Hidden in Plain Sight

After her scandalous first Season, Lady Kathryn needs a new beginning. Concealing her stunning hair and sapphire eyes beneath a dowdy facade, she’s grateful to earn her keep as companion Kate Montgomery. Until she comes face-to-face with her past in Lord Dalton, the only man she has ever loved.

The debutante Dalton fell in love with years ago was beautiful beyond compare. The gentle, mysterious young woman he encounters at a country house has qualities he now values more highly—until he learns of her deception. Kate has broken his heart not once, but twice. Can faith help him see that love, like true beauty, always comes to light?

“I must go.”

Kathryn could feel the tears welling in her eyes; she could not stay any longer and talk to Dalton as if she did not know him. She did know him—he was the only man she had ever loved. And she had left him...a gullible girl importuned by a dashing rogue. It had ruined her life. Now she was being touched by her past in a tangible way.

“Am I not to be granted the same privilege before you leave?” he asked gently. “As far as introductions go, this one falls sadly flat, but shall we blame our circumstances for the impropriety?”

His hair was a bit longer now; it hung a little over his collar. It suited him. She had to stop this!

Kathryn must flee and she knew it. She could spend no more time in his company and risk all she had worked for over the past four months. His strength and magnetism now scared her—she wanted to stay.

No! she screamed in her head.

“I cannot” was all she said.

MARY MOORE

has been writing historical fiction for more than fifteen years. After battling and beating breast cancer, Mary is even more excited about her career, as she incorporates some of her struggles throughout her books, dedicated to encouraging others in the Lord and using her writing for God’s glory.

Her debut novel, The Aristocrat’s Lady, won several acclaimed awards, including the 2011 Reviewers’ Choice Award from RT Book Reviews for Best Love Inspired Historical, and the 2011 Holt Medallion from VRW for Best Book by a Virginia Author.

Mary is a native of the Washington, D.C., area, but she and her husband, Craig, now live in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains in southwestern Virginia. When not writing, she loves to read, minister in her church and spend time with her husband and black Lab, Darcy.

Mary would love to hear from you! She can be reached by visiting her website at www.marymooreauthor.com.

Beauty in Disguise

Mary Moore

www.millsandboon.co.uk

And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you.

— Ephesians 4:32

This book is dedicated to

Carol Taylor O’Leary

My Sister-In-Law

My Sister in Christ

My Very Dear Friend

Whom I Dearly Love!

Without her encouragement, support

and not-so-gentle persuasion

my writing career would still be

in a box in the attic,

and my heart might not belong to Jesus.

To God Be the Glory!

Contents

Quotation

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

Quotation

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes...

—Lord Byron

Chapter One

Sussex, 1814

“You!”

Kathryn had pulled her hood more closely around her face and turned to leave the bridge. What she ran into almost knocked the breath out of her. Two strong hands gripped her shoulders to steady her. When she looked up at the man towering over her, she spoke out of shock. It was him. Lord Dalton was here, and she almost said his name. She would have known him anywhere, even after nine years. He wasn’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow. She was prepared for tomorrow, not for this.

“I beg your pardon?” he said, as he searched for her eyes in the shadows of her hood. “What did you say?”

“I...um...you...you frightened me.” She was still shaky, though she knew complete safety in his grip.

“Steady there, waif. You have been too reflective this night. With your head in the heavens, you did not see me.” He was smiling down at her, and she quickly pulled her hood even closer. Could it be possible he was even more handsome?

She must keep her wits about her. She must play the part. “Who are you?”

“Ah, I see it is to be direct interrogation from the start,” he replied. “As a military man I recognize your tactics.” His voice was deeper than she remembered, but she could not forget the playfulness always near the surface of his words.

Her voice had a quiet calm, and she followed her instinct to respond in playfulness. He always had such a wonderful sense of humor. Who would know? “Interrogation? With one question? Whose military were you a part of?”

He laughed out loud. “Touché, madam!”

“Could you please let me go? I am quite recovered.” Why was he wandering around Trotton in the middle of the night? For that matter, why was he here a day early? And why hadn’t he gone to the Manor? “What reason makes you wander about in the night?”

“I suspect my reason to be similar to yours,” he said, grinning in the moonlight. “I could not sleep and decided the evening air might do the trick. As to my identity, my name is Dalton and I am presently staying at the inn in Midhurst.”

Kathryn could feel the tears welling in her eyes; memories crashed in on her like the sea on the shore. She talked to him as if she did not know him. But she did know him—he was the only man she had ever loved. And she had left him...a gullible girl importuned by a dashing rogue. It had ruined her life. Now she was being touched by her past in a tangible way.

She could not turn back the hands of time, but could she make it stand still for this night?

“Am I not to be granted the same privilege?” he asked.

His hair was a little longer now; it hung over his collar. It suited him.

What was she doing? She could not risk all she had worked for over the past four months just because his strength and magnetism drew her in.

“Wait.” The compelling but gentle hand still gripped her arms, holding her back. “You must not be afraid, lass, but I cannot let you go into the night alone. Please allow me to escort you to your home.”

She kept her head down. She did not know if he would recognize her, but it was much more likely tonight, without her normal disguise, and that would ruin everything. He was getting a little too close.

“What are you about, Mr. Dalton? Let me go at once.” She thought her deliberate ruse of dropping his title might be the only way she would have of throwing him off the scent, should he suspect. She tugged at the hand still gently holding her arm. “I am familiar with the landscape and I need no escort.”

He scolded her seriously. “As you have proof before you, danger can lurk without your knowledge. I shall not let familiarity with the area sway me to leave a woman alone at midnight.”

Kathryn did not struggle; she knew it would be futile. She only needed to await an opportunity to elude his grasp. But even now, she remembered the strength in those arms. They had once kept her close to his side when he had walked with her. They had once kept his famous horses in check while they drove to Richmond Park. And they had often held her safe while dancing to the strains of a waltz in a crowded ballroom.

