Section I, Section II, Section III, Section IV

Part 7

tephen surveyed his appearance in the mirror as a knock came at his door. "Come in," he called out, absently straightening his sleeve from the cuff. He was surprised when his mother came in and stood behind him at the mirror.

Anne smiled at her tall son and brushed the back of his coat straight, "You're the image of your father," she said softly. "I sometimes don't see anything of myself in you."

Stephen turned around and hugged her small frame. She was getting frailer with the passing of the years, and yet she always seemed so indomitable. "I have your eyes, mother. I hope they see as clearly as yours do."

"I think they do," she replied smilingly. "I have always been proud of you."

"So this is where you are!" Stephen and Anne turned toward the door as Frederick strode in. "I might have known you'd abandoned me for a younger man."

"Well," Anne said mischievously. "I always did have a soft spot for a man in a uniform."

Frederick grinned broadly at them both. Stephen saw his father's eyes sharpen as he took note of his appearance. "Glad to see you wearing your uniform, son. I didn't walk around in regular clothing as much as you do."

Stephen merely smiled his reply. This was an old discussion which neither side ever won.

"If my memory serves me, I remember you were trying to impress a rather high spirited young woman at the time," Anne said.

"Were you very high spirited, mother?"

"I was not, no."

Disconcertingly, Frederick laughed and Anne suppressed a small smirk. "Your mother is reminding me that I can be a damned fool at times." He pulled at his sleeve and thrust it out toward his wife. "Help me with this, my darling. I'm becoming daft in my old age."

This from the man known for having the keenest mind in the Royal Navy, Stephen thought with amusement. He watched his parents solemnly, hoping that he would one day have as graceful a partnership as they. His thoughts drifted toward a young lady with unruly curls and a clay-smeared frock. If it happens, it will be with her.

Anne ran smoothing fingers through her husband's hair, now liberally marbled with gray and white strands. Aunt Mary began to call for her from below and from her tone, there was yet another arrangement amiss that night. Anne kissed both her men and left them for the lower floor. Stephen found himself being watched by penetrating eyes.

"You have a look to you I've only seen once before," Frederick said softly.

"What look is that?"

"The same one I had when I met your mother. Half hope, half agony...despicable emotion but delicious at the same time."

Stephen controlled his jaw from dropping open. His parents had always been openly affectionate with each other and with their children, but never had they discussed it with him before.

Frederick always knew when he had the upper hand and pressed on. "You look shocked, lad. Did you think we were blind? It's plain as day, you've fallen for a young lady. Anne and I have our suspicions, but we'd prefer you were open with us." There was another penetrating look. "Is she beautiful?"

"Yes. Very."

"And kind?"

"Yes."

Frederick rolled his eyes skyward. "This is harder than defeating Napoleon! Fine. Your secret is safe with me. Just invite us to the wedding, all right?"

"You'll meet her tonight."

"I know that much. The question is which sister?"

Stephen smiled, "The one that Walter isn't fainting over." Frederick's eyebrows arched with good natured humor. "The one I introduce to you and mother."

"Very good." Frederick said. "Walter's smitten as well? It must be the time of year."

"There's something I've wanted to speak to you about. About Walter." Seeing his father's attention shift back to him, Stephen continued. "Do you think Uncle Edward will be needing a curate anytime soon? Walter is taking orders, but is convinced he cannot marry until he has a living."

"And so he shouldn't," Frederick replied. "There is much to be said about starting life with a settled future." Stephen waited while his father's mind worked. "I will write to Edward. If he's not ready for a curate, he might know someone who is. Leave it to me."

"Thank you father."

Walter was in as bad a state as he was, as they waited for the Radcliffe family to arrive. Charles was enjoying the whole thing immensely but thought it better to keep his opinions to himself. He was occupied enough with bemoaning the upcoming visit he and his wife were obliged to make to her parents in Dorset.

"I hate traveling to Dorset. Such an old stuffy house. And my father-in-law always wanting me to play chess."

Stephen was only half listening to Charles, waiting for the sound of a carriage. Walter had turned his back on them completely to look out the window. "Don't play if you don't want to."

"I humor the old man. It's the only time he gets to win at chess, I think. Probably the reason he agreed to let me marry his daughter. He found a chess player worse than he!"

"They're here!" Walter hissed and hurried away from the door. He slapped Stephen on the shoulder, "Look nonchalant!"

Stephen's eyes met his father's at that moment. It was obvious that Frederick was close enough to overhear, because he didn't bother to hide the smirk from his son. Stephen felt his face heating up and wryly thought that he had inherited his mother's propensity to blush.

She hung back by the doorway as her mother and sister entered and were greeted by the elder Musgroves. Samantha and Mrs. Radcliffe were immediately introduced to Anne and Frederick, but fate was kind to Stephen and allowed his to approach Laura before anyone else.

"How are you this evening, Miss Radcliffe?"

She looked up at him and seemed a little startled. "I am very well, thank you."

He smiled as she seemed to run out of words, "Is something wrong?"

She started to laugh and blush. "I'm sorry. I've never seen you in your uniform before."

"Hideous, isn't it?"

"You are fishing for a compliment, I can tell. Well, sir, it is very becoming."

He bowed solemnly and replied, "Thank you." Then he offered her his arm.

She took it with a glint in her eye, "I believe the lesson called for a curtsy."

He leaned to whisper in her ear, "My parents wouldn't understand." He led her directly to them. Frederick put his arm around Anne's waist lightly to draw her attention and Stephen was amused that they drew themselves up to meet Laura. They want to make as good an impression on her as I do, he thought.

He made the proper introductions and stood back watching Laura charm both his parents. Anne and Laura were already deep in conversation about music when dinner was called. Stephen had the foresight to seat himself next to Laura. Walter had taken little encouragement to do the same with Samantha and Aunt Mary made no comments on the switching of place names. She did send the two men significant looks that could hardly be misunderstood. Dinner was a lively affair, with Frederick and Anne talking of their early years on the high seas, Mr. Musgrove and Charles junior recounting their affinity for shooting in great detail, and Mrs. Radcliffe and Aunt Mary chatting comfortably about the neighbors. It left much opportunity for private conversation with Laura.

"How do you like my parents?"

Laura's shining eyes regarded him with mirth. "They are absolutely lovely people! So warm and welcoming. And they seemed to have had an exciting life together." She again watched Anne as she corroborated yet another of Frederick's stories. "I can't imagine having traveled as far as they."

"Can't you? Have you no wish to do so?"

Laura looked at him quite seriously. "Wishes have nothing to do with it. I would see everything and every place that I could. But outside of London, my family had always been settled in one place. You grow used to such things when you are a woman."

"What does being a woman have to do with travel?"

"Well, it is more cumbersome to travel when you are a woman. If you are single, you must be accompanied by a parent or a chaperone. If you are married, you must travel with your husband. If you are elderly, you must travel with your children or your nurse. Travel is planned far in advance. There are part of places you are forbidden to go, chaperoned or not. There is not the spontaneity of decision and movement that a man has when he travels."

"I agree that men have more flexibility in journeying. But surely you don't think women should be allowed to go to the rougher parts of a city?"

Laura shook her head, "I find it hard to believe that a woman in her right mind would want to go to any such environment. But is simply the fact that we are not allowed to at all. Instead of being treated as rational creatures, our ability to decide for ourselves has been stripped."

