inspired him in the darkest battles of the war, but this was a different sort of beauty. There was a knowing that lent her grey eyes a deeper enchantment, as though she knew at last the weight of some hard thing, perhaps even some deeper responsibility. There was also a purity to the beauty that had been so raw and uncontrolled before, like a diamond that had been at last cut out of a stone to shine in all its brilliance.
Her skin looked like marble against the green gown that barely clung to her shoulders. Her hair was the same brilliant copper, but not a strand was out of place, and the way she held herself was so elegant and alluring…he forced his eyes to stay on her face. He did not know her situation, but he understood from the tension she had brought moments ago into this circle of men that she was still unclaimed by the handsome men of society.
“I am acquainted with Lady Margaret Somerville,” he said, acknowledging their shared friendship while also helping Andrew know the name of the vision standing before them.
“Acquainted?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I thought we were old friends.” There it was, the tenderness in her voice that reminded him of her heart. He had almost been able to believe that the creature before him was fully absorbed into the proper world of her father’s London, but that tone told him otherwise. There was a gentle side to her yet. “Will you walk with me, sir?” She held out her arm, and he took it without hesitation.
He wasn’t sure he had any choice in the matter, his heart and body moved to embrace her nearness as though they had never parted, even while his mind screamed at him to wait, to discover her other connections, to remind himself of her superior status and all that stood between them.
Margaret’s arm rested on his very lightly, not committing to any true nearness, but giving a little of herself nonetheless. They walked together to a secluded alcove in one corner of the room where a few bits of climbing ivy had been allowed to scramble around a pillar. It made for a quiet place to sit and talk, and Margaret took a seat on the bench. Nigel sat carefully beside her, a proper distance away, and looked at her.
“It has been so long,” Margaret said softly. “I didn’t know if I would ever see you again.”
“I know,” he said. He didn’t trust his voice to say anything more.
“Tell me,” she began nervously, “why did you not come back sooner? I know that the war has been over for some time, and all the other boys in the village returned. At least, the boys who…” she trailed off, but he finished the sentence for her, gravely.
“The boys who lived, you mean.”
She raised her eyes to his and he saw with a start that tears were swimming in the grey depths. “Nigel, you should have come back. I worried about you.”
“I thought you would have already been swept away in another life. I didn’t know you thought of me any longer.” He wanted to ask about her life now, but he couldn’t bear to break the spell she was weaving between them with those tears.
“There is much that is different in my life,” Margaret began, and then stopped herself. “I need not speak of all those matters now. I’m sure there will be plenty of time to talk about everything that has passed in your absence.”
“Perhaps,” Nigel said. He thought of all that had passed across the Channel, and his grip tightened slightly on his knee. War had not been a gallant thing for him. It had been full of blood and loss and the faces of friends who would haunt him forever. He wanted desperately to connect with the woman sitting before him, but he didn’t know how to tell her the things that still echoed in his heart.
She surprised him by reaching out and putting her hand lightly – very lightly – on his sleeve. “I know that much has passed that I do not understand,” she said quietly. “You do not need to think of ways to explain it to me now, but if you ever wish to share, I am here.”
“You are just the same,” he said. “And yet you are so different.”
She smiled, confused but clearly happy. “And you are entirely different,” she said with wide eyes, her voice taking on