She always thought him the handsomest man she had ever seen. She spent many a night, in her younger days, reliving the feeling of being in those arms during a waltz. But she was whisked from Town all too soon and tried to put that time behind her. And she had succeeded, until now.

Had she hurt him? It must have hurt him, even if he had not cared for her as much as she had cared for him. She had fallen under the spell of a well-known rake and believed his impassioned protestations of love. He was older and flattered her, and he made her elope with him.

No, to own the truth, she had agreed to that on her own.

She was too young to realize that the steady and truest love, Lord Dalton’s love, was the only one worth having. And the price for that lesson was the loss of her reputation, her father’s affections and God’s presence in her life.

She stood thus, all the while knowing that the longer she stayed in close proximity to him, the more of a chance she took. But her feet seemed rooted to the spot. When told that he was coming to Dinsmore Manor, she had been shocked. In all of England, he was coming to the one spot she thought safe. And she remembered holding her breath, waiting, listening for the words with his wife, but they had not materialized. Now she did not know which was worse.

“Who are you?” he whispered. “Shall I awaken in the morning and this will all have been a dream? Only an illusion of my imagination destined to disappear?”

Tomorrow she would disappear just as he predicted, and he would see her no more. She would again don the disguise created to hide her true identity from the world, to protect her livelihood. He would never suspect that she was Lady Kathryn, the daughter of the Marquis de Montclaire, the young girl he had courted nine years ago in London.

She must not think about that. As long as her hood covered her face, could she not enjoy herself? Just for a few minutes.

“You make too much of a name, sir.” She was still quiet and poised, but a little mischievous, as well. “Unlike you, I belong here. We are not destined to know each other, so there is no need for an introduction.”

“It is as I suspected, then,” he said, his voice deep and low. “You are an enchanted fairy. You know our future before it happens and predict pain for me if I am not to know you.”

Despite the mesmerizing voice and the danger she feared, Kathryn did not falter. “I am no fairy. I only speak the truth.”

“I know it cannot be, but...am I acquainted with you?” His words startled her. He must not learn her secret. He continued, “I do not believe in the bewitching tales of the Weald. You are flesh and blood and I am real. Where is the impediment to our meeting again?”

Kathryn soothed him with her voice. “Sir, it is after midnight in a moonlit glade. Everything will change with the daylight, as it always does. I will ask you again to please release me.” She knew if she had not known who he was, she would have been terrified. She must act rationally, whether silly banter was involved or not!

“I fear once I release you, you will fly.” He lifted her chin with one finger, but she did not look at him. His grip on her arm stayed any movement she intended. “I will not let you go under the threat of reality. Whether I escort you to your home or not, I demand an assurance—a token, if you will, that I have not dreamed this entire night.”

“I have no such token,” she said quietly, all too aware of what gentlemen usually wanted as a forfeit. At the same time, she knew he would never harm her.

“Since I have no scissors for a lock of your hair, I must exact my talisman from what is available to me.” He lifted her hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. She remembered how amazing she felt the first time he had done so, even though nine years had passed. Her heart once again skipped a beat.

She made her body relax. The tension eased and they stood alone and silent, as she planned. “You now have your talisman. If you free me, I will not run away, but you must keep your distance.”

She waited and he reluctantly released his grip on her, a reminder of the haven she had once known and had thrown away.

“I cannot remain, Mr. Dalton. I have already been here awhile.”

“You promised you would not leave if I let go of your arm.”

“So I did. However, my military training tells me I must say anything to obtain my freedom from an unknown assailant.”

He chuckled again. “I think you know I will not harm you. Otherwise, you would have run the instant you were free.”

“For some reason, I believe all thatchgallows say that to women who are alone in the middle of the night.”

“Your instincts are sound. May I point out, however, that was I planning to pillage and plunder, I surely would have done so by now.”

“Yes, but your army has already been found wanting once this night. And perhaps I should have warned you from the first—I am armed.”

“Ah, yes, it is in the military codebook that if you are armed, you must so inform your assailant. May I ask with what are you armed?”

“If you knew my weapon, I would be at a complete disadvantage.”

“You need not tell me. I have figured it out on my own. You are hiding a canon under your cloak. There, am I right?”

“My goodness, are you the last of your army?” He laughed again and she realized that even nine years later, she still missed his laugh.

“Who are you, my delight? Please give me your name and where I may call on you. I was extremely fearful this would be the dullest fortnight I have had to date. I believe you relieve me of my fear.” He bent his head, trying to see her face beneath her hood.

“I am afraid I must go. It has been a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Dalton.”

“Wait, give me your name, anything! When will I see you again?”

“I shall be elusive, and I shall be ever present.”

“Say you will come again tomorrow night. This same time.”

What was she doing? She was trying to recreate their past, only as more seasoned participants. She would be careful, she told herself. She would keep her cloak close around her. “Till tomorrow, then. Now I must go.”

Turning, she ran as fast as her ragged breathing would allow. Afraid he would follow her, she ran straight for the small copse of trees, fading into its dark tentacles and finally stopping against one of Sussex’s wide oaks to listen for the sound of his approach.

She stood quietly for several seconds trying to still her pounding heart, and soon grew confident that no footfalls or hoofbeats trailed her. After waiting a number of minutes, willing her breathing to slow, she turned toward the manor and began her walk back. She was overjoyed and saddened by an all-new taste of life she knew would never pass her way again. God had not forgiven her for her mistake. Why not add another to the list?

She would spend one more evening in his company, and then she would truly disappear.

Back in her room, she stared at herself in her tarnished mirror and it all came flooding back. As she lay down in her bed, tears rolled out of the corners of her eyes and dampened the pillow. Not only was she ruined beyond reparation and unwelcome in her own home, but she would be shunned should she seek help from any of her family or friends in London. No one would countermand her father’s orders.