Stephen could find nothing to say to this that would not offend and so kept his peace.

Laura saw through his silence however and touched his arm. "Forgive me for my bluntness. I do not mean to imply that I resent any such actions. I know enough women who have little sense to recommend themselves. Such restrictions are for their benefit."

"I would not call you a woman of little sense. Everything you have thus said to me is perfectly logical." Stephen did not dishonor her by treating the subject dismissively. "Miss Radcliffe, I am not so illiberal a man as to want to be a woman's jailer. There are some restrictions in society that I ill understand. As well as some that I recommend. I can only imagine how frustrating such things must be for someone with your intelligence and understanding."

"Thank you for that," Laura said. "I hope I have not offended you."

Her fingers were still on his arm and he reached to touch them lightly. Her eyes widened as if to realize that she was still gripping him. "There can be nothing offensive in an honest opinion." She regarded him for a moment, as if assessing his sincerity. Stephen met gaze for gaze squarely and was rewarded for it with a luminous smile and a light squeeze on his arm before her attention was claimed by Aunt Mary. The ladies were retiring from the room so the men could have their port and cigars. His eyes did not leave her until she disappeared out the door after the ladies retired to the parlour.

With young people in the house, it was inevitable that there was music and dancing. Samantha was the first to introduce a Scottish tune and Frederick pulled Anne to her feet. She protested mildly while he said good naturedly, "Nonsense, my love. The next thing I know you'll be playing for all the rest of us! I must get my dance before you abandon me for the piano bench!"

Laura laughed as Anne complied and Stephen was not far behind in requesting her participation. Charles pulled his wife and Mr. Musgrove deigned to ask Mrs. Radcliffe over his wife, who was again bemoaning the state of her health. Walter busied himself with turning pages for the pianist. There was much laughter as the couples stumbled through old fashioned steps and Stephen thought he had never spent a happier evening. At the end of the song, there was some switching of partners as Anne insisted that Walter and Samantha dance, as young people would. She played another lively tune and Stephen called on his aunt to join the merriment as his father twirled Mrs. Radcliffe and Mr. Musgrove caught his breath on the sofa. Charles was dancing with Laura for his wife had declared herself tired and every so often Stephen caught her eye and smiled. He was continually encouraged by her looks and responses.

It seemed a eon before he could reclaim her for another dance. She was prettily flushed and declined a third dance in favor of sitting on the piano bench with Anne.

"So you play, Miss Radcliffe?" Anne softly asked.

"No, ma'am. I'm afraid there was talent enough only for one and my sister claimed that!"

"Don't let her fool you, mother," Stephen said from his post next to Laura. "She had a beautiful singing voice. Beware, Miss Radcliffe, my mother and I are very fond of music and will request to hear you sing an aria."

Laura blushed and mock glared at Stephen. "I would have to call you ungallant, if you do. You have danced me out of breath and would now ask me to regain it for song?"

Anne laughed gaily at the repartee, "That would be most ungentlemanly of you, Stephen. I would hate to be responsible for such behavior."

"Do not let her fool you, mother. She pretends at bashfulness in company and yet I have heard her raise her voice to sing to an open field."

"You heard the chirping of birds," Laura retorted. "Besides, there is a vast difference between idle songs when I thought I was alone and performing for an audience. The first, may I remind you, ought to have been private, the second is terrifying."

Anne could not help laughing at the saucy reply. Stephen smiled his amusement at her, "Are you claiming stage fright?"

"Stage, parlour, dining hall...audience fright...I claim it all. If I had thought anyone was listening while I roamed the hills, I would have croaked rather than sung. I must remember to be more circumspect now that the likes of you are hiding behind bushes and brambles."

Now Stephen joined in his mother's laughter. "If you will not acquiesce to a song, perhaps I can tempt you to another dance. It is too late for you to claim an aversion to that pastime!"

Stephen passed his father as he led Laura to the dancing floor. Mr. Musgrove was again on his feet, with his wife this time. Walter was dancing with Mrs. Radcliffe and Charles with Samantha. His mother began a waltz and Stephen sent a suspicious glance toward the piano and received a wink from his father who had seated himself next to Anne and placed an arm around her waist.

Stephen was happy enough to draw Laura closer and again a small, intimate silence reigned as they danced. She did not blush to meet his eye now. Instead there was a mysterious smile on her face as she regarded him that made him wish he were privy to her thoughts. Soon, he thought to himself. Soon it will be right for me to ask her. Soon I will have the right to know what thoughts make her smile at me thus.

So engrossed were they in each other that they did not remember the obeisance required at the end. They turned as one toward the seats and Laura gasped as a familiar person made a wall between herself and the sofa. Stephen felt her bump against him as she took an involuntary step back and instinctively gripped her arms. He looked toward the source of her startlement and found himself face to face with Samuel Elliot.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Radcliffe," Samuel said smoothly. "I did not mean to alarm you."

"Not at all, Mr. Elliot." Laura smoothly replied. She stepped out of Stephen's arms and graciously allowed Mr. Elliot to kiss her hand. She gave a swift look back at Stephen as she excused herself and took a seat next to her sister. Stephen stepped back to allow Samuel further entrance into the room.

A heavy silence descended on the room as his presence became known to all the occupants. Mr. Musgrove got up awkwardly and welcomed the newcomer. Samuel accepted a drink and smiled as he held court.

"I apologize for the intrusion," Samuel began without a hint of apology in his smooth voice. "But I have come to issue an invitation. My parents, Sir William and Elizabeth Elliot of Kellynch Hall would be delighted if you would join us for dinner and cards Saturday night." He handed the invitation with a most proper bow to Mary Musgrove. "I apologize, Mrs. Radcliffe, my mother has an invitation for you and your daughters. I did not anticipate seeing you here tonight. May I call tomorrow to deliver it properly?"

"Of course," said Mrs. Radcliffe with a smile. Stephen caught her sideways glance at Laura, who flushed and looked at Samantha. "We are always delighted by your company, sir."

Stephen tried to keep a stoic expression as this reply carried to him. The implication was clear enough. Samuel Elliot had called on Laura Radcliffe in the past and Mrs. Radcliffe, at least, was not disinterested in his prospects. It was the first time Stephen wished he had a Kellynch Hall in his future. He met Laura's worried eyes calmly and even managed a small smile at her. She did not look relieved, rather her worry seemed to deepen.

Samuel walked to where Anne and Frederick were situated. Frederick was standing with one hand on Anne's shoulder as she sat on the piano bench. He gave a courtly bow.

"Aunt Anne, Uncle Frederick, it is a delight to see you."

Frederick returned the bow, though Stephen caught the hardening of his features. Anne smiled at her nephew and attempted to smooth things over. "How is your mother?"

"She is very well, though she is a trifle hurt that you have not called on her."

Anne's eyes flickered, "There has not been an opportunity. But I will be happy to do so soon."

"You are both invited to dinner and cards as well," Samuel said. "Though father states that you are no lover of card games."

"Indeed not. That is well known," Frederick replied.

"I have not the facility for cards as some others," Anne said, lifting one hand up to cover Frederick's.

"I am sure Father will think of something to entertain you, then," Samuel said. "He is always concerned for the welfare of his guests."

