know you?” Rawden asked anxiously, “You are her sister; shouldn’t he know ofyou or about you?” “I left for war two years before he met my sister,” Felton had replied. “Even if he knows who Iam, I know he had not seen any portrait of me because I have no patience to sit for such things. Idoubt he knows who I am. Just introduce me as Arthur Morgan, and I will take it from here.” It was there, on the sidelines, he had convened the plot on how to teach that Duke a lesson. Now, withEsther knowing him as Captain Morgan, he knew he had a limited time to seduce her and shame her,just as her brother had done to his sister. Lady Esther looked like an innocent—all wide-eyed and guileless, but he had seen that glint in hereye, one that told him she was everything but pure. From the awe on her face when he had mentioned France, Felton believed that she craved action and

excitement. And he had enough and more to give her when she decided to break all protocol and cometo him. Looking at the faded plaster on the walls, Felton knew he had to distance himself from his home soon.Luckily, his old apartment in Grosvenor Square once rented to supplement his family’s income, butnow uninhabited, was still available to him. He could not continue to live in his old home and risk thechance of Esther coming across Catherine. “Captain Arthur Morgan…” he snorted after taking a sip of the sweet Spanish wine, “Nice to meetyou.” He had to avoid places like White’s, Brook’s, and assembly rooms as well, so he would not run intothe Duke or stumble into someone who knows him from his former life. Standing, Felton tightened the tied of his banyan and carried the glass to his quarters. He could notdelay moving out to London and so set about packing his belongings. While folding his shirts, somethat he knew would be bursting at the seams if he tried to wear them, he dryly noted that he had to takean urgent trip to Bond Street for a new wardrobe. By a few hours to dawn, he had all set in his trunks and de-robed for bed, anticipating the horribledreams. I wonder what tonight’s rendition is—the burning in Moscow or the massacre in Vitoria? Slipping under the sheets, he tried to bring up the best moments overseas, the small stints of peace—but failed. Halfway through the night, the roar of cannons and the agonized cry of dying seamen joltedhim awake and kept him awake until past dawn.

Unable to rest, he went to his bathing room, dunked his hands into the cold water resting in theceramic basin, and splashed the icy liquid onto his face. Battling the images that still lingered behindhis eyes, he managed to dispel them and breathed out a sigh of relief. Grabbing a folded towel, he patted his face dry and went back to the room to tug the drapes open. Theweak light dropped on the stacked trunks, ready to be loaded in the carriage. He moved off to gather his clothing for the day while absolutely refusing to second-guess himselfabout seducing Lady Harewood. He called for water and by seven, was fully dressed and ready toleave. Hoping that his mother was up, Felton went to her quarters. She was usually up by this time, tellingthe kitchen staff what to have for the week’s meals, and then went on to see about her letters in herprivate drawing-room. Knocking on the door, he waited for her reply. “Enter, Felton,” she called. “Good morning, Mother,” he said while stepping in the room, “I’m sorry, but I think it’s best if I goback to London for a while.” She stopped in writing and looked at him with confusion, “Now? Why?” “It’s easier for me to reconnect with my old comrades from the war,” Felton lied.

Lady Dorothea placed her quill in the inkwell and stood, while wrapping her housecoat tighter aroundherself, “I understand, and besides, you were always a solitary soul. I can see how you would need tobe by yourself. All I ask is that you still help Catherine.” “I will forever help Catherine,” Felton vowed, “And she won’t have to worry about this Duke. I’llhandle it.” His mother embraced him, “I trust you, Felton. Now, before you go, make sure you say goodbye toCatherine.” *** The old apartment had not changed much,and he ran his fingers down the dark wooden wainscoting ofthe bed-chamber. He had already finished unpacking his clothing, and until he could hire a cook anda maid, he was going to fend for himself. Gladly, Grosvenor Square was near to eateries, so he grabbed his jacket, outer coat, and hat and leftto find one. The sky was slate gray,and while no snow fluttered, the air was icily biting. He passed afew shops and came upon an eatery with the strong aroma of coffee and baked bread. It did not take long for him to get seated and a warm cup of coffee and a plate heaped high withcodded eggs, bacon, and thick buttered toast was settled before him. What can I do to entice Esther to break the bonds of propriety?

There was only one place he knew where the classiest ladies left their gentility behind them, and thatwas the Pleasure Gardens of Vauxhall, but the Gardens were not open in Winter. As the idea came tohim, he shelved it for his coup-de-grace if, somehow, he was able to take her there.He had to startsomewhere, and Hyde Park was an excellent place to begin. Finishing and paying for his meal, Felton made his way to Piccadilly and towards Hatchards. Thebookshop smelled of cured leather, paper, and ink, and he meandered to the section of scandalousGothic romance books that he knew women loved to read. He was perusing the titles and came upon copies of The Castle of Otranto and The Progress ofRomance. He was perusing the rows when an assistant came to him, polishing a monocle as he came. “May I help you, Sir?” He asked. “Perhaps help you find a novel for your wife?” Felton’s brow cocked high, “Beg your pardon? I’m not married.” “My apologies,” the assistant replied, “Not many men linger in this section unless they are on anerrand from their wives.” “What is your newest and rarest acquisition?” Felton asked. “We have one of the first published and a signed copy of all five volumes of The Countercharm byMiss Cuthbertson,” the man replied. “The price is fifty pounds.” “Hold onto it,” Felton replied while not flinching about the veritable fortune that the book costed.“I’ll be back in a few days.”

“May I know your name, Sir?” “Arthur Morgan,” Felton replied, “Captain of the Navy. And yours?” A flash of awe ran over the man’s face, “Robert Krill, and y-yes, My Lord, I will have the book safefor you.” Nodding, Felton left the book store and hurried to the apartment, stopping only to buy someprovisions to keep him through the night and a newspaper. He would scan the advertisements the nextday to find a valet and a cook because he did not want any connection with his family. As soon as hispersona of Arthur Morgan disappeared, so would they. Getting back to the house, he locked up behind him and placed his food on the table, removed hiscoat, and stroked the fire alive. After retrieving a pad of paper and a quill pen, he sunk into anarmchair and began to plan because he had to act quickly. *** A week later, with his house filled with a cook, maid, a footman, a new wardrobe, and his plan fixedfor Esther in his mind, Felton sent a request to Lady Harewood for a visit; he felt sure that he wouldget a resounding acceptance. “Your paper, My Lord,” the footman said with a bow. “Thank you, Stevens,” Felton said while taking the folded paper.

He turned the pages slowly, noting the news coming out of the Crown was about the after-effects ofthe war. Most of the troops were out, but some were still stuck overseas, and his heart went out tothem. Napoleon was exiled on Elba, his private kingdom, leaving the monarchs in Europe to tidy upthe destruction he had left on the continent. Unbidden, images of soldiers dying beside him flickered over his eyes, and he closed the paper witha sigh. Rubbing his suddenly tired eyes, Felton called for more coffee, “As black as you can make it,Miss Robbins.” “Pardon me, My Lord,” the footman came back in with a card on a silver platter, “This was justreceived for you. It is from the Harewood house.” The card had been sent out barely an hour ago, and suddenly, his day grew brighter. “Thank you.” Taking the card, Felton opened it and smiled. Esther wrote that she was delighted to hear from himand thanked him, again, for the flowers. “I can come by this afternoon, precisely at one…perfect.” He would quickly ride home and get another stem of white roses from his mother’s hothouse andcarry it with him to meet Esther. He also needed to see how Catherine was doing and find out if shewas still agonizing over the foolish Lord. First, we’ll go to Hyde Park, then the book store, or whichever way it happens. I’m almost sureshe likes those novels, and after I buy her the book with my name inscribed in, I’ll buy her sweetsbefore taking her home. He stood and took the card to his bed-chamber to rest it on the table before assembling his all-black

suit. Plucking his pocket watch out, he looked at the time, noting that it was nearly ten o’clock, and hewondered why Esther had said to come precisely at one. If her bird-witted brother is away, even better for me. He dressed quickly and fixed his cravat with a single sapphire pin. He had enough time to get thatrose and get to the Lady’s house in time. After calling the carriage, he boarded and set off to hiscountry home. He hoped that his mother and sister would understand that he did not have time tolinger and kept an eye on the time during the journey. Arriving at the country home at nearly eleven, Felton ordered his carriage-man to linger at thedoorway and hurried in. Darting up the stairs, he went to his mother’s drawing-room and found herand Catherine there, drinking tea and nibbling crumpets. “Felton,” Lady Dorothea stood with delight written over her face. “What an unexpected visit.” Dropping a kiss on her cheek and embracing Catherine quickly, Felton said, “I cannot stay for toolong. Mother, I need another rose.” Her thin brows darted up, “You do. Hm, for what purpose, I wonder?” Rolling his eyes, Felton snorted, “No need for the theatrics, Mother. I do not have much time toexplain but be assured it is for a good reason. Now, will you please fetch it for me?” “Fine, fine,” Lady Dorothea wiped her hands and left the room.

Taking her chair, Felton asked, “How are you doing, Catherine? Please, do not tell me that you’restill love-sick over Ayles?” A strange mix of emotions crossed Catherine’s face, “I was sick with regret and grief for a while; Ithink I still am somehow, but…” her slim shoulders shrugged, “… c’est la vie, I suppose.” Reaching over, he grasped her hands, “Don’t fret about it, Catherine; I am sure you’ll see that you arebetter off without him as a husband. If he is so petty and thoughtless, he does not deserve a lady likeyou. I told you before if he cannot see how special you are, you do not need him.” A tremulous smile curved her lips, “I am trying to believe it, Felton, I am. Anyhow, I’m not spendingall my attention on him. The nice gentleman who danced with me at the ball, Lord Braemar, visitedme yesterday. He’s a sweet man.” Taken-aback by that revelation, Felton noted to thank Rawden for seeing Catherine. “That wonderful,Catherine. I am happy you’re not wasting your time and attention on Ayles.” “Well, here you go, Felton,” his mother said as she came in the room with a cut white rose, the basewrapped in a strip of cloth. “If you need more, you’ll have to wait until spring.” Hopping to his feet, Felton took the rose from her, “Thank you, Mother. I’ll see if I can come by nextSunday for dinner,” shooting a look over his shoulder, he added, “Take care of yourself, Catherine,and tell Hinds, thank you for me.” With a nod, Felton took the flower and went back to his waiting carriage. “To the Harewood home,my good man.”

Chapter 4 Dropping another dress on her bed, Esther glanced at the mounds of clothes on her bed with despair,“Nothing is right.” “I would differ, My Lady,” Margaret said while reaching for a dress. “This is wonderful, I think.” “It’s a strange shade of yellow,” Esther mourned, “And would clash with my hair. I do not have muchtime. Captain Morgan will be here in half-an-hour, and I am only dressed in my chemise.” While rummaging for a fitting gown, Margaret unearthed a rich maroon silk dress with the lace trimand seed pearls embroidered on the bodice. “This would be perfect, My Lady, and I think it willmatch if we thread the strand of seed pearls through your hair.” With an anxious look to the clock, Esther nodded, “I suppose it will do. Remind me to make anappointment with the modiste soon; I need a new wardrobe. Most of these gowns will be given awayas well.” Shaking out the gown, Margaret said, “Please.” Esther donned the dress with her maid’s help and stood still while Margaret did up the laces in theback. The bustier was cinched tightly, and Esther grimaced a little, but the reflection in the mirrorwas delightful. The square neck showed the delicate arch of her collarbones and the graceful curve ofher neck. Seated, Margaret fixed her hair into a lovely chignon with the glittering string of pearls threaded

through her hair in the beautiful up-do; Esther began to have some hope that the Captain would findher fetching. She dearly hoped to know more about him and his travels, and fortunately, John was outso he would not interrupt them. Titling her face for her maid to add some subtle cosmetic to under her eyes and the hollows of hercheeks, Esther wondered how she could tactfully ask him about the war. Only if he is agreeable to discussing his time there, that is. “There,” Margaret pulled away. “You are beautiful, My Lady.” Standing, Esther peered into the mirror and dared to hope that the Captain would see the same imageher maid was admiring. While reaching for a thick white shawl, a maid came and announced thatCaptain Morgan had arrived. With her heart solidly lodged in her throat, Esther said, “Please show him to the main drawing-room.” With a courtesy, the maid left, but Esther faltered in her step. Her legs felt weak, and she had to holdonto the wall for a moment. Margaret rested her hand on Esther’s shoulder, “You have nothing toworry about, My Lady.” Dredging up her courage, Esther nodded, “I won’t worry.” With Margaret with her, and holding a bated breath, Esther entered the room to see him standing at thetall bow windows. He was staring out into the barren garden beyond, and his rigid, uncomfortable-looking pose twisted a pang of sympathy in her breast. Contrasted against the bright sky, his dark-clad

form looked ... alone. As if he carried the weight of the world upon his broad shoulders like poorAtlas. But what trapped her gaze was the nonchalant hand stuck in the pocket of his buff trousers and theother, dangling to the side and holding the stem of another white rose. Expelling the trapped breath, she walked further into the large, high-ceilinged chamber and paddedover the thick Aubusson rug towards him. The room had warm mahogany woodwork; cream, paddedchairs and matching couches placed around a coffee table. “Captain Morgan,” she said breathily, “Wonderful to see you again.” He turned, and his expression lightened, “You have a lovely home, My Lady.” “Thank you,” she gestured to the couch, “Please, sit.” Before he did, he handed her the rose, “It might be the queen of flowers, but it pales in comparison toyou.” A healthy blush heated her face while taking the flower, “That’s very kind of you to say.” His dark lashes hid his gaze, “It’s not a hardship, nor is it flattery. I told you that I am prone to bevery blunt.” “I know, My Lord,” she replied while fingering the rose on her lap. “And again, I appreciate your

honesty.” “Miss—?” He nodded to Margaret. “Smith, My Lord,” Margaret said as she went off to take a discreet seat. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Smith,” Captain Morgan looked around, “Is His Grace home?” “No,” Esther replied, “He took Mother out to Bond Street for a shopping trip. And she is wont to takea long time doing so,” her eyes dipped to her lap, “…We’ll be alone for a while.” The Captain crossed his legs, and a smile curved one corner of his lips, “I can see the questions inyour eyes that you are barely holding back, My Lady. Please, ask me.” “You said that you travelled four places other than France,” Esther rushed, “Where were they?” “Spain, Austria, Russia, and Africa , specifically the Cape of Good Hope where we had capturedfrom the Dutch,” the Captain replied as his head canted to the side. “Do you have an interest intravelling, My Lady?” “I find it fascinating,” Esther replied, shyly. “I haven’t travelled further than Cornwall, but back atMiss Strathgate’s School for Girls, a few of my friends travelled, one went to America once and afew to the West Indies. One told me that she had gone to India to wed a prince, but that one I doubt.” “I would doubt that as well,” he snorted.

Twirling the rose on her lap, Esther asked, “Which one of those places made a mark on you? I mean—was anywhere special?” His eyes dimmed, and a flash of—pain?—went across his face. She was feeling aghast that herinnocent question had drawn up a horrible memory, and she rushed to apologize. “I am sorry. I neverwanted to force you to think of any terrible—” “No, no,” he shook his head and gave her a forgiving smile, “It’s perfectly fine. The place thattouched my heart the most was this village outside of Austerlitz. There was a fountain there, madefrom white marble and surrounded by cobblestones with colours of the rainbow. His gaze drifted away. “The locals swore that the spirit of Virgin Mary had touched the waterdecades ago and whoever drank of it would find their true love. The children from the town wouldplay there, drop coins in the water, and have their sacred festivals there. They would place candlesaround it, and the light would cast over the stone. It was the prettiest sight you would ever see. I willnever forget it.” Were you ever in love? Had you drunk the water? “Is it still there?” Esther asked, noting the deep wistfulness in his voice. “I would hope so,” he said, seemingly shaking himself out of his nostalgia, “It was away from the siteof the war, and I hope it is still standing.” Turning to Margaret, Esther asked, “Would you send for some refreshments, Miss Smith? Perhapssome of that plum cake—”

“Pardon me,” Captain Morgan interrupted. “I apologize for cutting you off, but I was hoping wewould take a ride to London. Forgive me for assuming, but I had a feeling that you are a book lover.” Her eyes widened, and happiness soared in her heart, “Oh, yes, please. I have not been to Hatchardsin months.” Ethereal blue-silver glinted with pleasure, “We’re agreed, then?” “Very much so,” Esther stood, “If you would excuse us, I have to don my coat. Please meet us in thefoyer?” Captain Morgan stood and bowed, “I’ll be there.” With a hurried curtsy, Esther hurried out to her rooms with Margaret in tow with her. “Isn’t thiswonderful, Margaret!” “It is,” her maid said as she went to Esther’s wardrobe. After Esther rested the rose on the desk, sheturned to find Margaret holding a coat and a matching hat for her to wear. “Please,” Margaret gestured. While Esther dressed and fixed her hat, Margaret fetched Esther’s half-boots and helped her changeher silk slippers. When her mistress was ready, only then did Margaret draw on her stately darkpelisse.

Grasping her reticule, Esther checked if she had her sack of coins, handkerchief, calling cards, andher bottle of salts. Satisfied, Esther donned her gloves and took another look in the mirror. “Shall we go, My Lady?” Margaret asked quietly. “Yes, yes,” Esther said, but then stopped and went to her writing desk and scribbled out a quick noteto her mother and brother. “There, we shall go now.” Captain Morgan’s back was turned to her and he was speaking to a footman. She did her best todescend the staircase gracefully and not look too eager, but at the last two steps—tripped on the tailsof her dress. Before the cry could leave her mouth, firm arms encased her. Esther’s face, pressed intoCaptain Morgan’s chest, burned with mortification. He laughed but murmured into her ear, “I did not think you would be falling for me so quickly.” Her embarrassment began to peter away but when the Captain gently lifted her and placed her on theground, her heart began beating out of rhythm. With her face aflame, Esther fixed her hat to stopherself from looking at him. “Thank you, My Lord.” “My pleasure,” Captain Morgan bowed, “Shall we go?” Daring to look at him, she said, “Yes, please.” Leaving the house, he ushered her and Margaret into the waiting carriage and joined them last while

closing the door behind him.“May I ask, what sort of books do you read?” “I prefer books with a love story, a touch of mystery, magic, and intrigue. I am not particular to tragicstories, nor horror,” Esther replied. “I do like some humour when I can find it, but that’s rare.” Captain Morgan extended a long leg, “I believe we can find the perfect book for you.” Something in his tone sparked a hint of interest, and suspicion in Esther’s mind, “Could it be thatyou’ve found the book already?” “I might have,” he smirked, “You’ll have to find out for yourself, won’t you?” Plucking out her fan, Esther teased, “You are incorrigible, good sir.” “I don’t believe I have ever been called that before,” he replied, “On the scale of all the names, Ibelieve I will treasure that one the most.” Fanning slowly, Ether said, “I am afraid to ask what the worst is.” “And you should be,” he replied. “Let’s leave it as it is not fitting for a lady’s ears or sensibilities.” Blinking, Esther fluttered the fan, “Oh my.”

His brow ticked up, “Navy lads are not the most tactful men, My Lady.” The carriage cantered to a stop and with a quick look out the window, Captain Morgan smiled.“We’re here.” He alighted first, helped Esther out after him, and then Margaret. With glee, Esther waited for him toopen the door and stepped into a lovely scene of books lining the walls. A good number of Lords andLadies meandered through the stalls. “My Lady,” he offered his arm, and with a soft blush, Esther took it. While they walked, it was apparent that Captain Morgan was different from the Lords around. Evenwithout the blue of Navy uniform, his striking, masculine beauty and proud demeanour drew attention,particularly of the feminine nature. Esther saw more than one lady in the book-store aim an appreciatelook to him beneath half-lowered lashes and secret smiles. She delicately turned a blind eye to them. “Are you an academic, My Lord?” Esther asked. “I wouldn’t say I rank as one,” Captain Morgan replied. “My Latin teacher was one to threaten helland damnation upon me if I did not conjure the verbs right. I was more drawn to the physical; I prizedfencing over calculus and equestrian over philosophy. Not to say my education is sub-par…” he heldher gaze, “…Instead of an intellectual, I am a tactile man, My Lady.” They were so close that she could see the ethereal knit of colour in his eyes shift from blue to silver,and under his gaze, heat, like warmed oil, melted her sensibilities.

“I promised you that I would tell you the traits I prize in a man, didn’t I,” Esther replied, “Honestly isthe first, and you have shown me that. Thank you.” Bowing his head, he led her to the rows, “Pick out whatever you like, and if it tops what I havealready picked out, I’ll purchase it for you, or both, if you would like.” Taking her time, Esther meandered her way through the shelves, picking out a few but placing themback. Passing by rows upon rows, she found herself nearly at the back of the store where the mostrisqué novels lay. Captain Morgan plucked out a book and his left brow cocked. “My, my,” he murmured. “What is it?” Esther asked the gasped when he spun the spine to her. The Crimes of Love by theMarquis de Sade. Good heavens.” “Precisely,” he said while replacing the book. “Not at all the sort of book a young woman of goodbreeding should read.” A strange squeak left her lips and her hand clamped over her mouth, but it still drew the Captain'sattention. His hand slowly retracted from the shelf and a sly smile curved his lips. Dropping his tonelow, he asked. “Or mayhap not?” Looking over her shoulder for her maid, Esther felt relief that Margaret was away from her, andstaring studiously at a row of Phoenician Numerical Texts. Turning back to Captain Morgan, she said,“I have not the faintest inkling of what—”

His disbelieving stare stopped her in the middle of the lie, “…I cannot dare. Only fast and looseladies would dare to read such a notoriously wicked book.” “Hm,” Captain Morgan looked contemplative, “Is that so.” Attempting to change the mood—and to dispel the warm flashes under her skin—Esther said, “I havenot found one thing to capture my interest. Perhaps we will have to go with your choice.” A sly look had his eyes lowering, but instead of voicing the emotion dancing in those orbs, he onlyextended his arm. Walking to the front desk Captain Morgan asked for a Mister Krill. When the man came with the book, her breath hitched at the title, The Countercharm by the author ofRomance of the Pyrenees, a book she knew well. Her hand rested on her chest in profoundamazement; how is it that this man knew her so well without knowing her much at all? “Here it is,” Captain Morgan said, while taking the book, “Is it to your liking?” “More than,” Esther replied, “I have read its predecessors, Romance of the Pyrenees, and Forest ofMontalbano. Your judgment, My Lord, is uncanny.” “Pleased to hear that,” he nodded then turned back to the salesman. Her eyes dipped to the banknotes he was signing, and her heart nearly plummeted—fifty pounds! Dearlord. That was a fortune to be spent—on her!

Turning away, Esther tried to rationalize with the emotions in her heart but soon found that logic andfeelings do not mix. She fiddled with her gloves while Margaret came to her side. “Are you all right,My Lady?” “No,” Esther replied shortly just before Captain Morgan came back with the book wrapped in paper. “I think we are finished here,” Captain Morgan, “But if you’re not in a hurry, perhaps two morestops?” Fixing her hat, Esther said, “I am not in a hurry.” “Good,” Captain Morgan said while extending his arm. They walked out to the carriage and he helped her in. For a bereft moment, Esther wished their gloveswere not between them as she wanted to feel his touch. After she was seated and Margaret joined, theCaptain said, “I’ll only be a moment.” He strode back into the bookshop while Esther looked at the parcel on her lap. Her gloved fingerstraced over the packaging, and she kept quiet. Margaret held her silence as well until the Captaincame back with another book wrapped in paper. Another book? Please do not tell me he had spent another fifty pounds on this one as well. “Here,” he said graciously, “It’s another novel I think you will like.”

Taking it, Esther smiled, “Thank you, what is the title, if you don’t mind.” Again, a knowing look came over his feature, “You trusted me with the first; all I ask is that you trustme with this one as well.” A bit surprised—but dearly titillated by the edge of suspense—Esther nodded. “I certainly will.Where next, My Lord?”

Chapter 5 The intoxicating scent of candied apples and roasted nuts brought on a sudden sugar craving in Esther.But then— looking at Captain Morgan—she had to stifle a giggle. All around them were delicatepieces of china, vases, saucers, and tiny delicate cups that she was sure would be crushed under hisfist. He looks like a bull in a china shop. A plump woman was bustling behind the large wooden counter, fixing jars filled with syrupy cuts offruit, laying out pans of sugar-dusted sweets, delicate cakes, and other sugary delicacies. Captain Morgan doffed his hat. “Good afternoon ma’am.” She smiled, “And you too, My Lord. How can I ‘elp you and the lovely missus?” Red flamed Esther’s face, but Captain Morgan looked smug. Instead of him correcting the lady, heasked, “Mrs. Holland, I take it? I’ve been told that you make the best lemon drops in London.” “Perhaps,” the woman replied, “But it all depends on yer liking.” “‘Tis not me,” Captain Morgan stepped away and rested a hand on the middle of her back, “Goahead, darling. Choose which you’d like.”

Internally flabbergasted, Esther managed to ask for the same lemon drops and a slice of MadeiraCake. Mrs. Holland sliced a portion of the cake before setting it before Esther, “Here you go, MyLady, I ‘ave to get the tin of sweets from the back.” While the woman left, Esther sampled the rich wine-filled cake and moaned under her breath. “It’sexquisite.” His hand dropped lower on her back, “I’m glad you like it, but for my sake of mind, don’t make thatsound again.” The saucer in her hand nearly dropped, but Esther managed to place the plate on the table. Never hadshe had such blatant flirting—but she loved it. Captain Morgan had proved that he was not subtle inanything; how else could she expect him to go about showing his intentions. Mrs. Holland bustled back in the room with a tin in her hands, “Here you go, My Lady. How do youfind the cake?” “Sumptuous,” Esther replied. “It melts in one’s mouth and is so potent. Thank you.” “Would you like a cake, My Lady?” Mrs. Holland asked. “I think—” Esther paused then and decided that two could play the game of make-belief. “—My Lordneeds it more than I. He has an incomparable love for sweets and wine. Isn’t that right, My Lord.” Surprise marked the Captain’s face, but he rebounded quickly, “I suppose it is. You know me so well,dear; one box, Mrs. Holland,” and when the woman disappeared into the back, to Esther, he tackedon, “well played.”