She had told Lord Dalton the truth. He would never see her again. Tomorrow she would don the trappings that grew more burdensome each day but made her unrecognizable to those in her previous circles. There had been no other option after she was abandoned by the rogue. She was alone and needed to make her own way in the world. But she could not do so as herself. She would disguise the beauty Lord Dalton saw tonight with the accoutrements of a dowdy wig, a pair of spectacles and lumbering shoes. Lady Kathryn would become clumsy and drab Miss Kate Montgomery, the hired companion of the daughter of the house.

And until tonight, that had been enough.

* * *

He came upon the bridge while allowing Merlin a drink of water, and he was mesmerized. It was uncanny. She reminded him of someone, though he could not think of whom. In the moonlight, he watched her pace up and down the bridge, assuming some kind of inner struggle, only to relax again and take in deep breaths of the night air. Her hood was farther back, and she had a beautiful profile in the light of the moon.

Dalton watched, bemused, as she ran from him. He knew any attempt to catch her up would be foiled by her own avowal of a deep knowledge of the terrain. He stood solitary for several moments, a bit perplexed. What had come over him? He did not accost women he did not know. Perhaps accost was too strong a word, but something struck a chord with her. Was it her unsettled spirit? Her beauty? He hoped to find out at their next meeting.

He returned to the inn and lay awake a long time. It had been years since anyone had affected him so immediately...nine years, to be precise.

It had been his third Season and he’d only gone back to please his parents; he was ready for the army.

But he had met Kathryn—Lady Kathryn—and was very soon caught. She was young and in her first Season, but she was so different from the usual debutantes that flooded London each spring.

She was beautiful, so beautiful she took his breath away. Would he ever forget those eyes? He feared not. They were sapphire-blue. And he could see into her very soul through them. Her raven hair was thick and luxurious and her skin creamy, with a little bronze from the sun. But even had she not been so beautiful, he believed he still would have sought her out. She was selfless and intelligent. She smelled wonderful. They never tired of talking; they were so much in tune with each other’s thoughts. And her heart belonged to God. They talked of Scripture for hours.

Many of his happiest memories were the ones when they had waltzed. It was the only time they were allowed to touch, and her touch was so calm and gentle. And in a dance, it was her gracefulness that swept him away. She floated in his arms, and he had begun to fall in love with her in only two short months.

And he had thought, at the time, that she felt the same. He need only wait for the proper time after speaking to her father. He would give up thoughts of the army and take up a profession that she would be proud of—one that would not keep them apart.

But she left him. He looked for her at every ball. He scanned the boxes for her at the opera. He would have set up camp on her doorstep, only the knocker had been removed and no one answered. He finally wrote to her father at Montgomery Hall, but received no response. He was only too happy then to buy his commission, and to this day, he carried a deep scar that kept him from trusting another woman completely.

Dalton repositioned his pillow, reminding himself yet again that the past was the past, and he must now marry and beget an heir.

He had been trained to judge the character of others quickly in his position as a major in Wellington’s army. But in the Little Season he had only just left behind, he still doubted his ability to judge a woman. She had left him that curse.

And he knew not how he was to marry if he compared every woman to Kathryn. There had been no doubt in his mind that her feelings for him were as strong. He believed she, too, was falling in love. He had never misjudged someone so completely. It had not been so, and now he thought he could not marry for love. His heart was battered. He would wed based on credentials alone and pray that God would provide the companionship necessary to make the marriage work. He felt sure there was an eligible candidate, but he dreaded the search.

Heavenly Father, I know You will bring the woman You have for me in Your perfect timing. Please give me the patience to wait for her and for eyes centered on You to see her.

Yet before falling asleep, his last thoughts were of a waif in the moonlight, a winsome fairy who had taken his fancy.

* * *

“He will be here any moment. I demand you send Lacey elsewhere and help me complete my toilette!”

It was the next morning, and Kathryn heard Charity stomp her foot like a schoolgirl even though she could not actually see it. The talk had been of nothing but Lord Dalton for the past fortnight. She almost became sick of hearing his name until meeting him again last night on the bridge.

She had gone for one of her walks. She discovered after a few weeks in Trotton that could she shed her disguise even for an hour, she could bear the unwieldy trappings imposed on her by her own past actions. Once Charity was through with her for the evening, and usually only once a week, she would wait until the moon was high in the sky and take a solitary walk as herself.

She wore a voluminous cloak to cover her full appearance, but she had never really needed it until last night. She carried a small pistol her father had commissioned just for her. But no crime had come to the little town of Trotton for years, so she had not needed that, either. And she never saw another living soul at that time of night. Tales of goblins and trolls died hard in the Weald, and the Rother River Bridge was the source of many of those tales.

She was brought back to the present with another angry cry from Charity. “I believe you are not listening to me!”

Kathryn always tried to remain gentle and soft-spoken with her charge, but at times it was nearly impossible. “Charity, do try for a little decorum. No gentleman of fashion would arrive before noon.” That was the truth, but she did not understand Lord Dalton’s delay, as he was housed so close to the manor.

“You look quite nice in your apricot muslin, so I do not see how I may add anything to your appearance.”

“Nice...nice...?” The young beauty before Kathryn balled her fists in a spoiled rage. “I think I look quite stunning in this gown!”

Kathryn heaved a sigh of resignation. “Charity, you must stop puffing yourself up. It does you no good and will surely put Lord Dalton off.”

With her eyes closed in frustration, Kathryn wished she could get a message to Lord Dalton to flee for his life. She would not wish a fortnight of Charity upon him for any reason!

No, she must stop that line of thinking. She no longer knew him and had no right to determine what or whom he might like...despite their past.

She had desired nothing more than the darkness last night, a few moments of freedom. But today, despise it as she might, she was never more happy for the anonymity her masquerade brought her.