Stephen could see Frederick's ire rising as he joined the trio. The rest of the room was surreptitiously watching the tense interchange, but Samatha and Laura wisely began engaging the other in conversation.

"Does the invitation include me as well, Samuel?" Stephen asked cheekily.

"Of course, cousin," Samuel said. "What would we do without your wit at the dinner table?"

"What indeed?" Stephen asked, wondering what his cousin was up to.

"Please extend our regards to your parents and our acceptance of the invitation." Anne said. It was graciously given and Stephen admired the finesse with which Anne ended the conversation and the environment of tension.

Samuel grinned wolfishly again and took his leave. "I will be going now. Again, may I apologize for the intrusion. Till Saturday!"

The festive mood that had enveloped this group had evaporated completely. Stephen stood with his parents solemnly, as Frederick let go his grip on Anne's shoulder and again took his seat.

"Insolent puppy!" Frederick growled.

Anne patted her husband's knee. "Do not upset yourself, Frederick. Better this way. We attend this dinner and our obligations to Kellynch are done."

"How can you be so calm after all that's happened between our families?"

"Because Elizabeth is still my sister and I love her, despite her faults." Anne sighed deeply. "I even manage to feel pity for Samuel. He is too young to have such a twisted demeanor."

"Samuel has been wretched since the day he was born." Stephen stated and earned himself a reproving look from Anne. "You know that is the truth."

"It is not always in your best interest to speak bluntly, Stephen." Anne said. "People with sense and education prefer tact and discretion. Your father and I raised you to be above such remarks."

"Yes, we did," Frederick agreed, "though I thoroughly agree with him, Anne. Honesty is best within the family at all time." Frederick looked away. "Samuel even looks like his blasted father."

There was a different note to his father's voice as he made the final statement, and Stephen walked away as Anne eased the turmoil in Frederick. This was another of their private mysteries, and Stephen knew from long experience when it was best to leave them alone.

Half-hearted conversations continued at the other end of the room, and Stephen listened but did not join in. There was no room for him next to Laura on the sofa, and Stephen did not feel equal to expressing any opinions at the moment. There were several shy glances from that young lady that Stephen received with a smile, but he did not approach. When the clock struck ten, Mrs. Radcliffe announced herself tired and took leave. Samantha and Laura obediently stood and said good-bye to everyone. Stephen was happy to note the warmth between her and his parents. Mr. Musgrove gave Mrs. Radcliffe his arm to the door leaving Walter and Stephen to care for the younger Misses Radcliffe.

Stephen watched silently as Laura donned her coat. He and Walter assisted the ladies into their carriage with Laura entering last. He was surprised when she came closer and extended her hand to him. He took it tenderly and lifted it to his lips.

"Thank you for entertaining me so well this evening." She said softly. "I have never been happier."

Her words soothed him and he smiled at her again, "I must claim the greater pleasure for your company, madam." He handed her into the carriage and closed it up firmly. Her face was the last thing he saw as he watched it fade into the distance. Walter sighed next to him and with a soft slap on the shoulder re-entered Uppercross. Stephen stayed outside a little longer, fancying that he could still hear the rattle of the carriage. A hard shoulder, level to his own, bumped him gently from behind.

Stephen half turned, but already knew it was his father standing there. He was the only one tall enough for such a greeting.

"Well done, Stephen." Frederick said softly. "Well done, indeed. Your mother and I are quite pleased with your choice."

"Do you think we would suit, Father?" Stephen asked wistfully.

"I think you're dragging your feet unnecessarily." Stephen raised an eyebrow at his father. "But what do I know?" Frederick continued with an unrepentant grin. "It took me nine years to marry the same woman."

Stephen laughed as his father put an arm around his shoulders and led him back inside.

"So, tell me your strategy for tomorrow." Frederick asked.

"I am going to call on the Radcliffe ladies," Stephen said matter-of-factly. He had no intention of allowing Samuel a single private moment with Laura.

"Good boy," approved his father.

Part 8

The day dawned crisp and cold as Stephen sleeplessly peered over the quiet grounds of Uppercross. He had gotten precious little sleep, for every time he closed his eyes he saw visions of Laura wed to Samuel. And the thought made him sick. Was his father right? Was he waiting unnecessarily to formalize his suit?

The house was quiet as he dressed and slipped outside. He strolled a short distance away, feeling the bite of the morning fog as it slept close to the ground. It would be hours before he could call on the Radcliffe house. Plenty of time to get more rest, though he knew it to be impossible. It was confusing to be so sure of the woman, but unsure of the next phase to follow. He was unsure if he was ready to spend life with one woman only. And yet, there was no other to whom his heart tended. And he would not be easy regarding her interest in him. Could he be mistaking her openness for affection when she meant only friendship? Too many questions. Too few answers.

Quietly, he slipped back into his chambers and clambered, fully clothed, back into bed. As exhaustion claimed him for a few more hours, he determined that the next few days would settle his fears and his future.

There was already another horse standing knotted to the Radcliffe fence when Stephen arrived. He cursed himself for not coming sooner and cursed Samuel even more for disregarding propriety in order to call first. That Mrs. Radcliffe was surprised to see him was obvious. That Laura was happy to see him was a relief.

"Well now," Mrs. Radcliffe said as she poured a cup of tea for Stephen, "we are popular today. To what can we owe the pleasure of your company today, lieutenant?"

Samuel smiled at him, leaning back to wait for the reply. Stephen found himself at a loss for an answer, not having expected to justify his interest in the members -- or at least one member -- of this household.

"Mama, I asked the good lieutenant to come today," Laura cut in smoothly. Stephen tried his best not to look surprised. "He has purchased one of my vases for Mrs. Wentworth. I hope," she continued with an arch look at Stephen, "that you have not reconsidered your purchase."

Stephen could not stop the immense warmth he felt from showing in his smile, "Hardly, Miss Radcliffe. In fact, I am so pleased with the gift that I am considering purchasing another one for my sister. She is a lover of fine handiwork."

Samuel was hardly pleased with the turn in the conversation. "Miss Radcliffe, you have been keeping secrets from me. I did not know you were such a craftsman."

"Craftswoman," Laura corrected slyly. Stephen had to bite down hard on his tongue to prevent the smirk from surfacing.

Mrs. Radcliffe was staring narrowly at her eldest daughter. There was a hint of displeasure in her demeanor, but Laura bore it with equanimity, smiling back at her mother serenely. Stephen could see Samantha lift a napkin up from her lap to stifle her own giggle of amusement.

"My daughter is quite the artist," Mrs. Radcliffe said to Samuel. "I wonder that she has kept it a secret."

"I would be delighted if you would show me some of your pieces, Miss Radcliffe. My curiosity is piqued." Samuel requested.

"Anyone may see my pieces, Mr. Elliot. There is no secret to my work. They are displayed in the local potter's shop, quite proudly, may I add. As to whether or not I may be considered an artist," Laura delicately deflected the opinion, "I will leave that to the capable opinions of others unrelated to me."

Mrs. Radcliffe seemed offended by the remark, "Is my word to be so lightly taken then?"

Laura laughed, "Not at all, mother! I merely mean that you would look upon my work the same way as you listen to Samantha's music. With the loving bias of a parent. I have never heard you speak an ill word of either of our efforts."

