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Part 38

Posted on Wednesday, 30 December 1998

ould you care to join me with a drink, Ian?"

The fair-haired gentleman looked up, shaken from his thoughts. Smiling, he nodded. "A little courage would be of use tonight, I think, Ross. Thank you"

As Ross poured out a small amount of aged whiskey into an elegant crystal glass, he eyed his boyhood friend with curiosity. "Truly? A ball has you so discomfited? Is there something I should know? Barbarians ready to trample at the gate? Or should I say sheep?"

Grinning, Ian leaned against the edge of Ross' large, carved desk. "Nothing so tragic, I assure you. In fact, I've been looking forward to this fete all week."

Ross handed Ian the glass and watched him carefully. "Is that why you did not hear ten words in a hundred when Adam was telling you about the spring planting the other evening? Out with it, man. I shall have no secrets in my home tonight."

Looking away, Ian was silent for a moment as he put his drink on the desk. He was not always a man of precise words. It was difficult at times to speak his mind. He wanted to say it properly. Only the truth would suit concerning a matter of this nature.

"I am falling in love with your cousin, Ross," he finally said, letting out a deep breath. "Elise---she enchants me as no woman ever has before. She stirs my soul and lightens my heart. And makes me laugh. There. You have it all now. I am no longer a fraud."

"Then why do you wear such a long face?" Ross asked, not surprised in the least. He had been observing Elise with his friend for the last several weeks. The evidence was plain as a pikestaff to everyone but Elise. It struck him as absurdly ironic because she was normally so acute in other matters. Then again love affected people in very strange ways that few could predict its effects accurately.

Ross had to admit he was secretly pleased that Elise had attracted the attention of a man truly worthy of her intelligence, beauty, and humor. He had known Ian since he was a boy and their temperaments were very similar. To see them married would be a blessing to his life.

"Confound it, Ross, I fear she may reject me," Ian confessed, reaching for the glass to take a sip. "She has only been here for a month. Perhaps she will think me mad for declaring myself so soon. Then again, she may have no feelings for me whatsoever. Her father is quite wealthy. She could wiggle her little finger and have ten finer men at her feet. I'm little more than a glorified farmer, Ross. What do I have to offer her?"

Now Ross could see why Ian was so out of sorts. But he also knew that his cousin was wiser than that.

"I do not think you have to worry on that score. Money and position have never been important to Elise. If that were so, she would be in London right now. Not here in the wilds of Scotland. I think you know her well enough to know that fripperies have never turned her head. Of course, I am much too polite to ask her about such things. A woman's heart is as unsolvable as the Sphinx, but I think she would happily accept your suit, my friend."

Surprise washed over Ian's face. "Truly? You've done me a great service, Ross. Soon enough I must summon my courage and confess my heart. May I be congratulating you soon enough with Miss Katrina? She is a lovely young woman. I wish you every joy."

Ross' grin faded somewhat but his good humor was intact. "Mayhap soon. We are biding our time, for we have it in abundance. I love her with all my heart, Ian. She has brought great joy into my life."

Nursing his drink, Ross would not lie and say the last month had been an easy one. There had been a few times when his frustration was great. Katrina's recovery was slow and difficult. She often sought to be alone to sort out her feelings, to walk about the rolling hills. To let her go was something Ross had found almost impossible. He wanted to crush her into his arms until she believed that everything was going to be all right. But she required time and something greater than Ross' love to recover. She needed his trust and the space to work it out for herself.

There was no doubt she fit into life at Castle McGrath like a hand to a glove. The staff had easily detected her struggle to heal and had gone out of their way to make her feel at home. As a result, she sang their praises to Lady McGrath and took time to get to know them, to ask them about the history of their families. Never had they seen a young lady with more quiet grace or compassion. Even dour Horton had remarked to the housekeeper, Mrs. McTeague, on how "Miss Katrina be a light in our halls" the other day. It took quite a lot to win Horton's approval.

It was also patently clear that his tenants thought her charming. They always welcomed her visits. She treated them with kindness and respect, two things that were often difficult to come by. She seemed to have little trouble in sitting with them, lifting a child onto her lap as they chatted, not caring if she mussed her gown or a family dog ruined her hat.

But yet Katrina somehow hovered somewhere between her old self and the new one taking her place. Ross sensed that she did not seem to know where she belonged. Or which Katrina she could bear living with most. At times he found her sitting at the windowseat, staring off into the distance, a fathomless look in her dark eyes. How he wished he might provide her with the answers she sought.

Her experiences had matured her, that was to be expected. She was not the same woman he had fallen in love with. But he found that amid the healing was emerging a more confident, more centered Katrina who more readily reached out to those around her. To see her holding Katie Shaw's little girl Megan on her lap made his heart literally turn over in his chest.

Ross heard noise in the Great Hall and realized that the guests were arriving. His mother would be seeking his support in greeting their many guests. Ian grinned and settled his empty glass on the desk. "To the battle," he muttered with a wicked laugh and Ross joined him in it.

Surveying the Great Hall, Ross could not help but feel proud. The staff had done a wonderful job in preparing it, from the fresh flowers to the candles. The old place looked as fine as it might have in the 1700s, the floor polished to a high sheen and the family coat of arms hanging high above them.

"Why, Ross, what a pleasure to see you," a bright, honeyed voice declared near him.

Stopping short, Ross knew that voice and dreaded it. "How do you do, Miss Dunworth?" he asked politely, bowing over her hand. "And I do hope Lady Dunworth has accompanied you. Her absence would be most regrettable."

She was in fine looks tonight, he noticed. No doubt her gown was all the rage in London. But to his own eye, the low neckline seemed to reveal slightly too much. He found it rather jarring after having been away from social events for so long. He knew his mother would not care for it at all. And neither did he.

"Our mamas are busy chattering away already," Serena informed him proudly, green eyes flashing. "Isn't it charming how they always gravitate toward each other? How wonderful that our families are on such intimate terms with one another."

"Charming? Oh, yes, indeed," he agreed absently with a great desire to exit the room. Since he had removed to Scotland, Serena had made it patently clear that she was his for the asking. He was gratified to see Lord Hacking at his elbow to divert the conversation.

"Ross, m'boy, glad to see ye made it back to us," the elderly peer shouted, pince nez in hand. "Heard ye quite the demned Corps at last. Glad to hear it. Those rotters don't deserve ye. We need ye back home, building up your land!"

Ross nearly burst out laughing as he watched Serena's look of poorly hidden distaste out of the corner of her eye. She barely tolerated Lord Hacking's rather loud commentary. He was not stylish enough for her taste, his fashion sense lagging some ten years behind. But the man had always been a helpful friend to Ross' family over the years and he would not soon forget it.

"You're absolutely right," Ross avowed, glad to see Serena wander over to a group of ladies to gossip. "How have you been, Lord Hacking? Is your prize cow still suffering from milk fever?"

"Aye, she's a ways bad off," the man answered, nodding several times. "Done cut up my peace something awful. Vet'nary says she's like to go at any time. Feed her my best mince pies and it don't do any demned good!"

Ross laughed, clapping the man on the back heartily. "I think you ought to call in Dr. Hardy. They speak of him as if he is blessed by the gods, sir. Perhaps he can cure your Daisy."

Lord Hacking glance over to the staircase, his attention diverted by a member of the fairer sex. While he was approaching his 70s, Lord Hacking always had an admiring eye for women. He had buried two wives already.

"I say, Ross, that's a lovely girl there. Friend of your cousin's? Maybe you can get her to place me on 'er dance card, lad! Hope my old legs hold up!"

Surprised, Ross glanced up and for a brief moment, did not recognize to whom Lord Hacking was referring to. But when his eyes encountered Elise beside her, he again took in the sight of her companion and he realized who it was.

"Katrina," he breathed. "Sweet Heaven!"

He had only seen her dressed in formal attire twice in their acquaintance. Once at his aunt's home and then at the Chevington party. The circumstance of both events had been so different. But neither occasion had prepared him for this. Simply put, she shone like a radiant star.