Her past mistake had haunted her for nine years, and she was no longer free to be Lady Kathryn. She was unwanted in London’s elite world, and she must support herself now. She had learned years ago that it was only possible if Lady Kathryn disappeared and Miss Kate Montgomery took her place—a wig, a pair of spectacles and unwieldy shoes her only protection. She accepted her responsibility and the following consequences of her own mistake. She would not cry and complain of injustice; she would not grow into a bitter, angry woman. She accepted her punishment. She had made her bed, now she must lie in it.

She was presently in the nursery visiting with the younger members of the household. Charity’s little sister chimed in, bringing Kathryn back to the present. “I am not vain, am I Miss Montgomery?” the child asked. She had adored Kathryn since the moment of her arrival, and it had become a mutual admiration very quickly.

Conversely, Charity had disdained Kathryn since the day she arrived. She flatly stated she had no need of a companion to teach her about the ton, and discarded Kathryn as she did all things for which she had no need.

Upon his return from London one month ago, Sir John Dinsmore, Charity’s father, declared he had invited no less a personage than Lord Dalton to the manor. “Zounds, my dear, zounds,” he had informed his wife. “The reputation of our stables has reached even to London! Even to London, upon my soul.”

There had been little peace since.

She knew Sir John thought himself quite the strategist. Only four months ago, Lady Dinsmore had hired Kathryn as a companion to Charity. Her parents had finally accepted that as beautiful as their daughter might be, she had been spoiled for so long that they feared the girl’s manners might hinder the possibility of an advantageous marriage. Even Lady Dinsmore could not be more excited. “Only think of it, Kate,” said the lady when they were alone. “An unmarried earl under our roof for a fortnight. What a singular opportunity for our Charity!”

She spoke in a sterner voice to her daughter. “I am sure Miss Montgomery has mentioned that you must not seem too eager when the earl arrives. There is no doubt he will notice you straightaway, but he will wish to know you better should you behave the least bit...evasive.”

Kathryn wondered if Lord Dalton’s military training had prepared him for the challenge that awaited him in Charity Dinsmore! Even as she wondered how she would be able to bear the next fortnight. He would be in the same house; she would know he was near, but more than likely she would have no contact with him at all.

Why did the idea hurt so after all this time?

Chapter Two

Kathryn felt that she would never be able to concentrate today, but her practical heart had not failed her.

Sleep, however, had been another matter entirely, and had evaded her all night. Over and over again she relived Lord Dalton’s words and actions. He held her as gently as a porcelain doll, but she was no less fettered. He spoke several times as if he could read her mind. And his kiss on her bare hand had been so very tender. To dwell on it again would only prolong the agony she thought had ended long ago. And yet she could not refuse him when he asked her to come again.

Thoughts of the past rushed through her mind. She had done the unthinkable—she had eloped. Almost from the time they could walk, young women were taught the importance of keeping a spotless reputation in the eyes of the ton. The two quickest ways to lose that invaluable status were simple: to be alone in the company of a single gentleman or to elope.

She was young and gullible and Lord Salford had swept her off her feet. The feelings she’d had for Lord Dalton caused her to hesitate; how could her heart have changed so quickly? But Lord Salford knew what he was doing. He said that Lord Dalton had not complimented her enough. He had not demanded her company or declared her his only happiness. Lord Dalton was going to leave to go into the army and was only dallying with her affections. Looking back on it now, it was easy to see that Lord Dalton had been the truer gentleman, recognizing her youth and protecting her from the gossips.

But in the end it did not matter. Lord Salford said if he could not have her, he would die of a broken heart. Then he told her they must elope, as she was underage. Romantic thoughts disappeared. Indeed, she was horrified! She would be eighteen in a few months; why could they not wait until then? Why did he not go to her father and ask his permission? She was sure he would give it, though he might want her to wait those few months. No, Lord Salford said, her father would try to make her believe he was not good enough for her.

So they had traveled to Gretna Green to be married. She knew it was wrong; she wanted no part of it, but Lord Salford had been relentless and she was too young to see his actions as proof that he was not a gentleman. They spent four endless days on the road, only stopping to change horses and eat. The trip alone should have opened her eyes. Lord Salford had ridden alongside the coach for much of the time, and came inside at night to sleep. He was uncommunicative and sullen, offering none of the endearments he had generously doled out the previous few weeks. He feared her father would discover their intent and would follow them to stop the marriage. She was afraid to tell him she had left a note for her father explaining her actions. It would never occur to her to just disappear!

When they got to Scotland and Salford discovered that she did not come into possession of her fortune at eighteen, he left her. He never married her, and he abandoned her with only her pin money from last quarter. She found herself desolate in a strange country after traveling days in a carriage alone with Salford. She had done both of the things that would tarnish a young woman’s name.

Her ruination had been complete.

Even her father could not forgive her, so he cast her off. And only a few short months later, Kathryn decided God could not forgive her, either. Life had become one unanswered prayer after another until she rarely sought Him anymore. She believed it made her stronger, but she missed the comfort and peace God had always given her.

Now she was to keep Charity in some semblance of proper behavior during Lord Dalton’s visit.

“Oh, why does he not come? I am so bored I could scream. I should have accepted Harry Bolton’s offer to go for a drive today. Now I am quite sorry I did not.”

Kathryn sighed in frustration. “Charity, I am all out of patience with you. The past two weeks you have been anxious and overwrought. It will not bring him here sooner. I have told you again and again that a man of Lord Dalton’s stamp will expect and prefer a properly behaved young woman, not one prone to go into a fit of the dismals.”

Charity appeared to take her advice to heart as an hour later Kathryn sat in the window embrasure of the drawing room, as she always did during tea. Charity sat before the tea tray looking beautiful and demure. If only it had been natural and not by design.