Samantha reinforced this thought, "Indeed, mother. You have heard me hit wrong notes many times only to say that the piece ought to have been played so."

Mrs. Radcliffe smiled her approval at her daughters, before turning to the gentlemen. "I am afraid my daughters are correct. I will persist in believing them the most talented of their generation."

Samuel was ready with his remark, "Then, Miss Radcliffe, I must join the ranks of the biased. For sight unseen, I believe I would prefer your work to any multitude of artisans."

Laura's eyes rolled challengingly toward Stephen. "And you, sir? Have you an opinion?"

Stephen smiled slowly, considering his words carefully. "I have had the pleasure of viewing your work, madam. I can make no claims toward the understanding of the finer details of craftsman...excuse me... craftswomanship. A sailor does not often come in contact with the art world. But I know what I like and what pleases my eye." He deliberately paused while Laura raised an eyebrow at him in mirth. "I find I look for truth in expression more than what society deems popular. If I see a piece with evidence of the artist's dedication, passion, and sincerity, it is enough to win my approval. Your work, madam, has more than met these standards -- meager though they would seem to more learned masses."

Laura flushed prettily and seemed at a loss for words. Stephen was surprised to find Mrs. Radcliffe smiling at him quite benignly. Perhaps I am meeting her standards as well, he thought with satisfaction. She offered him more tea which he accepted gracefully. He caught a surreptitious wink from Samantha and a smile indicating her approval. Laura was staring at her shoes and would not meet his gaze.

Stephen could feel the heat of Samuel's stare. He did not return it, knowing that would irritate his cousin all the more. For the first time, he felt himself to have the upperhand and he meant to keep it.

"I must insist, Miss Radcliffe, on a private viewing of your work," Samuel said, with more superiority in his voice than he realized.

All the Radcliffe ladies stiffened at the young man's presumption. Laura's expression changed to sterness as she swiftly glanced up at him. "I am sure the local potter will be more than happy to oblige you, sir." She then turned the conversation toward other topics, leaving Samuel to stew silently.

Stephen was aware that he would be blamed for Samuel's faux pas with this family. There was a part of him that pitied his cousin's inability to interact with people as equals. With the emphasis of rank and class firmly stamped on him since birth, he would never enjoy the company of others without having to first measure his own worth against theirs. Samuel did not regain his former ease as he stumbled through the rest of the visit. Stephen kept his own remarks to a minimum, hoping his reticence would spare Samuel more uncomfortable moments of comparison.

Finally, the approved interval for a call elapsed and Samuel got up, almost hasty with his eagerness to be off. Again, both Radcliffe sisters escorted the gentlemen to the door.

Samuel bowed formally to them and turned expectantly toward Stephen. "Shall we ride together part of the way?" He said stiffly. Neither of them could think of a worse situation in which to place themselves.

"I thank you, no," Stephen replied. "Miss Radcliffe and I still have some business to conduct."

Samuel sent him a barely disguised glare. Both sisters looked uncomfortable with the open animosity. Laura, ever gracious and quick to ease a situation, extended her hand to Samuel. "Thank you for bringing the invitation in person, Mr. Elliot. We appreciate your kindness and attention to our family. Such graciousness of welcome is rare in so impersonal a place as London. Please extend our warmest regards to your parents for their condescension."

There was one thing Stephen always admired in Samuel and that was his ability to assess a situation and step away when he did not have the advantage. He accepted Laura's hand with grace and made his way back home. Stephen stared at his retreating back with some relief. Samantha disappeared inside the house and left her sister regarding him with amusement.

"I suppose," Stephen began, "that we should venture to your studio and conduct our business. If only to prove our veracity with your mother."

Laura was wearing a deceptively emotionless expression, "My mother rarely ventures into my studio. She does not like the smell of clay. If you prefer to leave, she would be none the wiser."

Stephen offered her his arm, "I prefer to select a vase for my sister."

Laura rewarded him with a smile and took his arm. It was a short but companionable stroll to the back of the house where the shed waited. Stephen looked around and could not find the item with his fingerprint on it.

Laura looked at him with amusement. "I have sent it to be fired with the others."

Stephen regarded her, "Fingerprint and all?"

"Absolutely. Makes it a true original, don't you think? No other customer can claim to have had a hand in fashioning their own purchase."

Stephen laughed, "True, true." He made a brief pretense of looking at half finished pieces. "Why did you tell your mother that I was here to view pottery?"

Laura shrugged and turned away so he could not see her face, "Mother likes to have a reason for everything. It seemed easier."

"Why not the truth?"

She briefly glanced over her shoulder at him, "What do you mean?"

"Why not tell her that I came to see you?"

"Did you?" She queried wistfully. "Or did you come to playfight with your cousin?"

He stepped closer, "Is that what you think is going on?"

"Isn't it?"

"No. And I don't believe you think that anymore than I do." Stephen ventured a little closer, though her back was still turned to him. "Perhaps you are worried that your mother has already made her choice for you."

"My choices are my own," Laura said firmly. She sighed deeply and faced him. "I am afraid that my mother only sees Kellynch Hall when she sees Mr. Elliot."

"What do you see?"

Laura paused to think and select her words carefully, "I see a man who will do anything to compete with his cousin."

Stephen came closer still, "What do you see when you look at me?" She would have turned away, so he placed a gentle finger under her chin, raising her face to look at his. There was a hint of tears in her eyes and it struck him deeply.

"I don't know." She said softly. "You confuse me." She tore her gaze away and stepped back. "Please take your time and select any of the pieces you wish for your sister. You are very kind of have come to see us today. Good day to you, sir." She stammered before turning her heel and leaving hurriedly.

Stephen stood motionless in the studio for long minutes, alternately cursing his propensity to rush when gentleness was called for and wallowing in happiness that Laura did not retain any shred of regard for Samuel. He took an unseeing look around him before stepping back out into the sunshine.

He walked calmly to his horse and untethered it. As he seated himself on the stallion, he spied a familiar face in a second floor window. Laura was looking at him with that same hint of tears and confusion on his face. He could not bear to leave her like that but there was nothing he could do. He knew his only obstacle now. She doubted his sincerity.

He longed to be able to hold her close and whisper all the things that would erase that expression from her face. Instead he tipped his hat at her and smiled. He waited until she returned the expression, though there was a half heartedness to it. It would have to do for today, Stephen thought as he wended his way home.

Part 9

here was nothing about Kellynch Hall that reminded Stephen of a home. The hall was brightly lit with beeswax candles, every inch of wood and brass gleaming coldly. Aunt Elizabeth was standing ready to greet her guests, the same cold hautiness lifting her chin and twisting her thin lips into the semblance of a smile.

Anne ventured forward first and kissed her sister and nephew on the cheek. She curtsied with grace to Sir William just as Frederick stepped closer to his wife.

"It is very good to see you again, Anne," Sir William said softly. "Your presence always enriches Kellynch. It seems that the very grounds miss you."

Stephen did not miss the stiffening of his father's body and the anger that briefly flashed across Elizabeth's expression. Anne, herself, was the picture of serenity as she folded her hands together and replied, "Mr. Elliot, you have always been given to exaggeration. I hope you do not intend to embarrass me with too much flattery."

Sir William's eyes glittered down at her, "You always allowed yourself to be flattered too little."