Tonight she was wearing an elegantly cut gown the color of the softest heather, her reddish-brown hair piled elegantly on her small head. And intertwined in her hair were the tiny white rosebuds he had sent up for her earlier. A simple, lovely pearl and amethyst necklace graced her neck. To Ross, she had never looked lovelier. It shone in her face and in her warm demeanor.

"Pardon me, Hacking, but I must attend to my cousin and Miss Wentworth," he murmured, moving away from the man. He did not want anyone else to address her before she knew how beautiful he thought her to be tonight.

How had he ever thought her less than stunningly lovely, he thought as he approached her. She was his star, his fairy. And tonight she shone like a fine gem among gray, rough stones. To have everyone see it as he did brought a rush of protectiveness rolling through his veins.

She was moving gracefully down the staircase; two young men dressed in McNelley tartans watching her with avid stares. Katrina was clearly oblivious to their obvious admiration. It was so like her. Then she turned and saw Ross.

Her fine blue eyes sparkled and brightened as they met his. Ross' heart gave a great jolt of happiness to see it. So often in the past weeks her eyes had been full of darkness, of memory. Now they were full of light and excitement. The difference tonight was that she seemed more at ease. Nothing like the evening in London, when her fears had rested so close to the surface.

"Dear Ross," she murmured softly, taking in the sight of him. Had a man the right to look so ruggedly handsome? The McGrath plaid was thrown over his shoulder, matching his kilt. "How very dashing, too. I am in awe of you now. I fear I shall grow weak on my feet, Major."

He took her gloved hand and lifted it to kiss her soft wrist. "It is you who are charming the entire room as you move. Titania among mere mortals, my fairy. You must let me take you into the ballroom. I shall allow you no other escort."

She flushed a little at his words, but he knew she was pleased. He offered her his arm and she took it gratefully. When she had seen Serena enter and approach him, her heart had sunk. Serena was as beautiful as Lady Halliford, if not more so because of her youth and charm. It would be so easy for Ross to marry her and fulfill the county's expectations.

"I do hope you've not let anyone replace me on your dance card," he remarked playfully. "For I fear I can be most fearsome when it comes to claiming what is mine. Especially after our practice the other day."

Katrina looked up at him then, her eyes searching his. He was so tall and vital tonight, every inch the chieftain of his clan. She knew in her heart that Ross loved her. But the last month had surely been a trial for him. Did he still want her to be his? Or had he grown weary of waiting for her?

Unfortunately, more guests were pouring into the Great Hall and he knew he must join his mother in greeting them. He also wanted to introduce them to Katrina.

"Come along, Katrina," Elise was saying gaily, reading her cousin's thoughts. "There are a number of people you have yet to meet. So let us do our duty. Hopefully, it shall not last long."

Chapter 39

Posted on Friday, 8 January 1999

"I'd watch my step…if'n I were you, Captain Wentworth."

Frederick, who had just finished hanging his great coat on a peg in the hallway, glanced down at Martha with a mixture of concern and amusement. His housekeeper's mien was rather foreboding just now, one hand on her hip and the other hoisting a broom. In light of this, he decided to choose his reply with care.

"Martha, are you trying to kindly tell me that you have just swept the floor or that my wife has been having---shall we say---a trying day?"

"Both, sir," the older woman remarked sagely. "Miss Bethany…well, you know she's kept her up these last three nights. Mrs. is fit to drop. And I did just show this floor the broom."

Frederick appreciated the advice. "Thank you, Martha. As you can see, my boots have been liberally scraped outside before I entered. And as for my wife, I shall do my best to be the most considerate of husbands."

"Thank ye, sir," Martha gratefully replied, wiping her hands on her apron as she headed in the direction of the kitchen. "Just tryin' to help."

Frederick knew very well that his housekeeper was better than a weather vane in predicting the climate of his home. She knew, more and more, when to speak and when to remain silent. He was always grateful for any warning she might give him.

He had spent most of the day with Harville, inspecting the work he was doing in his newly fitted shop. The orders for small craft were pouring in and he had been forced to hire on more men. Now there was talk of larger crafts, even ships. The prospect, while a daunting one, filled Harville with hope and enthusiasm. They had also been discussing the future of the business and Frederick's role in it.

"Do say you will come both for dinner next week," his friend had said as he took his leave. "Margaret is anxious to see little Bethany and have a talk with Anne. This blustery weather has kept her indoors and she is rather out of sorts."

Frederick had accepted the invitation gladly. He wanted Anne to have an evening with their friends, a time to talk and to laugh. She had hardly slept at all in the last week as Bethany had suffered from the croup. All babies, Anne claimed, suffered through it at some point. Thankfully, his little girl was now recovering nicely. Tertius had eased his fears rapidly.

As he mounted the stairs, Frederick thought of the letter in his pocket. News from London was good and bad. The Navy did not want him for another two months. But when he did return, they were anxious that he sail for Australia to see first hand what conditions British convicts were living in. The mere thought of sailing away from Anne and Bethany made him want to put his head under a pillow and scream like a petulant child.

He had not had time to mention it to Anne yet. He had little notion of how she might respond. His time in the Navy had given him what little rank and status he could claim. Not to mention his fortune. To become one of the retired ranks of sailor that her father so despised at times haunted him. Would she wish him to continue on and gain a better position, to attain greater influence?

His life in Lyme was rapidly becoming more home to him than any ship he had ever sailed on. Such a discovery had been hard won. He had never pictured himself staying on dry land for long periods of time. But now he was not only a husband but a father as well. He found himself looking forward to each new day as Bethany made some new discovery or took on a new personality trait. Now he understood why Harville had often seemed so deeply homesick for Margaret and the children on a voyage.

Frederick found himself thinking about Bethany in the afternoons when he was in Lyme or handling business with Crispin or Carter. While he had always been eager to head home to see his wife, now his interests there were doubled.

Sophy, who had come for a brief visit a few weeks ago, had given him a thorough teasing. "And who was it that once swore he would never tie himself to a wife? He is now a proud Papa and it is amazing indeed!"

Frederick was not ashamed to admit that he was now utterly captivated by his child, not to mention his wife. His life had utterly changed for the better.

Frederick was still a comparatively young man with a good fortune. He did not have to go back to sea unless he chose to. The Navy, while it had been his life at one time, was no longer his reason for living. Anne and Bethany were his life now. And he did not want to leave them behind for Australia and her mysteries. Leaving her for London had been difficult enough to bear.

Mounting the stairs, Frederick heard the sound of Agatha's unmistakable shuffling gait. She was with the baby as often as she could be, having a soft spot in her usually stoic nature for infants. He hoped he would find Anne on her own for a change. He sensed she needed some time alone as a wife and not a mother.

"Good day to ye, Cap'n," Agatha greeted him. "Yer daughter's sleepin' like a lamb. And the Mrs., she be in the bedroom. I'd step careful like, sir. Had a tough going, t'day."

With only a nod, Frederick thanked her and made his way down the hallway. But he could not help puzzling over her warning. He wondered exactly what it was Martha and Agatha were trying to tell him in so few words. Either Bethany had given her Mama a rather trying day or Anne was trying to hide her fatigue.

Frederick tapped on the bedroom door cautiously. "Anne?"

There was the faint sound of sniffling before a reply came. "Frederick?"

"May I come in?"

"No!" a half-hearted, watery reply met his ears.

Frederick smiled to himself in response, leaning against the doorframe. Harville had just been asking him today if Anne had been suffering from any lack of spirits lately.

"She will if she hasn't," Harville had told him. "Always comes sooner or later. After a woman's had a child, she may go into some rather peculiar moods, Frederick. I'm only warning you as a friend since Margaret has suffered from them. She'll feel incredibly tired, fat, and unattractive. And likely cry."

"Whatever for?" Frederick had asked, incredulous. "Anne is not one given to tears. She is very much in control of her feelings. And she is enjoying her new role as a mother. And isn't in the least taking on weight."

"I have no doubt she is all those things," Harville had replied, lighting his pipe. "Anne has more sense than most women I have ever had the pleasure to meet. And it is admirable. But in some ways, women share common mysteries. This, I fear, is one of them! I want you to learn from my mistakes."