When the box was handed and the sums of money paid, they left the sweetshop to the carriage.Captain Morgan plucked out his timepiece, “Oh my, it's nearly four. I should return you home.” Unwilling to go home so quickly, Esther asked, “Hadn’t you said there would be two more stops?” “I had fancied a ride through Hyde Park, but that can be done another time,” Captain Morgan replied,“Today was hardly lacking, My Lady. I’ve enjoyed your company immensely.” “As have I,” Esther smiled, “You’re truly an unconventional one, My Lord.” “Thank you, and you are an incomparable lady,” the Captain stated. “I’m not a man who will writesonnets or odes to your beauty, for a lot of my sentimentalities were lost during the years I sawnothing but carnage. But, have confidence in me when I say that you are the most fetching lady I haveever seen.” Her cheeks warmed, “Even when I am red as a fireplace?” “Perhaps, more so,” he stated. “You’re enchantingly red as a fireplace.” The carriage was entering the street to her townhouse and soon came to the carriage gate. With aquick flattering of his lips—which Esther hoped meant that he was not ready for the outing to end soquickly as she did—he stepped out of the carriage and helped her to her feet. After doing the same toMargaret, he escorted them to the door.

“May I call on you again?” he asked. “Hyde Park in the winter is something I am told is a vision to be seen,” Esther smiled, her wordsgiving implied permission for him to call on her. Bowing, Captain Morgan said. “Have a wonderful evening, ladies.” A footman held the door open for them to enter, but Esther lingered on the stoop to watch the man whohad utterly enchanted her, leave. Her actions were utterly unladylike, but she did not want to step inyet. When the carriage drove off, only then did she go inside. Carrying her gifts as if they were a chest of gold to her chambers, Esther rested them on the table.Margaret closed the door and removed her hat, “I must say, My Lady, I am pleased to see yousmiling.” Removing her gloves, Esther replied, “And it is from that uncommon man. Isn’t Captain Morgandelightful?” “May I speak freely, My Lady?” Margaret asked while going to help Esther remove her coat. “Yes, of course,” Esther said while undoing the buttons of her coat. “I think His Lordship is concerning,” Margaret said, “That game he played in the confectionery, aboutyou being his wife, is troubling to me.”

Laughing, Esther said, “I’m sure that was all it was, Margaret, a game. He told me that his sense ofhumour is not conventional, and neither is he. I find that I like him that way.” Taking the coat and hat to hang them to dry, Margaret added, “I only say thus because I care for you,My Lady. I would not like to see you hurt.” “I don’t think I will,” Esther went to remove her boots. “He is an honourable man, and I am surenothing will go wrong. I think I will like a warm bath, Margaret. Please arrange for one.” “Yes, My Lady,” Margaret curtsied and left the room. When Margaret left, Esther donned her thick dressing robe and went to unwrap The Countercharmand tried to smile at the book. What stopped her, was that the Captain had spent a fortune on a book. Itwas undoubtedly the most precious gift she had been given. She set the book back on the table, then went to take the other wrapped book, but halted. Her handhung over the book before she drew it away—Margaret was soon to come with her bathwater andthen, she was going to have supper. It can wait… *** Tugging her thick woollen wrapper around herself, Esther trimmed her bedside lamp and took thewrapped book to her bed. Hours before, only her mother had come home and had gone straight to abath, a meal, and her bed.

What if this is Marquis de Sade’s book? Would he dare give me such a naughty novel? With her privacy, Esther slowly unwrapped the book with bated breath and when it was revealed toher, she stared at the title. It was from an author she did not know about, but the title wasintriguing,The Lost Love of Lady Madeline. Opening it, she read,‘A section of her fragile heart splintered off under Lady Madeline Burnsbreastbone. Sucking in a ragged breath, she fought the searingpain radiating in her heart, but hereyes could not stray from Nathaniel—the love of her life, as he married another. She bit her lowerlip hard to still its quivering and reminded herself; no tears, absolutely none. Enthralled, Esther read until her eyes grew tired, but she flipped a few pages around and her eyeslatched on a passage. Instantly—every fatigue fled from her. With her legs crossed, and her hands resting on her lap, Madeline said, in a trembling voice,“Why are you tormenting me thus? You were the one who went off and married, forcing me towatch my hope shatter before my eyes and my light of my life darken to nothing.” “Because I was wrong,” Nathaniel said, “I looked abroad for something I had right in front of me.I love you, Maddy. I just didn’t have enough sense to see it.” Anger and hopelessness ripped Madeline’s soul in two and she made to dart from her seat to rushof the room—except he stopped her. “Unhand me!” She cried. Instead, he bent his head, grasped her chin, and laid his lips on hers, begging entrance. When thebattle in her mind raged against it, her heart availed herself to him and she leaned upward for himto deepen the kiss. Soon his mouth left to chart another course, one that dropped kisses across her

jaw, and down her neck and collarbones. Spinning to another page, she read, lips parted, eyes heavy-lidded, Nathaniel laid her against hisdesk, his cock swelling as he took in the sensual difference between her snowy skin and the darkwood underneath her. Slamming the book closed, she pressed a hand to her heart—the Captain had bought her eroticism.Not the horrible, unspeakable sort of Marquis de Sade, but a book still tantalizing to the senses. Daring to open it again, she read; fretfully, Madeline’s lungs battled for air as Nathaniel licked awet, slick trail between her heaving breasts and when his warm lips closed around one throbbingnipple, a ragged cry escaped from her throat. “I love your full breasts, Madeline,” Nathaniel’s voice was a groan as he licked a taut peak, thenblew softly on the pebbled flesh, “They’re so sweet…but there is another place I would like to kiss.A source of honey waits for me, just below your belly-button.” Shutting the book another time, Esther felt her heart race—dear gods, did men kiss…there? Hurrying, she shoved the book in her night table's drawer, and turned away from it, telling herself itwas time to sleep—but rest did not come so easily. Her mind kept going back and forth, from theCaptain to the book. Mayhap, I should call him Arthur now? But, Captain, has so much danger and power to it…. She sighed in the pillow knowing that she had to tell her Mother about Captain Morgan come morning—but it felt so much titillating to keep him, keep Arthur, as a secret. Her fingers danced over her lips

as she wondered how it would feel to kiss Arthur. Would he take time to seduce her, to drop kisses over her face, whisper sweet words into her ear, andslowly get her to drop her resistance? The problem was…she had never kissed a man before and shedid not want to look like a fool doing it. Her hand inched back to the drawer and pulled out the bookagain. He gave me this book for a reason, mayhap this is what he is trying to tell me what our intimacywould be like. Instead of finding a passage about kissing, she went back to the place when Nathaniel was speaking ofa wicked kiss: “Nate…” He spread her thighs wide, “Your fountain is flowing, my dear. I crave your ambrosia.” Madeline’s bashfulness faded in a puff of smoke with the heat of his kiss between her legs. As helicked into her secret cove, Madeline shivered helplessly. His tongue passed over her wetness withbold swipes, streaking passion through her body. His lips sought higher, finding, and possessingher core, filling her body with exquisite sensation. She squirmed as his erotic touches stoked herdesire, and with a fierce suction, pure bliss blazed through her. Esther clamped her legs tight as the tips of her breasts budded, and, her core, her secret placebetween her legs grew wet and wanting. An image of the Captain holding her legs aloft and his headsinking between them jolted her body as if a bolt of lightning had passed through her.

She gripped the novel with trembling hands. “…I am in trouble.”

Chapter 6 It was past midnight, Felton knew it but, again, the nightmares had robbed sleep from him. Perched ina chair at the window, with a bottle of wine in his hand, he stared out into the darkness beyond. Theouting with Esther had gone well, but he still wondered what had possessed him to pretend that shewas his wife in the sweetshop. “She played along perfectly though,” he murmured. He wondered if she had opened the second book yet and discovered it to be eroticism. He had comeacross it once; a lady he had courted had been addicted to that novel. He had not known why until hehad bought a copy of it himself and read it. Perhaps it would give her ideas, birth secret desires… give her the bravery to experiment. He had nothidden his admiration for her body, so, now, if she did read it, and held those images in her head, theseduction would begin. Perhaps she envisioned me as Nathaniel, perched between her slender legs and suckling at herbreast. A touch here and there, a compliment, and even find a way to steal a kiss. He would egg her on, plantimages in her head, build the fantasy of romance, draw out the wanton lustful, creature he knew shetruly was and get her to trust him. Then…ruin her. A scruple of shame chilled his heart that he was going to do something as cruel as that to the lady but,then again, it was fair play.

No, fair play would be to get Esther to love me, but then discard her as callously as her brotherdid to my sister. Toggling back between his integrity and the need for revenge, Felton set the wine aside. If Estherwere ruined, she would never get a husband, while on the other hand, Catherine would have all thechances in the world to marry. It would be poetic justice to just have her believe there was more tothe connection they had and then, just break it. Unable to decide, Felton went back to bed and tried to reason with himself, to do just enough to makethe cruel family know how it feels to play with someone’s heart. He drifted off to another dream, only this time, instead of the flash of swords and the explosions ofcannons, he was in a room with Esther, but she did not seem to know he was there. Her back turned tohim and slowly, she did away with her wrapper, tossing it to the ground. A few moments later, she loosened the strings of her night rail and the neck of it sagged over herback. Reaching up, she moved her dark hair from the back of her neck and the dress bared herflawless white skin. By teasing increments, the night rail slipped down until the garment pooled at herfeet. With her delicate curves and flawless skin revealed, she was like a seductive water nymphrising from a spring. She twisted a little and a glimpse of plump breast with an enticing dark nipple had his mouth wateringfor a taste. He could wager his wealth that her breast, would fit perfectly in his palm. If he tugged herclose, his other hand would cup perfectly over her pert bottom. But while he reached for her…she faded away. Felton slowly opened his eyes to strong sunlight and a heart laced through with conflict. He was going

to see Esther that evening and wondered if he should send word and cancel the drive to Hyde Park,but Esther seemed to be looking forward to it, and, possibly, he would be able to decide whether ornot to ruin her when he saw her again. He slipped out of bed and went to wash his face; that dream had rattled him, did he truly desireEsther, intimately? Wrapped in his thick banyan, Felton went to his small dining room and felt pleased that the morningpaper had been left. While shaking it out, he skipped over the news about France and others, knowingthat nothing good would be coming from them. What did catch his attention was the section in the gossip page from Jane Hill. As the ashes settle anduniversal order resets itself in the wake of the scandal from Lady Rushford’s ball last spring, thishumble spectator wonders why Dame Nottingham turned a blind eye to Lord Mercer’s ignobleintention for her daughter, who was rumoured to be caught, ‘in flagrante delicto’, with such aLord. Both parties, however, have summarily denied the allegations but, can we all pretend not to noticethat the Lady had not left her house in six months? Can there be a tiny Baby Mercer on the way?The humble citizen can only wonder. Either way, the questions abound, and no one is there toexplain them, but no one can deny, there might be a fallen Lady, an unashamed Lord, and anillegitimate child amongst us. His mind flashed back to when his mother had mentioned this lady, the worst gossip in London, andgritted his teeth hard enough that it was a miracle he was not swallowing dust. He dropped the paper in disgust, and he rubbed his eye; what if this scandalmonger caught on to hisand Esther’s dealings and blared it out to the world?

“Good Morning, My Lord,” his maid greeted. “May I get you anything?” “A cup of coffee,” he replied. “And make it blacker than the Earl of Hell’s waistcoat, please.” “Yes, My Lord,” she dipped out a curtsy and left for the kitchens. He plucked the paper up again and looked over the words from this woman. If this busybody gossipgot a hold of his and Esther’s situation, after the girl was ruined, Esther would be destroyed twice.She would never be able to show her face in society again. That is if I decide to ruin her. “Your coffee, My Lord,” the maid came in and rested the cup and saucer before him. “Cook isfinishing breakfast, My Lord. Please ring when you are ready for it.” “Thank you,” Felton replied. Alone again, he finished his coffee and rifled through the paper again. There were announcements ofpublic plays, musicals at Almacks, and open balls. Lastly, there was a private masquerade BoxingDay ball at Vauxhall, complete with fireworks and acrobats and the Lord who was hosting it, was onehe knew. His interest was piqued; could he somehow lure Esther away from her family, as Christmas Day andthe days after it were days for family celebrations. If he truly just needed to shame her, a seduction atthe pleasure gardens was the best place for it.

But again…ruination or not. While he made up the request for admission to the ball, his indecision kept with him all through theday to the afternoon when he left for the Harewood house. The sun was out, a pale silver disk, butwas warm enough to keep the snow clouds away. Descending from the vehicle, he went to the doorand greeted the footman. Miss Smith came down with a tempered smile, “Good afternoon, My Lord. Lady Harewood will bedown shortly.” He found a curious undertone in her voice but dismissed it; he was still conflicted about if he shouldruin Esther or not. When he spotted her coming down the stairs in a full grey ensemble ,he decidedthat just shaming her would do. His lips flattened a little as by now, he was sure he would have met the Duke or at least her mother.Why wasn’t he meeting either? “My Lord?” Esther asked her delicate brow knitting. “Is something amiss?” “Not…particularly,” he said but felt it prudent to mention his concern. “But is your family awayagain? Shouldn’t I have met them by now?” Esther's expression dimmed, “Mother and John are out again, but if you want to meet them, theywould be back this evening.” The undertone of her words told him that she did not want him to meet her family—and Felton did not

have an issue with that. He did not want to get too entangled with the matriarch and the Duke becausehe knew his intention for Esther was not a good one. But they wronged Catherine; they humiliated her. ‘Tis my duty to show them the error of theirways. “Very well,” Felton said and extended his arm. He led her and Miss Smith to the carriage and into the vehicle before joining them. Managing toschool his face into one of nonchalance, he asked, “How was your evening? Did you enjoy the gifts?” Instantly, her face went warm and he knew she had read some of the erotic novel. Which part did sheread, he wondered, the kissing under the stars or the lovemaking in Nathaniel’s bed? Perhaps thewicked kiss the Lord had given Madeline with her legs around his ears? “There were all delightful, My Lord,” Esther said, “Thank you. May I ask, why did you not tell theconfectioner that I was not your wife?” Felton shrugged a little, “It would have taken more explanation than I had been in the mood to give. Itwas just easier for her to take it that we were wed. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable; pleasebelieve me, that was certainly not my intention.” Her colour petered out of her face, and Esther looked pleased, “I assumed it was all in jest.” Folding his arms, Felton said, “I—” he paused. “—The war changed me, My Lady. When I left, I wasyoung and unwise, I never expected to see what I did see. I do not want to abuse your sensibilities,but war stripped me of a lot of things. At my darkest moments, I believed all hope for a normal life,

for peace, marriage, and even hope and love were past my reach. My sense of humour changed aswell. I truly did not mean any harm in that jest.” Esther reached over and grasped his hands, “I am so deeply sorry that you lost so much to make usgain even more.” Oddly touched, Felton lightly squeezed her hand, “Thank you.” “So,” her expression cleared, “How did you find the cake?” “Truthfully, I have not touched it yet,” Felton replied while holding her eyes, “It seemed to be thekind of lovely confectionery that calls for company; which, sadly, I don’t have.” Concern marked her wide eyes, “Surely not!” “I am a solitary creature, My Lady,” Felton replied wryly. “Or perhaps you haven’t noticed.” “Before you left,” Esther said, “Did you not have friends?” “Not much,” Felton replied while taking a glance out the window to see that they had arrived in thepark. “And those I did have, drifted away.” “Are you a part of White’s? Brooks?” Esther pressed. “Surely other Lords would understand who youare and recognize you for it?”

Rubbing the middle of his palm, Felton said, “I despise those places. It's just idle chit-chat andgambling. I hate the smell of cigars and I believe that those clubs brew adultery because of theinfluence of single men, rakehells, who brag about their loose women. I do not keep company withmen who break their vows.” Admiration lit Esther’s face, “That is another attribute I respect, I prize loyalty.” Instead of replying immediately, Felton glanced out the window and noted that they were near a pond.Reaching up quickly, he rapped on the roof and the carriage slowed to a stop. Facing Esther, heasked, “Would you walk with me for a moment?” Without hesitation, Esther consented. With her arm in his and Miss Smith trailing behind, he led her to the edge of the water. The pond hadnot frozen over which was rare to see, but he bet by the dead of winter it would become a block ofice. The rushes waved with the soft breeze and a few birds flew overhead. While Felton was trying to translate his thoughts to words, the tranquil silence was broken by thesplash of a lone duck, weaving through the weeds. “That is strange,” Esther said, “Why is it out of its nest?” “I believe it’s a mother,” Felton replied, after a quick examination of the animal, “Look how it isducking here and there? It is searching for food, probably for its young who are trying to survive in ahostile environment…”

His memory flitted back to times when they were in the middle of an ocean with little but old breadand his wits to survive, and on land, in the middle of enemy territory and fearing every second of hislife. “…A feeling I know all too well,” Felton added wanly. Esther’s hand closed around his and he cocked his head to look at her, “I hope you’re not being sorryfor me, My Lady?” “Esther,” she corrected softly. “Please call me, Esther.” “I would love to if you would call me Arthur,” Felton replied while covering her hand with his andstroking his fingers over the back of her hand. “Do you think you’ll be called back into the service?” Esther asked carefully. Stifling a shiver of horror, Felton shook his head, “No, I’m retired. They cannot come for me, even ifthey want to,” turning, he held her close, “shall we resume our ride?” “Yes, please,” Esther gave him a pitying look that curdled something in his stomach. Going back to the carriage, they went in and Felton closed the door. With a quick rap to the roof, thevehicle went off again. “My Lord, erm, Arthur. Now that you are retired, what do you think you willdo from now on?”

“I am not thinking that far ahead; I just want to dispel the nightmares and—” his lips clamped shut atthe unwitting admission. Esther had gone pale and her mouth slipped open in shock. “—andeventually, find employment that won’t bring back the worst of my memories.” Esther was clutching her skirts in worry, “You don’t sleep.” With a grimace, Felton admitted, “Barely. I have been told balms and tinctures like laudanum mighthelp, but I am not going to dull my judgment and get my body dependent on a substance that will failone day. Please do not fret about it, I’ll be fine.” “I—” Esther paused, “Is there anything I can do?” “Thank you for offering,” Felton dipped his head. “And yes, there is something; if we can move onfrom this conversation, I would be grateful.” Plucking at her skirts, Esther said, “The festive month is soon upon us. Do you have plans forChristmas, Arthur?” “Sadly, no,” Felton shook his head. Brightening, Esther added, “Then you can attend my family’s ball and dinner. We have one everyChristmastide. The house is filled with fragrant yule logs, wine, happiness, and mistletoe branches.Please say you will attend?” I have another idea; we will go to Vauxhall, but how will I convince you to leave your family andcelebrate with me—privately?

“Thank you for the invitation,” Felton said, “It sounds wonderful.”As the carriage left Hyde Park, headded, “Shall I treat you two to some hot chocolate? There is a delightful eatery I’ve found onMayfair.” *** Peeling his coat off while stepping into his mother’s home, Felton castigated himself for sharing asecret with Esther that not even his mother knew. After he had treated the women to hot chocolate andcake, he had carried them home and made for his mother’s home. He needed a diversion before hewent home, and, there, in the quiet, he would be forced to think about the day. He usually had a tight rein on his personal affairs, so he was confused about how that secret hadslipped from his lips. Mayhap it is not a bad thing—it might garner some sympathy from her as well. “Good evening, My Lord,” a footman bowed. Nodding tersely, and thanking him, Felton went to find his mother—but found Catherine and Rawdeninstead in a drawing-room. His eyebrows met his hairline in surprise at Rawden’s hand resting overCatherine’s. “Pardon me,” he said. “What do we have here?”

Catherine yanked her hand away and her face went pink as she darted up. “Felton, w-what asurprise.” “I should say so as well.” Felton was taken-aback; he had never seen Catherine flustered before andhis eyes flicked to Rawden. “Good afternoon, Hinds. What brings you by?” “A friendly visit,” Rawden replied, “Lady Gale was a delightful partner at Lady’s Ashford’s ball,and I’ve come to value her wit and insight.” Knowing that Catherine could be a bit flippant, Felton wondered what discussion they were havingwhere his sister would be insightful. “You don’t say. Well, I won’t interrupt, but where’s Mother,Catherine?” “I believe she is in her sun room, Felton,” Catherine replied while resting a hand on his arm,“Howare you faring though?” His smile was tight, “Fairly well. I will speak to you when I am finished with Mother. Excuse me.” With a nod to the three, as there was a maid in the room, he left to find his mother. He found herkneeling on a pillow as she trimmed her precious roses. “Afternoon Mother,” he greeted. She looked up, “Felton, dear, how are you? You are not here for another one of my roses, are you?” Laughing, Felton shook his head, “No, Mother, I’m not. Your precious plants can rest without worry.I’m here to see how you are doing. Are you aware of Lord Camden, I assume, visiting, or is it,courting, Catherine?”

“Oh, I do not believe it has gotten to that point yet,” Lady Dorothea stood, then gave him a pointedlook. “But if it does, at least I know who my daughter’s suitor is. I wish I could say the same foryou?” “It is not to that point, Mother,” Felton replied. “It is too early to tell.” “I would still like to meet this lady,” his mother said plainly, “when it does come to that point, pleasebring her around.” “Well, I see all is right with you. I best take my leave,”looking around, before he spun on his heel,Felton added, “have a good evening.” He was nearly at the door, when his mother called at his back, “Felton, dear, whatever you are doingwith this lady - and I hope it is a lady because my roses shall not be gifted to trollops - make sure it’sof good standing, will you?” Fortunately, his back was turned to her, so she did not see his fleeting wince. “Why would you thinkotherwise?” “For the same reason I just stated; I have not seen this lady,” his mother reiterated. “Before you left,you have courted twice and on the second outing, you brought the young lady here to meet me. Iassumed you would be following that tradition.” His fist clenched a little at his side, “I’ve changed, Mother. I’m not one to leap before I look anymore.”

“Oh, Felton,” his mother’s disappointment was palpable. “Something good will happen for you, I feelit.” Twisting to look over his shoulder, Felton gave her a bare smile, “Me too, Mother.” With a nod, he left the sun room and back to say his farewells to his sister. He approached thedrawing-room, but only popped his head in. To his surprise, Catherine and Rawden were playingcards. “I’m off, Catherine, and Hinds, be a gentleman and lose, will you?” Felton said. “You are a beastwith card games.” Going downstairs, Felton donned his coat and left the house to the carriage. After entering it, his jawset tight and he forced himself to think of anything else but the pity he had seen in Esther’s eyes. He detested pity, warranted or unwarranted, it made him feel incapable and inferior. But again,maybe her feeling sorry for him would work in his favour. The seeds for his seduction were planted, by now he was sure that she had read half of the bookalready and her heart must be palpitating in lust. But Catherine’s heart had been palpitating in pain,and she needed to feel it even worse. No, he was not going to ruin her out of spite, but she was goingto know what heartbreak was and know it dearly.

Chapter 7 Everyone had gone to bed and with trembling fingers, Esther reached into her night stand, with thecentre between her legs already fluttering. The book, with its vivid imagery, stirred her blood likenothing else. With the book on her lap, she trimmed the lamp and opened it to her last page. He cupped her full breast, silken and round; fitting perfectly in his large palm. Madeline threwher head back and gnawed at her lip, the sensations from his touch sending streaks of fire throughher body. The feel of his hot mouth over her tender skin was just as sensual as Madeline watchingher budded nipple disappear in his mouth and re-emerge, glistening wet. Esther bit her lips as her middle grew warm and she pressed her legs tight. She read past Madeline’sseduction by Nathaniel’s lips, to him looping a silken cloth around her eyes and. The pressure on her chin had her lips open and his tongue thrust into her mouth like a fierce lancedemanding submission. Madeline’s back arched as his kiss changed from demanding to savage .His rough palms skimmed over her stockinged legs, as he pulled her bared thighs apart. His body covered hers and lost in the maelstrom of lust, Madeline clung to him, her pelvisnaturally lifting to take what he would give her. Deeper and deeper, he entered her sheath,rasping her name with a guttural cry. Trapped in throes of ecstasy, Madeline felt his turgidnesstouch the end of her, his heat flooding her womb. Whimpering a little, Esther briefly closed the book to suck in a well-needed breath of air. Her lungswere burning from the tightness in her middle and the pounding of her heart. Pressing a free hand tothe organ, she felt the hard thumps of it against her ribcage. She felt undone. Was this Arthur’s subtle way of seducing her? Was he trying to let her know the

pleasures she would feel under his hand? Was he trying to break down her inhibitions and let herknow about the pleasures that came from utterly, scandalous acts? If that was his aim—he was right. All I can imagine is him kissing me, undressing me…defloweringme. Her heart hammered just a little out of rhythm when she considered it; and though it felt sensual toplay a courtesan, to break proprietary, and let her inner desires out, she did not know if she could doso. All her life she knew that marriage had to come first… but now, the smoke of temptation wasslithering under the wall of her control. Closing the book, Esther set it back in her drawer and stepped out of bed. Grasping and donning herwrapper, Esther went to her window. With her hands braced on the cold sill, she gazed out. Esther could not number the times she had dreamed of a Romeo climbing the trellis to her balcony,singing sonnets to her, wooing her with declarations of love. Now though—fate had found it fitting tosend Captain Arthur Morgan her way. A man with none of the romantic sentimentalities she haddreamed of, but one who had all the attributes in a man she prized. He was honest to a fault, loyal, and brave—those she had already gathered from their interactions, butshe had to see if he was gracious, caring, and fun-loving—although, his actions in the sweetshop hadtold her so. Resting her head on the sill, she grieved for Arthur, to know that he had risked his life for freedomand had to come home to a life of agony, pained her. He said there is nothing I can do…but what if there was? Perhaps a small token of my thanks? Butwhat do I have to give that will make a mark on him?