Anne smiled at this, "Not at all. Frederick may flatter me all he wishes. I find I do not mind his attentions." She half turned toward Frederick and extended her hand to him.

He stepped up confidently and bowed lightly at Sir William. "Elliot," he said by way of greeting.

Sir William returned the bow with as little civility as he dared, "Wentworth."

"Shall we go in?" Elizabeth broke in and led the group into the parlour.

Stephen searched the parlour room. Samantha was already deep in conversation with Walter and the rest of the Musgroves smiled with warmth and relief at his family party. Laura was standing quietly next to her mother. Mrs. Radcliffe was busy admiring the room and did not notice the entrance of the Wentworths. Once in a while, Mrs. Radcliffe would see something of particular value and would grasp Laura's arm for attention. Stephen watched this process repeat over and over until Laura impatiently shook off her mother's hand and ventured toward a window.

"There are some things that a smart uniform cannot compete with," Samuel purred into his ear.

"You place too much value in baubles," Stephen countered smoothly.

"Shower a woman in baubles and she will be yours forever," his cousin declared.

Stephen met Samuel's stare with something close to loathing. "I pity you if you believe that. Such women are plentiful enough, but there are others who rise above these low standards."

Samuel laughed with glee, "You will persist in being a romantic, Stephen."

"I do, indeed. It helps me experience the finer things in life." Stephen smiled condescendingly at Samuel. "Perhaps you are right to stick to more mundane things. Then you will never be disappointed." He walked away and was accosted by Charles.

"Meow," Charles commented. "Things were never this bad between you and Samuel before. What am I missing?" He gave a quick glance to where a young woman was still staring out a window. "Perhaps I know." He patted his pocket. "Oh, for the love of five pounds!"

"For God's sake, lower your voice Charles," hissed Stephen. "Such remarks are beneath you. And completely inappropriate!"

Stephen saw his parents approach both Laura and her mother. Pleasantries were exchanged as Stephen joined them. Mrs. Radcliffe was as friendly as she liked and Anne soon engaged her in casual conversation about Kellynch Hall. Laura was silent and brooding, looking at anything and anyone rather than him.

"You look beautiful this evening, Miss Radcliffe." She acknowledge his compliment well but did not venture further. There was a new awareness between them, and a reticence on her part. He wanted to break through this withdrawal, but did not know how. All that he could have said and done to soothe her fears were hardly appropriate for a room crowded with people.

She was seated next to Samuel during dinner and Stephen's jealous eyes saw the ease of conversation between them. He envied every smile she summoned and every laugh she gave as Samuel did his utmost to entertain and converse with her. There were occasional glances his way, sometimes from a satisfied Samuel, but more often from a somber Laura when Samuel's attention was diverted to someone else. He met these glances questioningly, but was situated too far down the table to converse with her. He had no appetite for the meal, as lavish as it was. She seemed to play with her food as much as he, despite the seeming joviality of her companion.

Frederick seemed to be faring no better. Anne was seated next to Sir William at one end of the table while he was seated next to Elizabeth at the other end. He had less to say to his sister-in-law tonight than any other night as both of them surreptitiously surveyed their spouses at the other end. Stephen knew Frederick would not suspect Anne of any wrong behavior, he was too busy being suspicious of Sir William. It was up to Elizabeth to summoned every jealous notion she ever held against her sister. The Musgroves did their best to introduce easy conversations and topics. But even Mrs. Radcliffe seemed to acknowledge the undercurrent of family tension. Stephen felt a momentary pang of anger that the Radcliffe family had been subjected to an evening of unresolved issues in which they had no part.

Stephen joined his father at a far end of the room as the gentlemen drank their port and smoked their cigars. Sir William and Samuel were being regaled with another hunting story by the elder Mr. Musgrove and the two Musgrove sons were in a conversation of their own.

"Miserable evening," muttered Frederick.

"Agreed. I'd rather visit the tooth pullers." Stephen said in a low voice. "This is the one societal obligation I begrudge."

"As do I. Did you see Sir William trying to charm your mother. Poor thing. She has so much forbearance." Frederick looked at his son sharply. "I did notice the particular attentions of Master Samuel to a certain young lady. Has something happened between the two of you to cause a rift."

Stephen's brow furrowed worriedly, "I think she has doubts about my sincerity. I am satisfied that she has a clear view of Samuel's motives and yet the obvious competition between us casts shadows on my own."

Frederick sighed heavily. "These misconstructions and obscurities can spell disaster in a budding relationship. We are sailors, you and I, and better suited to strategies and operations in which obstacles can be clearly defined and discarded. Matters of the heart, and the tender feelings of women, will never follow a straight, discernible course. "

"Well I have come to know it, father."

Frederick smiled at his dejected son, "The truth, unblemished and unvarnished, will always see you through. In these matters, men must take greater risks and leave themselves vulnerable. It is better to have all matters in the open so that they cannot become a thorn on your side."

Stephen smiled, "Sounds more like a philosophy on life than a way to a woman's heart."

"I have wasted enough time misunderstanding my own motivations to wish you anything less than perfect clarity." Frederick replied. "I make no guarantees that this philosophy makes life much easier. Women's thoughts and emotions continue to be a mystery to me as they are to most men. In over 30 years of life with your mother, there are still moments when I realize I have erred but know not how."

It was perhaps a blessing that Sir William did not allow the men to linger for more than three quarters of a hour over their drinks before joining the ladies. Stephen was anxious for an opportunity to speak with Laura and Frederick was eager for the night to end as quickly as possible.

Elizabeth was quick to have card tables set up and players assigned. Stephen was on his guard when Samuel invited him to join the card table that included Laura and the younger Mrs. Musgrove. He agreed knowing that his desire to be hear Laura also gave Samuel opportunity to discredit him in her eyes.

Samuel seated Laura with a flourish and declared himself her partner. Stephen smiled at his partner and seated her before settling on a chair between Samuel and Laura.

"I give you the choice, Miss Radcliffe. Shall we play Whist or Euchre?" Samuel asked as he shuffled the cards.

Laura flushed, "Do you have a preference, Mrs. Musgrove?"

The other lady smiled, "I am hopeless at all card games equally. But I do better at Whist than most games, I suppose."

Stephen nodded quietly when Laura looked for his approval and Samuel began dealing the cards. Silence descended on the group as thirteen cards were dealt and pondered over.

"So Stephen, have you gotten any new orders yet?" Samuel ventured without looking up from his cards.

"No, I have not."

"Hmmm...I hear many rumblings about upcoming voyages," Samuel persisted. "Come now, we are both Eton men, you can tell me."

"There is nothing to tell. I have received no new orders." Stephen said calmly. "If I did, it would be most improper for me to speak freely of them, in any case."

"A pity. I did so want confirmation of what the chaps at my club say is about to happen over in the Indies. Perhaps your brother-in-law would be of greater assistance to me since he seems destined for a political life."

"Ethan is doing well for himself." Stephen acknowledged.

"Yes, he is." Samuel agreed. "It was very wise of Jessica to choose a spouse outside of the family line of work. She, at least, has a guarantee that her husband comes home every night."

Stephen flushed and realized where Samuel was going with this conversation. "Many soldiers will disagree with you. We live more ordinary lives than is supposed. We are privileged to spend more time with our families than some men, I think."