"What do I do?" Frederick had asked, concerned that he not say or do something to make matters worse. The few times he had seen Anne in tears he had felt incredibly useless. But those times had rarely come, thankfully.

"First rule of thumb is to simply listen to her," Harville sagely replied. "Don't contradict or tell her she's being daft. Or attempt to solve her problems. Hold her in your arms. Try to make her laugh. And wait for it to pass. That's my best advice."

"Will it, then?" Frederick echoed, bewildered. "Will it pass?"

"Aye, if you play your cards right," Harville predicted with a hint of laughter in his voice. "Just don't be utterly stunned when your wife starts crying for no discernible reason!"

As he had ridden home, Frederick had marveled at the intricacies of marriage. He could only be grateful to his Maker that he had such an intimate friend as Harville, who spoke plainly whenever possible. As the father of several children and a devoted husband, he knew of what he spoke. Frederick had often consulted him on such personal matters and found his advice to be of great assistance.

Now it appeared he had spoken none too soon!

"Would you rather be alone, Anne?" he asked gently, knowing that she likely did not. But he wanted her to have the freedom to choose as she liked. There were plenty of tasks he could be completing in the barn. He would do as she wished.

All he heard was the muffled sound of tears in the pillow. She was clearly crying her eyes out. Frederick's heart chided him. The time for action had come, Frederick concluded as he opened the door carefully, unsure of what he might find.

Anne was indeed weeping into the pillow, curled up like a young girl on their bed. Her hair was tumbled and her gown looked as if it had seen better days. To see her like this was rather disconcerting, Frederick discovered. Anne was always so sensible, usually happy in her tasks. What had happened?

Frederick quietly removed his coat and folded it over the chair. Crossing the room, he sat on the edge of the bed nearest his wife and gently rested one hand on her heaving shoulders. Without saying a word, he drew soft, comforting circles there. Such small shoulders, he marveled. But quite capable of carrying the weight of the world upon them if necessary.

Gradually, her tears began to abate and with some struggle, she rose from the pillow and turned to face him. Frederick, after leaving a light kiss on her forehead, gave her his handkerchief and she began to wipe her flushed, blotchy face.

"I am awful, Frederick," she finally managed to choke out as she tried to repair her hair. "I am…heartily ashamed of myself today."

As she finished her task, Frederick asked softly, "Has it been a terribly hideous day, my baggage? Tell me about it now."

Carefully, he put his arm about her and drew her against him, so that her head rested lightly on his shoulder. She was clearly exhausted and needed some cheering up. That he could easily do.

At first, Anne did not speak. She was trying to collect her thoughts. She had not been expecting her husband to find her crying like an utter widgeon. She had hoped to have risen from her bed, be freshly groomed, and attired in a clean gown when he arrived.

But with Frederick's gentle urging, she began to tell him. "Bethany has been crying…nearly all day," she told him haltingly. "And she did not…want to eat anything I fed her. She…she fussed terribly. I…I am a terrible mother, Frederick. I did not know what to do! Agatha walked in and Bethany became an angel! What kind of mother must I be?"

Frederick nodded, resting his head on top of her hair. She was worn out physically and emotionally. She had never expected to become a mother and now she was one. She was learning skills she had never been taught. While she had often looked after her nieces and nephews, infants were as foreign to her as the Azores.

"To add to all that…I am tired…and I missed you terribly today," she confessed weakly. And she had.

Frederick smiled at this admission. He knew it was difficult for her to say such things. "I missed you as well, little one. I am sorry you had such a terrible day. But you are not a poor mother, Anne. Do not ever believe that for a moment."

She sniffled into his shoulder, resembling a small bird. She was not accustomed to being so utterly without knowledge. To admit her shortcomings was not easily done. "But I…I did not know what to do! And Agatha did…"

"Agatha is nearly 70," Frederick reminded her. "And has raised a number of children. It comes easily to her now. You are learning the ropes, as we used to say. And all infants grow fussy, I am told. I know I could not manage as you have. You're doing wonderfully well."

This did not explain why she was now a small watering pot. "Then why..why do I want to cry?"

Frederick wondered the same thing, but he knew that now was not the time to dissect the issue like a scientific treatise. While his knowledge of women was limited, his marriage had begun to teach him something of the fairer sex. He knew that Anne did not require a lecture on parenting skills just now. She needed her husband to love her and shower her with affection.

"I have a thought," Frederick said a few moments later. "I'll have Martha draw you a hot bath while I change clothes. Agatha can look after Bethany tonight. I know she will be happy to stay. And I can enjoy the radiant beauty of my wife over a delicious meal."

In an instant, Frederick knew he had said the magic words. For the first time since he had entered the room, a ghost of a smile could be seen on Anne's face. "You will carry such tall tales, Frederick," she murmured as he easily lifted her onto the floor. "You must think me horribly silly."

"Never that," Frederick assured her. "Only absurdly adorable…even when your nose is red," he added before he kissed it lightly.

"This reminds me of the Pallisade," Anne murmured softly as she stood at the window, her dark eyes looking up into Frederick's. "Except for the rocking of the ship, I can almost imagine we're at sea."

Frederick knew she was thinking of their occasional romantic suppers on the ship, when he was off duty. She would spend half the day preparing a special meal for him. Then she would arrange dried flowers about the room, lighting candles as she did so. Those moments shone like fine diamonds in his memory of their quiet warmth and beauty.

Among a ship full of men, Anne was his haven, his light. On such nights, they often found themselves blowing out the candles before they had even gotten through the second course!

Agatha and Margaret had rapidly complied with his wishes, bringing out Anne's favorite China and setting out a few candles. They had set the table up in the Library, the coziest room in the house.

With her dark hair arranged prettily, wearing one of her Kellynch gowns, Anne hardly resembled a new mother. Looking at him as she was, Anne seemed more like the sweet siren he had married not so long ago. Only there was now an added contentment, a greater confidence that became her more than jewels. It warmed his soul to see it.

"Do you miss being at sea?" he asked lightly, thinking of the letter he had in his pocket. He knew that tonight was not the proper time to discuss it.

"At times I do," Anne admitted, thinking how handsome he looked tonight. He was wearing his favorite coat, the one she had given him for Christmas last year. His dark hair was combed back, the one stubborn curl falling onto his forehead. "It is difficult to explain my feelings, Frederick. You will think I am truly demented."

Lovingly, Frederick put his arms about her waist and regarded her intently. She was a soft, adorable armful. Her feelings meant everything to him tonight. They had had little opportunity to be alone for some weeks. "Try me, my baggage," he urged quietly, wanting to know her answer. "I should like to know what is on your mind."

The uncertain look faded from her brow as she looked out the window, loving how the moon spilled liquid silver out onto the sea. It was this she often missed now that they were on land. The glow of it was unlike any other sight.

"When we were at sea, I felt as if…we were working….as a team of sorts. Of course you were always in charge of the men and the daily running of the ship. But at the end of the day, we shared so much together. I helped you with some of your duties, and you taught me about the workings of the ship and the Royal Navy."

Frederick watched her, entranced at the way the moon shone on her soft cheek. "You were my anchor, little one. Twas the best voyage I ever experienced in my career, knowing you were there beside me, guiding me. Knowing you were in my cabin at the end of the day. I felt my blessing deeply indeed."

While softened by his words, Anne quirked a knowing brow. "Even better than your voyages with Harville and Benwick and the hijinks you got into with them, Captain?"

Chuckling, Frederick pulled her closer to him. "Saucy wench! Yes, even better than that. Those journeys certainly were exciting and had their fair share of adventure attached--not to mention good fortune, but the day we boarded the Pallisade—I knew my life as a sailor would never be the same again. Because I knew then that I would have someone to share it all with. And that has made all the difference, Anne."

Anne felt reassured, almost buoyed by his sincerity. He did love her and Bethany so. That is why what she had been thinking about lately made it all the more difficult.