Kathryn had gone to her room to freshen up, and once again sat in front of her mirror seeing a stranger. How she wished she could meet Lord Dalton without hiding behind her mask. It was impossible, of course, for many reasons. She knew he must despise her for what she had done to him. He would not be happy to see her. More importantly, she could not bear to see the pity on his face if he recognized her. She could avoid her previous life with her disguise. She could not bear it should he discover her identity and turn his back on her.

She came back to the present and watched young Lacey as she very slowly and meticulously carried an overfull cup of tea to her. “You are doing splendidly, sweetheart,” she whispered. Lacey was starved for affection in the most pitiable way. She was sadly neglected, though Kathryn found her eager and willing to learn everything she could.

She was almost upon her with the cup of tea when the door opened and the butler announced in a deep baritone, “Sir John, Lord Dalton has called.”

Kathryn’s eyes sought the earl’s face of their own volition, and she felt a nostalgic wish in her heart that it was she in Charity’s place.

The teacup, so lovingly carried, rolled awkwardly across the carpet and a horrified gasp was the only sound heard upon this stentorian announcement. Kathryn’s quiet assurance directed at the disconcerted Lacey was the only thing that kept the self-conscious child from fleeing the room in tears.

“Jarvis frightened me, Miss Montgomery,” whispered the dismayed little girl.

“Indeed he did, Lacey. It is of no matter, for we will clean it up momentarily.” Kathryn discreetly bent to mop up part of the spill with her napkin as Sir John shifted his eyes from the small disaster to the man now coming toward him. Kathryn sensed Lord Dalton’s awareness of the situation and appreciated that he did not draw even more attention to Lacey.

It made her remember his kindness. He was a more mature version of her Lord Dalton, but his characteristics appeared to be intact. She decided she could not be responsible for her wayward thoughts while he was with them.

* * *

“Dalton, my boy, welcome, welcome!” Sir John stepped forward in obvious exuberance, hand outstretched in greeting. “Told the ladies you and I had agreed upon no specific time of arrival, so we have begun tea as usual. Apologize profusely, my boy.”

Lord Dalton entered the salon that seemed full of staring eyes. He realized that the two young children and one young girl were quite obviously Sir John’s progeny. There was also a lady of indeterminate age sitting by the window, but based on her appearance she was not a guest.

His quick observations did not show in his expression. He greeted his host graciously in return. “Sir John, I am honored. Please feel no dismay over beginning your tea. More to the point, I must apologize to your lady for my late arrival. I had no wish to upset your schedule further, so as you see, I have presented myself in all my dirt. Do forgive me, please.”

He could not tell them about this morning’s pursuit. He had begun his search for the woman of last night at the inn and hoped to have her direction by noon. Though she said she would return tonight, he wished to be prepared. He wanted her name and where she lived. His old tendencies in the army died hard.

His efforts had been fruitless. Three hours later he had not uncovered one clue. The vacant expressions on the faces of the people he talked to were easily verified as truth and not an attempt to protect one of their own. Yes, he had seen her only by the light of the moon, but he was no young buck allowing romantic settings to invent what did not exist. Her beauty, though seen only in shadows, had been unmistakable even without a clear description of her features. But there had been the rub. He could give no one that description.

Such defeat only made him more determined. She would not disappear as Kathryn had. He would not allow it a second time.

She was a lady, of that he had no doubt. He might speculate on the reasons that brought her to the bridge in the middle of the night, but he was determined to find out why.

To own the truth, he chuckled at himself. Having no luck finding her among the locals, he realized that her status as a lady might not be known to them. He decided he would question Sir John’s household as to her name and whereabouts.

He also began second-guessing his leading from God. He was attracted to her and clearly felt he was to know her, an instinct telling him he might already know her, even while acknowledging that was impossible.

His mother had advised him to avail himself of Sir John’s offer for a few weeks. He needed to accept what was due to his family name by finding a wife and setting up his nursery. But those he met during his short time in London seemed no more than schoolgirls only just out of their own nurseries! His mother suggested he stop trying to shop for a wife and let love come naturally.

He would not rest on his laurels as he could in Town. But women flocked to him in London, though he hated it. He need only pick one, yet not one had touched a chord in his heart. So he had taken his mother’s advice to visit Sir John.

Here in Trotton, the delight he felt on the bridge when the fairy responded to his banter made him think that love might come naturally, after all. He would meet her tonight, then await an opportunity to know her in the daylight. He would try to overcome his fear that he would not be able to judge her character accurately.

His mind came back to the drawing room as Sir John greeted him in return. “Do not mention it, I say, do not mention it,” he repeated in a now-familiar habit. “But you do remind me of my manners. Please allow me to introduce my family.” He whispered an aside, “Not to worry that they’ll be under your feet the entire visit, my boy, but I told them they must do the pretty to welcome you.”

Dalton was led to a matronly woman, still possessing a good figure despite her cap and graying hair. She was introduced as Sir John’s wife, but he had already deduced her parentage of the three younger members of the party. “My dear, this is Lord Dalton, who has come to put a few of my best hunters to the test.”

Dalton bowed over the extended hand and smiled at the woman politely lowering her head in return. “Your servant, ma’am. I can only wonder at your generosity. My intention was to put up at the inn, but your husband would not hear of it. I vow to remain least in sight during my stay so as not to disrupt your normal routine.”

“My lord,” Lady Dinsmore said, chiding him, “you speak nonsense. Of course you will stay with us. I hope you will find it quite comfortable here. Being so far from London, we are always exceedingly happy to have company.”

She arose and began to walk toward the fireplace. She continued speaking, and it was obvious that she expected him to follow. “Indeed, we stand upon no ceremony here.”

It was then that Dalton became conscious of the young lady seated on the settee before the fire to which Lady Dinsmore had been leading him. His heart knew a moment’s hope that the woman he met last night sat before him, but immediately he deduced that the blond child bore little resemblance to his midnight wanderer.

“Before we overwhelm you with the entire family, I will introduce you to my daughter so that you may receive your tea and make yourself more comfortable. I fear you must be fainting from malnutrition.”