"Yes, if you count time spent in large chunks separated by months of absence." Samuel sighed. "That life does not suit me. I could not spend so much time away from my loved ones and then be dumped on shore with little to do or amuse myself with."

"An active mind will always find occupation, Mr. Elliot." Laura interrupted quietly. She called trumps and smiled at her partner. She then gathered the cards and began to shuffle and deal them to the players.

Stephen admired her calm and was happy at this proof that she did not resent him. But Samuel was still armed and prepared to do battle.

"You are quite wise, Miss Radcliffe. An active mind will never want for exercise. But I must question whether such exercise is fruitful."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"I mean that much energy and thought can be displayed and wasted on inconsequential matters such as shooting parties or dances or..."

"Gambling?" Stephen added slyly. Samuel shot him a hard look.

"My husband excels in shooting as does my father in law," Mrs. Musgrove protested. "Surely you cannot look down on an exercise that provides entertainment to the participant as well as food to our tables?" Stephen found a new respect for Charles' wife when she continued with a concerned look, "And Mr. Elliot, surely you cannot begrudge women the amusement of a dance?"

Samuel was taken aback by the opinion of a woman he had discounted when he sat down to play cards. "I do not begrudge anyone, any form of entertainment madam. You mistake me. I mean only that such activities must not comprise the whole of one's thoughts and existence."

Laura began to smirk to her cards as Mrs. Musgrove persisted, "I must say that no one in my acquaintance is so single-minded as to forgo the more important duties of day to day life for mere amusement. The very idea is impractical."

"Impractical or not, madam, there are those who make such choices." Stephen said softly. Samuel looked surprised at Stephen's defense of his point. "There are many men who would chose convenience over practicality and ease over difficulty -- regardless of what the right road might be."

"Correct, Stephen," Samuel agreed with narrowed eyes. "And that is where education separates men of distinction from the masses."

"Are you suggesting, sir, that men of education have not fallen to habits of vice?" Laura queried. Stephen could see that she was quite interested in the turn of the conversation. "For I would have to fault your learning of history, sir. Even kings have displayed their propensity to learn bad habits."

Mrs. Musgrove called trumps and the game came to an end. As that lady began to deal a new game, Samuel tried to press his point once more.

"You must allow, Miss Radcliffe, that an educated man will go farther than one who is not."

"In some professions it is required to be learned, I agree."

"That is precisely my point. In all the higher levels of society, the preponderance of good breeding and education makes for dominance in matters of national import."

"That is more a symptom of wealth than merit, sir," was Laura's surprising reply. "You forget the growing masses of wealthy merchants whose children will be better educated than their ancestors."

Stephen smiled at her, delighted in her quick wit and wide knowledge. She was a spitfire when challenged.

Samuel was quickly becoming discomfited with the conversation and his inability to embarrass Stephen. "Perhaps I am lucky then to have the acquaintance of the sons of noble houses. I find them to be a fountain of good conversation and spicy information. There is much to be said about the agreements and understanding between gentlemen of means and power. Our world is run by such secrets, my dear." Samuel leaned forward as if to give a confidence to those at the table. "For example, I have heard that a sizable expedition is to be mounted for the Indies. There is much investment in that part of the world and much to be gained from a rich land as well."

"It sounds like an exciting prospect," Mrs. Musgrove commented.

"And ambitious," Stephen added. "And very much like something in which our politicians and noblemen would expend their energies and those of military men."

"Exactly," Samuel crowed. "I have heard it will be nothing short of a glorious military operation. I even hear that the Navy's shoulder will be tapped. So come clean with what you know Stephen. You are amongst your nearest and dearest, are you not?"

Stephen caught and held Laura's surreptitious gaze. "I am. But I can offer neither confirmation or denial. I have heard no such reports or rumors and have had no orders."

"I must say I am surprised...and disappointed. I had thought you better informed since you are related to, not one, but two admirals in the navy." Samuel scoffed amiably. "But I suppose the camaraderie and chat of Cambridge and Oxford graduates in the upper echelons do not always translate into verifiable information."

"Did you study at Oxford or Cambridge, Mr. Elliot?" Asked Mrs. Musgrove.

"Cambridge. A most enlightened university."

"Did you go too, Stephen?" Mrs. Musgrove asked.

"I did not, no."

"You were an Oxford man then?" Samuel said with a smirk.

Stephen clenched his teeth as Samuel drove his arrows home. He knew Laura was watching him as closely as his cousin. "You know I am not, Samuel. I joined the Navy when I turned 18."

Samuel nodded with seeming sadness. "It is a pity. I believe you would have gone far with the proper education. Men must have a learned mind to advance in this life, Miss Radcliffe. It is a sorry truth to our existence."

Stephen drew in a harsh, ragged breath, unable to control his temper at the face of such a bold insult. His mind whirled as he tried to hold down the curses he wanted to hurl at his cousin, his mouth contorting with a sneer. He felt a hard bump on his foot and, with surprise, saw the warning light in Laura's eyes. There was sympathy there as well, and it was her recognition of Samuel's spite that cooled his ire.

"I am afraid that I cannot agree with you, Mr. Elliot," Laura said strongly. "My father was quite successful in his business and quite well informed. He did not have the benefit of either Cambridge or Oxford to his name, but was rather a self made, self taught man. I am quite proud of him. He was a good man, who cared for us deeply and was respected by his peers and his neighbors." Samuel's eyes widened as he realized his barbed slurs had injured an unintended target. "While I cannot argue the benefits of higher education, I must say that all the books and scholarships in the world would be useless if a man did not have inherent drive, ambition, curiosity and focus of purpose. Those, sir, will overcome the efforts of a learned, but spendthrift, man in any occasion."

Samuel leaned back with a derisive look on his face as Laura finished her quiet tirade. Mrs. Musgrove, with jaw dropped open in disbelief, hesitantly declared trumps again and ended the game. Stephen could not look away from Laura, his anger completely drained in the face of her flushed cheeks and fiery expression.

"I can see my husband's table has taken a short recess from their game," Mrs. Musgrove said. "Let us do the same. Mr. Elliot, if you would escort me to that table, perhaps my husband can share some of the joy he has in shooting parties. Perhaps that will change your opinion of the pursuit somewhat."

Samuel could not, or would not, escape the near command. Stephen stood when Mrs. Musgrove left the table, taking Samuel with her. Laura was still holding her cards tightly and as she relinquished them to the table, Stephen noticed her hands shaking.

He looked around and found that no one, not even the vigilant Samuel, was watching them. He took her hand gently and pulled her to her feet. She looked up at him warily.

"Perhaps a breath of fresh air will do us both some good," he suggested as he wound her hand around his arm and walked with her toward an open window.

The sweet smell of the roses mingled with the scent of wildflowers in her hair as a soothing breeze reached their faces. Stephen did not say anything, realizing that silence would soothe Laura more than speech. He could not resist taking her hand and pressing his lips to it in gratitude and affection.

"You did not deserve such treatment," Laura said softly at length as she let go his hand. "I am sorry for my part in that shameful conversation. But I could not keep my countenance on the face of such pointed malice."

"You were magnificent," Stephen whispered to her. "I could not wish for a better defender. Nor could your father. I wish I had met him, if only for the chance to tell him he could be as proud of you as you are of him."