"There is more to this. Now that we are on land, I suppose I feel as if we are waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop," she softly confessed, her hands resting on his lapels. "The Navy is surely going to call you back shortly. And then we shall see even less of each other. You shall be at sea, and Bethany and I shall be here in Lyme."

She rested her cheek on his chest and he pulled her up against him, nestling her there. "I did not wish to admit it to you or to myself, but I suppose that is one of the reasons…I was crying, Frederick. I married you with the full knowledge that you were a sailor at heart. It is what makes you happiest. But…but it is difficult…to know I can no longer join you in your work. That Bethany and I will be left…behind."

Frederick suddenly realized how heavily this had weighed on Anne's heart in the last month. He had not spoken of it often because the Navy had not summoned him to London yet. He had not wanted to think about it. But Anne evidently had. He could see that now. The letter in his breast pocket burned like a wound against his heart.

"Frederick?" Anne asked, looking up suddenly as if she knew. Her instinct was uncanny. "Is something wrong? Have you received word from the Navy?"

Frederick did not even attempt to hide it from her. She was too wise to fool. "You are as sharp as ever, wife. I received word from the Royal Navy today, and they have given me some options to consider."

"Why did you not tell me?" she asked, drawing back from him slightly, concerned. "Is it bad news, Frederick?"

"Not at all," he assured her, taking her left hand in his, rubbing his thumb against its softness. "But I did not want to discuss it until the time was right. I wanted this evening to be ours. Not the Navy's."

Anne appreciated his thoughtfulness and squeezed his hand comfortingly. "You are forever spoiling me, Captain. But I..I am almost relieved it has come. Let us sit down and discuss it now while we have the time to do so and Bethany is sleeping."

Frederick drew her over to his large, roomy armchair, and as she sat on his lap in the candlelight, he told her about the Navy's wish for him to journey to Australia. She did not say a word as he told her of it, even showing her the letter.

"It is a great honor indeed," Anne murmured, considering everything he had just said. "They have always thought highly of your talent and your experience. This is understandably the next step in your recent history with them. It makes…perfect sense, Frederick. What are your thoughts?"

Frederick watched her closely, hoping to detect what her feelings were. But in the dim light, it was difficult to tell. Did she wish him to go? Or would she welcome his wish to stay in Lyme and build a different life for them?

She saw the indecision in his face easily and lifted her hand to soothe the furrow between his dark eyes. The action calmed and warmed him. "Frederick, speak honestly with me. We must be completely open in this."

"Anne, there is a possibility I have been considering," he began. "Harville's ship-building enterprise is growing rapidly. He paid us back weeks ago for our trouble. And he has asked me to join him in the enterprise. If I did so, I could remain in Lyme with you and Bethany. And not sail for Australia."

Anne's face immediately lit up as if he had struck a match. "Frederick! Truly? You…you would not mind giving up your position? I know how you love the sea. I would never ask you to give that up. I could not do it."

"You would not wish me to remain in the Navy? To gain a promotion or to gain prestige in the ranks?" he asked, wanting to be certain of her feelings. Some odd, ghostly nagging sense of her being the daughter of Sir Walter Elliot dug at him.

But his wife missed nothing. She could easily see that in his eyes and sought to stamp it out. "You know that means nothing to me, as much as I am proud of you," Anne told him fervently. "To have you here with me…that is more than I could have dared dream or hope! Oh Frederick, are you sure you do not mind?"

His doubts soundly defeated, laughing freely, Frederick told her, "You are my life now, my baggage. You and Bethany. Staying here in Lyme is my heart's greatest wish. I feared you might not wish me to leave the Navy."

Anne felt as if her heart were singing. She had worried, in her private moments, for the last two months. And now they had their answer. Frederick would be home…home as she had dreamed he might be. It was an answer to a fervent prayer.

"I thought you would be happy to have me out of the house," he teased lightly, despite the fact he was replete with relief. "Martha and Agatha shall be quite downcast. And the floor shall have to be swept even more frequently due to my muddy boots."

Anne pushed herself up and onto her husband's wide chest and smiled with an awareness of how blessed she was to be where she was at that moment. "I shall do it myself, dearest Captain, if it means keeping you home!"

Dazzled by her boldness and her sweet warmth, Frederick gathered her up and kissed his wife soundly, sweetly, with an almost painful passion. His heart was seized up, spasmed by the emotion of utter joy. It was some time before he lifted his head to regard her with dark, loving eyes that told her of his intentions. His breath mingled with hers and her heart quickened.

It was a look she thrilled at, and the intensity of it sent a flickering flame through her small form. The glow inside spilled over and a sweet, hypnotic smile curved her soft lips. Frederick was captivated, totally mesmerized by her.

"The candles, Captain…we must remember not to forget the candles…" she sighed wickedly before he kissed her again.

Chapter 40

Posted on Wednesday, 20 January 1999

Having met innumerable strangers and friends over the last hour, Katrina now found herself surrounded by a number of young ladies who were approaching their comeouts. They all wanted to know the latest news in London and more importantly, about the fashions. Katrina found the situation almost laughably ironic.

At the same time, it was distracting her from watching the scene unfolding before her. Serena had insisted that Ross dance the first dance with her. The young woman seemed to have little scruple in trampling over the plans of others. And with Lady Dunworth standing beside her daughter, there had been little Ross could do to refuse her. Especially with his own mother standing nearby.

"Are the long sleeves yet in fashion, miss?" Maureen Hearn asked, her youthful face aglow. "I hear that they are and yet Mama refuses to consider them. She thinks they are not all the crack, but I insist that they are. My maid said so and she's from London. So she ought to know!"

"And I hear tell that they may be bringing waists back into fashion," Catherine Manwarring tittered. "La, I shall have to give up chocolates forever!"

Katrina had hardly paid any attention to the fashion world when she was in the capitol. Her eyes had been seeking other features. Other faces. How very silly that she should be sought out for fashion advice! Frederick would have been highly amused at the rapt attention she was receiving.

"I am a lamentably poor fashion expert," she kindly informed her. "I feel Miss Stenning is a much better person to consult. And her sense of style is much better than mine, I assure you."

A rather quiet young woman, Mabel McTeague, edged over to her side whilst the exuberant debutantes went in search of Elise. "Miss Wentworth, I am told you are related to Edgar Wentworth, the great scholar. I…I have greatly enjoyed reading his books. My brother speaks highly of him. Did you assist your uncle in any way?"

Grateful to have found one sensible young lady amid the lot, Katrina took her aside and they began to talk of her work with Uncle Edgar. The rather plain young woman seemed to glow as she shared her thoughts on Rome and the ancient world. She looked quite pretty as she spoke freely.

"My uncle is currently working on some fragments found in some Roman ruins," Katrina told her. "I am certain his findings shall be published shortly. You will enjoy reading of his discoveries, I think."

"How delightful!" Mabel exclaimed, growing animated. "I shall enjoy reading about it. You shall have to tell me how he came up with his theory regarding Nero's declining rule. I would find it much more enjoyable than talking about the London season, I confess. Although I fear the other girls would disagree!"

"You are a girl after my own heart, Mabel," Katrina stated as they both laughed.

Across the room, Ian and Elise were enjoying their first dance. Ian was normally a patient man, but tonight he found it quite difficult to wait his turn to partner her. He would much rather be sitting with her cozily in the Library where they often talked. His feelings were also battling with his tongue.

Elise noticed that Katrina was chatting with Mabel McTeague. It was good she had found a new friend, considering that Serena had literally dragged Ross onto the ballroom floor. She could hardly stomach such behavior. And now Ian seemed to be woolgathering.

"Ian, your mind appears to be elsewhere tonight," Elise quietly reminded him as they passed each other in the steps of the dance. "Perhaps you were admiring Catherine McBride. She has grown into a lovely young woman, I think."

Ian nearly tripped at hearing her words. He had been thinking that Elise far outshone any of the women present that evening. It was not necessarily her beauty, of which she had in abundance. It was the good-natured sincerity in her, the warmth and good humor that seemed to surround her.