Going to her vanity, she opened a drawer and rooted through it, in vain. Nothing, no trinkets norbaubles stood out enough to be sent as a gift to him. Frustrated a little, she closed the drawer andwent back to bed. Perhaps by the next morning, she would have enough clarity to find somethingfitting. Her rest was fitful, and she woke still undecided and muddled. Opting not to move from her bed justyet, Esther reached for a pillow and hugged it close to her chest. Her life veered off into a spin themoment Arthur had taken her on the dance-floor and now, her sensibilities were still reeling. A soft knock that announced Margaret’s entrance had her looking up as her maid came in. “Goodmorning, My Lady. I am sorry to disturb you, but His Grace has asked you to see him in his study nowbefore he leaves.” Huffing under her breath, Esther moved from the bed and grasped her wrapper. “Good morning,Margaret. What do you suppose he needs to speak to me about?” “I have nary an inkling, My Lady,” Margaret replied, while Esther went off to wash her face andmouth. Donning a housecoat over her wrapper, Esther donned her slippers and left the room to see John. Hewas behind his desk, signing papers and setting them aside. “John?” Esther asked, “Why the summons?” His eyes flickered up to her, “I’ve told Mother about your visits with Captain Morgan and she hasasked to meet him today. I have sent him a message and he will be by this evening.”

Oddly, Esther felt betrayed, “And you had no regard to ask me first?” John placed the quill unto the blotter, “I did not think I had to. If you had sneaked off with the Captainany more and the gossipers got wind of it, you would have found yourself in a scandal you wouldhave fought hard to dig yourself out.” “I had not sneaked off anywhere,” she said indignantly. “I left notes.” “Notes or not, you left when Mother and I were away,” John replied, “That is sneaking away in mybook.” Bristling, Esther shot back, “And when you left off in the middle of the night to go see that lady, Gale,something, was that not sneaking off?” He sat back in his chair and gave her a dry look, “Miss Gale was my engaged, and I am male; I havemore freedom.” “Is that why you broke the engagement by letter,” Esther pressed, scornfully. “Because you have thepower to do so?” John’s lips twisted in displeasure, “That was not the reason, and my broken engagement with MissGale is not up for discussion. What is, is your fledging courtship by Captain Morgan. Be prepared forthis evening, that’s all.” He went back to his letters, and after gaping at her brother’s gall, Esther spun on her heel and stormed

out. She went to her rooms with anger brewing under her breastbone. “Ugh!” She exclaimed, “The nerve of that man! Can you believe it, Margaret, he went off to send forthe Captain without even telling me first, and you know what was his reasoning? That my jaunts withArthur would have landed me into a scandal.” Margaret's lips downturned, “Pardon me for saying this My Lady, but I do agree. It might have endedvery wrongly for you.” Esther knew her maid and brother were right, but the only thing she wanted was some considerationand inclusion in matters that concerned her. Plopping down in a chair near to Margaret, Esther bitback a scowl, “I should tell the Captain to stay away.” “But you won’t,” Margaret suggested. Picking at her skirt, Esther shook her head, “No, I won’t.” Resting her hand on Esther’s, Margaret asked, “Why don’t you look at this as the best thing. HerGrace will know of the man and I am sure Captain Morgan will make a good impression on her.” “He will,” Esther added, “…I feel so sorry for him, Margaret. After all, he had gone through to comehome and suffer again…zounds. That is horrible.” “I agree,” Margaret said, “At first I had my misgivings, but now that I have a clearer understanding ofwho he is, my mind has changed. I cannot fathom what it is to have night-terrors about war anddeath.”

Heaving out a sigh, Esther felt her anger fade while she moved to her wardrobe, “I suppose all I cando is to prepare for the day. Which dresses do you think will suffice, Margaret?” *** Seated in the drawing-room with her mother, Eleanor Harewood, and two maids, Esther waited witha nervous flutter of her heart for Arthur to arrive. All morning, she had been as restless as a nomad.Esther knew that she had done nothing wrong when it came to where Arthur was concerned, yet thethought of him meeting her mother filled her with disquieting. Her mother, who was utterly un-flustered, reached for her teacup with her usual, understated glamour.Caught up in an elegant twist, her mother’s auburn tresses framed her impeccable features, and heremerald promenade dress—which matched vivid eyes Esther saw in her mirror every day—clungfittingly to her willowy figure. “He is a Navy Captain, you say?” Eleanor asked. “He is,” Esther replied, nervously, while smoothing her teal dress, “Recently returned from France.” Settling the cup back in the saucer, Lady Eleanor said, “I see.” Tense, Esther rubbed her hands together, “Please do not be utterly critical of him, Mother. He is anatypical Lord, and I find that I appreciate it.” “You were always one to prefer an unorthodox soul,” Eleanor said. “I think I’d love to meet him.”

“To be clear, I did not endeavour myself to hide him from you, Mother,” Esther said. “We werechaperoned, nothing untoward happened and I—” A knock on the door stopped her words and a maid, came in, apologized, and announced that CaptainMorgan was here. After her mother gave the order to send him in, Esther stood nervously and went tostand beside her mother. Captain Morgan came in, bearing two bouquets, and bowed. “Good afternoon, Your Grace, and LadyHarewood. I am Arthur Morgan. Please accept theses as my gratitude for seeing me, Madam,” hesaid, as he handed the flowers to them. “I as well,” Lady Eleanor extended her hand and Arthur took it and kissed the back of her hand.“Please sit.” Instead of taking his seat immediately, Arthur looked at Esther, “My Lady?” Flushing, Esther moved to her seat that Arthur had pulled out for her. Seated, she saw admirationflash over her mother’s tranquil face before he took his seat as well. From the corner of her eye,Esther admired Arthur’s dark suit, but this time his waistcoat was a deep blue instead of black. Hiscravat, though, was black, and the sapphire pin gleamed against the fabric. “Tea or coffee, Captain Morgan?” Lady Eleanor asked while she gestured for a maid to serve the tea. “Coffee, please,” Arthur replied while his cup was set before him. “Is His Grace away?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Lady Eleanor said, “He had business to take care with the House of Lords. Areyou an acquaintance of his?” “Not personally,” Arthur replied while reaching for his tea, “I was introduced to him by a mutualfriend of ours at Lady Ashford’s ball. That was where I met the stunning Lady Harewood.” Esther nearly choked in her tea but managed to swallow down her drink. Thankfully, Arthur’sattention was on her mother and her mother’s focus was on him. “On behalf of my suddenly mute daughter, thank you,” Lady Eleanor said, only to have Esther gasp. “Mother!” She spluttered. “And now you are not,” lifting her cup, the dowager smiled to Esther then addressed the Captainagain. “I am told you are from the Navy and you fought in France. On behalf of those who cannotvoice their gratefulness, I thank you for your service.” Dipping his head, Arthur took her compliments, “I’m humbled to hear that, Your Grace.” Clearing her throat, Esther added, “‘Twas not only France, Mother. He has travelled more: AfricaSpain, Russia, and Austria.” “But they were all for the war, My Lady, and I would rather not reflect on the war now,” Arthurreplied. “I am proud of what I had accomplished by putting Bonaparte away, Your Grace, but it is nota particular part of my life I like to reflect on.”

Inclining her head graciously, Lady Eleanor said, “And no one should ask that of you. I understandthat you sent my daughter that elegant bouquet of white roses and snowdrops. What a lovelycombination.” “I cannot take all the credit, Your Grace,” Arthur replied. “I must admit I have help in choosing thearrangement. I speak four dialects but, apparently, there is a language to flowers, one of which I amcompletely ignorant. Thankfully, someone translated it for me.” Laughing softly, Lady Eleanor reached for her cup, “Are you a practical man, Captain Morgan?” “Unquestionably,” Arthur replied. “I prefer pragmatism and common-sense over idealism andnaïveté. Not to say that those ideals have their roles in life, and while others dream their way through,but I cannot live under that philosophy.” “I have met a few soldiers in my life, and I cannot say that any of them see life through an illusion,”Lady Eleanor commiserated. “Your sort has had your principles ripped away from you by theatrocious things you’ve seen.” Arthur attempted a smile, but the twitch at the corner of his lips fell flat, “That is the most accurateunderstanding of our ordeal I have ever heard, thank you for your regard, Your Grace.” “Now that you are home, what will you do?” Lady Eleanor asked. “I am still trying to decide on that,” Arthur replied. “Many of my fellows have gone on to take theirhandsome payments and retire to a country villa, but I cannot. It is bred in me to be active and I willfind an occupation to fit it.”

“And what of a family?” Lady Eleanor asked. “Any relatives, Captain?” “I am an only son and my father passed away when I was quite young. The masters of Eton andOxford raised me,” Arthur replied. “I hardly think I can count them as family.” Flitting her fingertips over the base of her throat, Lady Eleanor nodded, “Well I am assured that a manof your talents will never have a lack of opportunities. Now, I think we have skirted the main issuelong enough; should I anticipate a courtship request from you, Captain?” “Actually,” Arthur said as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded paper. “I had intended tohand it to His Grace.” Shock radiated from the top of Esther's head to the tips of her toes, and she rested the cup withtrembling fingers. Elegantly, Lady Eleanor took the papers and opened them; while Esther’s handsclenched and unclenched on her lap anxiously. Silently, her mother closed the letter, “It is all there and more, Captain Morgan. I am duly impressed,and I believe you will be a lovely partner for Esther. Your self-control and level-headedness that Ihave perceived you have will be a real contrast to Esther’s natural fancifulness and whimsy—” “Mother!” Esther exclaimed in horror. Lady Eleanor slid a glance over to Esther but did not break in her sentence, “—and I give you fullpermission for this courtship.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Arthur dipped his head. Stepping away from the table, her mother said, “I will get a quill to sign it; just a moment.” Esther knew that her mother could have sent a maid for the quill-pen, but her mother must haveunderstood that Esther needed a moment with Arthur, and there were maids in the room, so they werestill chaperoned. With Lady Eleanor glided away, Esther turned to Arthur with wide eyes,“Courtship, Arthur?” “How else would we find if we are truly suited?” Arthur replied, reached over to flitter his fingersover her cheek, “Do you not think it wise?” Esther nearly leaned into his hand, but heard the soft padding of her mother’s feet, and pulled away.Nevertheless, Lady Eleanor shrewd gaze flicked between them, and her lips curled in—approval? Resting the inkwell, blotter, and quill on the table, Lady Eleanor took her seat, dipped her quill in,and signed the courtship request with a flourish. “There. It is official,” Lady Eleanor nodded. “I just hope that this courtship will not end up likeJohn’s.” “His Grace was courting?” Arthur asked. “Yes,” Lady Eleanor said, sitting away, “ I was told the young lady was a scarlet woman and adeceiver, loving another man while manipulating my son like a puppet. I would rather not have myclass mixed with that lot.”

A fleeting look of anger flashed across Arthur’s face but in the next breath, it was gone. Estherblinked and brushed the moment off in favour of digesting the revelation; just that morning, John hadnot even hinted that deceit was the reason he had broken the courtship. “I am sorry to hear that,” Arthur replied. Oh, that is why he was angry—his sense of honour felt the slight for John. “I’m glad that you see that,” Lady Eleanor said. “I despise deceivers. Now, will you stay for dinner,Captain Morgan?”

Chapter 8 It was a miracle that the cold rage swirling inside Felton did not contort his face in a dark mask offury. His hands fisted at his sides as the surge of anger, like dark water, rushing under a sheet of ice,began to crack the façade. He struggled to regain control against the raging chaos and knew he had toleave before he exploded. How dare that woman say that about Catherine? My sister is not a strumpet! “Thank you for the offer, Your Grace,” Felton said, “But I will have to decline. I have a priorengagement that I must attend to.” He did not give a deuce if the Duchess thought it was rude, but he would prefer she thought it as aninsult, more than feel horror when he flipped the table into her face. A flicker of surprise crossed over Duchess Ayles’ face, but she took his rejection with aplomb. Shestood then, “I am sorry to see you go, but I am delighted I have met you, Captain Morgan.” “As am I,” Arthur stood and bowed. “Thank you for taking the time to see me.” Scrambling up, Esther stood, “I’ll walk you out.” Following Arthur to the door, Esther wondered why his body seemed to be bristling with anger, buthis expression was blank. At the door, while he dressed in his coat and gloves, she rested her hand onhis arm, and nearly jerked her hand away when he flinched. “Is something amiss, Arthur?”

His lips flattened, then his fierce expression softened. Taking her hand, he kissed the back of it, “No,and I am sorry to have worried you.” Still not comforted by his words, Esther searched his eye, but instead of seeing openness, it was as ifa brick wall had slammed itself under his eyes. “Are you sure?” Esther pressed. “Very,” he dropped her hand. “I’ll contact you on the morrow.” The rumble of his carriage had his head turning and with another look to her, he strode out to thevehicle, entered it, and slammed the door behind him harder than necessary. The utter gall of thatwoman to imply that Catherine was a loose woman. His intentions for Esther got upended in a heartbeat—oh, now, instead of just shaming her, he wasgoing to seduce her and ruin her. That would teach that despicable family a lesson or two. The angerand pain bottled inside him, chilled his insides until all that was left was determination and arenewed hunger for revenge. I would rather not have my class mixed with that lot. “That lot,” he sneered. “Seems to me your lot, Duchess Ayles, is a rapscallion and, a liar and awhoreson.” He arrived at his home with his heart a block of iron and his conscience silenced by his anger. The

succulent aroma of stew beef should have drawn upon his appetite, but his desire for food was non-existent. Now that the Duchess had given him permission to court Esther, this was going to make it awhirlwind and have her in his bed before Boxing Day. He got to his bedchamber and after ripping hisgloves away, began to pace in frustration. He had to increase the seduction quickly instead of slowly as he had planned. A single kiss would notdo; he had to get her used to his touch as well. By the second time they were intimate, he had to gether somewhat naked, and by the third, she would be deflowered. But his mind kept reeling back to the nasty things Duchess Ayles had said about Catherine. I was told the young lady was a scarlet woman and a deceiver, loving another man whilemanipulating my son like a puppet. If the Duke, that bloody John Harewood had told his mother, that bag of lies, Felton was liable to callthe cad out for a dawn appointment. His fury was boiling because he knew Catherine did not deservesuch slander. He did not need to get Catherine’s side of the story as though his sister might be a bitflighty and superficial; she had a strong sense of morals and would have never betrayed a man whoshe loved. Striding to his writing desk, he pulled out a sheet of paper and wrote Rawden Hind a letter. He askedhim to keep close to Catherine, if only for friendship, and to keep her spirits buoyant in Felton’sstead. With that done, he poured himself a glass of wine and began to consider how he could get a momentof privacy with Esther in the next few days and his eyes landed on the newspaper on his table.

Setting the glass aside, he picked it up and went to the announcement section, and spotted the musicaleat Almacks again, only this time, as he read closer, he realized that it was not only a musicale, butamasquerade ball as well and supper after. From his experiences, disguises had a particular habit of making one lose this sense of identity anddecorum. Instead of a lady in a ball, it was Aphrodite in her temple. If he could take Esther, he couldget that privacy he needed with her and start her seduction. Marking the musicale and the prices for the entrance fee, he found the sum and after calling for hisfootman, sent him off to buy the vouchers and then went to pen a request to Esther about the musicale. Unable to sit down, he dressed again in his coat, gloves and strode out of the house. He made it toMayfair Street, and from there, his restless walking took him far out to Ludgate Hill—and cameacross Rundell, Bridges and Rundell, the jewellers. On a whim, he stepped in and cast a critical eye over the displays of gold, silver and diamonds.Perhaps he could find a trinket for Esther there, but he did not want it to be too opulent. His recalledthe gifts his father would give his Mother and they were always simple but elegant. He hardlybelieved that Esther would want to walk around with a ring the size of a goose egg. “May I help you, Sir?” An attendant asked. With his eyes skipping over the displays, Felton asked, “A silver bracelet, something understated butgraceful.” Nodding, the man moved off to get a few choices, Felton’s eyes landed on a mannequin with a choker:its triple strand of flawlessly matched pearls with a centerpiece an emerald the size of a small

continent. Emerald was probably taken from a poor province in India and that silver smuggled out of France.What a sign of indulgent society we live in. The attendant called his attention back from the roiling with antipathy, “Would any of these suit you,Sir?” In the second set, he picked up a thick bracelet with the thinnest, most delicate silver links he hadever seen and had a tiny seed pearl in the middle. “I think this will do.” “Splendid,” the attendant said, “This way, please.” Fifteen minutes later, Felton walked away with the jewellery secured in small suede pouch tuckedtightly in his coat inner jacket pocket. He strolled back to his home with only a single ember of angersmouldering his chest. This time, when he arrived home, he sent for his dinner while securing the trinket in a drawer.Halfway through his meal, the footman came back with the voucher for the musicale and Esther’senthusiastic reply for the outing. I would be delighted to accompany you. Smirking, he held the card up, “Not as much I will be.”

Most of the means for her seduction were in place, he just had to find a way to get her alone. Isolated,he would touch her, flatter her, whisper wicked things in her ear, and steal a few kisses—then hewould retreat and make her come to him. Standing, Felton went to his wardrobe and considered what he could cobble together for a devilcostume; a red waistcoat, black cravat and he would need a mask. There was not anything fitting, sohe made a mental note to take a trip to the Arcade. When I am done, the Devil will be taking notes on what revenge is. *** The musicale was not what Felton had expected; when he had thought that the function would only inone room at Almacks, he found that there were five rooms. Five rooms with five different orchestra’s,and people moved freely from one room to another. Three of the rooms had people dancing on the floors and were lit by glistening chandeliers, but two ofthe rooms were mostly darkened with only scones of lights on the walls. In those rooms, chairs wereset out for the patrons to listen only and the darkness had Felton grinning like a wolf. There were dozens of ways to sneak away for an illicit rendezvous, when covered by darkness.Especially when there was a room for refreshment just down the way and, beyond that, empty roomsand nooks. But first: dancing. Taking Esther’s hand, he led her to the floor where the strains of the waltz camefrom the orchestra. “I feel it only right that I compliment you once more for offsetting my nefariouscostume with such purity.”

Blushing, Esther dipped her head, “Mother thought that Hestia was the best choice for me.” “She was right,” Felton said smoothly as they danced, “The silver laurel and the seed pearls in yourmask are enchanting, and for your gown, I keep wondering if you are a mortal or had somehowdescended from Olympus.” “’Tis only watered ivory silk,” Esther laughed. “Aye, but it floats like ether and makes you look as if you are walking on a cloud.” For proof, Feltonspun them, and the tassels and tails of her dress billowed up in the air, making her squeak. “My stockings,” she gasped. *** Flustered that half of the room must have seen her stocking, Esther felt her face flame. “Don’t worry, Esther,” he said sultrily, “I doubt anyone had time to see your stockings.” The music swelled around them, the colourful swirls of the ladies’ dresses were all but a blur ofmotion around them, but all she could see was Captain Morgan and his cocksure smirk. Then theywere dancing so quickly she felt as if she were flying, her excitement at being held so securely in hisarms was overwhelming and Esther was giddy with it.

Arthur’s gaze, through his devil mask, had not once left hers. He stared down at her, his expressionintense, warm—and dare she say loving—and she gloried in his attention. It was a heady thing, andwhen he spun her again, she laughed aloud, so happy, and free that the sound burst from her. He grinned again, “Am I amusing?” When she twirled, Esther twirled right into his arms and landed square on his chest. Her gloved handswere pressed on his chest and the white of her gloves were stark against his black clad chest. Pressedtightly on his chest, she met his eyes for one fleeting second that felt like an eternity. Arthur’s heated expression sent shivers down her spine, and when he tenderly righted her, the pupilsof his eyes were craters with a thin rim of blue. She knew what that meant; didn’t she? Yes, it was apassage in that book. Nathaniel’s eyes landed on Madeline’s with lust, the blacks in his eyes eclipsing the green of hiseyes. Could it be that he desired her, intimately? Imagery brought on by the salacious book Arthur had givenher had Esther swallowing over a tight throat. Vaguely she realized the people were dancing the lastfew steps around them while they stood still. The music trailed off, the dance ended, and she managedto tear herself from his sliver-blue gaze. “I am—” she wetted her lips, while feeling his eyes following the motion, “—parched. Shall we getsome water?” His hand brushed over the small of her back, and the heat of his palm seemed to brand her eventhrough three layers of clothing, “I’ll get it. Please, join Miss Smith and rest a while. The next danceis the Scottish reel.”

When he escorted her back to Margaret, Arthur bowed and left to refreshment room and instantlyEsther mourned the loss of his hand. Reaching into the reticule, Esther fished out her fan, and fannedher flushed face. “Are you all right, My Lady?” “No,” Esther said, “I’m at sixes and sevens, Margaret. Captain Morgan is…” she blew out a breathand shot a look at the direction the man had taken, “…I think I am falling in love with him.” “That’s good, isn’t it?” Margaret asked. “It should be,” Esther bit back a sigh, “I’m not complaining; I think it’s wonderful, but I’m so sweptup in him I can barely think. When I am near him, my logic vanishes, and my emotions take over. Hehas this magnetic pull to him and I… I’m sorry. I know I am not making any sense.” Her best friend rested a hand on Esther’s thigh, “No, it makes perfect sense. I think and pardon mebecause I have no basis for this as I have never been in love before, but I think you are unsettledbecause of the very fact that you have never been in love before. I have heard ladies who professfalling in love is precisely that, falling. You will feel unsettled.” “Is that—” Esther broke off as Arthur was striding to them, bearing a glass of water. “Here you are, My Lady,” he said while handing her the glass. “I hope you are not too tired.” “No,” Esther said, “Not at all.”

Taking a seat near her, Arthur looked around, “Perhaps after this next dance we can go and listen tothe orchestra in the other room?” Pulling the glass from her lips, Esther smiled over the rim, “I’d like that, thank you.” By the time the next dance was called, Esther had finished her water and Margaret went off to put theglass away. She danced the reel with Arthur and when it ended, pressed a hand to her heaving chest.“I must declare, I am not fanciful of those dances, the reel, the jig and the strathspey. You, My Lord,hardly look winded.” Arthur slanted his head to her, “I am an active man, My Lady,” he said while leading her to Margaret,“Shall we go to the music room?” “Yes, please,” she agreed while collecting her reticule from her maid. “Shall I accompany you, My Lady?” Margaret asked. Esther looked to Arthur, who looked impassive, then back to Margaret, “I do not think you need to.We’ll only be a room away. All will be fine, Margaret.” Her maid shot a worried look at Captain Morgan, but she had to obey Esther’s word and nodded,“Please, enjoy yourself, My Lady and My Lord.” Taking Arthur’s arm, she allowed him to lead her to the other room where the seated orchestra was.

Half-a-dozen globe lamps glowed from nooks, illuminating the orchestra playing on the stage morethan the audience. He found a seat for them in a dark corner near a side door, while a riveting rendition of Beethoven’sThird Symphony, its smooth but whimsical tones swirled in the air. The romantic music had Esthersighing with the soft lulls between the stanzas and feeling the grip of excitement when the tone shiftedto triumphant melodies. While the music swelled, Arthur reached and held her hand, clasping it in one of his large palmswhile covering the back of it with his second. She chanced a look at him and saw that his stoic facewas still unmoved, but then again, Esther should have expected that. He had already told her that hewas not a fanciful man. He might have even suggested listening to the orchestra to please her insteadof himself. Tightening her grip, Esther listened as the music changed to part two of the symphony when Arthurleaned into her ear, “I must admit, I brought you here because I want a few more private momentswith you. Would you follow me?”

Chapter 9 Esther hesitated for a moment, but then tightened her hand with his while he led her out through theside door. She expected him to take her to another room with another orchestra, but he took her up alevel to another chamber. It was empty, but the large bow windows had the moonlight streamingthrough it to land on a chaise. He took her to the window and grasped her hands to wrap them around his neck while his handsrested on her hips. “Dance with me?” Although a bit thrown by the odd request, Esther, as she was wont to do when arrested by theCaptain’s mesmerizing eyes, sank into the bubble of fantasy, and agreed to the impromptu dance. Toher, nothing mattered, but his attention fixed on her, as if there were no other ladies in the world andthat she was all he saw. Esther found her breast flush on his chest with a soft press on the back, and his mouth was at her ear.“I wish we could dance like this always,” he murmured. “It's more intimate, so much closer, just youand I. The world outside doesn’t exist here.” His words were almost fanciful, but Esther knew it was not so; Arthur was not the sort of spinningtales or of feeding her lies—she knew what he was saying was the truth. And he was right; pressedtight against the man she was losing her heart to felt glorious. The more he held her, the more wildly here desire coursed through her veins. As if he could read theemotions building inside her, Arthur’s lips skimmed the curve of her ear. Shocks danced along herskin as his lips traced the delicate shell, and before she could regain her senses, he enveloped thetender lobe in his hot mouth.

Her feet faltered, and her fingers sank into his shoulder while tremors shook her body. Disoriented,she tried to focus on the present, feel the sensations unfurling within her, and dare to believe that theywere real. His touch, his strange kiss was unexpected, sinful... exciting. With her breasts pressed tightly on his,her skin began to chafe against her chemise and went red, the tips of her breasts had grown taut andwere throbbing. Arthur’s lips journeyed from her ear, up the curve of her jaw, flitting across her cheek, and, byinstinct, Esther turned her lips to his and as his mouth lowered. Seconds before contact, she felt atremble of awareness run through her knowing it would be her first kiss. He sealed his mouth across hers, and Esther allowed him to kiss her; with no further invitation, Arthurpossessed her mouth. Flames ignited and raced through her body from their single point of connection,spreading through every muscle and igniting every nerve. She met each tender stroke of his velvetytongue with her own timid touch. Arthur had one palm splayed between her shoulder blades and while the other at curved over her hip,he kissed her harder. Esther speared her finger into his thick hair and, before she knew it, his handsdipped to her waist. He lifted her onto the protruding windowsill, and crowded into the vee of herlegs. His tongue slid against hers, twisting and twining with her tongue, seducing her with every slick passwhile she tried her best to repay in kind. Arthur knew what he was doing; while she felt clumsy,ungainly, and fumbling through it. Arthur did not seem to notice and kept kissing her intensely while a molten wave of longing washedover her, and liquid heat pooled between her thighs. His broad hands spanned her nipped-in waist,and his thumbs pressed just under her ribs, but she wished they were over her breasts.