Laura blushed. "He was a good man. I miss him so much sometimes. You would have gotten along well, I think. And he would have liked your father as well. There are moments when I am struck by a familiar expression or phrase. They have much the same manner."

"My parents like you very much as well." Stephen confided. He leaned back against the low window pane and sighed. "If anyone is to be ashamed between us, it is I. There are many things that happen in families that are not always pleasant. I am sorry that you and your family have become involved in tonight's debacle. It is most unfair."

"There is tension in the best of families, Lt. Wentworth. Please do not concern yourself."

"But I am concerned," he said softly, insistently. "There is nothing in the world more abhorrent to me that the thought of you having a moments discomfort."

She searched his features intently. He gazed back, unsmilingly, willing her to see all the sincerity of his admiration. The smile that slowly lit her face started in her eyes. They became brighter, the corners crinkling as her full lips curved upward and parted minutely. It was irresistible and he found his own mouth curving in a similar arc. No more words were needed between them for tonight. It was enough for him to inhale the fragrance of wildflowers and know greater pleasure in the remainder of the evening than he had anticipated.

Part 10

he next few days passed in a flurry of activity. Frederick and Anne decided they had had enough of Elliot antics and departed for their home in Lyme. Charles had postponed his departure for Dorset for two days, claiming business needed to be done. Stephen, who could and did think of more pleasant things he wanted to do, was persuaded into joining shooting parties and any activity that precluded the society of women.

Charles could not hold out for very long and Stephen breathed a sigh of relief to see him enter his carriage, next to his very irate wife, and set off down the road to Dorset. Walter winked at Stephen knowingly and showed as much happiness that his procrastinating older brother was finally out of the way.

There was a silent accord between the cousins as they prepared to ride to the Radcliffe house. Stephen could feel his heart pound as the house appeared on the horizon. He could already smell that intoxicating mixture of wildflowers and clay, bringing a smile to his face.

That same smile froze, however, when a familiar mount was spotted tethered to the Radcliffe gate. Samantha was in the garden, obviously on her way inside, when she heard their approach. Walter jumped off to greet his beloved. Stephen was slower, watching the inside windows where he imagined the shadows to be Laura and Samuel talking closely. He nodded absently at Samantha's quiet greeting and wondered if he would be welcome here today after all.

Samantha whispered something to Walter and hurried into the house.

"I think I will forgo today's call, if you don't mind, Walter."

"Not at all. I think your making a wise decision."

Stephen stared at his cousin, "Why? What do you know?"

"Only that Samuel Elliot is already inside. And that Mrs. Radcliffe welcomes him gladly."

Stephen could not help the bitter twisting of his mouth, "Mrs. Radcliffe dreams big dreams of Kellynch Hall."

"She does indeed," Walter agreed. "But I have it on good authority that her daughter does not." Stephen sent his cousin a startled glance. "If a woman wanted to secure a husband, she would not do it by taking the backdoor out to the fields, would she?"

Stephen smiled widely. "Depends on which man she has set her cap on, I daresay." He mounted his horse again. "Needless to say, I am not interested in remaining indoors at the moment." He made a show of sniffing the air. "We shall not see many more days like this, Walter. I will find some outdoor exercise today, I think."

"You could use the last rays of the sun," Walter laughed, "Pasty sailor that you are...get on with you then. I hear there is a scenic path behind this house. Have pity on me while you wander. I must woo my beloved's mother as much as I dare to the daughter."

Stephen laughed and moved on before he was spotted by the occupants of the house. He was confident that he would find Laura despite the longer route required by his horse. He was familiar enough with her habits to know where she would venture. It was better to meet her further down the path, ensuring that she had well and truly escaped the prying eyes and aspirations of her mother.

He rode slowly, ducking under low branches, and all the while keeping an eagle eye trained at the adjoining road. He saw her before she heard him coming. Her back was turned to him but he would know her anywhere. She was quite properly attired today, with hair pulled back securely into her bonnet and while she was still picking at daisies and other flowers on her path, no song issued from her lips. He spurred his horse on, and she turned toward the sound.

He smiled at her happily and dismounted as he saw her return the expression. "Good day to you, madam."

"And you." She greeted warmly. "You are far from home today."

"I am far from my home, yes. Not far from yours, however."

Her lips twisted sardonically as she rolled her eyes. "My mother's suitor has come to call."

Stephen's eyebrows raised in astonishment. "I was under the impression my cousin, Mr. Elliot was inside."

"And so he is."

"Are you saying he is aspiring toward your mother? I was sure he was interested in your affections."

Laura began laughing at his stupidity. "He claims he wants my affections. And yet he woos my mother."

Stephen hung his head with laughter for a moment. Her capacity for wit continued to amaze him with every conversation. There were days when he thought she deserved a more learned man than himself. The pang the very thought of her with someone else was enough to dissuade him from withdrawing his suit. Instead he offered his arm and took the reins of his horse with the other hand. They walked in companionable silence for long moments.

"I have been thinking," Stephen ventured softly. She looked at him earnestly. "Perhaps, you would think me presumptuous but doesn't it stand to reason that a mother's choice would hold sway with a daughter?"

She frowned at him, "Depending on the matter at hand, I believe. Of what are you referring?"

Stephen found his courage flagging and could not look at her. She dropped his arm and walked forward a little before stopping and whirling to face him. "You are suggesting, I suppose, that my mother will be able to force me to marry Samuel Elliot, if that is what she prefers."

"It is not impossible."

She sighed, "Unfortunately, it is not. Such arrangement are common enough in this world we live in. I pity the girl who submits mindlessly to the will of others and chooses a partner for more mundane reasons."

"What would you consider mundane?"

"Position, wealth, consequence..."

"And are these of no value to you?"

"They are. I would be lying if I said they carry absolutely no weight at all. We are living in a society where such structures are sought for."

"But?"

"But alone, they are not enough to tie me to another person. They are lonely companions after the wedding sweetmeats are gone."

She wandered away from him, hands clasped behind her back pensively as she walked. Stephen tied his horse to a sturdy tree branch and hurried after her. She looked at him as if surprised he was still with her.

"What about you, sir? What value do you hold for position, wealth, and consequence?" She turned away. "I suppose you must think of marrying a lady with good connections and a large dowry."

"That is what is expected of me, I suppose. It is not required however."

"That is an odd turn of phrase. My mother's expectations and requirements are one and the same."

"My parents would see me well settled. But they married for reasons other than wealth and consequence. Being fair people, they cannot require any different of me."

"They do seem extraordinarily happy together. Was there mutual regard between them before marriage?"

"A great deal of mutual regard. The term hardly does them justice." Stephen sighed.

Laura smiled and glanced into the distance distractedly. "That is as it should be."

"Is that what you are looking for?"

Laura sighed. "Call me an incurable romantic, but yes. I would like there to be mutual affection ... love...between myself and my partner. I find anything less...a frightening prospect."

Stephen took heart with her reply and stepped as close to her as he dared. "And have you found it? Is there someone for whom you have such a high regard?"

Laura continued to stare out into the distance, avoiding his eyes. "That is a forward question, sir. One that I cannot answer. Besides, I said I was looking for mutual regard. People can love fruitlessly one-way and never have it returned."

Stephen swallowed his fright to stand in front of her. "I hope you do not suffer from this. I would always wish for you a wealth of love in your life. Miss Radcliffe...I..."