"I was thinking of you, if you would care to know the truth," he confessed sincerely, leading her round the circle. "You look utterly breathtaking tonight, my dear friend. I was merely wishing you did not have to repair to Lyme in the future. Scotland will be a lonely land without you. As will---I.""

Elise puzzled over his words, but her face did not indicate it. Was he truly regretful? She did not know how to safely answer. Did he truly think she looked lovely tonight? Or was he merely flattering her? Would he miss her when she departed?

"May I say you are among the most dashing of clansmen this night, sir," she replied teasingly, her eyes bright. "It is not often I get to see my kinsmen in the plaid on such formal circumstances. You do your tartan credit, sir."

He smiled at her raillery as they passed down the rows of dancers. It was much easier to talk to her like this when she was so beguiling. "I do not wonder that you rarely see such attire in London. I imagine it would be frowned upon by the Sasenachs!"

"They are only jealous because they have nothing so fine as our brave, brawny men," Elise answered, feeling the warmth of his hand on hers. He was such a vital man, a man who knew outdoor labor but had a mind equal to any Oxford don. But he would never see her as a potential wife, only a friend.

"I do envy the South one thing," Ian remarked softly, squeezing her hand lightly as she looked up into his eyes. "She has you, and for that I shall always be envious."

The breath caught in Elise's throat as she struggled to answer him, but she was too surprised to speak. Too utterly thrilled.

As the dance came to an end, and before Elise could reply, a handsome, dark-haired man approached Ian. The two shook hands and Elise watched the warm exchange with interest.

"I am amazed to see you here, McTeague," Ian exclaimed happily. "At last report, I heard you were in Rome with your uncle digging up old bones! Are you home for a time? You must come and see the improvements we've been making at the estate."

"Yes, I'm here for as long as you all will endure me," the man replied jovially, his eyes resting on Elise kindly. "You must be Ross' cousin, Miss Stenning. It is a pleasure to meet you. Even if this old farmer hasn't the common courtesy to introduce us properly!"

Belatedly, Ian did the honors as Elise laughed. "Ryan, Earl of Teague, this is indeed Elise Stenning. She is staying here at Castle McGrath for a time with her friend, Miss Wentworth. It has been a pure delight to have her among us again. I do not think you had the honor of meeting her during her last stay."

"Wentworth, did you say?" the Earl repeated with surprise, his eyes suddenly going still warmer. "I just left Edgar Wentworth very happy in Rome. My uncle remained with him. It cannot be Edgar's niece, Katrina, can it?"

Smiling, Elise nodded. "It is indeed. She is staying with us while he is on his travels, which have taken much longer than he planned, I gather. She received a letter from him just yesterday saying as much."

The Earl seemed to be thinking of the past as he remembered. "Aye, Edgar has stumbled upon yet more discoveries. He is like a child in a toyshop! And Katrina…she was a sweet, very intelligent young woman when I met her two years ago. Her uncle is indeed brilliant. I must speak to her while she is here. I have often wished to write to her."

"She is speaking to your sister, I believe," Ian remarked, his eyes cast in their direction. "I think Mabel has made a new friend!"

"That is very like her," the Earl murmured. "Forgive me if I take my leave, Miss Stenning. I cannot let the opportunity pass to renew the acquaintance. Do say you will save a dance for me. One that Ian may spare!"

Nodding, Elise chuckled. "I think he would be happy to dispose of me, sir, for one dance. "

As the Earl headed across the room, Elise turned to Ian, "He seems quite enchanted with Katrina," she softy said. "I cannot wait to ask her about it. What do you know of the earl?"

"He is a member of the Royal Geographical Society," Ian told her, privately elated that she did not appear to be interested in the earl for herself. "He and his uncle have always traveled the world in search of some new antiquity. He's quite brilliant. And a good soldier as well. He served with my cousin Matthew in the Horse Guards. He only inherited the title six months ago."

He paused and tucked her hand into his arm. "And I do not think I have any wish to "dispose" of you any time soon, Miss Stenning. Suppose we leave this heat and crush of bodies, and I shall tell you how much?"

Blushing rosily, Elise gladly accepted Ian's suggestion, but her thoughts were not far from her cousin.

"Ross had best look sharp," Elise said to herself as Ian led her away from the dance floor. "Else he will find himself leg-shackled to Serena Dunworth and Katrina in another man's arms!"

Ross himself was trying to extricate himself from a rather trying situation. He was sitting with Miss Dunworth and her mother, the countess, and could not politely find a way in which to exit. Such moments tried a bachelor's soul!

"Serena is very fond of riding over our moors," the countess was saying. "I was hoping you might show her round McGrath next week, Ross. You are the only one who can adequately show my dear girl the beauties of your estate."

Ross heartily disliked the way the countess was trying to manipulate him. It had been quite some time since he had been forced to endure such maneuvering. But Serena at least had the grace to blush at her mother's attempts to join them.

"Mama, you must not speak so to Ross. If he wishes to show me about, he will invite me to do so at his own behalf. We must not presume so!"

Nearby he saw Katrina talking to Mabel McTeague, who was soon to be making her debut in London. A shy girl, to be sure. But she seemed to be talking animatedly to Katrina, who was smiling indulgently at her new friend.

It did not surprise Ross in the least the Katrina had befriended one of the quietest, but most intelligent young ladies in the room. She was so sensitive to the feelings of others. And Mabel was likely feeling a bit nervous at such a grand occasion. He could easily hear their conversation.

"Katrina?"

A low, masculine voice echoed her name and Katrina looked up from Mabel, the smile dying from her lips. It was replaced with something much different.

"Ryan!"

Ross watched in surprise as the new Earl of Teague came forward holding out his hands to Katrina. A smile of radiant joy blazed from her young face as she clasped his hands in hers. It was clear that she knew him. And liked him very much.

"I could hardly believe it when Ian pointed you out," the Earl said fondly, glancing at his sister, who looked extremely pleased. "And already befriending my sister Mabel! How good it is to see you again, my dear!"

Nodding, Katrina drank in the sight of him. He had aged a little, but the war had aged every man. He still was as handsome and kind as ever. He had spent a month working with her uncle, and they had become friends in that time. He had been one of the few younger gentlemen interested in antiquities that had come calling.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Ryan," Katrina said, now seeing the resemblance between he and Mabel. "Have you been traveling again? I must know everything you have been doing! Everything!"

"I have just visited your uncle in Rome," he remarked, noticing how utterly lovely she looked in her stylish gown and her hair arranged on her small head. "He is well and soon to return to England. But his work has kept him longer than he had thought."

"So I have heard from my latest letter! You know that is not unusual for Uncle Edgar," Katrina laughed. "You shall have to tell Mabel and I all about it." The Earl nodded and Ross noted that she had used the Earl's first name. How well did she know him?

He watched as Katrina, the Earl, and Mabel repaired to the cooler Salon to talk. It was clear that Katrina knew the Earl from elsewhere. That was something he had not been expecting.

Katrina could hardly believe she was circling the ballroom in the arms of Ryan McTeague.

"Perhaps I was right," she murmured to herself. "Perhaps it is a fairy tale!"

Ryan smiled down at her, looking quite handsome in the McTeague tartan and plaid. A smart cairngorm pin graced his black velvet jacket as well. "Shall you take flight soon then, my friend?"

She laughed at his joke and told him, "I was telling Elise earlier that Castle McGrath resembles a fairy story tonight, it is so elegant and gleaming with care. And I never would have dreamed of seeing you hear tonight, Ryan. And that you are the new Earl!"

"It has been some time, has it not?" he echoed, noticing how graceful she was in his arms. "But time has altered us both in many ways. For one, you have grown even more lovely and charming than the last time I saw you. And I do not say it lightly, Katrina."

Blushing, Katrina could not resist chuckling. "One trait that has not changed is your ability to flatter a young lady, Ryan. It is kind of you to say it."

"I mean every word," he spoke quietly, sincerely. "You seem more confident now, less reserved as well. I have to say I am glad of it. I was concerned that all those years sequestered with your uncle had ruined your prospects for good."