Standing six feet two inches in his stockings, his size belied her statement so shockingly that he began to laugh, feeling that he might enjoy a stay with such a family.

He was once again aware of the woman in the window embrasure. Her lowered head shot up at his laughter.

Lady Dinsmore led him to the young woman serving tea, who flushed prettily and slowly raised large eyes of deep green. She was exquisite, but she was merely a child, and he had no interest in schooling his wife!

“This is my oldest daughter, Charity, my lord. She has been eager to meet such a distinguished guest,” she said, and with a maternal pat on his arm, added, “and to hear all about London. I am afraid you will be heartily sick of relating the latest on dits.”

The very young lady bowed her head in greeting. He thought no further than proper manners in meeting the child.

So when he bowed low in turn and again smiled at the girl, it was with the same courtesy as he used to greet her father. “Miss Charity, I am charmed, I’m sure. I understand this is where I am most likely to receive a cup of tea,” he said, smiling. “So beautiful a young lady goes a long way to reviving one. However, I confess that a cup of tea would not come amiss.”

“Oh, my lord, how kind,” the girl said, batting her eyelashes at him brazenly. He was honestly at a loss for words at her behavior, but he was able to mutter a quick thank-you when she handed him his cup.

Dalton heard a weary sigh from the woman in the window seat. Apparently, she was also aware of the young girl’s impropriety. Indeed, her parents did not seem to notice. He decided then and there that he wished very much to meet the woman who was so quiet, but all-observant.

* * *

Kathryn covertly watched the events unfold in front of her from the moment he walked into the room. His charm completely won over his hosts. His manners were impeccable, and his smile was heart-stopping, releasing the two dimples she had never been able to get enough of in London. They had been well hidden in the shadows of the night before, though she could not remember whether he had actually smiled at her or not. She was glad for her out-of-the-way placement and the opportunity it afforded to watch him openly without attention.

She was wrenched from her ruminations as Lady Dinsmore signaled for Jacob.

“My lord,” she began, “I should like you to meet my two youngest.” Jacob bounced off his chair as Lacey left Kathryn’s side, and both joined their mother.

“Lord Dalton, I should like to make you acquainted with my son and daughter, Jacob and Lacey.”

All watched as Jacob put one arm across his stomach and one arm behind his back and bowed deeply from the waist. The room smiled as a whole, excepting his older sibling, as he made his first attempt at being a young gentleman. Jacob was eight and showed not the slightest tendency toward the Dinsmore handsomeness. But Kathryn had grown to love the young boy, who was grateful for someone’s attention and, though a little boisterous, for the most part just wanted to be loved.

Lacey, more prone to shyness, curtsied very prettily with downcast eyes and muttered politely, “We are pleased you have come to visit us.”

Lord Dalton did not disappoint. Bowing very deeply himself, he lightly grabbed the hand of the little boy and shook it quite fashionably. “Your servant, Master Jacob. I look forward to your advice on the horses, as well. I am sure I can count on your judgment.”

Jacob’s eyes widened to twice their normal size, and he looked over his shoulder at her and giggled.

Lacey, in the meantime, was having her small hand kissed by the dashing lord bent on one knee before her. His eyes, quite level with hers, twinkled as he released her hand and said, “I can see that Trotton must feel very graced indeed at having two such beautiful sisters in their midst.”

Lacey could only stare, her mouth agape, but as he rose to his full height, she turned to her with a smile, as dazzling as any Charity could muster. Kathryn was a little embarrassed to feel tears form in her eyes at the happiness of the two little ones and felt completely unnerved to be so proud of a man she had absolutely no right to be proud of. She felt the tug of her heartstrings. That heart, the one she thought long ago on the shelf, was beating erratically and she sighed inwardly.

Kathryn’s mind was stayed on Lord Dalton. How she wished she could meet him as herself as she had last night under the cover of darkness. Would he turn away from her, as well? She had no reason to believe he would not. She had only the actions of other men to judge since her fatal mistake. Despite his manners, he would no doubt feel the same.

So lost in her thoughts was she that Lady Dinsmore’s voice barely broke through before she realized they were coming toward her. Kathryn stood, determined not to fear detection, and curtsied with a lowered head as he bowed to her in turn. She seemed to hear their voices from very far away.

“My lord, Miss Montgomery is Charity’s companion. We are so fortunate to have her to teach Charity the ways of the ton. We would not want it said our girl did not have proper manners.”

“Miss Montgomery, I am happy to make your acquaintance. I can see that though these little ones are not in your charge, they clearly show their devotion to you. Miss Charity must share you, it seems.” How had he guessed that? Ah, that intuitiveness—he always knew what she needed before she knew herself.

His smile disarmed her, and the dimples alone caused her heart to race. “Thank you, my lord,” she said.

She was surprised that he remained by her side.

“Have you been in London recently, Miss Montgomery? I admit to only a short stay before coming here, but I do not recall seeing you there.”

Kathryn was not prepared for this discourse. She never thought to have conversation with him so soon, if at all. She had no time to put on the mantle of servitude she had contemplated when she knew he was coming. “No, my lord, I have not been to London for many years, thank you for asking.”

“I do not know the precise time you were there, but I, too, have been away from it for some time, and I do not find it changed in the least.”

Should she betray what she knew? “Of course. I believe Sir John mentioned that you had been in the army.”

“That is true. However, in addition I have been the past four years learning to run our family estate. My brother was killed in a hunting accident, and I had to sell out and return home.” She could tell the hurt was still raw, and she wanted to comfort him. He quickly smiled. “Perhaps we met in London many years ago?”

“I do not believe so, my lord.” She looked at him, knowing her spectacles hid the mischief in her eyes. “My Season was cut short, but perhaps you have guessed that I did not...take?”