Arthur pulled away from her lips, but lingered an inch from them, “May I touch you, Esther?” A whimper dislodged itself from her throat with a hushed tone, “Please.” Again, Arthur picked her up and, with three enormous strides, rested her on the chaise. He perchedher back on the arm, so she arched nicely and his arm snaked around her to brace her against him. Heslid a knee between her legs while kissing down her neck, his hand palmed her breast and he movedhis thumb lazily across her hardened nipple. The sensations overtook her body, and she began to drift on the sea of them, listless. The heat ofArthur’s body over hers, the kiss of his lips, and the stroke of his thumb over her breast carried herfarther and farther away. Esther lay, like pliable clay under Arthur’s masterful sculpting. Pleasureslithered through her core, and she dimly felt the rough rasp of his buff trousers against the softness ofher inner thigh. As she registered this last fact, she felt the flush of wetness in her core. Instead of being jolted toreality, she wished Arthur would touch her there as well. But while she luxuriated under his touch,she felt a little confused when Arthur pulled away. He kissed the side of her neck and sat away. “Arthur?” She whispered. “I think we’ve been absent long enough,” he said sorrowfully. “I wish we could do more, but I do notthink we have enough time to explore, love. We’ll have to find more privacy another time.”

He helped her sit up, and she pressed her hand to her heart, feeling the wild thump of herumcontrollable organ against her ribs. “Esther?” “Yes, yes,” she stood and fixed her skirts and patted her hair. “We should rejoin the orchestra.” Standing, he extended his hand to her, and she took it while they descended the stairs, tried to digestwhat had happened between her and Arthur. They slipped back into the room just as the finale of thesymphony began to peter away. She nearly collapsed into her seat; she was not ready to go back to theballroom and face Margaret as she still felt flushed. Arthur spun his old chair to her and reached out to take her hands. “Please don’t tell me I’ve disturbed you? I apologize for—” “No,” Esther rushed to stop him. “You did nothing wrong, it's just…” she trailed off while the patronsleft the room. A few women shot looks to her over their fans and behind their champagne flutes, butshe kept silent until they left. Arthur did not notice them at all as his focus was trained on her, and he kept his gaze on her until theroom emptied. “What is it, Esther?” He asked. “Don’t be afraid to tell me I crossed a line I shouldn’t have.” Covering his hand, Esther shook her head, “You’ve done nothing wrong, I just—I feel like a naïf. You—a while ago, if you did not feel it, you were my first kiss, and I—I felt as if you’d prefersomeone who knew what they were doing.” Her words ended with a heavy note of self-criticism , and

Esther’s eyes were down on her lap. “You must think me banal,” she whispered. Arthur plucked her hands up from her lap and covered them with his, but she kept her eyes down.“Will you look at me?” Biting a corner of her lip, Esther met his eyes and saw only compassion and… pride? “I do not thinkyou are dull, Esther, I believe that you are a lovely woman with passionate desires that you want tolet out, but you have not had a way to do so.” Disbelief washed through Esther while her hands tightened over his, “Truly?” “Truly,” he replied. “Moreover, if I had pushed you too much tonight, I promise you that I will not do—” “No!” Esther blushed furiously at her exclamation. “No, please, don’t stop. I do like our intimatemoments, so please, don’t hold back on any…I like kissing you.” His knuckles brushed her cheek, and Arthur’s tone was pleased, “And I love knowing that my kisswas your first. Your blush is very fetching.” “As much as a splash of red paint on speckled china would be,” she snorted while pressing her handto her other cheek. Dropping her hand, she smiled, “Thank you for a wonderful time, Arthur. I enjoyedit.”

“As did I,” he nodded, stood, and extended his hand. “Shall we rejoin Miss Smith?” They went back to the first room, with tumultuous emotions battling inside Esther’s chest; she still feltashamed about how she had kissed Arthur but felt pleased that he had overlooked her naïveté.However, what lingered under both emotions was the desire to feel more, to have more of him, toexperience real pleasure, like the one she read about almost every night. The acts Nathaniel performed on Madeline had her aching in strange ways, wanting and imagininghow it would feel to mirror those acts with Arthur. But perhaps she would have to wait until marriageto feel the pleasure she knows Arthur would give her. If by just his kiss, he had put her on the brink of shattering, how much more would it be when hetouched her, sucked on her breast, kissed her body, slid his fingers inside her, and joined them asone? Her stomach quivered with anticipation, and when they rejoined Margaret, she heeded the call forsupper and went to eat. Hours later, as they were on the way to her home, Arthur exclaimed softly. “I forgot to give you this,” he said while reaching into his jacket and pulling out a pouch, “Please,open it?” Taking the soft pouch, Esther pulled the strings and, reaching in, took out a slender silver bracelet,that shimmered across her palm like a sliver of moonlight. “Oh, Arthur, it's beautiful.” He took it from her, “Your hand, please.”

Extending it, she held in a breath when he circled her wrist and managed to latch the tiny clasp withhis large fingers. She pulled away and saw the dangling pearl that rested right on her inner wrist. “Iam speechless, Arthur, thank you.” “You’re welcome,” he said mildly. “I am glad you enjoyed tonight.” “I’ll never forget it,” Esther assured him, as her heart threatened to break through the cage of herbreastbone. Margaret was right—this feeling of love was the reason she felt so overwhelmed by Arthur, and asshe thought about it, she understood why. She was not infatuated with Arthur; she did not only loveArthur; she was in love with him. And it might feel silly and unbelievable to have fallen head overheels in love with him, but it was undeniable, she wanted Arthur to be the man she would spend herlife with. When the carriage came to her home’s door, Esther was hesitant in leaving, but when Arthur gentlyhelped her out, she decided that it would be best for her to be apart from him for a while. It would notchange her mind, but she needed to be extremely sure that she wanted to marry him. He bowed to her inside the foyer, “Good night, My Lady.” “Same to you, My Lord,” she curtsied. Esther’s eyes lingered on his broad shoulders and powerful figure as he disappeared through the doorand then turned to the grand stairs. She drifted into her room in a mist of happiness and paused toremove her coat while taking care not to snag her bracelet on the cloth.

When it was removed, she sank to the chaise and twisted her arm to examine the circlet in detail. Itwas so elegant and lovely that her heart turned a little; this was undeniably a romantic gesture,something Arthur had told her he was not one to profess. He had to have gone against his nature to buythis for her, which said to her that, above all, he was proving his commitment to her. “Margaret…” she said quietly. “…I want to marry Arthur.” *** No, please, don’t stop. I do like our intimate moments, so please, don’t hold back on any…I likekissing you. Savage satisfaction rested on Felton's chest as those words ran through his mind while he travelledhome. Thank God that in those moments he had gone to get her water, he had quickly scouted out aplace he could have taken her to, and his efforts had paid off handsomely. Esther was following his lead as he had hoped she would; now that she knew and had admitted towanting more, he was going to give her all she wanted and more than she had imagined. She had notshied away from his advances, and though she had professed to stumbling through the kiss, he had feltthe kisses of a coy woman. Who did she think she was fooling? She was a liar, and a deceiver like her jackanapes of a brother.Paired with her mother's nasty remarks about Catherine, Felton was even more determined to pay thefamily tit for tat. After arriving at home, he called for bathing water, in his bedchamber de-robed, and donned a banyanbefore he admitted the footmen. When the copper tub was filled, a fire crackled in the hearth behindhim; he did away with the robe and slipped into the water.

Closing his eyes, he rested his hand against the back lip of the tub, draped an arm along the edgewhile bringing a leg up. He sighed out and allowed the warm water to permeate his tight muscles.Thinking of Esther and her soft pillowy lips, arousal stirred in his gut, and his hand ventured south. His length was already filling, and when he took himself in hand, he began to dream. What would ithave been like if he had met Esther on a regular plane? What would it be if revenge were not thedriving force for him to seduce her? What if he honestly did want her for the woman she was? He concentrated on Esther’s mouth, the plump twin lips that he wanted to bite into like a ripe cherry;how they would feel when they dropped soft kisses along his jaw and down his neck, how it wouldfeel when her shy tongue traced the ridges of his chest and flickered across his nipples. How erotic it would feel when she took him in her hand, the diamond of his engagement ringglistening from her fourth finger, while she lowered her mouth to take him in. How the silk of her hairwould flow through his fingers when her small hands played with his stones. Felton’s breath came faster at the thought and his blood heated while he pleasured himself. God,Esther would learn all the ways she could bring him to a boiling point, and so would he. His fantasyshifted to him taking her. Hot, deep thrusts into her body that made lust explode inside him. As heneared his climax, she would cry out his name, and the sound of it, on her tongue, loaded withuttermost bliss, had him spilling over his fist with violent surges. Panting, Felton laid back in the water; his eyes closed tight while he slowly regained awareness ofthe world around him. My name on her lips; which would that name be Arthur…or Felton?

Arthur, he decided, it had to be Arthur. Arthur Morgan, Captain of the Navy, the man who wouldseduce Esther Harewood and teach her family not to play with fire. With the moment of weakness brushed off, he finished his bath and left to the bedroom whilecastigating himself—those bouts of indecisiveness could not happen any more. He was not in lovewith Esther; hell, he could never have genuine feelings for her. All he had to do was get her in his bed and divest the genteel virgin of her innocence. Love had nopart in revenge. But what if she loves you? The thought stopped him cold. Could it be that Esther was merrily skipping down a road that wouldlead her to disaster? Why not—her brother had done it to Catherine. Even more, the reason why thedamn Duke of Ayles should not have played with Catherine’s heart; turnabout was fair play. But... is it?

Chapter 10 Felton found himself at his mother's home the next morning set on visiting Catherine, only to find thathis sister was off to Bath with Rawden Hinds. His brows darted upwards after his mother gave himthe news. “She is rebounding quicker than I would have thought,” Felton remarked. Lady Dorothea wrapped her shawl around her shoulder a bit tighter, and shrugged lightly, “It'sCatherine, Felton. She tends to dramatise her emotions when in reality, she’ll be okay. She alwaysis.” His brows wrinkled with confusion, “What do you mean, Mother?” “Take the Duke of Ayles, for instance,” Lady Dorothea mentioned, and Felton stiffened at the name ofthe dastardly man. “She admitted to loving him, but she only had affection for the man, dear. SinceLord Camden has come around, I have not heard nary a word about the Duke. Catherine tends toembellish things, and now she has found another admirer, I’m one to believe that this affair with theDuke was a passing fancy.” Felton felt affixed to his seat as his mother's words ran through his mind. Was it possible thatCatherine had not loved the Duke as she had professed? No, no. She had looked him in the eye thatday on his return and told him that she loved the man. He had seen tears in her eyes, for heaven’ssake; there was no way she could have been faking those. Reaching for his cup of coffee, Felton said, “I don’t know, Mother; she looked very distraught to methat day.”

Waving her hand, Lady Dorothea corrected him, “Catherine has a flair for the dramatic, dear. I’msorry that you missed three years of her life, or you would know otherwise.” Settling his cup back on the saucer, Felton rubbed the back of his neck, “I regret that too, but Fatherwould have turned over in his grave if I had not answered the call to do what is right. Or was rightback then when the idea seemed so simple…” his gaze drifted off to over his mother’s shoulder, justas his voice trailed off. Memories of the day he had scribbled his name to the Navy’s request resurrected in his mind. Backthen, the vision of serving his county had been covered with gold, but when he had experienced thereality of war, that gold covering had been stripped away like flimsy paper. “But now that I’m on the other side of it, I wish things could be otherwise,” Felton said, and rubbedhis eyes, his suddenly wearied eyes. “Can you send for me on a day when Catherine is not out withHinds? I truly do need to speak with her.” “I will,” Lady Dorothea said, “Felton, son, are you sleeping well?” Yanking his hand away, Felton took a moment to reply. “As best as I can, Mother. And before yousuggest it, I will not be putting laudanum in my tea or taking anything to dull my sense. I can deal withthe… dreams just fine.” “These dreams,” she said, “are they of the war?” He nodded curtly, and before she could speak, added, “Don’t worry, Mother, I’ll be fine.” Standing,he nodded, “Thank you for the coffee, Mother. You’ve given me a few things to think about.”

The lady made to say something but stopped herself, and only said, “You’re welcome, dear. And oneof these days, I would love to meet the lady you’re courting.” Instead of grimacing, Felton laughed hollowly, “We’ll see about that, Mother. Tell Catherine Icalled.” Taking the staircase, he got to the ground floor and donned his coat and hat. The news about Catherineand the Duke had hit him harder than a cannonball blasting through the hull of a ship. Realizations thathe might have acted more rashly than what was needed. But what Her Grace said about Catherine is too cruel to ignore. What is going on here? Rubbinghis face in agitation, Felton felt himself begin to waver—again. Whatever happened, he knew that heneeded to speak to Catherine and let her tell him how she truly felt about Ayles. And find out why the hell Ayles thinks that Catherine is a liar and deceiver. All through the drive, he racked his brain for any connection between the two and could not find anylink. Perhaps Catherine had been entertaining another gentleman during her time with Ayles? Feltonshook; that was ridiculous. After gaining the attention of one of the most powerful men in England,why would Catherine dare to undermine herself by flirting with another when marriage to a Duke wason the line? He arrived at the apartment with an intense headache thrumming at his temples and his soul twisted inknots. Disrobing, he sank to a chair and massaged his forehead. Esther…

How could a few words spin his mind into such a tumble? Not only ten hours ago, he had beenassured of repaying the Harewood family double for the pain their son had caused his sister, butnow… Taking his hand away from his face, Felton’s eyes dipped to the letters on his desk and rifled throughthem. A card from the Harewood house had him grimacing, but he opened it; it was an invitation to aChristmas Ball. Dropping it, he let out a long exhale, stood and went to get his bottle of wine andglass from a shelf, and poured a generous helping. He retook his seat and sipped the sweet wine while wondering how he was going to respond. Hismother had undoubtedly given him a lot of things to mull over, but while he was leaning intofavouring his mother’s words but had to hear it from Catherine’s mouth. Have I rushed into this? Does Esther still deserve this horrible act? How am I going to fix this?Can I fix this? A war was inside him just like days ago, only this time, his mind and conscience lobbied swords.Felton was exhausted and by the time supper came around, he had little urge to eat. Instead, he calledhis carriage around and broke one of his rules, and he went to White’s. The gentleman club on St. James Street had not changed a whit since he left for war. It was still dimlylit, still reeked of sickly-sweet cigar smoke and drunken men who gambled away their fortunes with ahand of whist. He found a table in a shadowed corner with a glass of brandy before him and wondered what logic hehad used in deciding to go to the club. He had no friends, was not interested in playing a card gamethat posed no challenge to him, and could easily have drunk liquor at home.

Perhaps it was just an urge to get out of the house. Castigating himself for his lapse of judgment, Felton sipped his liquor while his thoughts still tumbledaround his head like balls bouncing off each other. “Captain Morgan? Is that you?” Devil and damn, it’s the blasted Duke of Ayles. The man who had broken his sister’s heart came out of the gloom, looking at him with a delightedlook. “It is you. I did not know you were a member of the club, my good man.” “Good evening, Your Grace,” Felton said calmly while internally, he wanted to curse.“How areyou?” “Middling. May I sit?” He said while gesturing to the empty chair before Felton. “Please,” Felton gestured, even though every bone in his body wanted the man gone. “How arethings?” “Quite well,” Duke Ayles replied, while resting his glass on the table and fixing his gemstone studdedcufflinks. “You’ve made a strong impression on my sister, Captain. Esther is quite taken with you.” Stopping himself from pressing his lips tight, Felton forced a laugh, “And here I think I was a bit too

blunt or even boorish with her. I am not a sentimental man, Your Grace. Being sentimental is not inmy make-up.” “Oh really?” the Duke snorted. “Then why is my sister parading the bracelet you gave her as if theywere the Crown Jewels?” Buying time by sipping his drink, Felton tipped his head, “’Tis a trifle.” “Not to Esther, it is not,” the Duke stressed. “I do like you, Captain, and I think you will do very wellfor my sister’s husband.” The glass in Felton’s hand nearly slipped, but he caught himself in time, “Are you sure she would notprefer a gentleman from nobility? One of your class?” John cocked a brow, “Is that why you’re here, in the darkest corner of the clubhouse, stewing? Youdoubt yourself?” “Possibly,” Felton said, while spying an opportunity to pry into the Duke’s life, “Haven’t you everfound yourself in my position? Was there a young lady who made you think twice about if you were fitto marry her?” “It was the other way around,” the Duke replied. “But my ill-fated courtship is not the issue here, yourintentions for my sister are. Esther is not swayed by money or aristocracy, as she has been rearedwith both. What does gain her attention is that of a man who can hold his own, and for some reason,she has this fascination with travel. “If she were to choose a man by those characteristics, she would have married a merchant, but—”

John shrugged, “—Mother would have never allowed that.” Felton’s fist tightened just so around the glass, as he was wont to jump to the conclusion that Estherwas raised to demean those who were less than her, but the man had mentioned his mother. And notonce had he gotten the impression that Esther found him unworthy of her. From last night, it seems that she thinks that she is unworthy of me…well, intimately. “I am only a servant of the Realm,” Felton said, “how am I any different?” “You an esteemed captain of the Royal Navy, and fought for our country,” the Duke clarified. “I don’tsee which merchant can mirror what you have done. Tradesmen have their place, just like warriorshave theirs, and there is no overlap. Compare yourself all you would like, I, on the other hand, see aman who is worthy of praises and good life ahead.” Resting the glass, Felton prodded, “And by happy life, are you not-so-subtly telling me that havingLady Harewood as my wife would be the best thing for me?” The Duke grinned, stood, and took his glass, “I don’t think I said that, but if you think so…” he liftedhis drink. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts. Please excuse me, Captain.” Felton felt even more conflicted with the Duke gone, and eventually stopped drinking and wound hisway out the clubhouse. The cold night air was brisk against his face as he sent for his carriage andwaited for it to arrive. Mayhap I should not lump Esther in with her condescending mother and brother.

When the carriage came around, he boarded it and sank into his seat as he was driven back to theapartment. Felton felt tired—bone tired. He had launched himself headway into a situation that heshould have waded in. The pretence with Esther was starting to drag on him, but he was not sure howhe could pry himself away from the situation. I could always just admit the truth… But even that made his stomach clench tightly. How would Esther take to knowing that he had trickedher? Then again, the lynchpin of how he would act rested on what Catherine would tell him about herand Duke Ayles' situation. He could have taken the easiest route to call the man out for a dawn appointment with pistols cockedat Hyde Park—but no, he had chosen another way. And that was slowly dragging him to hell. When the carriage stalled at his doorway, Felton left the vehicle, and went inside. His dinner hadbeen removed from the table, and he disrobed in silence. He barely got his nightclothes on before heslid under the covers and soon—was dead to the world. *** Spooning milk and sugar into her tea, Esther felt a lightness inside her heart at the thought of Arthur.The Captain was undoubtedly an exceptional man, and she tried to tell herself that she was notimagining herself as Mrs. Morgan—she failed. Esther knew that Arthur was the only man for her andthanked the stars that she had gone to Lady Ashcroft’s ball that night. “Esther,” John greeted her as he stepped into the breakfast room, his tone light, and his expressionmischievous. “I’m glad I’ve found you. I ran into your dashing captain last night at Whites.”

My dashing captain! She pulled the tiny silver spoon from the cup and tried to not let her happiness show too much on herface. Taking a delicate sip, she asked, “Good morning, John. How was he?” “Hm,” John mused while fixing his coffee. “I’d say he’s well. I mention you and marriage in the samesentence, and I dare say he might ask you to marry him.” Esther nearly upended her cup's contents on her lap but managed to drop the cup onto the saucer.“John! Why would you do such a thing?” His brow ticked up under his perfectly combed hair, “Why wouldn’t I? I can see it in your eyes thatyou want to marry him. What would a little prodding hurt?” “It would make me look like a desperate spinster,” Esther ripped the napkin from her lap and droppedit on the table in a huff of frustration. “Now, when he sees me again, what in the heavens will I say tohim?” “Why would you have to say anything?” John asked. “From what I saw, the man was probablyagonizing about the same matter.” Esther’s head snapped to his, “What?” John put down his coffee and shook out his newspaper, “When I first saw the chap, he was in a dark

corner nursing a brandy. We spoke, and let’s just say the conversation centred around a future withyou.” Against common sense, Esther allowed her secret hope to emerge to the forefront. “And what did hesay to that?” Turning a page, John shrugged, “He did not say, but I believe he gained food for thought.” The balloon of hope in her heart deflated as if a pin had been jabbed into it. She looked down into hercooling tea with this conflict heavy on her chest. Any sense of hunger vanished from her, and she hadto force herself to finish her tea. “John, that was very thoughtless of you, and please, in the future, refrain from subtly dropping hints orjust outrightly putting me on the marriage mart without my consent,” Esther said while standing. “But why not?” John asked. “It's clear that you would like him to be your husband.” Esther twisted her head over her shoulder, and her eyes held a mix of impassiveness and fear.“Because I’d prefer such an offer to come from him freely, and without coercion.” “Esther—” She left the room and strode to her quarters, trying to battle the hollow feeling trying to envelop her.The conflict came from the uncertainty of trying to know what Arthur felt for her. She paused in herstep as she remembered the passion in his gaze when he had kissed her, and she knew he desired her,but was there more to it than lust?

Dare she believe that Arthur loved her? If he did, would he say it, or would he prefer to show it bygiving her gifts? That is if he loves me. By instinct, her fingers of her left hand drifted to the wrist of her right to dance over the thin circletthere. If he proved his love by objects, would she accept it? Entering her rooms, she spotted TheCountercharm that she had read halfway through, then her eyes shifted to her bedside drawer wherethe other one, The Lost Love of Lady Madeline, rested. Going to her desk, she took up the book and opened it to her marked place. Esther wondered whatwas going through Arthur’s mind about her when he thought of the book. A soft knock interrupted her, and Esther looked over her shoulder to greet Margaret, “Goodmorning.” “Good morning, My Lady,” Margaret smiled. “I have something for you…” she came around with asilver plate in her hand, and upon it was a note, “It’s from Captain Morgan.” Nearly dropping the book, Esther managed to close it and picked up the card. Opening it, she read,“He’s inviting me to sled in Green Park and-oh! Skating on the Serpentine River! H-how did he knowthat I adore skating. I haven’t been in ages! I certainly didn’t tell him.” Margaret rested her hand on Esther’s shoulder, “Maybe it's providence, My Lady. If he can sensewhat you like from afar…it could be true love.”

I hope it is, or I’ll be crushed because he already holds my heart.

Chapter 11 What in mercies names could have possessed me to ask her to go sledding? The thought kept circling Felton’s mind as his carriage came to rest at the gate of the Green Park. Helooked over to Esther, who held her skates in a box on her lap, and she was gazing out to the gate withawe painted over her face. The small spattering of freckles over her nose - spots that many ladies would have used everyconcoction known to man to eradicate as they are deemed hideous - looked enchanting to Felton. Hishand ached to reach out, cup her cheek, smoothing his thumb over her cheekbone, and kiss her—butdid he have the right to? Felton was not sure he should touch her with all the doubts he carried, and the sense of burgeoningregret lingering at the edge of his mind. He remembered his oath the other day to not ruin her, but onlyto shame her—now, was that even an option? Did she deserve it? “You mentioned a love for skating,” Felton said as he opened the door and stepped out. Holding outhis hand to her, he added, “When was the last time you have.” Esther’s dainty gloved hand, laid on his, was slender and delicate, just like the rest of her. “Over fouryears.” “Are you confident you’ll skate?” Felton asked, “You can sit away, if you are not sure.” She looked up with a brow ticked up, “You doubt my prowess, good sir?”

“I’m only concerned for your safety; I would not want you to get hurt,” Felton replied, trying hard tonot flinch from the irony of his words. Esther gripped his palm, and gave him a sassy look, “I won’t get hurt.” “Well, that is for later today,” Felton turned to the sleigh waiting for them. The majestic horses hadfestive red and green plumes perched from their headgear, and the pale sun shimmered over theglossy black surface of the coach that was waiting for them. “Please.” He helped her into the sleigh and joined her, “Do you like winter?” “When it is not bitterly cold, yes,” Esther replied, while tucking her cashmere scarf tighter into hercoat. “As children, John and I would play outside in the snow, building snowmen and skating. Johnhad the grace of a three-legged horse, so he rarely skated, but we thoroughly enjoyed winter. On theharshest winters, Mother took us to the seaside towns where it was warmer.” “Seems to me you had a fun childhood,” Felton replied. Her head cocked a little, “Hadn’t you?” “My father passed when I was a boy, and as I said, I passed most of my days at Eton and Oxford, andI wouldn’t say spending days on end with a group of rowdy boys was fun. But there was thatwinter…”

The sled was making its way into the park, heading towards the newly erected Temple of theConcord, and Esther leaned into him, “What about that particular winter?” Felton laughed and told her a riveting tale of how he and a few of his friends had concocted thefabulous idea of stealing a bottle of port from their headmaster’s room. He told her how almosteverything imaginable had gone wrong, from one of the boys breaking a window and another onealmost tramping on the man’s cat on the way out. “Were you found out?” Esther laughed. “I think it would be obvious when a bunch of eleven-year-old lads are totally foxed,” Felton replied.“So yes, we were found out and punished to the harshest letter. No one was expelled though, and noone was forced to re-buy the bottle and, thank all mercies, the headmaster made no mark of it on myrecommendation to Oxford.” Esther pressed a hand to her mouth, “I would have loved to see that.” Pausing to look at the arches of the temple, Felton then said, “It was not a pretty picture, and it taughtme a lesson. Never once, in my adult life, have I allowed myself to drink to excess.” “Nothing half that exciting happened at my school, you know, aside from those unfounded rumoursthat one of them was going to marry Indian Royalty. Nor did anything happen in finishing school. Iwish I had a riveting tale to tell you.” “No need,” Felton shook his head. “In case His Grace has not told you, I had a fascinatingconversation with him last night. He—”

“Please,” Esther rushed to stop him. “I know what happened; he told me this morning, but I want youto know that nothing he said has or will have any impact on what we have. I am sorry he did that, andplease know that he does not speak for me.” Felton’s eyes silently traced over her face, and instead of saying anything regarding her statement, heonly squeezed her hand in agreement. “How about we recreate one of your best childhood momentstoday?” “And what would that be?” His grin was a bit feline, “We shall wait to see.” Half an hour later and after the sled had made its way through a good part of the park, Esther pattedanother lump of snow on the snowman that she and Felton had hobbled into some semblance to ahuman figure. Its base round was more oval than circular, its top half a square, and it's head amisshapen clump. “And for the finishing touches,” Felton handed her some sticks. “His arms.” Taking the sticks, Esther giggled and stuck both on either side, then stood aside to admire theircreation, “I think, My Lord, that we have successfully made the worst looking snowman in the historyof our land.” Standing beside her, Felton cocked his head, “I don’t think it is that bad.” But then, the top half of the snow-creation begun to slide, taking the head with it, and before eitherFelton or Esther could react—it toppled over and splattered on the ground.