His words made her laugh out loud, thinking of how right he was. "You are not far from the mark, Ryan. Had it not been for Uncle Edgar's visit to Rome, you should not see me here tonight. My sister Sophie and her husband, Admiral Croft, encouraged him to let me go to Lyme to stay with my brother Frederick."

"That is how you met Miss Stenning, then," Ryan surmised quickly. "Are you staying here at the Castle, then? How wonderful! I do hope I may come and call on you whilst I am home. I should like to discuss my travels with you before I leave next month."

Katrina grinned at his eagerness. His excitement for travel and discovery had not been diminished by time. "It should not surprise me that you are already planning your next expedition. Where are you headed next?"

"The Nile River valley," he said with great excitement, his brown eyes dancing. "I have not visited it since I was a much younger man. I cannot wait to see how much it has changed. And to explore!"

"You speak as if you are one of the fossils you are hoping to discover," Katrina teased him. "When I know you cannot be older than two and thirty! You must tell me what route you plan to take. And which pyramids you hope to see!"

After sharing a glass of punch with Ian, Elise had managed to disengage her cousin from Serena Dunworth to entice him to dance with her. He gladly accepted her attempts to extricate him.

"Ross, I am angry with you," Elise promptly told him as the musicians began to play. "Are you going to allow that scheming little child ruin your evening? You have not danced once with Katrina this evening. She is bound to feel somewhat slighted. I know that I would."

"It is not a situation I am pleased with, cousin," Ross admitted to her. "When Serena is not at my side, another mother is springing her unfledged daughter into my arms. Or I have had to play host for Mother. This evening is not turning out as I had planned!"

"I see the new Earl of Teague has caught up with her," Elise murmured, glancing up to gauge Ross' reaction. "I met him earlier. A very pleasant gentleman, I presume. He and Katrina have a great deal in common."

"You are truly a minx to torment me like this," Ross growled with mock menace. "Only Ryan could return from Rome sunbronzed and healthy in the depths of winter! It is also apparent to me that they are already acquainted. How can he know her?"

"Apparently they met when the Earl was working with Edgar Wentworth a few years ago," Elise explained with some smugness. She enjoyed being one up on her cousin. "He was apparently quite eager to renew the acquaintance. As you can see he is. And why should he not? Katrina is in dazzling looks tonight."

"I should beat you if you were not my cousin," Ross remarked, looking up to see that Katrina was laughing at something the Earl had said. "After this dance, I intend to claim my dance. I do not think I can remain patient any longer. I am weary of playing host."

Fortunately, the dance came to an end and Ross found himself leaving Elise behind with Ian and making his way across the room to where Ryan McTeague faced Katrina, bowing over her hand as he requested another dance. He looked very at home doing so; something that made Ross' shoulders tense.

"Forgive me, Ryan, but I fear the next dance," Ross firmly said, "is mine! It is long overdue."

Ryan graciously deferred to his host and stepped aside. Her cheeks coloring a soft rosy hue, Katrina smiled shyly at Ross. She accepted his hand and with great care, Ross led her to the floor. As she slipped into his arms for the waltz, her senses began to sing. She had always dreamed of what it would be like to dance with Ross in the grand old ballroom. This was much different than the Music Room.

"I am grateful for a waltz with you," Ross murmured against her hair. "For having you this close to me again is akin to a dream coming true. Lean against me now, little one. You're like a feather in my arms."

His strong arms felt like ample support as the music wafted over the room. She glanced up to see Lady McGrath dancing with Col. Campbell and shared a smile with her. It was clear she was happy to see her dancing with her son. Perhaps it wasn't her dearest wish to see Ross married to Serena.

"Your mother is in her element," Katrina told him, feeling as if she were exactly where she ought to be. Did he know how safe she felt in his arms? "Col. Campbell is acting the part of the gallant suitor and I must say it suits him well. I enjoy his visits here."

"He's happy to have found a good audience in you," Ross affirmed, noting how the lights reflected off of her soft hair. "And I saw you talking with young Mabel. She lit up like a candle when she started talking to you. She is a very brilliant girl, but very shy. I knew she would take to you right away."

"I like her very much," Katrina confirmed, noticing that Serena was arrowing her a look of utter distaste. "She wants to talk about Papa's work. It is not often one so young reads his work. And to find that she is Ryan McTeague's sister was quite a surprise."

Ross watched her face carefully. "Elise told me that you knew each other from his former work with your uncle. It must have been rather amazing to find him in attendance tonight."

"Yes, he was most anxious to work with Uncle Edgar," she remarked, grinning in memory. "He and Uncle Edgar kept the candles burning from dawn to dusk. He taught him everything he knew about the ancient Etruscans. And the Moors. He had never seen a young man so anxious to learn."

"Ryan always immersed himself in intellectual pursuits," Ross commented dryly, not missing how her eyes lit up when she spoke about the Earl. Had there been more to their friendship? Was she happy to see him again?

Katrina wondered at his words and quietly told him, "Ryan reminds me of a very happy time in my life, Ross. And nothing more. He was one of the few men close enough to my age that did not think me mad for being intelligent. He never thought talking to me was beneath him. And he has seen Uncle Edgar, who is quite pleased to have been delayed by his work yet again."

Feeling somewhat ashamed, Ross gave into his desire to lightly brush his lips against her forehead. "Forgive me, my fairy. I have been a terrible partner to you this evening. And now this. Of course you are happy to be reunited with an old friend. And to hear of your uncle. You had not received news from him until very lately, had you not?"

"No, I had not," Katrina softly agreed, again catching sight of Serena as she fumed on the sidelines. The young woman was truly not happy. Not even surrounded by a bevy of admirers, who were vying for her attention. It was clear she wanted Ross. And nothing would stand in her way. The reality of it jolted Katrina to the core.

Ross wondered what it was in Edgar's letter that had made Katrina so pensive. Did Edgar Wentworth want her to join him in Rome? That was always a possibility, he realized. But Ross had never entertained that she would accept such an offer. She belonged right where she was.

"Have I told you how lovely you look tonight?" he softly asked, his gaze softening. "That is a lovely necklace you are wearing."

"Mama left it to me," Katrina told him, a smile of memory warming her face. "It was one of the few fine things she owned. I had always admired it as a child. Now as an adult, I find myself quite attached to it. I hope that I have become someone…she would be proud of to wear it."

Ross' heart ached at the slightly wistful note in her voice. She had known her share of sadness in her life, he realized. And few to share that pain with. It was truly natural that she should be struggling now to face her fears, to talk about her grief. No one had been there to listen before. Why should she begin to think any differently?

His thumb lightly grazed her soft, bare neck. "Your mother is smiling down on us tonight, my fairy," he gently assured her. "And I can tell you with full truth that she is bursting with pride to see what a lovely, kind, giving young woman her daughter has become. For that is what I see in you."

Katrina's voice caught in her throat, her eyes locked with his. A dazzling jolt of love for him burst through her heart as he swept her around the room. He was so dear to her heart, the finest man she could ever hope to love. How blessed she was to have him in her life, to be a part of his life.

"Oh Ross," she whispered, feeling her eyes go damp. How she wished they were alone at that moment so she could tell him everything she was feeling.

The gong sounded for supper then, cutting short the magical moment. The dancing quickly came to an end as they began to proceed to the dining room. But the glow in Ross' eyes did not diminish. And his fingers held hers tightly in his.

Chapter 41

Posted on Friday, 29 January 1999

"I cannot imagine anyone causing you to stir this early but a certain handsome landowner hereabouts."

Elise's fair head rose quickly as she turned from her dressing table. Standing in the doorway, bearing a steaming cup, was Katrina, still attired in her dressing gown. Her hair was pulled back by a satin ribbon. They both laughed out loud at the truth of her words.

"You have caught me out, my dear," Elise told her, putting down her silver hairbrush. "Do come in before your feet take cold. You must ask Rose to fetch your slippers. Much as I love the old place, it can be a mite drafty."

"I have brought you some chocolate," Katrina said, closing the door behind her. "I spied Betty in the hall and told her I would bring it in. You must at least have something hot to drink before taking to the hills on Centaur. It is quite delicious!"