She slowly smiled, letting him know the joke was on her, but he surprised her with his own grin, dimples becoming quite evident. “Ah, then you were the one! Every other debutante I met while in London had more hair than wit! I seem to remember hearing of the woman with such a gift for conversation that she was a must at every gathering.”

She could not help herself, and laughed outright. He had been so charming to everyone he met, she still could not be completely sure he was not being the perfect gentleman, but she surmised he was laughing with her in return. For one instant her heart was lighter than it had been in years, but it grew heavy again as she remembered what she had lost. The thought of it made her smile disappear.

“Forgive me, Miss Montgomery, I have let my sense of the ridiculous get the better of me. I thought...”

“No, no, my lord. You said nothing amiss. I have only remembered something that I...”

“Kate! What can you be about?” Charity’s patience had run out. Oh, dear, what was she doing? She moved aside as Charity put her hand on Lord Dalton’s arm. “You must wonder at us, my lord,” she spoke in a conspiratorial voice. “I have never sanctioned having Kate present at tea, and now Mama will have to agree with me. I apologize for her lapse in judgment in monopolizing the conversation.”

“I quite disagree, Miss Charity. Miss Montgomery and I were just exchanging pleasantries. I believe you must be well satisfied in your mother’s choice of companion for you.”

No, Lord Dalton had not changed. Kathryn knew she must leave his presence. “Lady Dinsmore, shall I take the children to the nursery so you may visit with your guest?”

“Yes, yes, do let them go.” She heard Charity sigh as she left. “I am sure you must wonder at us, my lord, but Mother will have them to tea with the adults.”

Kathryn heard the low timbre of Lord Dalton’s voice descry her annoyance. He told her he had been charmed and had several nieces and nephews he enjoyed very much when he visited his sister at Michaelmas. She was once again pleased that he did not hide his joy for children, as many men would have. Indeed, she was too pleased with everything about him!

Would she be able to keep her countenance when around him? Her heart had betrayed her the night before, and she felt it again in the drawing room only moments ago. She knew it would be a tough battle to overcome her renewed feelings, but it was one she must win. To use his vernacular, she would need the entire arsenal to make it happen.

Chapter Three

Kathryn felt the need for air. Charity was no doubt resting before getting dressed for the evening, so she took a walk down to the lake the children loved so much.

She needed to gain her composure.

After the debacle in Scotland, Kathryn had run to the only person left in her life she could trust. Dear Miss Mattingly! Her old governess folded her in her arms and let her cry for all she had lost. She alone had offered comfort and forgiveness to a vulnerable young woman. Matty had taught her to be the open and honest woman she had grown to be. Dear Miss Matty had been a living Bible to Kathryn; she lived it every day of her life, and Kathryn believed it by watching her.

Matty wanted her to go back to her father, but Kathryn could not. He had made it plain that she was no longer part of his life.

After years of Kathryn being at the mercy of jealous wives and gentlemen who thought she was fair game, Matty had created the mask that made Kathryn feel safe enough to go on with her life. Matty believed God had helped them make a plan out of dire need, so she felt thankful, not guilty.

Now, sitting on the bench overlooking the lake, she bent to rub her ankles where her odd shoes rubbed against them. She was thankful that they had finally been broken in enough to prevent the blisters and pinching they had caused at first.

Matty had warned her that her natural poise could be her undoing. So she had found the most cumbersome and unwieldy pair of shoes imaginable. They not only made her poor feet very sore, they gave her a perfectly awkward gait and an age-defying shuffle.

Matty had then insisted on her spectacles. The blue tint hid the eyes that had inspired insipid poetry and gawking stares since she was sixteen years old. Matty said her eyes could ruin her facade in seconds. So they decided that covering them was paramount. She was aware that she could easily knock her spectacles askew or accidentally drop them, destroying all of the anonymity she worked so hard to achieve. But they determined if the shade were similar to the actual blue of her eyes, it allowed her to plant the slightest doubt in the mind of anyone who might witness such a mishap. She would prefer not having to wear the offending articles at all, but they served their purpose.

Kathryn’s final attempt at becoming a nonentity involved her hair. She could not cut it off. She knew it was her one act of defiance against the consequences of her situation and, therefore, had kept it, determined to find some other way to disguise it.

That was when Matty had the idea for her horrid brown wig. It was long and quite poorly made, but when she put it on her head and attached it tightly to her own hair, she was able to pull it all into a chignon that anchored it at her nape.

With that, her disguise was complete.

Now Lord Dalton was here, and the first meeting was over. He was so much the same and so much changed that he was able to surprise her out of countenance. But she was better prepared now and would no doubt see little of him during the remainder of his stay.

Therefore, it was quite a shock when she passed by the stables on her way back to the house and ran into him coming toward her.

“Miss Montgomery, this is a pleasant surprise.” He bowed then smiled.

“My lord!” she said, and curtsied. So much for only seeing him at tea! “Charity had no need of me, so I took a walk down to the lake.”

“I thought to get my first look at some of the horses, but could not locate Sir John.”

“I will be happy to send a servant to bring him to you.” She curtsied again and turned to go. His hand stayed her, and she looked up at him in surprise.

He laughed, and her brow furrowed in question, though it did not stop her from admiring his brown eyes. “You are too efficient, ma’am! I do not wish to disturb him, and I can easily look them over without him.” He surprised her again. “Will you join me?”

“You are too kind, my lord, but I will leave you to your inspections.”

“On the contrary, I would appreciate the company, and you know your way around better than I.” She started to speak again, and he cut her off with mischief in his eyes. “You did say Miss Charity had no need of you.”

She finally laughed as he intended. “You are quite persuasive, sir.”

“And ‘you cannot refuse a request from a guest’ is all that is needed to make me feel a complete cad!”

She did not realize how she had forgotten his wonderful banter. “Oh, no, I am not paid to entertain the guests!” He looked at her askance, and when she smiled, they both burst out laughing. Drat the man! How could he turn her back into a seventeen-year-old so easily? She must watch her step.