“…I stand corrected,” Felton replied dryly as he gazed at the heap of mulch. “It is a disaster.” Giggling, Esther leaned into his side, and Felton found that he liked having her at his side. Herefrained from resting a hand on her back as his glove was wet but shifted a little so she could stillrest upon his side. Esther twisted her head to look at him, and Felton found himself frozen where hestood, gazing into her glimmering eyes. The urge to kiss her lips gripped him hard, but instead of meeting her lips, brushed his mouth acrossher temple, and mourned that he was not able to taste her lips, “Shall we go and skate, My Lady?” “We shall.” Extending his hand, Felton leaned in his ear, “About that Christmas Ball of yours…” *** That evening, as Felton sat before the fire and nursed a glass of wine, he thought about what he hadpledged to Esther earlier that day, about attending her family’s ball. He had not brought up the subjectof Vauxhall because he had to know what Catherine would say. Esther had proven herself an adept skater, moving over the Serpentine River's ice at Hyde Park likeshe had been born with skates on her feet. They had an enjoyable time, but the best one was themoment she had nearly fallen, and he had caught her, spinning her on her skates just a little andhearing her laugh joyously.

Now that he was away from her, he kept debating on what to do with Esther, and though his emotionsabout her were changing into something more—and dare he said tender—but again, he had neverplanned to love anyone. If Catherine told him that the Duke had broken her heart, nothing would stophim from avenging her. There was still no notice from his Mother about Catherine coming home, so the best he could do waswait. Felton was piercing through his plan—a rash, foolish one, to be sure—but as he had alreadystarted it, all he could do was to see it through. He had not thought of the lasting effects; as he was bound to be in London for the rest of his life, howcould he avoid running into the Duke? And then, what would he say? Was he Arthur Morgan, or washe Felton Gale? Moreover, how long could the seduction of Lady Harewood have stayed a secret?And worst of all, if he had failed this harebrained quest, shame would have fallen on his familythicker and blacker than oil. He had to tell the Harewood family the truth inevitably, but he needed to say it to Esther first. Heimagined that she would be the most understanding and would not hate him for it. Felton was not surethat the Duke, on the other hand, would understand that he had done all he had, because his sister hadbeen wronged. If all things went well, he would apologize and leave, and hopefully, there will be peace between thefamilies, what again if that did not happen, he would take all the blame and leave his family. But what if things went right? Could this arrangement between Esther and me become somethinggood? Felton wanted to believe it, but it was going to be hard to do so because he had spun a thick andtangled web of lies. Sometimes he wondered who he indeed was, Felton Gale or Arthur Morgan?

No matter how he twisted the problems around, none of them straightened themselves into an answer,and he had come to accept it. He soon put the empty glass away and went to the bedside, peeling thebanyan away as he went. Under the thick blankets, Felton’s hand drifted to the scars on his chest and abdomen, tracing over thehorrid scars. His body was another reason he had told himself that marriage was not for him—whatwoman would like to wake to the collage of scars on his body? No one is who, which is why I should do what I can to help my family then move off to live alone. The dour emotion kept his heart cold through the night and to the next morning. And when he woke,the feeling swam to the forefront of the mind, but it did not burn did not scar him as much as it had lastnight. Felton was not alarmed about the sudden change, and it was probably for the best to know andacknowledge that he had dug himself into a hole, and it would be a damn hard thing to climb out of it. Felton felt a bit numb when he sat up, but did away with his sheets and went about his morningroutine, jaded. After only drinking one cup of coffee and trying to ignore the dates on the newspaper—December twenty-first—he headed out, taking a horse out to London. He had nowhere particular togo, but he was restless and could not stay still. Two stark options about his situation were in his mind; if Catherine told him she was hurt, he wouldgrit his teeth and repay the family the full amount of grief they had given her. If Catherine were not ashurt at all, he would come clean to Esther, apologize and try to mend something that was made onlies. The truth was, Esther was haunting him. He could barely think without his mind snapping to her, and

his dreams had taken a curious turn—instead of bombed fields and shattered ships, he saw alabasterskin and lust-filled green eyes. He woke up with his body thrumming with lust and a cock-standharder than steel. He had not acted on the temptation to pleasure himself because it felt wrong knowing where he stoodwith the lady. It was perverse to use her for pleasure when he had planned to use her forrevenge. InGreen Park, he found himself doing a few runs to keep his mind focused on anything but Esther,Caroline, and the Duke. Changing direction, he headed off towards his home because if he went to his mother’s house andCatherine was not there, he was liable to go to Bath and find her himself. But as soon as she camehome, he would be on his mother’s doorstep. He arrived at the apartment and, after sending the horseback to the stable, went inside while brushingsnow from his lapels. “Good morning, My Lord,” the footman bowed. “A parcel was received for you from LadyHarewood. It is placed in your study.” “Thank you,” Felton said, then took the stairs to the rooms above, and found himself dreading openingthe package. On his desk was a box wrapped with suede, and he opened it with trepidation; laying inside were aset of simple but elegant cufflinks, a silk cravat, and a pin that was the same style of the cufflinks. Theapprehension in his chest vanished because he had feared that she had sent him something personal. But still, he sank to the chair and, with an elbow braced on the arm of the chair, rubbed his forehead.Things were getting so murky, and the lines were being blurred beyond recognition. Closing the box,his head fell back, and his eyes clenched tightly—Catherine, Catherine held the key to all his misery,

and she was away from him. There are three days to Christmastide—unless they had run off to Gretna Green, she will be homefor me to question her. The realization that he still had to wait, soured Felton's stomach. Three days seemed as daunting as ahundred years—but what could he do? He had to wait… even it tore him apart during the process. *** Seated in a window seat, Esther closed The Countercharm and placed her palm flat on the backcover. In the end, Adelaide had found true love, and Esther hoped that soon, she would too. Her mindflitted to Captain Morgan and wondered if he had received the gift she had sent. Her lips ticked down for a moment with regret that she had not been able to send him somethingpersonal as everything she had considered—a bauble, a trinket, and even one of her kerchiefs—allfelt trite. She hoped the jewellery would not be taken as her trying to match his gift. Lifting her hand, her fingers traced the circlet on her wrist, and she smiled. At that point, she couldnot see herself with anyone else than him. Even if the Captain did not accept them—which she couldnot see why—she did have more to offer—her heart. Because she did have something to offer to him—her heart. Esther remembered just a day ago,building the snowman with Captain Morgan; it had been something utterly juvenile that she wouldhave never expected him to indulge in—but he had done it. She remembered looking up to him as hegazed upon their lopsided creation with silent pride.

His expression then, still somewhat stoic; but Esther had seen through it and the underlying gleam ofhappiness in his eyes. She knew that Captain Morgan would not be the man he was without his self-control and his reserve, but she knew one more thing; the man was alone. All the tales he told her about his family, about being the only son to a father who had died early on,said to her that loneliness had been a part of his make-up from when he was a child. Who was there tolove him? Who was there to show him that there was more to life than just survival and fleeting day today happiness? In that moment, gazing up at his relaxed jaw and happy eyes, Esther had known—without a shadow ofa doubt, she had entirely and inescapably in love with Captain Morgan. I just hope he won't turn me away. “Ah, Ether,” John’s voice cut through her thoughts, and she turned to him. He walked in, while fixinghis cuffs, “I’ve been looking for you. Since the other day when you emphatically told me not tointerfere with your affairs without prior notice, I am telling you this now. I am going to London to theNaval Office. I want a check upon this Captain of yours.” Esther nearly tumbled off the window seat in her rush to get to John. “No!” She said, while rightingherself. “Why would you do something as underhanded as that!” His brow ticked up, “To make sure he is not a charlatan or a fortune seeker. If his finances are in theruin, what better way to climb out of it than marrying a Duke’s sister?”

Chapter 12 “A windfall!” Esther gaped. “Is that all you think I’m worth to him!” “Is it?” John pressed. “Tell me, Esther, has he told you that he loves you? Any pledges of undyingaffection or commitment? Has he given you any indication about what you mean to him?” Esther was so incensed, she nearly screamed, but under all her anger, John’s words had carved out acold pit of hollowness in her stomach. No, Arthur had not said anything to that tune, but the man wasreserved. He had told her that sentiment did not come to him quickly—but that did not mean he feltnothing for her. Or does it? “No,” Esther replied sullenly. “But that does not mean you get to pick the poor man apart and treathim like a criminal. Arthur risked his life to save us, and he deserves more respect and trust than that!Goodness gracious, John! You told me that you met him at your gentleman club and that he wasthinking about me. Arthur has suffered through war. Do you know what seeing such carnagerepeatedly does to a man? No, you nor I do, not. He told me that affectionate emotions were beatenout of him during his stay in France. Will you please leave the man alone?” John did not look pleased, and Esther took his hesitation to convince him further, “Please, for me, donot do this.” His lips formed a hyphen, then he rubbed the side of his neck, “I would love to do so, Esther, but itwould be negligent of me not to make sure all is right.”

She bit back the irritation sparking at her chest, because she could see that John was wavering, “Doyou distrust my judgment?” “It is not as precise as I would want it to be…” John replied, “but no. You have always had a goodsense when it comes to people.” Sensing victory, Esther came to him and grasped his hand, “Please, do not do this. Everything will befine. Believe me; it will.” Giving her a slanted smile, John conceded, “Fine, I won't prod into the good Captain’s affairs, but Iwould like a good sign of commitment about his intentions for you from him soon.” Relieved, Esther nodded, “Just be patient, John.” “I’m off to London anyway,” John said, “I might be out late. Tell Mother not to worry.” “Mother and I are very versed when it comes to you being away for hours of the night,” Estherlaughed. “Don’t worry about that, but since we were on the topics of suitors, this Gale lady, was ither finances that turned you away?” “No,” he looked over his shoulder. “Her brother is an Earl, and they have sufficient money; it wassomething else.” Frustrated for another reason, Esther pressed, “Will you ever tell me why?”

“I don’t see the point,” John waved lazily. “It's already done; what point is there into bringing up theold matter. I’ll see you tomorrow, Esther.” Tempted to roll her eyes at his back, Esther collected her book, went to her rooms, and placed herprecious book on the table. John was still cagey about why he had ended his courtship, and though itbothered her, what did anger her was his impertinence; how dare he investigate Arthur as if the manhad not had enough taken from his life. Now, he had to give up his privacy as well? Surely not. Arthur is a good man. John might have his doubt, but I do not, and to prove it to my dearbrother…. Turning, she rang for her maid, and when Margaret appeared, Esther smiled, “Send for my carriage,Margaret, and then, find me a lovely dress. I have a visit to make…” *** Esther’s wide eyes traced over the front façade of Captain Morgan’s home with a little dizzy as thesimple home that he lived in, but why the surprise? Arthur was a simple, unpretentious man; whywould he live in luxury? “My Lady,” Margaret said, while gazing out as well, “are you sure about this?” “I am,” Esther replied, as the driver came down and opened the door for her. After helping her andMargaret out, she walked to the door and knocked. Soon a footman opened it and stepped away to bow, “Good afternoon. May I help you, Miss?”

“My name is—” “Esther?” Arthur’s shocked voice had her looking over the footman’s shoulder to him. He was standing away from them, in buff trousers and shirtsleeves with astonishment on his face.Addressing the footman, he said, “Thank you, Stevens, I’ll take it from here.” Bowing away, the footman disappeared around a corner, and Arthur held the door open. “Esther,what are you doing here? Not to say that I do not want to see you, but this is surely a surprise.” Reaching up, Esther pulled the tie of her bonnet, “I apologize for the unexpected interruption, but Ineeded to speak with you. My brother has gotten it into his head to investigate you as if you were ablackguard. How foolish it that.” Arthur’s unshakeable face stayed true, “I wouldn’t blame him. But before we get into that discussion,please follow me so we can sit. And I apologize, welcome to my home, Miss Smith.” Before he led them upstairs, Arthur directed a maid to prepare refreshment and then led them to aquaint room that looked larger than it did because of the wide-open windows. “Please, sit,” he gestured to the chairs. While they did, he stood, “So, His Grace had concerns about me?”

“Yes,” Esther huffed, “and it’s unreasonable. Why would he want to poke into your affairs when youhave nothing to hide? You just came from the worst, unimaginable situation one could ever be in. Heis only rubbing salt into a wound.” Arthur crossed his arms over his chest and looked thoughtful. “Even so, His Grace is doing what isright. I am unknown to him, and your position is very precarious. Esther, there are many men out therewho would take advantage of your status and wealth. The fortune you hold is enough to have fortune-seekers coming to you in droves. Perhaps I should speak to His Grace and set his mind at ease.” Esther shared an impressed look with Margaret, then faced Arthur with a beaming smile, “I don’tthink you need to. Just by saying that, you tell me you have nothing to hide. I managed to persuade himnot to do it, and I think he will not meddle any more.” “Still,” Arthur stressed. “I do thank you for telling me, but you know you could have sent me a letterabout it.” Face reddening, Esther’s eyes dipped to her skirt, “Erm…” He threw his head back and laughed— the first time Esther had heard him do so—and the sound; richand melodic. Her embarrassment began to peter away just as his mirth did. “Are you laughing at me?” She said, eyes narrowing. “Only a little,” he replied, eyes glimmering. “Don’t fret; we can clear this all up today. Let me getdressed and—”

“No,” Esther shook her head. “John is going to be out all night, and if history proves right, half theday tomorrow. So, it makes no sense to go to him today. I’ll send you a note when you can speak withhim.” After a polite knock, Arthur stepped aside to let the maid settle the tea tray on the coffee table. Hethanked her and then invited her and Margaret to ask for what they would like. On the table werecrumpets, butter, preserves, slices of cake, and a kettle of tea. Margaret sipped her tea while Esther spoke to Arthur, “My brother is one to worry needlessly. I stilldo not think you need to go see him.” His broad hands reached out and clasped both of hers in a warm hold, and his gaze was even morecomforting. “He is rightfully worried, Esther. I would be, too, if I were in his shoes. It is going tomake him comfortable, and you as well. It is the only honorable thing to do.” The warmth in his eyes made the little tumult in her heart settle, “I know it is, just as I know youwould not shy away from doing what you think is right.” Emotion flashed across his eyes, quicker than Esther could catch, and soon, was gone, leaving himsmiling calmly, “Now, let's talk about the other reason you came to see me…” *** When Esther’s carriage trundled off, Felton turned to the stairs and took the steps three a time. Devil and damnation! John is looking into me—and thank god Esther had managed to dissuade

him from going to the Naval office to find more about me, but how long will that hold? He knew he had to act fast—but blast it, still no notice from his Mother about Catherine’s arrivalhome. What could he do now? He had to find Catherine even if it meant driving hours to Bath.Dressing quickly, he sent for his carriage, with the first stop going to be at his mother’s house to getthe address of where Catherine and her maids were staying before heading out. He donned his waistcoat and jacket while sending for his carriage. As soon as the carriage camearound, Felton gave the driver the address, urging him to get there as quickly as possible, then hoppedinto the vehicle. Closing the door behind him, he checked his time on his watch. It took him seventeen minutes to the dot for him to get to his mother’s house, and when he arrived, heordered the driver to stay as he did not expect the visit to be extended. He stepped out and strode tothe door, knocked quickly and after the footman admitted him, nodded and strode to his mother’sdrawing-room. “Mother, sorry for the interruption, but I need the address of the place Catherine is—” he jerked to astop at seeing Catherine sitting there. “Catherine, you’re home.” She cocked her head as if she saw something strange, “Of course I am. I came home a day ago, but Iwould have been here earlier if I hadn’t been persuaded to see the healing springs.” The door behind him opened, and Lady Dorothea came in, her hands grasping her shawl, “Felton!What is the rush?” He pivoted, “I came to ask you where Catherine was at Bath, as I need to speak with her about DukeAyles. Mother, you remarked on His Grace and Catherine that I could not ignore, and it's beenbothering me ever since.”

Catherine’s gaze shifted between the two, “And what would that comment be, Mother?” “She mentioned that your time with the Duke was a passing fancy, but when I arrived, I know that Isaw pure distress in your eyes; you were crying, Catherine, but I need to know, did he break yourheart? Or are you just ashamed that he broke the courtship?” Her face reddened, “Why do you want to know?” Because I have one chance to ruin him by ruining his sister, if not, I’ll find a way to confess it allto Esther. “You are my sister,” Felton said. “If I have grounds to call the man out for a dawn appointment, Iwill.” Catherine’s slim shoulders sagged, and she lifted her head. “You needn’t do that, Felton. Mother isright, and I was more ashamed than devastated, and shamefaced than shattered. His Grace’s attentionmade me shine. I felt, I suppose, valuable to him.” Felton’s jaw clenched tightly while the ramifications of what he had done, this scheme to get back tothe Duke was a mistake as he had feared, began to settle inside his chest. He knew that as soon as heleft the house, the guilt he could feel that had started to build for days now, would come crashingdown on his heart. “You do not need a Lord, any Lord to feel valuable, Catherine,” Felton said. “You are a treasure inyourself, and I do not want you to think you need the attention from a man to feel special.”

She reached out to touch him, “I know, and since Lord Camden and I have been speaking, I realizethat I do not need a lord to validate me. He makes me feel like the woman I know I am, without theglamour and titillation of being the envy of the ton.” “You like Rawden, then,” Felton nodded. Catherine nodded a little, and her cheeks flushed with pink, “Very much.” “He’d be the most fortunate man in London to have you,” Felton said as he stood. “Now that I knowhow you truly feel about him, my soul is at ease.” Liar. I am in more tumult than I have ever been. The rustle of his mother’s skirts and her soft exclamation had him facing her. Lady Dorothea foldedher hands on her dresses, “Pardon me, Felton, but it seems to me that your rush over here wasdisproportionate to the answer you sought. You could have taken my word for it.” Holding his composure intact, Felton inclined his head, “It may seem so, Mother, but I truly wasworried. Now at that I know Hinds is erasing the lingering pain from Ayles, I am much morecomforted.” “But would you have gone to Bath to get that response?” Lady Dorothea asked. “That is what I meant.You would travel hours just to get an answer that was essentially the same one I told you. Why was itso important to hear it from Catherine?” While itching and desperate to leave, Felton kept his act in place, “Wasn’t defending my sister's

honour enough?” “It is, but you would have done that weeks ago when you first heard,” Lady Dorothea said calmly. “Idare say you would have called him out for the duel the next day. Were you stewing over this foralmost a month?” Pressing his lips tight, Felton decided that enough was enough—he had to leave. “I don’t understandwhy you think there could be another reason.” Crossing her leg, Lady Dorothea rearranged her shawl, “Because I know you, son. You do not tend tomull over things for hours, much less days or weeks. You rush into things head-first, then find yourselfup upended.” Right in one—I am over my head in this situation with Esther. “That may be,” he said, “But caring for Catherine is, and was, the truth of my concern. Now, if you’llexcuse me…” he headed to the door. “… and Catherine, I will be speaking to Hinds one day.” He made it to the doorway before Lady Dorothea called at his back. “What are you not telling us,Felton?” Resting his hands on the doorjamb, Felton looked over his shoulder, “Nothing.” Felton could feel two sets of eyes on his back but could not turn back to meet the question that bothheld. He had to get back to his home and figure out what to do with Esther, before the Duke managedto unearth who he indeed was. There was going to be a ball at her home in two days, and he wasinvited.

Perhaps I will confess it all then, and she will hate me for it. Can I live with that The carriage had not moved as he had planned to make the visit short, get the address in Bath and thengo there, but now that he did not need that trip, he told the driver to go back home before boarding it. Inside, he pressed his hands to his eyes. God, he had genuinely rushed into this and landed upside-down. From a fake persona that he had used to gain the lady’s attention, he had gone off to make a lifethat was slowly eclipsing his actual existence. Sitting up, he rubbed his face; it was plain now, he had to confess all to Esther—but when? TheChristmastide ball at her home? Vauxhall? When the Duke exposed him? When?

Chapter 13 Felton was not enjoying the ball in the slightest. Everything around him was stunning and elegant,halls dotted with sprigs of holly and mistletoe. The ballroom was winter-themed, with hangings ofwhite and silver; three large chandeliers glistened above. Gilt dripped from the candle sconces on thepatterned walls, the dance floor was a seamless slab of Italian marble, and waiters weaved throughthe gathering with flutes of champagne. Tossing back another glass of drink, Felton prayed that the bloody ball would end, or the men whoundressed Esther with their eyes would fall into the chasm of hell. His gut tightened as he caught sight of Esther, in the middle of the ballroom, surrounded by a circle ofadmirers, most of them male. She was laughing, wearing a gown that made Felton want to strip off hisjacket and find four more to cover her with. The dress was a dream of pale soft blue-green silk, with seed-pearl dotted here and there to give thesubtle, swirling effect of snow drifting down. The bodice left her shoulders bare, clinging to herbosom and tightly cinched waist, while her full skirts cascaded to her matching dark blue slippers. When he had first watched her descending the staircase to greet their arriving guests, Felton had feltaffixed to his spot on the floor, struck through with a lightning bolt of awareness. Esther was beyondgorgeous, and the contrast of her cool skin and passionate red hair cascading over her shouldercaused his blood to heat. She was doing her role as a gracious hostess—he knew that—but Devil and damnation, did the menaround her have to look like rabid wolves on the prowl? He wanted to march over there and claimher—but then, was she his? Cursing under his breath, he snagged another glass of champagne andstewed in his unwarranted possessiveness.

He knew one kiss did not give him rights to her, mainly when he knew that kiss was done to seduceher for the wrong reasons. Felton had to pretend the men did not bother him. He should be pleasedthat Esther was glowing under their interest—but he wanted her to shine under his attention. Felton did not know when he could take her aside to confess all he had done—but was this the time?Could he break her heart on the happiest day of the year? His eyes flicked over to her, and turmoil raged inside; the caustic mix of shame, guilt, lust, andprotectiveness had him feeling everything but happiness, and he wanted to snarl in frustration. Hewanted to march over there, lift her over his shoulder and carry her out; he was not going to cause ascandal and give their damned guests something to titter over tea for days to come. Felton looked over to see a lord kissing her gloved hand, and the delicate glass was nearly crushedunder his fist. Throwing back the rest, he placed the glass on the tray of a passing waiter and turnedhis back to the spectacle that made his blood boil. I must tell her the truth. Maybe explain that I did not want her to know my real name because ofthe situation between her brother and my sister. That I did not want her to make the wrongassumptions because of my name? The excuse felt a little flat even in his mind, and Felton felt at a loss to find the correct words. Whatwould he say when the right moment came about? While raking over his mind to find the words, the gentle touch on his arm almost made him flinch, buthe managed to turn and face Esther with a forced smile—a smile he knew she saw right through. “If you scowl any more, your face will be fixed that way,” she teased lightly.

Sighing heavily, Felton covered her hand with his, “Pardon me for not liking the way those men werepanting after you like dogs in heat. I—” he grimaced, biting back the words he wanted to say, “—wish they wouldn’t.” Esther cocked her head to the right and smiled, “You have nothing to worry about. I hardly noticethem anyhow.” Extending his arm to her, Felton felt pleased when she took it, and they walked to the dance-floor.“You are radiant, Esther.” A faint blush tinged her cheeks, “And you carry a rather menacing debonair air to you with this allblack.” “Not true,” he said, briefly touching his cravat. “This proves you wrong, and again, thank you for sucha lovely gift.” She turned in his arm and rested her fingertips on the stark white cravat and the silver pin in it with asmile, “I found myself flailing in finding a good gift to you for all the presents you gave me,” she said.“Nothing felt right; nothing of mine that I picked up, no bauble, no trinket, nothing felt fitting. I had tofind something and a master tailor on Bond Street and Rundell were the answer.” Taking her hand, Felton replied, “You were not beholden to repay me. I gave those gifts because…”an itch on the back of his neck, the prickle of eyes on them, had Felton pulling away. “…please, let’sfind somewhere private.” “I know the best place,” Esther said while turning and walked with him to a small balcony off thenorth end of the ballroom. They passed the refreshment area, now steaming new delicacies, and

Felton paused to grasp two glasses of water for them. The balcony was cordoned off with thick burgundy drapes drawn, and the doors flung open to them.The balcony was glassed in with panes frosted from the cold outside. Felton rested the glass on the window’s ledge then turned. “I gave those gifts because it is tough forme to express emotion. I have had to stifle my feelings for years, especially fear. If the enemy saw aflicker of fear on my face, my life would already be over—and suppression became a habit. I wish Icould put words to the emotion in my heart—but it is going either divine intervention or the passing oftime, and I—” he breathed. “I do not know which will be first, just as I fear that you will not bearwith me during it all.” His words were rough with emotion; he saw it resonate with Esther. Her hand lifted then dropped,“Arthur—” God, I suddenly hate that name. “—did you just somehow say… you would like to be with me?” She finished with disbelief ringing inher words. He swallowed over a tight throat, as Felton felt that he might be digging his own grave. “In so manywords.” To his shock, he saw the bead of tears in her eyes. Esther placed the glass down and rested her handson his shoulders. “I know, dear God, I see how you struggle. And you need to know that I translateyour gifts, Arthur. Hold my words as true, as long as you need me; I will be there for you. I—I loveyou.”