Elise accepted the cup gratefully and drank the fragrant beverage. It was barely past 7 a.m. but she had promised she would join Ian to inspect the new dam that had been installed over the past week. He was eager to show it to her and as the sky was clear, the day promised to prove very fine indeed. While it was cold, her riding habit was quite warm and her boots thick.

"That is your new habit," Katrina remarked with admiration as she drew up a small gilt chair to watch Elise pin her hair up. "Very becoming, I must tell you. And it is quite diverting thing that you chose that lovely shade of green. I think I recall Sir Ian saying that green had become his favorite color. That can only be a coincidence."

"You are deliberately baiting me," Elise returned with mock severity. "And after so kindly bringing me some refreshment and being helpful to old Betty. I cannot help it if I like green, can I? And you will recall that Madame Juliette told me it matched my eyes very nicely. There can be nothing wrong in wishing to look presentable, even in the country."

"Oh no, certainly not," Katrina agreed readily, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Considering how all the young ladies in the county now wish to follow your lead in the fashion world. And all the better so Sir Ian may gaze into your eyes and tell you how lovely they are! Perhaps some verse would be appropriate as well?"

Dissolving into laughter, Elise nearly tossed her hair pins aside. She was so transparent. She could do little to hide her motivations. "I am a fraud, am I not?" she asked, wiping her eyes. "Katrina, may I speak honestly with you?"

Propping her chin on her knees, Katrina regarded her friend affectionately. She had been waiting for such a request. "I do not think you could ever be anything else, my dear. Speak your mind and I shall listen and help if I may."

"I…I am at a loss to know what to do," she quietly confessed, looking down at her hands. "Ian…I care for him so much. I..I've never felt like this before. About any man. One moment I am almost giddy with delight and the next I am downcast…for fear he does not care for me. You must tell me what to do. I shall surely make a terrible hash of it all shortly."

Katrina silently marveled at her friend. Even seated before the large, oval mirror, she could not truly see the beauty her image cast in the reflection there. The early rays of day were pouring in through the window, bringing out the golden highlights of her abundant hair. She was truly lovely.

Katrina could not help but notice her friend at the ball last night. She had attracted many admiring glances. That had not surprised her. But while it had not been obvious to the others, it had been clear to Katrina that there was only one man whose opinion she valued when it came to wishing to be admired.

"I do not know if I am qualified to give advice in matters of the heart," Katrina began gently. "You have seen what a sad muddle I have made of my own, so please do not follow my example. At the same time, I do know one thing. Whenever you enter a room where Sir Ian is present, his eyes follow you about. When I hear you talking together, he listens carefully to what you say. And he is very at ease in your company."

Setting aside her cup, Elise smiled thoughtfully. So Katrina had noticed it as well. She was gratified to know she was not imagining it.

"You are kind to tell me these things. Last night…well, it was quite different than our usual verbal debates and teasing jokes. He paid me the most amazing compliments. And he seemed quite reluctant to hand me over to the Earl of Teague to dance. I can only wonder as to his intentions. If he does love me, why does he not say so? He is usually quite frank in his opinions and thoughts."

With a knowing smile, Katrina nodded. "Is it not a wonder that men's hearts are eternally a mystery? Then again, they speak such things about us! I only know that when the time is right, everything that need be said will be, in the proper place and season. I know it is easy for me to say such things. But…that is all I know to say. Forgive me for being so useless."

Elise sighed with relish. "I suppose you are right. But Mama is growing rather anxious for me to return home by spring. And Papa is lonely for me. I do miss them both. It may be too late for declarations if I depart for the South. Just the same, I cannot regret having met Ian again…and loving him. He will always be my dearest friend…even if we are very far apart."

"He will speak his heart before that happens," Katrina predicted, handing her the small, black hat and gloves that completed her ensemble. "I do not think he will allow you to escape so easily. Especially when he catches a glimpse of you in this fetching outfit."

With a sudden jolt, Elise realized she had not asked Katrina about her own thoughts of the ball. "I have been nattering on like a mosquito, my dear," she said quickly. "You must join me after luncheon for a coze. I want to hear more about how you met the Earl of Teague! He is a fascinating man, is he not?"

"He is an old friend," Katrina reminded her with a wink as she rose from her chair. "And it was a delight to see him once again. To recount old times. He has promised to show me some of his discoveries tomorrow. I am very eager to see them. And to talk of my uncle's progress."

"Are you eager to see the relics or the Earl?" Elise wickedly asked, grinning as she also stood.

"The relics, you brat," Katrina returned gamely. "Ryan is married to his research and his quest for learning. I have long since learned that. He…he reminds me of my life before…everything changed. And right now, that is something I deeply appreciate."

Touched by her honesty, Elise embraced her quickly. "Forgive me, Katrina. I did not mean to make sport of you. It has been such a joy to see you smile again, to hear you laugh. I would never wish you to be so utterly unhappy again."

Pulling back, Katrina nodded. "It feels wonderful to feel something akin to normal once more. And I know you are only teasing. It was not easy watching Ross spend half the evening partnering Serena Dunworth. To have Ryan and Mabel to talk with was a great support I did not expect. I am grateful for it."

Elise rolled her eyes dramatically. "That silly girl! She has more wiles than an African spider, I do declare. She may seem quite harmless, but she knows what she is about. Her mother managed to capture Serena's father in such a manner. Surely you know that Ross doesn't care a sou for her. His heart has long since been given over to you."

Katrina looked away, her hair spilling over her shoulders as she considered the words. "When he looks at me, I think he must. But his actions last night…they say otherwise. Perhaps it is best if I left him in peace, Elise. She is exactly the kind of woman he should marry. She is young, beautiful, intelligent—"

"And an utter bore," Elise concluded firmly as she put on her hat. "Perhaps it is time you spoke with Ross, my dear, and told him everything that is resting on your heart. It has long been coming, I think."

"Perhaps so," Katrina murmured as she opened the door. "But you are nearly late for your ride, and I should not like to incur Sir Ian's displeasure!"

"Do you remember this particular spot?"

Elise turned to look at Ian, smiling wisely. "How can I not? 'Twas here that we first met. Ross introduced us, and I do believe I had caught my skirt edge on a gorse bush. Not one of my more flattering moments, I assure you."

Remembering now, Ian laughed, his eyes dancing with merriment. "Now I do recall assisting you in removing yourself from that very bush. But that is not what I recall most about that day."

Sitting atop her English hunter, Centaur, Elise was brimming with health and vitality. Her black velvet hat was perched at a jaunty angle on her fair hair and her eyes were bright with happiness. "What do you recall? That I was forever tumbling into prickly situations, sir?"

"Something much different, I fear," Ian confessed gently. "I thought how very natural you were. How free of pretense and artifice. I remember thinking that Ross must be mistaken in saying you were from the South."

As they slowly rode up a hill, Elise patted her mount encouragingly. They had just finished a good gallop. "I fear I am all too natural, Ian. My candid tongue has often caused much disapproval from more august personages. It is most unfortunate but it cannot be helped. I am too old to make such changes now. So there you have it. I am quite a lost cause."

Chuckling, Ian straightened his tall hat and told her, "You sound as if you were in your dotage, my dear, and in need of a Bath chair. When I know you are as youthful…and lovely as ever. No one could ever consider you to be old. Not when you smile in such a bewitchingly lovely way."

They continued riding in a companionable silence. Elise found herself wondering where Ian's conversation was headed. He had been paying her some rather unexpected compliments in the past few days. She did not know what to make of such attention. She did not want to believe that she could mean anything beyond a friend to him. It would be too much of a disappointment to return home with such hopes, knowing they would never see each other again.

He had no idea how she had dreamed of him that evening after the ball, how his strong arms had swept her round the room. The sound of his laughter, low and deep his chest. The soft glow his eyes took on when he talked about the land he farmed. He had no idea how difficult leaving him behind was going to be.