"Don't say it!" Laura bolted away from him suddenly and turned her back on him.

"I must!" Stephen implored. "Anyone who looks into my face can see how much I love you."

She was angry as she regarded him. "Don't commit yourself to this, I beg you."

He began to know disappointment. Was she going to refuse him? He couldn't bear it. "Why?"

"Because there is a vast difference between love and winning a prize."

"What does that have to do with us?"

Laura sighed angrily, "How can you say that? When you are standing on this field with me and your cousin is sitting down to tea with my mother. I will not be bartered for like some prized cow!" She whirled away and ran down the hill.

Stephen chased after her, realizing where the difficulty lay. He called out her name, asking her to stop. She ran faster. He was determined that she would know all that was in his heart. He loved her. The thought came with startling clarity. He loved her too much to lose her to misinformation.

She was faster than he gave her credit for, and he was quite out of breath when he caught her in his arms. She struggled and pushed him away, but the angle of the hillside turned it into a tangle of grass and skirts and arms as they both fell to the ground. She raised herself to a sitting position with as much dignity as she could muster, pulling twigs out of her hair and untangling the bonnet strings before they strangled her.

Stephen began to laugh as he brushed himself off. "Madam, you will never be mistaken for a prized cow. You run too fast!" He leaned forward to help pick more twigs out of her hair, but Laura angrily slapped his hands away. The sight of her tears quelled his laughter.

She was looking down on the ribbon of her bonnet as she tried to untie it and one tear rolled down her cheek. Stephen caught it with his fingertip and carried it away from her face.

"Why are you so angry with me?" He whispered.

"I'm not angry," she denied with an impatient swipe at her face.

He caught her hand and held it, though she would have pulled it away. He held it against his heart and succeeded in making her look at him.

"Why are you doing this?" She whispered brokenly. "Is winning over your cousin so important?"

"Samuel can go to hell. This was never about him." Stephen realized he was being too blunt and softened his speech. "Miss Radcliffe...Laura...can you doubt my intentions? Do you think me the kind of man to lead a woman into a liaison for the sake of a competition?"

She looked down in shame, "No, I do not. You are much more honorable than that. I'm sorry."

He lifted her chin and forced her eyes to look on him. "I'm sorry as well...that you should feel that you were being bartered for like a piece of property. That was never my intention or desire."

"What do you want, then?"

"I want you to marry me." Her eyes flew up to his, startled and more than a little unsure of him. "I want you to tell me you love me half as much as I love you."

"You are trying to break my heart, I think." A blush spread on her cheeks, but the uncertainty remained. He would try harder.

"Laura," he whispered, reaching out to touch her face with his fingertips, "please believe me. Having grown up with parents who love each other to distraction, I cannot but want the same for myself. I never expected to find it, however. And then I met you." She was silent, but her eyes never left his face. His fingers gently rubbed the crease between her eyebrows until it disappeared and her frown with it. "From the moment we met, I was enchanted. I've been a fool many times, saying and doing things that have made you doubt me. But, in a way, Samuel made me see sense. If it weren't for him, I don't know how long it would have taken me to realize that I will only ever be truly happy with you."

"You would never have realized it."

His hand cupped her cheek. "Oh yes, I would have. I hope I am not such a fool as to live with self delusion. Not when everyday was becoming unbearable unless there was a hope of seeing you." He brushed away a tear stain with his thumb. "So do I hope in vain? Will you accept my word and my hand?"

"Are you sure?" Laura asked one last time. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"I have never been more certain of anything in my life." Stephen leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "I love you, Laura Radcliffe. And you will break my heart if you refuse me. You are breaking it now."

She sobbed once and looked up at him. His eyes closed briefly when her hand came up to touch his lips. "I don't want to break your heart. What should I do to prevent that?"

"Will you promise to marry me?"

"I will."

He swept her closer at that moment, wanting to fill his arms with her as much as she filled his heart. She was tiny in his arms, and he ached to press her tighter, the warmth of her burning him through to his very skin. He buried his face on her shoulder as her arms sweetly came around his neck. It was enough for them to press closely together and Stephen deeply sighed his relief that she would no longer be parted from him. He could not tell which of them trembled more, but he did not care. She was his. Life was wonderful.

"Tell me you love me."

"I do," she whispered. "God help me, I have for so long. It was agony thinking that you were only paying attention to me because of some stupid competition."

He leaned back to stare into her face. His hands slid from around her waist to cup her beloved face. "It didn't matter where you were in a room, I would find you. And when there were no parties in which to see you, I hurried into town or to your home. I couldn't stay away." He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. "Laura, let me...just one kiss..."

He felt her gasp as he pressed her closer. Her lips were soft and untutored, warmly waiting for him to explore and teach her what it meant to love a man. He forced himself to be gentle and tender, pouring his heart into a single meeting of the lips. It was not enough...it would never be enough...but he had to stop before he lost his last shreds of decency. He would not dishonor her in any way.

Her eyes were still closed and she was limp in his arms as he released her. She inhaled slowly and opened her eyes to look at him in wonder. He smiled at her surprise, grateful that she loved him enough not to be frightened. He put her away from him and saw the brief flash of hurt in her eyes.

"You are too tempting for me, I fear," he soothed. "I have taken enough liberties for one day." She blushed and recollected herself. "I will return with you to ask for your hand."

"NO!" Laura startled him with her vehemence. "Lieutenant.."

"Stephen," he corrected. "My name is Stephen."

She smiled at him gently and said his name, rolling the sound around in her tongue like a caress. "Come tomorrow. I will speak to my mother tonight."

He frowned. "Are you afraid she will refuse her consent?"

Laura sighed. "She gets her mind set on things sometimes. And she was quite vocal about how she did not think you were truly interested." His concern must have been evident for she said, "she will come around when she realizes you are my choice. But she will not be expecting it."

Stephen looked down at his boots reflectively. "I am amazed. I was sure that you and she knew how I felt. I felt transparent."

"You were enigmatic at best. One moment charming and attentive. The next aloof and distant. It was infuriating!" Laura looked down at her hands. "When did you realize you loved me?"

Stephen smiled sadly. "I realized it when you met Samuel the first time. I admitted it to myself for the first time while hurtling after you down this hill!"

"I see." Laura frowned at him, "And you wonder why I had doubts!"

"My parents and Walter did not have any doubts."

She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand, "They have the advantage of knowing you well."

"You do not think you know me well?"

"We have not known each other long," Laura reflected. "Even my sister is shocked at how quickly I fell for you."

Stephen smiled, "And how quickly was that?"

Laura glanced at him archly, "You are always fishing for compliments. Well, I shall not tell you. A woman must keep some things secret."

He slid closer to her until they were shoulder to shoulder sitting on the grass. "Secrets? Even from your husband to be?"

"Especially from you." Laura declared. "Don't think you are cleared from wooing me. You have done a deplorable job of it. I expect nothing less than complete proof that you love me from this moment forward."

Stephen laughed delightedly. He stole another kiss and stood up, reaching down to gently set Laura back on her feet. She brushed herself off and they began back up the hill, Stephen's arm anchored around her waist. As they reached the top, he pulled her close again, "Keep your secrets madam, as you wish. I will be happy to uncover them, one by one, over the next fifty years or so."

Continued In Section III