Does she love me? A liar and a charlatan? Esther’s tender words were a heated spear ramming through his guilt-laden heart. Felton pressed ahand to his eyes, “I do not deserve you.” Her hands slipped away from him, “Why do you think so?” “I—” he paused, warring with himself. He had the perfect time to confess all that was brewing in hisheart, but he could not bring himself to utter the words. “It is going to take me a long while to explain,and we do not have time for it. Your heartfelt words rest with me, Esther, and please know that I amnot brushing them off; I just need to find the words to say. Until I do, let's rejoin the ball.” Esther’s face fell a little, but she nodded, “Sure.” They took the unused glasses back to the tables and set them apart to be washed. As they left the nook,the Duke of Ayles met them. “Esther?” Duke Ayles’ astonished voice had Felton bracing himself. John’s eyes flicked from hissister to him “And Captain Morgan.” There was no variance in the man’s tone from when he greeted his sister, but Felton felt there wasmore to his salutation. Regardless, he needed to get an issue between them out of the way. “Your Grace,” he bowed his head, then exploited a revised tactic he had learned from his years ofwar, “I have come to know that you’ve expressed an interest in my personal affairs. If you would like,we could arrange a meeting so we can discuss it?”

The Duke’s cheekbones tinged, and while his gaze flickered to a silent Esther, then back to Felton, heshook his head, “No, no. It's quite all right. We have no reason to do so.” Altercation avoided…for now. “As you wish, Your Grace,” he said. “My compliments on your lovely ball.” “That is all my mother’s doing,” John replied. “But I will take the good wishes on her behalf. Please,enjoy the rest of the evening.” He did not spare a second look before he hurried off, and Felton breathed out in relief. Esther gavehim a brimming smile, “See, I knew he would not push.” I am still not so convinced. The usher called for a dance, and Felton said, “On that note, would you care to dance?” “I would.” She gave him a cheeky look. “And while we dance, you may have that time to conjure yourwords of undying adoration to me.” Laughing, he led them to the dance-floor, and the moment she went into his arms, the room and thosein it seemed to fade. He danced to the beat of his heart, rather than that of the symphony, and theymoved together in perfect unison.

They did not speak, not for the lack of words on Felton's part, but more so that he was trying to readthe emotions flickering through her eyes. And what he did decipher did not sit well with him—all hecould see was pure, unfettered adoration aimed at him. Only to make him feel like mud and muck inthe streets. When the dance ended, the urge to both kiss her and fall to her feet and beg her forgiveness, bothassaulted him, but he pulled away and bowed. And coming up, uttered, “Thank you.” She smiled and took his arm, and while he led her to the seat, noticed a few ladies standing by apotted palm and fluttering their fans—their eyes were on him. Was he gaining the attention of thewrong sort? Notedly, anyone who hovered in the Duke's sphere and his family would draw attention,but Felton could not do with such scrutiny now. He got her to her seat and nodded to her faithful maid, then moved away. He needed a moment tohimself, a few minutes to come to grips with what had happened only a quarter an hour before and theconfessions he and Esther had shared. He found himself back on that same balcony. Now, the turmoil in his heart was not if he shouldconfess; it was how he should admit his faults? There would be little time that night, and he supposedthe best opportunity would be at Vauxhall the next night. Pressing his forehead on the cold glass, he steeled himself—he only had to survive that night and thenext, come hell or high water; he was going to bare his fragile soul to Esther and hope she did notcrush it. ***

“My Lady?” Margaret asked quietly, “Are you all right?” Esther pulled her gaze away from the direction Arthur had left towards and faced her maid. Her mindflickered to the tortured look on Arthur’s face when he had confessed his fault at being romantic andhis fears about her leaving him before he would become the man she wanted from him. “Mostly,” Esther said as she dug into her reticule and fished out her fan. Though she did not need it,Esther needed to keep her hand busy, and to fan herself was the only distraction she could think about. “I’m concerned about Arthur. You know that John was about to pick Arthur apart yesterday, and just awhile ago, Arthur offered to have a sit-down with him to show that he has nothing to hide. I am in aweof him, Margaret. He had constantly shown me that he does not shy away from facing difficultcircumstances and is an honourable man.” Nodding, Margaret added, “I can see that. I supposed his past occupation had forced him to face adaunting situation with bravery.” “…I told him I love him, Margaret,” Esther confessed, and strangely felt pleased when her confidantedid not look surprised. She was sure that Margaret knew how she felt about the Captain long beforeshe had concluded it herself. “And though he did not repeat the words, I have this feeling that he loves me too. Call me fanciful, butI have gotten to read Arthur’s eyes when his face is expressionless. I know he holds me, dear, I heardit in his words, and though I would want to hear it, I’ll take the fact that he shows it to me.” Reaching over, Margaret held Esther’s hand, “I hope he does soon too, My Lady. I feel that you willmake him know what happiness is, because I feel that, and pardon me if this is too bold, but I havethis deep impression His Lordship has few people to trust and to lean on.”

“He does not,” Esther replied, proud that Margaret had picked up on the same knowledge aboutArthur that she knew to be true. “And now, I think if given him a reason to trust me, and I think, in aday or two, I might be the happiest woman in London.”

Chapter 14 When Arthur came back to her, Esther saw that his armour's figurative cracks had been sealed. Hisexpression was calm and controlled while he sat near her. “I apologize,” he said evenly. “I needed a moment to collect myself.” “I understand,” Esther replied, kindly. “I don’t blame you—I was a little shaken as well. Behind her, she heard the musicians start up another dance. Esther smiled sweetly. “I am so glad youreturned in time for another dance. Or would you prefer to wait for this one out?” “If you don’t mind, I’ll wait for the last,” Arthur replied. “I think we should converse a little. Youhave not told me the four traits you admire in a man.” “Does it matter?” Esther said, “You have all of them, honesty, bravery, valour, strength, and humility.You agreed to fight for our land, so you have courage, you fought in the war, you are brave, and notonce have I seen you shrink from facing a challenge. And you do not put on airs, Arthur. Never oncehave I heard you using your time in the war as boasting.” His lips ticked down, and displeasure added a line to his mouth, “For good reason, I want to put thetime in the war behind me. It is not a time I want to remember; yes, it has shaped me in many ways,but it is nothing to use against anyone.” “Which is why I admire you,” Esther replied.

His mouth worked a little, and more than once, she saw that he was about to say something, but he cutit off. Esther was about to ask, when she saw his eyes flicker to Margaret, her silent companion, andrealized that the words on his tongue were ones he wanted only her to hear. Turning to Margaret, she asked. “Margaret, would you please get me a glass of water? I am a bitparched. Arthur, would you like anything?” “No, thank you,” he said. Standing, Margaret curtsied, “Yes, My Lady.” When she moved off, Arthur turned appreciative eyes to her, “You pick on the smallest hints, do younot? I want to ask you, to come with me to Vauxhall tomorrow evening.” Glancing over her shoulder to see if Margaret was coming, she said, “I don’t know, Arthur. I haveheard whispers about that place, and none of them are good. Isn’t it called a pleasure garden for areason? Mother would never let me go there.” He dared to brush his fingers across her cheek, before taking her hands, “Think about it, I just need tohave you to myself alone and away from the judging eyes of others.” Spotting Margaret coming to them, Esther pledged, “I’ll send word if I can.” He did not pull away until Margaret joined them, “Here you go, My Lady.”

Retracing her hands, she took the drink, “Thank you.” Without prodding, Arthur told her about a quaint village in Africa where the locals had given themfood when their stores had run empty and the lovely Spanish town where music was always in thestreets. Enraptured, Esther barely noticed when the last dance was called before supper and when Arthurswept her off to the floor, his compelling gaze shifted from hers only a few times to dip to her lips. Atime or two or three, his flat palm had caressed her spine the tiniest bit. Those involuntary hints toldher that he wanted her—just as much as she wanted him. When the dance ended, Arthur took her hand and kissed the back, “I regret it, but I will not be able tostay for dinner.” Her stomach plummeted, but at least he had come at all. “Oh, sorry to see you go. I do wish youwouldn’t.” His thumb traced over the back of her hand with tiny circles, “Hopefully, I will see you tomorrownight…?” Thinking of the activities her mother always had planned for Boxing Day, Esther began to maketentative plans on what she could do. “My Mother’s tradition is to attend church in the morning and aplay in the evening. I—I do think I can sneak out. I will send a message to you by tomorrowafternoon.” Satisfaction removed the crinkle of worry from his brow, and Arthur gifted her with a rare, heart-warming smile. “I will be looking forward to it. Good night, Esther. Give Her Grace, my regards.”

He ushered her back to her seat and said his farewells to Margaret before heading away. Esther’seyes followed him as he left and, when his back disappeared around the corner, turned to Margaret.She tore her eyes from the doorway. “I should go to dinner.” A flash of sympathy crossed Margaret’s face, “Yes, My Lady.” *** It was after midday when Esther stepped foot back in her home, faking a narrow squint to the light asshe had pleaded a headache on the way back. Her mother looked sympathetically upon her while unwrapped her shawl, “Are you sure you will notbe able to make it to the play, darling? It is a Midsummer Night’s Dream; one of your favourites.” “I know,” Esther pouted, “I do love mischievous Puck; nonetheless, I think it best for me to resttonight.” Lady Eleanor inclined her head, “I understand. Do rest, and I’ll have your dinner sent up for you.” Removing her hat, Esther embraced her, “Thank you.” Taking the stairs, she went to her bedchamber, with her stomach clenching with guilt that she had liedto her mother. But the hope of seeing Arthur later that night buoyed her spirits. Besides, a littlerebelliousness from her was due, wasn’t it? All her life, she had toed the line, now, what was one

night of taking a risk? She went to the dressing table and began to pull the pins out of her hair and sighed in relief when thethick tresses tumbled over her shoulder to mid-back. Swiftly, she found a card and wrote out a timeon it just as Margaret entered the room. “My Lady,” Margaret curtsied. “Her Grace has told me that you are not feeling well?” Spying the half-open door, Esther asked Margaret to close it, and when they were alone, she askedher friend to sit. “I’m not ill; I only said that because I needed an excuse not to go with Mother andJohn to the playhouse this evening. I’ll be going to Vauxhall with Arthur.” “Vax—” Margaret snapped her lips tightly then shook her head, and when she spoke again, her tonewas calm. “Have you thought this through? ‘Tis a hazardous and scandalous place to go, especiallyafter dark.” Sinking to the edge of her bed, Esther nodded, “I know, but I think, I think tonight will be good for me.Arthur is a good man, and you know it. He will not let anything untoward happen to me.” Her maid still looked uncomfortable, “I do not like this, My Lady.” Looking at the card in her hands, Esther tried to brush off the lingering fears she felt as well, “I knowMargaret, it is risky, but I feel it titillating, to be honest. I have not done anything as daring as thisbefore, and I think it high time to break a few rules, don’t you?” Margaret’s lips thinned, showing her displeasure, but she did not voice it. “My Lady, I stronglyadvise you to rethink this, but if you are sure, I’ll help you.”

“Good,” Esther said, the added comfort to Margaret that she would never be blamed if anything wentwrong. “Please, send this to Captain Morgan, and then, I’ll have my dinner.” After the maid left, Esther went to her wardrobe and began to look for the best dress. From what shehad heard over the years, Vauxhall on Boxing Day was a spectacle that no one should ever miss.There were acrobats, fireworks, and dancing to dawn, and the imagination of it all made a ripplingexpectancy go through Esther. When Margaret came back, Esther had three dresses on the bed. She looked up, “Is it sent off?” “Post haste, My Lady,” Margaret assured her. “Good, now help me choose the best dress,” Esther asked. *** About ten o’clock, and with Margaret’s help, Esther sneaked through a servant’s door; her headwrapped up with a scarf and her body covered with a thick coat. She was headed to the servants’ gatewhere Margaret—again—had arranged for the coachman to hitch up the small hackney carriage and towait for her there. As her feet met the cobblestone walk to the dirt lane, Esther shot a look over her head to see the darkwindow above her. Her mother and brother were out to London—and soon she would be as well. Shespotted the pacing horse at the edge of the lane and signalled to the driver. He dropped down from theseat, opened the door for her, and helped her in.

With a sigh of relief, she sat back and smiled when the carriage moved off, and she was on her way toArthur’s home. It did not take long, and when she arrived, she barely reached for the handle beforeArthur opened it for her. He held out his hand and grasped her with a firm grip, and when her feet hitthe ground, his lips met hers. The kiss went from light to hungry; his lips were hot and intense against hers; their tongues twined,stroked, suckled. Her hands clung to his shoulder, and the fingers of the others speared into his hair.She gave into his passion, to his desire and the lust twisting her insides. When Arthur pulled away, Esther was breathless, “I’ve never been greeted like that before.” “‘Tis a shame,” he said, while beckoning over his shoulder to a footman who joined her driver. Thetwo had a quick conversation before the hackney drove off. “You should be greeted like that everyday. I’m glad you came; Vauxhall awaits.” He led her to a waiting carriage and, after helping her in, closed the door behind her. Arthur unwoundthe scarf from her hair and smiled at the silver thread of pearls through her hair, and when heunbuttoned her coat, smiled even wider at the flounced carriage dress of silver-green, whichcomplimented her glossy curls and porcelain skin. “You’re the fairest creature God ever made,” he whispered while trailing his lips down her neck.“Surely you know how attracted I am to you.” Before she could respond, he took her mouth in a greedy kiss, and Esther struggled to match his zeal. When she managed to get her bearings, she sunk under the wave of passion he had. Esther should haveexpected this—she had tasted his desire back then at the musicale and had felt all the passion heldtightly under his control.

What is to say I cannot feel it too? “Tell me, Esther,” he whispered. “Have you read that novel, the one with wicked kisses?” She trembled, “Yes.” He nosed under her ear, “Did it stir anything inside you? Did you put yourself in Madeline’s place, tofeel all the bliss Nathaniel wreaked on her body? Do you want man’s lips on your body?” She trembled, so he knew she felt it too. “T’wouldn’t be right for me to say.” He laughed, “Well, would you wager that by this night, I will have you telling me all the deepest,darkest desires of yours.” “And if I do not?” Esther asked. “What prize do I receive?” Arthur laid a last kiss on her neck and set her back on the seat, “Whatever you would want from me,just name it, and you’ll have it.” A slow smile curved her lips, “I’ll surely take you up on that.” ***

Vauxhall was unimaginable. Going down the Grand Walk had Esther’s head twisting from side-to-side at the coloured lights peeking through the stately elms. It was dark, but Esther could see that theGardens' grounds were lush and expansive, and she heard the faint sound of water. Arthur’s arm was wrapped tightly around her waist and as they walked over the gravelled walk. “Themain attractions are held at the Rotunda, but we will might have to go the grounds for the fireworksand the cascade.” Livered guards were set at the Rotunda's mouth, checking for invitation and permission notes, two ofwhich Arthur produced from under his coat and waited. The grand two-story structure had Esther’shead craning to look at it. It was of white marble, and dozens of coloured globe lamps glowed fromthe edges of the dome-shaped roof. The ball had already started, and the orchestra, on the second-floor balcony, played a merry tune. Hetook her coat and handed them off to a servant, and Esther stood still as his eyes roamed over her, hisgaze thick and warm like molasses. “Stunning,” he murmured while taking her hand and spinning her, “Absolutely stunning.” He drew her to the floor, and they danced, rather sensually to Esther’s mind, as her chest was pressedfully to his, but she did not complain. With her being that close to him, his expression was the mostopen that she had ever seen. Happiness was evident on his face, and his smile grew more as they spunand swirled around the room. After three dances, Esther begged off more while laughing, “My legs are not built for the Scottish jigtwice.” Arthur grinned then, with a whoosh of her skirt, she was in his arms in a bridal hold; Esther squeaked

happily while grabbing at his shoulders. He carried her over to a chair and rested her on it. “How mischievous of you, My Lord,” she laughed. “How is it that I have never seen this side of youbefore?” Arthur shrugged, “Never had the freedom to do so. This is Vauxhall, darling; a lot of societal rulesare nonsensical here.” Reaching out, Esther cupped his cheek and smiled when he nuzzled into her palm, “I am so glad Icame.” His gaze was smouldering, and she shivered, “Not as much I am. We are going to enjoy ourselvestonight.” From dancing at the Rotunda to seated in the Chinese Pavilion, she sat in awe of the tightropewalkers. Between the temple and the fountain, the men walked on a thin rope with lit candles on theirheads and, with every pass, added more to their extended arms. Some somersaulted on the rope, andanother danced it. “My poor heart,” Esther murmured while they stood and walked to see the fireworks. While the throng meandered down a lane, Arthur led somewhere else, up another level to a privateroom, that had a wall of just glass facing the sky. It was high enough the span of the gardens and thevista she saw was magnificent. He explained that the lord who had paid for the night and the buildinghad permitted him to use the room. “Arthur?” She asked. “The fireworks?”

“We’ll see them from here,” he said as he nodded to a divan. “I want some private time with you, andthe dark walks will not give me the discretion I want.” His words made shivers run over her skin, “Discretion for what?” Arthur tugged off his jacket and dropped it over the arm of the couch. He then reached for her andreeled her in like a fish on a line, “For this.” His burning kiss seared her inside, simmered with intensity, and seduced her immediately. Matchinghis kiss, she let all her reserves go. Emboldened by the freedom that she suddenly allowed, the loveand lust she felt for him to overtake her. She wanted all he would give her that night. “I want to kiss you,” he murmured against her wet lips. “But you are kissing me,” Esther said, a bit confused. He shook his head, while his hand snaked up her leg, taking her dress higher, “No, I want to kiss you;a kiss that burns in my dreams. I want to be the Nathaniel to your Madeline.” The inference sank into her soul like fire to oil, setting off a heat under her skin that she could barelycontrol. Esther did not resist as he laid her on the couch, her back on the gentle slope of the arm. Hisrough hands slid her dress up and up, past her knees, over her thighs, while kissing her tender skin. Esther’s eyes clenched tight, and her breath was trapped in her chest, feeling his lips pressed on her

inner thighs, before his fingers slid over her wetness, “You’re dripping for me, sweet,” he murmured. She struggled to get a breath in her lungs, but it was quickly lost when his tongue swept over her. Thetip of his tongue circled and sucked on her pearl while Esther bucked against his mouth. She clenchedher teeth hard to stop the desperate cries bubbling in her throat. Esther’s fingers clawed at the couch beneath her while pleasure possessed her body. Arthur worked afinger into her tight sheath while suckling at her at the same time. Her slick muscles clutched at hisfinger and clamped down when he worked a second finger into her. Lost in the raw pleasure, Esther slid her fingers into his hair while cupping her throbbing breast. Helicked her, and she arched under his touch, then he shifted direction. He was over her, tugging her bodice down, and latched his hot mouth on her stiff nipple, while hisfinger kept thrusting into her. He laved her breast, taking the heavy globe into his mouth as far as hecould get. When he pulled away to kiss her neck, his words drove her harder to completion than his kisses, “Iwant to be inside you, I want to feel you around me, clenching, enveloping me, taking me to a land ofbliss…” Esther gasped and clenched hard on his fingers as she edged closer to shattering. Thinking of himinside her, thinking of his body warm and hard resting on hers, thinking of the smooth rub of his skinon hers, made her dizzy. The boom of a fire rocket had her eyes flung open; red burst across the sky just as lust was fiery underher skin. Another crack and yellow mingled with red, as her body began to lock up, and the sweetcataclysm nearly took her over.

“Come for me, love,” Arthur ordered, “Shatter over me.” Her lips parted, as his mouth latched up her pulse, and his finger brushed over a place that made hermind go white. Her mouth was opened in a wordless scream as her body clenched down on Arthur.She heard him hiss out a curse, and utter, undefinable bliss washed through her body. Clinging tightly to him, Esther shuddered through the sweet after-effects of her orgasmic rapture and,when she dared open her eyes, white fire lingered in the sky. She turned her gaze to Arthur and sawraw possessiveness in his gaze. “Arthur…?” *** My name is not Arthur. Felton felt ripped in two; he wanted to tell her the truth, tell her his real name, tell her why he hadasked the Duke for a dance with her that night. He was ready to beg for forgiveness if she needed himto, he was prepared to bare his soul to her and tell her all, but when he opened his mouth—nothingcame out. Esther was a vision under him, her hair dishevelled, her eyes wide, wet, and brimming with love. Hepulled his hand away from her and rested it beside her. Again, he made to explain himself, to tell her the truth, but instead of saying, my name is not Arthur

Morgan, it is Felton Gale, he said, “Marry me, Esther? Will you marry me?”

Chapter 15 Her mouth parted softly, and before he could say another word, she hugged him to her tightly, “Yes,God yes, I would love to be your wife.” Felton’s eyes clenched tightly; what in God’s name have I done? The soft jasmine scent of her skin was a potent aphrodisiac in his nose, and while he was recoiling atthe words he had said, his shock did not stop him from letting his lips skim over the lily-white of hershoulder. His mouth dipped to a bared breast; their blushing tips were still hard and pebbled.Suckling at one tip, he lapped softly on the underside. Kissing the skin under her collarbone, he said, “I’ve fallen in love with you, Esther. Against all myreservations, I could not stop caring for you, dreaming of you almost every night and hating the merethought of another man having you, forced me to admit what I knew—I love you.” Esther brushed a thumb over his cheekbone, “Me too.” “I know,” Felton replied hoarsely, “and I hate that I was not able to tell it to you last night because Ikept telling myself that I did not deserve you, that I was unworthy of a woman like you; that I wasjaded, damaged, a shadow of the man I once was and that nothing good would ever come my way. Ididn’t want to let myself love you.” A tear slipped from her eye, “Nothing could be further from the truth, Arthur. You are a wonderful,brave, selfless man who deserves everything, and more than life can offer.”

Felton helped her to sit up and righten her dress, “You truly think so.” “I know so,” Esther replied. “Please try to see yourself as I see you.” His head bowed, while the war to spill his deepest secrets surged up his throat. It burned him insidethat Esther saw him as a good man when he knew he was everything but. But he sucked in a silentbreath and lifted his head, giving her a weak smile, “I wish I had your faith.” “One day, you will,” Esther replied, kindly. Brushing a kiss over her forehead, Felton gathered her into his arms and shifted them, so he wasbraced on the divan’s arm, and she lay on his chest. They watched the spectacular firework showsilently but with him kissing her temple here and there, until it ended, and the sky went back to dark. Felton was loath to disturb them from the private little sliver of a world they had created forthemselves, but knew he had to get Esther back to London she could get home before her familydiscovered that she was gone. “I do not want to move, but we have to get you home,” Felton whispered. “It is getting rather late.” Esther twisted, and discontent showed on her face, “I know.” Shifting, he allowed her to stand then followed her, “I must give Lord Portland my thanks for givingme this key.”

Taking her hand, he led them down to the floor and then to where the carriages were parked. Feltonknew the time he had to confess was ticking away, but the bravery to do it was not there. Theyretrieved their coats, and after he helped her into the vehicle, joined her, only to take her on his lap. As they drove over the bridge and past London Square, Felton buried his head in the crook of hershoulder, heart beating out of rhythm because of fear. He did love Esther, but what will she do aftershe found about the wicked ruse—and he knew he could not drag the truth out much longer. The carriage arrived at his home sooner than he had liked, and as the wheels came to a stop, he knewthe hour had come. Tightening his hold for a moment, he shifted her from his lap to sit on the seatbeside him. “Esther,” he began. “I have to confess something to you… I am not who you think I am.” She drew back a little, “Beg your pardon?” Swallowing tightly, Felton admitted, “My name is not Arthur Morgan; it is Felton Gale. ArthurMorgan was an identity I used because I was hell-bent on getting revenge.” Esther withdrew her hands from his, while bewilderment covered her face, “Revenge? For what? Idon’t even know who you—” then her eyes flew wide. “—G-Gale? As in the Gales of Colborne?Related to Miss Gale? The lady my brother was courting?” “Yes,” Felton replied, feeling sick to his very core. “The very same. There are some truths to mystory; I am a Navy Captain, I have travelled the world, I do have few friends, but the reason I devisedthis scheme is because when I came home, my sister, Catherine was heartbroken over your brotherbreaking the courtship—” he raked a hand through his hair and eyes Esther with limited hope. “—andthe only way I could have seen to level the score was to break your heart as well; to show His Gracehow it felt to destroy one’s life.”

Esther was shrinking away from him, the look of bliss she had only moments ago, now being eatenaway with growing horror. “So what? Y-You were going to use me? Seduce me to show my brother how a broken heart felt?”Esther stammered. “Yes,” Felton said, “Days after that I decided, I found that my mind was starting to change; that myemotions for you were changing. That I did not want to be a scoundrel or a crook that you would hate.I—” he shook his head, knowing that the next few would not make any sense to utter as he knewEsther had withdrawn from him. “—Do love you, Esther and I beg you, please forgive me.” Helowered his head. “Please forgive me for playing upon your trust, please forgive me for thinking such an abominable actcould right another wrong. Please forgive me for thinking that you were complicit with your brother tostep over people and not care who you hurt. Please forgive me for thinking the worst of you when Iknow now that you are everything but,” he swallowed over the burning chest, “Please forgive me forlies, the deception, all of it.” His soul was open and raw, and his words were laden with honesty, but Esther was already gonefrom him. Her defences were up, and she was pulling away, emotionally, and when he reached out,she yanked her hand away from him. “D-Don’t you dare touch me,” she snapped. “Esther—”

She scrambled for the door and pushed it open, nearly tumbling out of the carriage head-first, butlanded on her feet and ran. Felton was a second behind her and dashed to her when she darted to thestables behind the house and yanked the door of her hackney-styled carriage. It did not open before hegot to her, and she spun to him with fury across her face. “Do not dare touch me, you damned swine!” She yanked the door open and hopped in, while thedriver, who had been slumbering on a cot in the stable, scuffled past Felton and jumped unto his seat.Felton reached for the handle but stopped. He had to let her go—probably for good, but he had expected that from the day he had realized thathis emotions for Esther were not as black and white as he had expected. So, he stepped away and letthe carriage drive away, the ache in his heart, now a hollow crater in his chest. Retreating to his home, Felton climbed the stairs almost blindly. He stumbled into the bedchamberwhile tugging his coat off. He dropped it over a chair’s back and sank into it, with his head starting tohurt. If Esther told her brother—and he knew she would—would it be better to go to him first andconfessed it all before the Duke came to him? Will she ever forgive me? Rubbing his face, Felton de-robed and, going to the annex room, washed his face with icy waterbefore going to bed—knowing that he was not going to sleep. He tried to think of the blissful look when she had come apart under his touch, but soon thosememories morphed into the horrified look stamped on Esther’s face when she had realized who hewas. When she had jerked away from him, his heart had been sliced in two. But if I feel this way, hurt by her rejection, how much worse does she feel, broken by mydeception?