Elise had never imagined she would fall in love. It had seemed to be reserved for certain people, but not for her. Then she had seen Ian again and all of that had changed. She knew that magnetic feeling of understanding, of awareness of another person, of one special man. She had never felt that with any other man. With Ian, she was free to be herself and not fear his disapproval. He was a man who felt things intensely. It was a quality she rarely witnessed and she admired it in him. And he cared about his tenants and his land.

They arrived at the dam and dismounted, the horses content to nibble on the dry grass. As they inspected the workmanship, Elise saw the way Ian had carefully planned its construction and how he had executed everything, overseen the work. He was very much in harmony with the activity on his estate, took care that everything was done properly.

"Once again, your work is superlative," Elise told him as he knelt beside the water. "It is difficult to believe you have only been in possession for a few years and effected so many changes for the good. Ross tells me you are often up late in the evening reading up on how to improve the yield of your crops."

Nodding, Ian's eyes surveyed the dam with a keen eye. "It is something of a fever, I suppose. It has taken hold of me and will not allow me to remove myself. Then again, Longmoor has been in my family for over two hundred years. I should not wish to bring shame upon such an esteemed history."

"I can understand that very well," Elise said, thinking how many men would have cared little for such things. How often had she seen men of Ian's status ruining their prospects in drink and cards in London? He cared about something other than himself and she loved him for it.

"I understand Mr. McNair helped you with this," Elise remarked as they walked over to stand beneath a tall, hearty pine tree. Down below she could see his house. "His daughter Maureen has been helping out at the Castle, you know. It was very good to see her again, despite her rather inquisitive nature."

"She enjoys her moments of grandness at the Castle," Ian commented, noticing how the sunlight shone on her fair hair. Alone with her like this, it was difficult for him not to imagine a future in which she was often at his side, helping him make decisions and planning for the future. "I am certain she was pleased to see you again, after such a long absence from the area. They were all in transports over your ballgown. You were the talk of all the women belowstairs."

Chuckling, Elise nodded. "She made certain that she was with my maid, Bella, when I had finally put it on. Of course, Maureen had a number of questions to ask me, all at once. She was despairing over my unwedded state and has sworn to provide me with a husband if it is the last task she performs."

"Did she now?" Ian echoed, his curiosity piqued. "As promising as Maureen's skills may be as a matchmaker, I fear her efforts would be somewhat misguided. I should much rather you trust my guidance in that area, dear friend. For I alone have your best interests at heart."

Elise turned away from him, wishing she had not spoken so freely. He would think she was fishing for compliments and that was not her intent. She leaned back against the pine tree, her fingers toying with the buttons on her riding habit skirt. "I told her that she could do as she pleased, but I would have none of it. I…I do not think I shall ever marry."

Her words were spoken lightly, but Ian knew the motivation behind them was all too genuine. Elise knew her own mind and had little trouble in speaking it. He only knew that he must do all that was within his power to change her mind.

At the ball, she had seemed almost shy at times, as if finally aware of him as a man and not just a friend. There had been an awareness in her eyes he had not seen before. It was most unlike her. Did she know how deeply she affected him? How his eyes could not help but follow her about a room? That her laugh was like music to his heart after a wearying day? That her steadfast kindness surrounded her like an aura?

If not, it was time she knew. The time for action had come. No matter what the outcome, Ian knew it was time to test the waters. He came round the tree and took off his hat, tossing it onto the ground. With a resolute look in his eyes, he took Elise's gloved hands in his and held them there.

"I think that would be most unfortunate," he quietly told her, his thumbs lightly caressing her palms. "I should like to know why you feel this way about the matrimonial state. I find myself desperately curious to know your answer at this moment."

Elise drew in a slow breath, her eyes darting away abruptly. She had never imagined herself being so shy with Ian. They knew each other so well. Had shared so many things together. And yet now, facing him like this, feeling the strength of his hands, she found herself blushing like a schoolgirl. Her common sense was flying out the window like a dove in flight for its nest.

But Ian would have none of it. Releasing one hand, his fingers tilted her small chin up to look into his eyes. The mere action caused her heart to skip a beat. "Tell me, Elise," he softly demanded. "Is there no man whom it would please you to call husband?"

Her heart was beating quickly now. Surely it must be loud enough for him to hear, she thought. She was trapped against the tree with no means of escape. No clever, witty reply came to her tongue. There was no recourse but to tell him the truth.

"That is not…the problem," she heard herself stammer. What a mess I am making of this, she thought with dismay. He must think I am an utter fool. I truly must be!

But Ian did not seem displeased by her lack of poise. He found her lack of composure incredibly adorable. A slow smile curved his lips and the breeze ruffled his hair. Elise felt something inside of her tightening, quickening as it never had before. More than ever, she longed to lift her hand and touch it, to feel its texture beneath her fingers.

"Who is it that has captured your fancy, Miss Stenning?" he asked gently, having not released her chin. Instead, one finger lightly stroked the side of her jaw. His touch was like a feather, light but so sweet. "I should like to know it above all things. For whom your love waits in secret. "

Elise was mesmerized by him, by the moment that was unfolding. Never in her lifetime had she imagined that she and Ian would be talking like this, that he would be gazing at her in such a way that left her in little doubt as to his feelings. He was not regarding her as his companion, his sister in work and play. It was the appraisal a man gives a woman that he admires, desires, and loves. She saw now his intentions and felt her heart begin to glow.

"It is a bullheaded farmer, sir," Elise murmured softly, her hands lifting to rest against the lapels of his coat. They rested there on his chest. "He is a handsome dancer and an excellent landlord. His tenants give him high praise. He seems to think he is something of a yeoman, but I think not. His pride sometimes keeps him from seeking what he wishes, but eventually his heart is won over by the truth. To me, he is the most infuriating collection of wonderful, exasperating traits I have ever witnessed. Except in one respect."

Ian's heart turned over in his chest. Despite his relaxed demeanor, he had inwardly feared she might laugh at him and push him away. But the warmth and affection in her green eyes were speaking for her more than any words might.

"And in what manner is this paragon of virtues negligent?" he asked, slowly, lovingly drawing her into his embrace. He wanted to savor the action, to store it in his heart for all time as her sweet, soft body nestled against his. My dear Elise, he thought with sweet joy, my beloved.

"He has been something of a slowtop in kissing me," she whispered ardently against his ear, her heart nearly bursting with happiness. "I am in agony for want of his delay."

"How very shocking! The man should be whipped. But I do believe he is in want of remedying that lamentable character flaw," Ian murmured, his mouth against her hair. The sweet aroma of honey invaded his senses. "And cannot wait another moment longer to do so, Miss Stenning."

His mouth found hers a second later and it was difficult to think after that. Elise only knew that finally he was kissing her, loving her, possessing her in a way she had never imagined possible. She was held fast against his heart, his lips savoring hers as if they were a rare, beloved treasure. In a daze, they drew apart, although Ian kept her firmly anchored to his body.

"You will not mind being married to a rusticating farmer, who cares little for London, and is prone to reading agricultural reports?" he asked, his voice low and moved as his hand rested at the small of her back. "Will you marry me?"

"I must hear you say it, Ian" she softly told him, her cheek resting on his shoulder. It was stronger, more wonderful than her happiest dreams. "In this alone I will play the tyrant. Then you shall have my answer."

"I love you, Elise. It comes as natural to me as breathing," he assured her, kissing her forehead with a lingering warmth. "Do you love me?"

"Until I thought I should die for want of telling you," she confessed, her head still spinning a little. "I don't care about London. I only know that I want to be here with you always. Just as we are now."

"You always will be," he vowed urgently, his mouth finding hers again, unable to stop himself from doing so.

Down past a stand of trees, Ross was returning home from having gone on his early morning ride. Mr. McNair was riding with him, telling him about the dam Ian had recently built, and now showing it to him. They suddenly realized they had stumbled upon an extremely intimate moment and halted their horses.

Mr. McNair whistled low in his throat, grinning like a young schoolboy as he glanced at Ross. "Twould seem your fair cousin is soon to wed, sir. And t' master will be a bachelor nay more!"

Smiling with a contentment he felt down to the core of his soul, Ross nodded. "It would appear so, indeed, Mr. McNair. Indeed!"

Continued In Next Section