*** Unbearable pain ricocheted from Esther’s bruised heart to her numb mind and back again. Shehunched over and pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes, trying to stem the tears that flowed—butto no avail. Arthur—no, not her beloved Arthur—Felton, a despicable cad, had planned to use herand discard her after he had gotten revenge for his sister. She could not pass the betrayal, the horrifying revelation of why he had sought her out—not becauseof her beauty or her status, but as a target for retribution. Futilely, she tried to wipe the tears away,but they kept coming—and Esther knew why. I love him…no-no! I loved Arthur; that cad Felton is not him! Logically, she knew there had to be an overlap where Arthur and Felton met, but angry anddisconsolate, Esther could not bring herself to think that far. The hackney drove back into thetownhouse and came to rest at a stop. The driver came down and opened the door for her, and Esther wrapped her scarf around the lowerhalf of her face and slipped into the door that had been left open. Quietly, she crept up the stairs to herrooms, and in the family wing, looked down the corridor to her mother’s suite to see no lights comingfrom under the door. She’s not awake, good. Slipping into her quarters, Esther passed Margaret, who was quietly sleeping on her couch, andpeeled off her coat and scarf. She bit her lip to keep the sniffles in, but halfway through struggling

with her dress, broke down and collapsed, with her knees folded under her. Thankfully, she fell at theside of the bed and pressed her face in the thick covers, sobbing. How could he! How could he do that to me! Tears slipped under her eyelids and wetted the bed. Her visions of being married to Arthur, travellingthe world with him, building more lumpy snowmen with him…making love with him, vanished likesmoke. There would not be a future with him as there was no Arthur Morgan. Through the pain, Esther felt warm arms circle her body, and she cried even harder, knowing that sheshould have listened to John when he wanted to investigate Arthur. Perhaps it would have spared herthe pain of knowing him so much that she had fallen in love with him. There is no love; love cannot be based on deception. But why did her very soul hurt? “My Lady?” Margaret said, “What happened?” Try as she might, Esther could not bring herself to say it. When she did form words, what came outwas, “It's t-too much, too m-much.” Margaret whispered the small comforting words in her ear and did little comfort to her, and when hertears dried up, her sobs were hitching breaths in her chest. Margaret helped her disrobe, don hernightdress, and get into bed.

“Shall I get you some warm milk, My Lady?” Margaret asked quietly. “It might help you sleep.” Shaking her head, no, Esther whispered her thanks to her loyal friend then turned away. She did notneed help to sleep; she needed to forget. Subsumed by pain and agony, she slipped off into an uneasysleep. In her dreams, she saw Arthur laughing at her, but as she reached out to slap him—Felton wascrying. Waking up just as dawn was breaking, Esther remembered the tone Felton had apologized in—begging her to forgive him. It sounded like sorrow, but Esther was not going to fool herself any more;it was a mockery. She had fallen in love with him, only to have it thrown in her face. The question was, how was she going to explain it to John and her mother. Could she explain it? Tellthem that she has sneaked out in the middle of the night to go to a place that sensible misses had noright being, and then, to risk all that and get her heart broken on top of it? Was it too telling not to leave her bed that morning? She sat up and reached for her pillow butstopped—glinting at her wrist was the bracelet Felton had given her. She wanted to rip it off herhand, but slowly unhooked it and dropped it into her bedside drawer; it landed on The Lost Love;Esther slammed the drawer back in place. He said he wanted revenge for his sister’s broken heart…well, he certainly succeeded. She blinked and winced at the dryness in her eyes, and she knew they had to be red. She refrainedfrom rubbing them and irritating them further, but stayed in bed, as the thought of getting out and facingthe world was daunting. A polite knock had her looking up, but instead of Margaret, John came in. He stopped in his stride,but kept going, “Esther, I can see that you’re still not feeling, but I wanted to talk to you about Captain

Morgan. I—” “Don’t bother,” she said emptily. “You were right about investigating him, John. Captain Morgandoes not exist—his name is Felton Gale, he is the brother of the Lady with whom you broke off thecourtship.” John blinked a little, then when the words sunk in, his face went red with rage, “What?” Blandly, Esther told him about last night's ruse, how she had pretended to have a headache to go off toVauxhall with the Captain, how she had enjoyed the dancing and acrobats before the Captain had toldher why he had sought her out. “He said he loved me,” Esther added at last, then swallowed, “But it rings hollow when you knowthat one was after revenge first.” John was pacing, and his face was darkening the more he moved. Finally, he stopped, “I’ll call himout; I hope his hand is straight because I will kill him.” Lurching up, Esther called, “No, John, no! What will that help matters? No one will come out of thisunscathed. You had hurt his sister; he hurt me. The man is an army man, John, both of you will beinjured at best and dead at worst. Do not duel with him, for me, please.” “Pardon me?” Lady Eleanor said while gliding in, holding a cup of warm milk before handing it toEsther, “Who is duelling with whom?” Regrettably, Esther admitted the story back to her mother and kept her eyes away from her whiledoing it. “I’m sorry, Mother, I know it wasn’t right, but I —”

“No, no,” Lady Eleanor shook her head, then wryly added, “I was young once; I know thefoolhardiness that young love brings. But I am glad you have learned a lesson from it. Now, you’ll bewiser with the other Lords you pick.” If I get the courage to do so. “And you, John, you cannot go around willy-nilly making courtship and breaking them. CatherineGale was a lovely girl, a bit concerned with her image more than anything, but lovely nonetheless.Why did you break off the courtship?” Esther’s brows knitted, “Yes, John, why did you break the courtship?” Frustrated, John rubbed his face, “I was told that she loved another one and that I was risking thechance of marrying a woman who might use me for my status and have an affair with another.” “And was that true?” Esther asked. He shoved his hands into his buff trousers, and looked ashamed, “Not from what I’m seeing, no. Isuppose it was all a lie.” When the shock that all the pain she was feeling came from a lie, had Esther feeling the need toscream, but their mother addressed John before she could, “You did not check the truth and broke theyoung woman’s heart over a lie?

John looked ashamed, “I must admit that I too was more interested in preserving my image thanexamining if it was true or not. Miss Gale was a lovely girl, but sadly, even if she were not in lovewith another man; she is not the material I need for a Duchess. But that is neither here nor there. I amstill going to speak with Gale and tell him that if he loves all that is dear, to steer clear of you.” Esther was ready to ask him not to do it, but perhaps it was for the best. She kept quiet as John left theroom and looked down at the dregs of the milk she had drunk during her confession. “Esther, darling,” her mother said kindly. “This may be the best for you, dear. Lessons in love comein many ways. You learn by loss much as you learn by victory.” Looking up, she gave her mother a faint smile, “I suppose.” “You will be all right,” Lady Eleanor embraced her, then stood. “I know you will; you are a strongwoman.” Following her mother as she left, Esther sighed, “If only I can believe that.” *** “My Lord,” the footman called, “His Grace, Duke Ayles is here.” Closing the newspaper that he had not truly been reading, Felton stood and tugged his waistcoatdown, “Send him in.”

He waited for the Duke to come in and kept his expression stoic, as the man came in, his expressionlevel and serious. His coat was on, which showed Felton that the man was not there for conversation. “Your, Grace,” he greeted. “Captain Morgan, or should I say, Gale?” The Duke said frostily. “Esther has told me all thatoccurred last night, and I am here to give you a warning, stay away from her, or we will be meeting atdawn.” “Funny you should say that,” Felton snapped. “I should have called you out after the disgrace youlevied to my sister. Do you have any care or compassion for a woman who had set her eyes on you?Do you give a third of a damn for others, or are you just like your Mother, spreading libellousstatements about innocent women? How is it that Catherine was interested in another man while youwere courting her?” Duke Ayles lips thinned, “And was that just cause for you to try to seduce my sister? In the spectrumof things, who is the more evil one here.” Felton found his temper spiking. For this Duke to enter his home and act as if he had not done anythingwrong, Felton’s already sour mood worsened. He had lost Esther with little hope of getting her backand now, for all the blame to be put on him for everything that happened, was beyond the pale. “Answer my question before I reply to yours,” Felton said coldly. The respect he would have had forthe man was utterly gone. “Why did you break the courtship?” “Because a particular source told me that she was having an affair with another Lord, and I did notfeel it right for her to be unfaithful to either of us,” Duke Ayles said shortly.

“Utter tripe,” Felton bit back. “Catherine did not have any other Lord as a paramour. Admit it; youbroke the engagement because she was just one in a line of women that you deign to give yourattention to.” “She was a charming woman, but, in truth, I felt little for her,” Duke Ayes admitted. “Finally, the truth comes out; you threw her away because a better version was on somewhere else,”Felton said. “And to answer your question, I admit, the scheme was not fully thought out. I had thoughtthat the easiest way to teach you a lesson was to hit you close to home—” he sank into his seat. “I justnever thought I would have fallen in love with Esther.” “From now on, you will address her as Lady Harewood,” Duke Ayles said. “And if you come nearher, you’ll be locked away at Northgate faster than you could believe. Stay out of our way, and wewill stay clear of yours. There were worst penalties for your unconscionable act, and I will wieldthem, if pushed.” A hollow laugh left Felton, “The foot is on the other foot now. Fine, I’ll stay away.” Turning away, Felton swallowed over a churning stomach. The pain and reality of his situation withEsther only sank that much deeper. Now—he could not gain Esther’s affections at all. The onlywoman he loved was never going to be his—and it stung. But he was not going to give up; he hadfaced the worst daunting situations in his life, and he had overcome all of them—this was justanother. And, somehow, some way, I am going to overcome this too.

Chapter 16 Three months later Removing her light coat, Esther smiled in relief as she stepped back into her home. After being at theCornish Coast, for the last three months, where she had celebrated her New Year with a handful ofservants and her mother, she was happy to be home. Life at the seaside during winter was a lovely one, and it was a vacation she would likely do again inyears to come. Stepping into her room, she felt pleased to see that most of the heavy winter drapeswere replaced with lighter, colourful spring ones. Her eyes dipped to her writing table and the stackof letters there. Picking one up, she spun it to see the seal and instantly dropped it—it was from Felton. After a quicklook, she realizes that they were all from him, and while she felt tempted to rip them to shreds, shetook all seven and dropped them into her nightstand drawer, where his books and jewellery rested. Divesting herself of her shawl and gloves, she forced herself to think of anything but him. Night afternight, she had sobbed herself to sleep, trying—and failing—to exorcise the man from her heart. Now,she just held it to another experience in life, a love she could have had but lost. “My Lady,” Margaret, now free from her travelling garb as well, greeted. On her hand was a traywith a steaming cup of tea, “Her Grace says its best for you to drink this.” “Thank you, Margaret,” she looked over her shoulder to her faithful friend and reaching out for thecup. “I’m happy to be home.”

*** Later that night, Esther found herself in a position she had been months ago, when she had indulged inthe titillating erotic book, and reached into her drawer and plucked out the stacks of letters. Trimmingher lamp a little higher, she stacked them in the dates written under the seal and read them in that way. The first letter was not long; Felton apologized for his harebrained scheme and that he hated how hehad hurt her. Dropping that, she read the progressing letters, and with each one, he apologized forspecific hurts; for getting her to trust him, forgetting her to put her faith in him, for how he had boughtthat erotic book as a part of his plan to get her malleable enough to seduce. He apologized for carrying on the scheme long enough that she had found herself in love with him,and he stressed that he hated himself for not confessing it all before that; before she had given him herheart, not knowing that he was not worthy of it. Esther dropped the letter and bit her lip—god. Why was she doing this to herself? Why had she doneher best to put this man behind her and now, with these letters, had launched herself back into thetorrid pools of her still present love for him. “Please forgive me for playing upon your trust, please forgive me for thinking such an abominableact could right another wrong.” He had said. The last letter tied her heart into strings—his handwriting was not as steady as the previous six, andhe wrote how he had judged her wrongly. He wrote how he had acted over hurt pride, how he hadbeen decisive in making her pay for her brother’s wrongs by seducing her and taking her virtue. Headded how he had begun to waver in his decision when he had grown to know her, to kiss her, to loveher.

Please forgive me for thinking that you were complicit with your brother to step over people andnot care who you hurt. Please forgive me for thinking the worst of you when I know now that youare everything but. Her hand trembled with the last sentence, “Over my time in the Navy, I saw women breakengagements with men I worked with and how it cut them to their heart. When I arrived home, I cameto know that your brother did the same to my sister. So, I took their hurt and my sister’s pain as justcause to try to right a wrong—only I used a wrong to do it. A thousand years will not remove myregret, and I hope you can find it in your heart, one that I damaged, to forgive me.” “Please forgive me for lies, the deception, all of it.” “Oh, Felton…” she whispered, feeling her heart throb. “Why are you doing this to me? Why can’t I letyou go?” *** As the days passed, a letter from Felton never failed to show up at her home. Some of them were justa note, wishing her well, and some were whimsical with a perfectly accurate drawing of thesnowman they had made, lumps on the snowy ground and under it, a wish for them to make more. Andsome tugged at her heart; when he wrote how he loved her and how he knew that he would never loveanother. She remembered how he had told her that he believed himself broken beyond repair and, in thosemoments, only wanted to reach out and touch him. It was a feeling that she carried with her whiledressing for a spring ball at one of her brother’s associates. The dress, a lovely pale peach silk with flared skirts and simple pearl jewels. Her hair, swept up in acurled up-do with a string of pearls threaded through it, matched her earrings and necklace.

“Ah,” John said from the doorway. “You’re certainly a vision, Esther.” Smiling faintly, she reached of her thick white cashmere and draped it around her back, nestling theends in the crook of her arms, “Thank you, John. Please, though, like I asked when you asked me tocome, please don’t expect me to make more than acquaintances tonight.” His mouth ticked down, “I wish you would.” “Not tonight,” Esther sighed. “Very well,” he extended his arm to her, “We’d better be going.” *** Lady Yalewood’s ball was a curious merge of winter theme with the burgeoning spring season eatingaway at the ice. For every white backdrop, pots of lavender and sprigs of roses rested. The Lady hadcleverly taken inspiration from the re-emerging flowers to show the guest how the winter waslessening. The further one walked, the more the winter had lessened, and spring began. Faux ivy strands were onthe walls around the dance floor, and blooming lily-of-the valley perfumed the air. Two hours in, andEsther had danced only twice, avoiding the waltz as if it were the plague. That music resonated with Arthur—Felton—for her, and it cut her up inside to dance it with another

man. Without her expressively noticing it, her eyes traced around the room, looking, vainly, for theman who was starting to warm her heart back to him. Downhearted, she was considering asking John to send her home, when the butler announced Lordand Lady Colborne. Esther nearly dropped the fan she was using and bit her inner cheek when shesaw him. He and his sister matched with the Lady in a lovely shade of silver and his powerful formclad in impeccably tailored clothes, dark-grey coat and trousers, a dove grey waistcoat, and hiscravat in a cascade fall—pinned by a familiar silver pin, grazed his chin. His stoic face seemed to have a little more grimness and gauntness to it and his hair a littlewindswept and ruffled. She managed to tear her gaze away while the two made it further into theballroom. Her eyes clenched as her gaze rested on everything but him. God, what did I do to deserve this? She could feel Margaret’s eyes on her but kept her gaze away—tonight was going to be either amassive mistake or somehow a blessing. The question was, Esther did not know which one. *** Hours later, Esther could not take it any more and fled to a balcony—only to find the ledge taken. ByFelton. He was leaning on the railing, the night air buffeting his hair, and his cravat looked loosenedfrom the tight knot it once was. She stopped in her tracks at seeing him with the laughter and chatter of a ball behind her. Sheconsidered turning away, but when he spoke, his tone had her stepping closer, “You don’t have to run,Esther. I won’t bite.”

“I apologize. I did not mean to intrude,” she went on. “You were here first, and though I was justlooking for some privacy—” she shook her head. “I’ll leave.” “Please, don’t,” he said quietly. “We are civilized adults here; can’t we have a decent conversation?The balcony is large enough to accommodate the both of us.” “We should not be together,” Esther said, while daringly, she stepped past the glass doors and cameclose to him, “But I think we can bypass this for once.” Felton twisted, and his eyes did that slow trace of her body that made her shiver to her bones, and hiseyes shifted to a pain, “You’re beyond lovely.” Esther rewarded him with a soft smile before coming to lean her gloved arms on the balustrade nextto him. “What were you thinking about?” Could it be me? “The battle of Waterloo,” he mentioned, “How many we lost at that battle. And the ones we lostcoming back; the wasting disease, was worse than any sword could have done to a man.” “You lost a lot of men,” Esther mused. “I have lost a lot of things, Esther,” he said. “Some more cutting than others.”

His tone told her that she was counted in the things he lost. Esther clasped the iron railing and peeredout into the darkness. Closing her eyes, she leaned into the night and inhaled deeply. “Are you notenjoying the ball?” “No,” he said shortly. “I only came because Catherine wanted to come, and my mother pressured meinto it,” his dark shoulders moved in a careless shrug. “The truth is they show me with stark contrastthat this life, balls, soirées and what have you, are not for me. I feel exiled into an Elba of my own—separate from all others. I am just waiting for it to end, but why are you here?” She sucked in a breath, “Because there is a certain gentleman who I cannot ignore, one who I havetold myself that is not the best for me. But he was one that I cannot get out of my mind, especiallywhen he sends me letters and drawings of an unfortunate snowman,” she slid him an assessing look. Felton’s eyes were straight ahead of him, but his lips twitched, “Is such a gentleman here?” “He is.” “And does he know that you are feeling thus?” Felton asked. “I do not think so,” Esther replied. “As I have not replied to his messages and he has been warned notto be near me. I do wish to correct that, though; I just cannot see how to do it.” Felton turned to her, and he swallowed, “Perhaps you should tell him. I can imagine such man wouldbe hurting just as you are.” Reaching up, Esther cupped his cheek, “I’ve missed you.”

His breath was shuddery as it left him, “I have agonized about you. God above, Esther, the nights Ihave spent in heartache over you are innumerable. I love you more than I love my life. How can Iprove it to you?” A plaintive sob worked its way up her throat, and overwhelming joy and relief washed through hersoul. She made to say something, but no words came out. As it turned out, she did not have to. In thenext moment, his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that said more than any words could have. Resting his forehead on hers, he said, “One more chance, Ether, please, give me one more chance.” “You will have it,” Esther sighed, pressing her face into his chest. “I will persuade Mother and John,because I cannot lose you again.” His arms enveloped her, and his warm sandalwood scent flooded her nose. He whispered, “Neveragain, love. Never again.”

Epilogue Six months later “Welcome,” the Archbishop of St. James Cathedral nodded to the seven gathered in the front rows ofthe cavernous church. The seven: Esther’s mother and brother with Felton’s sister, mother, and friend—now his witness, Lord Camden, looked out of place in the large church. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God to join together this man and thiswoman in the act of holy matrimony.” All Esther noticed was that Felton had worn the white cravat she had given him so long ago, thesilver pin holding the Napoleon Knot together and the silver cufflinks winking from the dark sleevesof his wrists. His eyes were warm and loving, and Esther was on the edge of sinking into them. “…if any man does allege and declare any impediment, why they may not be coupled together byGod’s Law, or the Laws of this Realm, please speak now or forever hold your peace…” his voiceagain faded as Esther, locked in Felton’s gaze, lost all that around them. She read his look—I love you, I adore you, I am sorry that I hurt you, please stay with me, I willnever intentionally hurt you again. Silence permeated the air as no one uttered a word. Then, gladly, the priest spoke, “Felton WilliamGale, Earl of Colborne, wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God'sordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her, insickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

“I will,” Felton said. “Lady Esther Charity Harewood, wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live togetherafter God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love,honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, solong as ye both shall live?” Happily, Esther said. “I will.” They were instructed to exchange rings and instructed to kiss. Felton laid a soft kiss on her lips, whileshe could see a flash of heat in his eyes—he wanted to ravage her. “I now pronounce, Lord and Lady Felton Gale,” the bishop nodded stately. “Please, convene in therectory to sign the registry.” While the two witnesses, Lord Camden, and Lady Harewood, moved off, Esther stood still andcupped Felton’s cheek, “You’re so handsome, My Lord.” “I am hardly as handsome as you, My Lady,” Felton grinned, then leaned in to kiss her cheek andwhisper-growled in her ear. “I cannot wait for this wedding breakfast to be over. I want you all tomyself.” Resting her ringed hand on his chest, Esther smiled, “Let us pray that the day goes quickly.” ****

“Esther, please open your eyes, sweetheart,” Felton’s knuckles tipped up her face, just as he loweredhis head to hers, and laid a soft kiss on her lips. “Are you scared, love?” They were in his bedchamber back at the Colborne Estate, newly returned from their wedding andbreakfast—one who had stunned all of them as Rawdenhad taken a knee and asked Catherine to marryhim. Thankfully, he had drawn all the attention to him, giving Felton time to whisk Esther away. They had separated for an hour to clean up and prepare for the next few hours, and now, Esther foundherself fretting. Felton studied her eyes as if searching for truth, and Esther did not even contemplate hiding heremotions from him, “In some ways, yes; you have been with women before—I feel that I might belacking.” Felton smiled, “Nothing you will do will disappoint me, Esther. I love who you are, and note that I donot know how to please you. We shall learn each other together, but tonight, I need to make you mine.Agreed?” Instead of speaking, Esther wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Felton dropped hisarms to her hips and covered her lips with his, kissing her softly, then it grew to a possessive and all-consuming caress. His hands moved between them, pulled the tie of her frilly white wrap away, and softly urged it overher arms. When it dropped, the silky nothing of her nightdress brushed across her tightening nipples,and she saw him swallow tightly. “Now you,” she whispered.

Moving to his robe, Felton pulled the tie, and with an eager hand, Esther pushed his robe from hisbroad shoulders. When it fell to his elbows, Esther ran her hand over his hot, ruddy skin. Shesmoothed her palms over his chest covered with dark hair, and his rigid stomach, the muscles beneathstiff and locked. He stood in his loose trousers while she did her exploration of his body until her hand strayed lowerto his groin, causing Felton to grasp her hands, “You are straying into dangerous waters, love.” Smiling mischievously, Esther slid the thin strap of her night rail over her shoulders and stood still asthe silk slid down her body to pool at her feet. Felton cursed and scooped her into his arms, beforedepositing her on the bed. Kneeling between her legs and groaning, Felton kissed her deeply,exploring her mouth with wild desire, one of his hands cupping her bottom, while his tongueplundered her mouth, leaving her with a massive aching need. When he pulled away, Esther licked her lips, wet and swollen from his kisses. As she lay nakedbefore him Felton got on his knees to admire her body. Esther blushed when his eyes traced from herdark red hair to plump pert breasts tipped with dark, dusky-pink nipples. His gaze slid down her flatstomach and the soft curves of her waist, hips, and the soft groomed hair between her thighs. Just as Esther was about to ask him if he liked what he saw, the expression in his eyes changed, andshe knew what was running through his head. “Felton,” she whispered, her heartbreaking for him. “Don’t feel sorry for it now.” He shook his head, “That I had hurt you? Esther, it will linger with me for the rest of my life,” hekissed just under her collarbone. “But now, all I can see is the perfect woman in my bed, a womanthat leaves me speechless; one that I will spend every day for the rest of my life convincing her of mylove…one that stirs a need in me. Never have I ever felt what I feel with you,” he murmured as he

took her nipple between his teeth and sucked hard, drawing a pleasured cry from her. Arching under him, Esther grabbed the sheets while he pleasured her, revelling in the warmth of hisbody and the furnace of his mouth. But two could play that game and with a dared her fingers to questlower. He sucked in a breath and held it as she lightly traced his clothed erection. He stilled when shecupped her hand around him. To Esther’s shock, his member seemed to get thicker in her hand. He kissed her neck. “If you wanted to touch, you could just ask.” Grasping her hips, he spun them on the bed, and held her on top of him. Wordlessly, Esther ran herfingers over his chest and stomach, tracing every line, dip, and bulge. Wondering if he felt pleasurefor his nipples like she did, Esther leaned into him, wanting to taste him on her tongue, and she ran hertongue over the flat disk. He tasted divine, all-male; addictively so. She explored previously forbidden territory, her handsrunning over his skin, and her mouth following in their place. Shimmering down his body, Estherlooked up from the thick bulge at his crotch. “Go ahead,” he said. Hooking her hands into the loose waist, she tugged them down and freed him. His manhood sprangfree, the shaft thick and upright, the flared crown brushing his abdomen and his stones heavy andswollen with need. “How do I—” Felton took her hand and rested it upon him. He was velvety smooth yet at the same time as hard as

iron, and when she dared move her hand, Felton let out a guttural groan and closed his eyes, lettinghis head drop back again. Tentatively, she moved her hand over him and felt him swell with eachstroke, just as the dampness between her thighs grew as well. “In the book…” she dared. “Madeline pleasured Nathaniel with her mouth; is that something youwould like?” He sat, “Very much so, but not tonight. Tonight, it is my job to please you.” “I want to,” Esther pressed, then lowered her head. Under Felton’s disbelieving gaze, she licked the glistening drop that slipped from the tip and ashudder overcame him as she did it again. Esther's tongue dipped into the slit before she took the headof him inside her mouth. The taste of him was strange; faint salt and musk, but she took him deeper, careful to not touch theback of her throat, and used her hand to pleasure the parts not in her mouth. When she sucked slightly,Felton’s stifled grunt told her that she was doing it right, and she continued licking, sucking, andpleasuring him, until his bollocks began to tighten. Then Felton growled, “Enough.” He pulled her away from him and spun her to lay under him, “Minx.” Just before he kissed her, hishand found its way between her legs and slipped a finger over her wetness. “I want you, love,” he kissed her jaw while his fingers slid inside her, and his thumb settled over herswollen pearl. His fingers worked her slick heat, grinning when he found her thoroughly wet and

aroused. Esther’s body was aching and writhing under his touch, and he chuckled, a low, rich tonethat had her eyes opening. His lips trailed hot kisses down her neck and across her breast while his thick fingers kept thrustinginside her. With a muffled, incoherent cry, Esther’s hand grabbed at him while her thighs tightenedaround his hand as she found ecstasy with a scream. While kissing her through her climax, Felton pulled away to give her a soft, but heated look. “I cannotcontain myself any more, love,” his free hand caressed her face, “I think you know that when we join,there will be a moment of pain. Hold unto me, cry out if you need, but I promise you, after it goes,nothing will be more pleasurable.” “I know,” Esther whispered as she boldly fitted her legs around her hips. Felton leaned in, and his lips rested upon hers while her pulse leaped in an erratic rhythm. She hadnever been this intimate with a man before, and to feel his powerful body over hers, his hardnessstretched fully over her, desire possessed her through and through. His kiss grew while Felton pulled her legs up higher and increased the pressure on her mouth as aheated, aching wetness pulsed to life in the secret place between her legs. Esther softly whimperedand arched her back, longing for him to claim her as no man ever had. To be his first, his only… With one hand cupping her bottom, pressing her to him while his tongue plundered her mouth, Feltoneased into her softness. He flexed his hips and pushed further in, making Esther feel every inch of hishardness, stretching and filling her. He stopped a little, and she let out the breath she had not been aware that she had been holding, onlyto feel him pull out a little. Over and over, he repeated the process, inching in a little, just to retreat;each short stroke enough to stir her blood and tease her for what was to come. Esther moaned his

name. Trembling with desire, she succumbed when he urged her legs around his waist. His kisses did notstop piercing her mouth like his shaft was doing to her body. Esther found that she was open to him,and his powerful thighs kept hers apart as he slowly, slowly sank further, pushing forward aninexorable pressure. Then he paused, took her mouth with passion, and, with a hard thrust, broke her maidenhead. Esthercried out in his mouth and shivered through the quickly fleeing pain. When his mouth pulled away,Esther was gasping for another reason; she was not sure she could accommodate his enormous size,and yet her body was opening for him, stretching around him, “Are you in pain, love?” he asked. Esther shook her head, only to hear him sigh, “Then open your eyes. Meet mine as we love eachother.” When she looked, she saw tenderness and love as he gazed down upon her, and for the first fewstrokes, he moved tenderly within her too. His thrusts were slow and tender, just like his constantkisses upon her mouth and skin were until, with one gentle thrust, he was finally seated deep withinher. “Felton…” she gasped, feeling the square of his hips rest upon hers. Her husband rose on to his forearms and his blue-silver eyes—bluer than silver—gleamed down ather, the weight of his lower body holding her immobile as he withdrew and, more powerfully thanbefore, entered her.

Esther felt every inch as he filled her, and the faint threads of pleasure began to snake their waythrough her body. She found her body tighten while she arched to meet him. “You’re so deep within me…” She struggled to catch her breath, “My body is…I don’t know if I cantake all of you.” “You can, love, and you will,” Felton encouraged her. “Your body will expand, love, and soon,you’ll only know bliss.” He continued to move inside her, and as Esther took his words for it, forced her body to relax, and asshe gave herself over to him, the intimacy of their joining gave her stirrings of overwhelmingpleasure. She slid her arms over his shoulders while sinking her hands into his hair. Felton's kisses wereconstant, and she sucked on his tongue while her hips flexed with his. Removing a hand, she slid itover his shoulders, running it over his powerful chest and drawing her nails down his back until shefound his buttocks. She held on as they flexed. He moved more forcibly than before—and flames erupted inside her. Herhips lifted to match his rhythm, the slick friction of their bodies sending intense pleasure to her core.The restless flames of desire erupted into a firestorm. At her first scream, Felton grinned, grabbed her hands, and pinned them atop her head. Their lipsmelded, slick tongues tangled, their bodies merging in a lustful frenzy and driving need. His thrustsgrew faster, deeper, and even more powerfully. The lust between grew brighter and hotter; Esther, now hungry for all the pleasure Felton’s bodycould give her, greedily matched his rhythm. His eyes blazed fiercely as he moved inside her.

“Good girl,” Felton praised her while watching her face intently, as if she were the only thing in theworld that existed. “Work yourself against me.” “Oh, please, Felton,” she cried, “help me…" His thrust never slowed, “Do you want to come, love?" “Yes! Yes!” she chanted the word until he bent his head and sucked hard on her nipple. His teethgrazed her just as the hand he had worked between them gave her bud a sharp flick. Esther catapulted over the edge, the finishing surge of pleasure searing through her senses likewildfire. When she bucked and writhed against him, he clenched his teeth, striving for control, tryingdesperately to keep his savage need in check… but it was all for nothing, A great shudder moved through his frame as Felton let himself fall in the raw chasm of pleasure. Ahoarse moan ripped itself from his throat as his body flexed against hers, and she felt his pulse deepwith her. Shaken, Esther trembled under him, and a warm tenderness engulfed her heart. This was the man forher, and this was the man she would spend the rest of her life with. Easing his weight to the side, he drew her into his arms. His body wrapped around her, warming her,calming her. They lay there together, weak in the aftershocks of pleasure. After a long moment, helifted his head to give her a warm kiss upon her swollen lips.

Such a thoughtful, compassionate man. Even when she opened her mouth to speak, and he cut her off with a kiss. “Sleep, love,” he mumbled,his voice muffled by exhaustion. Rolling her eyes, Esther said, “Felton… I love you.” His heavy lid lifted, and he smiled. “I love you more. Now sleep, we have a ship to New Holland tocatch in the morning.”

THE END Can't get enough of Esther and Felton? Then make sure to check out the Extended Epilogue to find

out…

How will life treat the beloved couple twenty years later? Will they finally manage to get their

happily ever after?

What kind of scandalous secrets will Esther’s daughter uncover? Why will she find them

“disturbing”?

What big surprise will Esther and Felton have for their precious daughter??

Click the link or enter it into your browserhttp://meghansloan.com/esther

(After reading the Extended Epilogue, turn the page to read the first chapters from “A Lord's Bet

of Desire”, my Amazon Best-Selling novel!)

A Lord's Bet of Desire

Introduction

Laura Hawkins knows that she’s bound to a life of servitude at Sage Brook manor. While working at

the house of Norman Pembroke, the Duke of Bancroft, she has always dreamt of advancing her life

from a humble maid to that of a governess. Despite knowing that this opportunity may never appear,

her love for reading is enough to keep the dream alive. But little did she know that fate would bring

an unforeseen twist that would make this dream a tangible reality… When Edward, the endearingly

attractive brother of the Duke, comes to visit, the last thing she expected was to end up under his roof

and away from the only place she’s ever known. Laura will inevitably find herself seduced by his

ravishing beauty, but will she allow herself to finally surrender to her burning desire for him?

Edward Pembroke has always been the opposite of his brother. Being warm and dutiful himself, he

was against his brother’s love for gambling that was dwindling the Pembroke fortune every day.

When he finally decides to confront him about his wayward habit, they both end up engaging in a

fateful night of gambling, and Edward wins the prize of taking anything he wants with him. Without a

second thought, he chooses Laura, as her fiery nature lightens a spark inside him. Once they move to

his house, he can’t help but be mesmerised by her every move, willing to do whatever it takes to

possess her. Will he manage to turn this promising desire into an everlasting love?

Laura and Edward’s attraction is impossible to deny, but their evident class differences are

threatening their undeniable lust. The more time they spend together, the more they lose their hearts

and bodies to one another. Will their passionate connection prove strong enough to shatter the

insurmountable obstacles? Or will their heated affair go down in flames before it even sets them on

fire?

Chapter 1 Laura Hawkins peered out the window of her cosy little room on the top floor of Sage Brook Manor.It was grey and dull outside, something that Laura had become accustomed to. Although Laura greatlyenjoyed the freedom of being a maid in the grand estate, having a room to herself, and even her veryown desk, she knew that something was lacking. She’d read the large stack of books that sat in the corner, learned not to bump her head on the quaintslanted ceiling, and had even excelled at teaching herself French. All of this progress was due to thefact that there was practically nothing to do at Sage Brook. She kept herself busy, nonetheless. The manor was so expansive that Laura was always dusting andsweeping, even if she was dusting and sweeping the very same places that she’d cleaned the daybefore. The master of the house, Lord Norman Pembroke, Duke of Bancroft, was the reason why thestaff was so enormous at Sage Brook, but there was still little to do. Not much for entertaining, nor even finding a wife to bear him children, Norman Pembroke preferredsitting in his library for hours on end, reading old tomes, and gazing into the fire. Granted, there wasnot a speck of dust on any of those old books. Laura had seen to that. But aside from frequent cups oftea and the occasional biscuit, Norman was in no way demanding. Because of all this free time and the lack of livelihood at Sage Brook, Laura had space to dream. Shewished to one day be a governess. As she turned from the dull scenery outside her window to look inthe mirror, she admired her finely starched black and white uniform. It was simple, which wasalways what Laura preferred in terms of both apparel and conduct. Still, if one day her dream came true, and she became a governess, she could wear something muchmore fetching. Laura knew that it wouldn’t be a significant boost to her station in life, but it would bea boost, nonetheless. Instead of dusting books, she’d read them to children. Instead of sweepingfloors, she’d teach children to dance and comport themselves befitting a child in society. There would

be laughter and playtime, and while the children were learning, Laura would be learning, as well. Laura frowned to herself in the mirror. Perhaps she was reaching too high. Her chocolate brown hairwas swept back in a neat bun, her alabaster skin was becoming, and her figure was fine. These wereall features to be proud of, but deep down, Laura didn’t want to draw any attention in the slightest. Her shy exterior was a mask that she wore in order to get through. It was only after a long day ofhardly working that Laura would return to her room, set her hair free, and pop her nose into a book,where she felt like she truly lived. Laura brought a hand up and clasped the locket around her neck. She opened it, looking at the pictureof her late mother, Constance. Constance herself had been a maid after the death of her husband.Laura was raised in a different estate where Constance worked, but the grounds were nowhere nearas stately as Sage Brook Manor. Laura couldn’t quite believe it when, following the tragic death ofher mother, she was offered employment at Sage Brook. The Duke of Bancroft was one of the wealthiest in all of Britain, and Laura was surprised by her luck.It was later explained to her that the duke could see Laura’s pedigree and valued the fact that she hadbeen raised on a separate estate. All of these things came together to place Laura at Sage Brook,where, despite the boredom, Laura found happiness from time to time. Exiting her little room, Laura made her way down the winding stairs and headed towards the kitchen.There was some commotion, which was very surprising. The butler, Percival, ran around like achicken with his head cut off. This was most surprising considering that Percival was prone to sittingon the front steps smoking a pipe, something that would not have been approved in any otherhousehold. “Where is Stanley? I must speak with Stanley!” Stanley was the chef. Another man that spent a great deal of his time biding his time because LordPembroke seemed to live off a diet of baked fish and asparagus. Laura watched as Percival enteredthe kitchen, and she followed him. What she discovered there made her eyes widen. Her jaw droppedtowards the floor. Never had she seen such movement. Pots and pans were being carried about, fresh

flowers were brought in from the garden, and Laura could smell, of all things, a hot chowder on thestove. And was that fresh bread? Lord Pendergast always refused bread. Surely, somethingextraordinary was going on, and Laura wished to get to the bottom of it in the quietest way possible. Choosing not to speak to Stanley or Percival directly, as it wasn’t her station, Laura sought out herfriend, confidant, and fellow maid, Diana Cooke. Although the two girls didn’t spend much timetogether, they communicated much through glances, winks of the eye, and raising of the brows. Laurawas amazed by how much could be communicated in just that way. Going from room to room, Laurafinally discovered Diana polishing a vase that was already perfectly clean. Laura tugged on Diana’sapron. Laura spoke in a whisper. “What is going on?” “Oh, Laura. You frightened me!” “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Diana grinned from ear to ear. “You haven’t heard the news?” “What news?” Laura cocked her head to the side. “Why, the duke’s brother is making an appearance.” “You talk as though he were the Regent.”

“He practically is. Have I not told you about Edward Pembroke?” “You have not, and I’m mildly offended.” Diana smiled at the little joke. “He hasn’t been here in some time. Although he is a lovely man,rumour has it that the two brothers had a bit of a falling out.” Laura wished to be polite. “That’s unfortunate.” Diana continued to polish the vase, going over the same surfaces that she’d already gone over. “It wasmost unfortunate because all the staff of Sage Brook positively adore the duke’s brother.” Dianaleaned in and brought her voice to a hush. “And I hear say, no less rich than Norman Pembroke.” Laura sighed. She’d never been terribly impressed by money. Laura saw it as a means to an end, butshe could understand why some women got themselves all aflutter over wealthy dukes and societytitans. It would be nice not to have to work at all, but Laura assumed that those society women mustbe so terribly bored. Just then, Percival ran by once more, his hands in the air. Stanley followed him. “This is a disaster. The first major event at Sage Brook in years, and no one remembers how to dotheir bloody jobs.” “How dare you blame me,” Stanley protested. “The broiler has suffered from disuse.” “Well, fix it, old chap.” Percival checked his pocket watch. “There is only one hour remaining.”

Stanley shook his head in dismay and walked away. “I can’t tolerate this tension.” Laura stifled a laugh. She’d never seen everyone so up in arms. Although there was tension in the air,Laura enjoyed the liveliness of things. There was excitement afoot, and she couldn’t wait to get aglimpse of this Edward Pembroke. Diana whispered again. “One hour’s time. We best get to work.” “That is a rather good idea.” Laura took her cue to part ways and sought to make herself look busy, as well. Heading to the broomcloset, Laura dodged the various staff whizzing past her. As she felt the rush of things, Laura couldn’thelp thinking of what Sage Brook would have been like if the duke had a family. What if children were scurrying about, a fastidious wife demanding this and that, and guests invited tosupper? What fun that would be. Decorating for the holidays, afternoon tea, hunting expeditions. Ifonly Norman Pembroke took an interest in anything. Procuring the broom, Laura made her way to the most inconspicuous place she could find to sweep. Itjust happened to be the hall right outside the duke’s library. The door to the library was ajar. AsLaura swept past, she couldn’t help peering into the library by way of a side glance. Inside, NormanPembroke had his nose in a book, as usual. Despite all the commotion, he was as calm and collectedas any. Although he was a tad dull, Laura had to admire her master. He was clearly well-educated.And truth be told, the duke was a handsome man with his sandy blond hair and large stature. Just as Laura became aware of her daydreaming, the duke turned to her, and their eyes met. Laura letout a gasp, embarrassed that she had been caught staring at him. Laura began to feverishly sweep,trying to forget about the mortifying moment. The duke said nothing in response and continued to readhis book. He could have met eyes with a gorilla in that library, and still, he’d return to his book.

In hopes of escaping the awkward encounter, Laura entered the study, and yet again, she wasthwarted. There, Percival stood in a heated conversation with Daniel, the head gardener. Lauraenvied his position. Since the grounds of Sage Brook were so vast, Daniel always had a great deal todo and appeared to be a cheerful man because of it. On this particular day, Daniel frowned asPercival spoke to him. Laura concealed herself from their view. “I fear that this could be the end of us,” Percival said. “Edward hasn’t come for some time. He’ll see it all too clearly.” Percival bristled. “The staff is perhaps three times what it should be. Edward is no fool. Unlike hisbrother, he’s a very diligent man when it comes to the Pembroke money. I fear for our livelihoods.” “Sod it. You’re the butler of the house. There’s no chance you’ll be furloughed.” “It’s unclear to me. I have been here for some time. I see that too much expense has been paid. Andwhat have I done about it? Not a blooming thing.” “It’s not your position to say. Your job is to do what the master tells you to do.” “I suppose you’re right. Still, it troubles me. We have a sound staff here. Most sound. But I fear manyof them will have to go.” Laura brought a hand up to the locket around her neck and clutched it. Many of the staff will have to

go? Those were the most horrible words Laura had heard in some time. All that excitement in the airdissolved into fear. Laura didn’t wish to lose her position. She’d saved up some money. She wascomfortable. It would be trying to have to seek out another position. But if she could say that she onceworked at grand Sage Brook, perhaps it would improve her chances. Maybe, if the dreaded event did occur, it would be fate telling Laura to finally obtain the position thatshe truly wanted: to be a governess. Perhaps from calamity would arise new beginnings. At least,that’s what Laura hoped for, and she wished always to maintain a positive outlook on things. She continued to sweep down the hall before hearing the crash of thunder. It was most ominous,indeed. Laura walked to the window looking out over the garden, clutching the broom in her smallhands. The rain poured down from the heavens, and Laura tilted her head to the side. Would EdwardPembroke bring with him a fresh liveliness or an inevitable downpour?

Chapter 2 Edward Pembroke sat at his desk, looking at a flickering candle. The rain outside came downrelentlessly, and Edward wondered if he should even make the journey to his brother’s estate.Although he could scarce call it Norman’s estate because Edward had just as much a stake in it asNorman had. In fact, Edward felt as though he cared for Sage Brook most of all. The majority of thefamily fortune was in it, but Edward’s own estate was worth much. He pushed aside a stack of papers and sighed. Though Edward was diligent with financial accountsand business, he was not the type that craved spending his life behind a desk. Edward was a man ofaction. He enjoyed hunting, sport, and anything pertaining to the outdoors. This desire to take in freshair lent Edward his healthy complexion and rather large build. Even larger than his brother, andNorman was said to be a well-built man. Hearing thunder, Edward walked to the window and watched as the drops of rain ran down the panesof glass. It was going to be a dreadful evening, but Edward was determined to see his brother andSage Brook. Their fight over financial affairs, and Edward’s dislike of his brother’s general ennui,had led to a period of respectful silence between the two. Edward felt the responsibility to reach outto Norman to create a detente. Norman obliged, haltingly, and Edward set the time and date in whichthey could share supper, like the good old days when they weren’t at odds. Just then, one of the maids of the estate, Missy, walked quietly into the room carrying a tray. “Tea,sir?” Edward looked to little mousy Missy and straightened his necktie. “No, I thank you. I’ll be on my wayto Sage Brook.” “None before you go?” Missy blushed. “To stay warm?”

Edward gave a delighted smile. “Once again, I think I’ll pass.” “Yes, M’Lord.” Missy gave a jittery curtsy, and Edward continued to smile. It didn’t go to his head that the ladies of his staff often blushed in his presence. Sometimes he’d heargirlish giggling. Although Edward was flattered, he’d never take advantage of such attention. His onlygoal was to treat the staff with the utmost respect so that they might have prosperous lives. Whenever there was a staff member’s request to have a person of their family under Edward’semployment, he’d oblige. All in all, Edward felt as though everyone, no matter their station, deservedrespect. Walking out the front door of his estate, his chauffeur, Charles, was there waiting for him in the rain.Charles tipped his hat upon seeing his master, and a pool of water fell from it, crashing onto thealready drenched ground. “You’re a sight,” Edward said humorously. “It’s a devil of a rain. Never seen the likes of it.” “Do you think we’ll survive it?” “I have a feeling, Your Grace, you could survive anything.”

“Most kind.” Edward was still standing under the overhang, but he knew the moment of getting wet was inevitable. Charles knit his brow. “Can I get your umbrella?” Just then, Edward turned back towards the house and saw his butler, Harrison, standing there with theumbrella already in hand. Edward, having the intrepid spirit that he did, waved the offer off and madea run for the carriage, getting soaked along the way. Once inside, he heard Charles get on top to stirthe horses. As the carriage sped along, Edward considered what might be in store that night. A darkness cameover him whenever he thought of his brother. If Norman had stepped up and taken responsibility overthe Pembroke name, maybe Edward wouldn’t have to sit at his bloody desk looking at papers andnotices. He wouldn’t feel the horrible pressure to marry a society woman and have a large family. Not thatEdward was dreading getting married. He was determined to have it over and done with this veryyear. Sadly, Edward had to choose his wife more in terms of status than affection. Edward deeply hoped that he could find a woman that fulfilled both requirements. A woman thatlived up to the Pembroke name while still stirring his heart. He had to be honest with himself thatsuch a dream might be too far-fetched. But either way, he’d be courteous to his chosen wife and treather as she should be treated. And Edward was looking forward to the commotion of having a family.The parties and dinners, children scurrying. The journey to Sage Brook was much darker than it ought to be. Although it was only early evening,the dark clouds blanketed the sky, and it was difficult to admire the beautiful countryside along theway. Driving down the long road that led to Sage Brook, Edward watched as the looming structure in

the distance grew larger and larger. The various windows were all illuminated, leading Edward to believe that the staff was well awareof his arrival. Were Edward not coming to Sage Brook that night, there was a fairly good chance thatfew of those windows would be illuminated at all. Drawing closer, the rain still falling, Percival stepped out the front door and clasped his hands behindhis back. Edward pushed open the door to the carriage and hopped down, his boots creating a splash.He approached the manor with a steady foot, not choosing to run this time to get out of the rain. Percival bowed. “You’re rather early. I thought to have the staff out and waiting—” “That won’t be necessary, old chap. No need to stand on ceremony.” “But you know how fond of you they are.” “And I am fond of them. Nonetheless.” Edward shook some of the water out of his hair. “We wish tokeep this a casual affair.” Percival smiled a little nervously. But the butler always had that look in his eye. Edward’s butler,Harrison, was a far more steady man than Percival. He was grateful for his butler. Norman neverspoke of Percival much, and it seemed as though the fellow could just carry on as he pleased. Severalyears back, there was an instance when Edward caught Percival outside smoking on his pipe. Percival opened the door and extended his hand. “Do come in.”

“I thank you.” “The duke is in the library, as usual.” Percival sighed. “I don’t need to be announced. I’ll show myself in.” As Edward walked down the hall, the various servants that he passed bowed. The female servantsblushed. It was all to be expected. Approaching the library, Edward could hear the fire crackling. Hestepped through the door, and there was Norman, book in hand, with a sad facial expression. If onlyhis brother took the clean air more often. It would do something for his spirits. But Norman wasalways that way. He was an anxious child and wanted to be alone. Edward had tried to introduce himto ladies but with little success. What was his brother thinking?” “Norman.” His brother barely looked up from his book. “This dreaded rain.” “It’s good for the countryside and begs for a warm cup of tea.” “Did you say that to be endearing, or are you asking for a cup of tea?” Norman finally looked up. “I’d accept one if it was placed in front of me.” Norman reached over and rang a bell by his side. Edward found a chair, pushed back his coattails,

and seated himself. They waited in awkward silence for the tea to arrive. Finally, a servant camescurrying into the library carrying a tray. Once the tea was poured and served, Norman sighed andcontinued the conversation. “It’s been some time since I’ve seen you.” “Not entirely my fault.” In fact, Edward was the one that needed to instigate the reunion. “Now’s not the time for blame. We’ll enjoy supper in the grand dining room and catch up on affairs.” The grand dining room. If only it were used in the manner for which it was intended. Edward recalledthe remarkable dinners the former Duke of Bancroft held. The duchess, Edward’s mother, took greatpains to ensure that the meals were utter perfection, and so they always were. Those halcyon daysseemed so far in the past. Sage Brook needed life in it again. “Is Stanley still with you?” “He’s a decent cook. I’ve seen no reason to let him go.” “Cooking for one, eh?” Norman knit his brow. “Yes, brother. My chef cooks for me. He also prepares food for the staff.” “At least he’s staying busy.”

“And do you not have a chef of your own, Edward? In a rather large estate where you live byyourself?” Edward could glean what his brother was implying. “I keep a chef for the future of my estate. I shallhave a wife, children, guests. In fact, I have guests already. There was a rather quaint party just lastnight.” Why did Edward feel the need to explain himself to his brother? He knew his own intentions, andEdward had a way of carrying through with all his intentions. It was in his nature to do so. “And when do you intend to have this wife?” Edward cleared his throat. “By the end of the year.” “Any prospects?” “Plenty of prospects, just a horrible case of indecision.” “You were always popular with the ladies. I’ll grant you that.” “You could be too, Norman. You know that you’re a fine-looking chap. You’re a Pembroke.” Edwardsmiled.

“Point taken.” In the silence that followed, Edward could hear the rain still pouring down outside. There’d be nochance to return to his estate after supper. “Have you a room prepared for me?” “I have upwards of twenty rooms prepared for you. Have your pick.” “Most kind.” Edward quickly finished his tea. The flavour was a tad too weak for his taste, but the temperature washot, and it warmed Edward’s bones. Not that he needed much warming because his naturaltemperature seemed to run high. He was famous for not wearing a coat in the winter, despiteHarrison’s suggestions. “Have you received correspondence from Lady Anna Rutley?” Edward was in shock that Norman knew of that. Lady Anna was a society woman that had sentEdward some courteous notes, but he could tell the intent behind them. Anna’s father was an earl thatEdward had met on several occasions. The gentleman was wealthy. Not as wealthy as Edward, but heclearly had aspirations for his daughter. Anna was kind enough, though there was something about herbearing, which Edward observed in all ladies of exquisite breeding. She was a tad cold. If onlyEdward could find someone that shared his same hot blood. “Anna is a very cordial lady. She has written to me on occasion.” “And what do you think of that? For the future?”

Edward had to laugh. “Brother, are you playing the matchmaker? Perhaps we should discuss yourown need for a wife.” Norman appeared flustered and got up from his seat, walking over to the window. “What would I dowith a wife?” “I can tell you precisely what to do with a wife.” “Don’t be crude, brother.” Edward shook his head. Why should it be crude to refer to matters of the flesh? It was natural andsomething that Edward relished. In fact, he greatly looked forward to having a wife that was just asenthusiastic about such matters. “I do not see it is crude. It shocks me that you do.” Norman began to ramble about other matters to change the subject. Edward poured more tea anddiscovered that it was already cold. Norman asked, “Should I ring the bell?” “Don’t bother. I’ll seek it out on foot.” Edward exited the library and walked down the hall. He’d askfor tea from the first servant that he encountered.

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