“I pronounce the penalty for your levity—you must accompany me with no more excuses.”

She began to lead the way. “Of course, my lord. I did not mean for you to think I did not wish to accompany you.”

“Splendid. I saw a beautiful chestnut down a few stalls when Merlin was taken in. I believe it is along the row to the right.”

“Merlin? What an excellent name for a horse. Is he a magician, then?”

“Absolutely, Miss Montgomery. He is fearless, as well. He carried me through many a battle I might not have survived without him. He is a great goer.”

“What an important thing about war I have just learned.” She was quite serious. “I think, as females, we are believed to need shielding from actual details of battle. I wish it were not so.” She came back to the present. “Of course, your mount would become your partner of sorts.”

“You are quite right, Miss Montgomery. Are you a rider yourself?”

Kathryn was thrust back in time, when her father taught her to ride astride in breeches, her hair tied back with only a ribbon. “I used to, my lord, but it has been many years now. I had such a wonderful horse. We grew to trust each other implicitly.”

“I do believe you actually understand. I have never heard it described quite like that, but that is exactly the word—trust.”

What in the world was she doing? How would a lowly companion know such things? Thank goodness she had not told him her horse’s name. With her luck he would have remembered it!

“Is this the chestnut you mentioned?”

“Yes, it is. She’s a beauty, in truth.” He went to the horse’s head to rub her jaw. The horse let Lord Dalton know she did not appreciate him taking liberties with her by pawing the ground and shaking her magnificent head. He slowly reached into his pocket and drew out a palm full of sugar cubes. He put them near enough for her to smell. She danced around the stall and blew great breaths out of her nose, her way of informing him she was not so easily bought, but while he never moved his hand, she slowly drew in closer. As she took the treats from him, she let him slide his hands down her neck and under her mane.

Kathryn began to laugh. He looked at her, as if believing she would soon share with him what was so amusing. “I am sorry, my lord,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “She is called Jezebel because she wants to control the men who come around her. Sir John will be devastated to know his Jezebel can be bought by a handsome man bearing sugar cubes!”

He laughed outright. “I get the feeling it is you and not Sir John who would love to see me bested by this beauty. Make no mistake, she will definitely be given the opportunity to try.”

“I shall be sorry to miss it! I am afraid I must go, my lord. No doubt Charity will soon be looking for me.” She was surprised when he once again stroked the horse and then turned to walk back with her.

“I have noticed that Miss Charity does not seem to get on with the younger children. Is it the age difference between them?”

Kathryn would have loved to warn him that Charity does not “get on with” anyone, but she would not so malign anyone in this family. “The age difference is quite a barrier, to be sure. I wish it were not so, because Lacey is at the age where she needs someone older to emulate, but I do not think it will be Charity at this phase in Charity’s life.”

“It appears to me that Lacey wishes to emulate you.”

“Me!” She laughed at him. “She needs to be loved, and that she gets from me, but I am not the role model for her, either.”

“I think you underestimate your relationship, but you know better than I. It is clear she seeks your approval, and you give it quite freely. A perfect companion.”

She laughed at him again. “And therein lies the rub. I am not Lacey’s companion!”

She had enjoyed herself immensely, but she must not get too close. She would never doubt his intense study of others or his well-honed instincts. She turned the conversation back to him. “My lord, I was very sorry to hear about the death of your brother.” He turned to her and stopped walking, looking at her oddly. She stopped, as well. “You mentioned it at tea as the reason you had to leave the army.” He relaxed, and she realized he wondered how she had known that. She had read it in the newspaper, but she never would have mentioned it had he not done so already. She definitely needed to heed her instincts and stay away from him and his personal life. “I can only imagine that the loss, along with having to completely uproot your life, must have been a great burden.” No, she did not need to imagine; she understood it all too well.

“I thank you, Miss Montgomery. It certainly changed my life, but I am...content for the moment. My mother is at home, and I am glad to be with her. She is a blessing to me in many ways, but especially in dealing with our tenants. She was adamant that she could take care of things and that I should go to London.”

“She sounds like the perfect mother!” Kathryn had loved to listen to him talk about her when they were together so many years ago. “You did not wish to go?”

He hesitated. “I confess I am much happier in the country. But she wished me to...enjoy myself after the years of learning to manage the estate.” Kathryn knew that is not what he meant to say, but they had reached the house and she thought it was a good time to distance herself from him.

“Good afternoon, my lord. I hope you enjoy your stay here.”

“Thank you, Miss Montgomery. I believe I will.”

* * *

Dalton liked her. He thought he would when they had conversed at tea. And he had been right. She was serene, but her sense of the ridiculous seemed always hovering, very near the surface in her conversation. She was easy to talk to and quick to laugh. And how her appearance changed when she did! He wondered at thinking her stodgy and middle-aged upon first seeing her in the window embrasure!

He had waited patiently to be presented to the woman with her hair so severe and who so obviously occupied the position, he now knew, of companion to the spoiled daughter. They had shared a few moments of banter, and he determined he might wish to spend as much time with her over the next two weeks as with any other member of the Dinsmore family. In fact, there were two things that greatly piqued his interest in the woman.

First, her odd spectacles. They were tinted, not that unusual, but they were of a dark blue shade and kept her eyes completely hidden. Perhaps she had some malady in which light or any brightness caused her pain. He had heard of such. But he was an excellent judge of character, and that came from reading others’ eyes. He thought it might be interesting to learn more of her difficulty, though she had a well-honed sense of humor. He had a well-developed need to discern the characters of the people around him. It became a small challenge to talk to her in the dim light of the evening when she would, he hoped, not need to wear the offending glasses.

But even without seeing her eyes, he was quick to notice the two children turn to share their surprise and joy with Miss Montgomery, not their sister, not even their mother! After Lady Dinsmore introduced him and before she gathered the children, he determined that he would know her better. In his experience, the trust of a child went a long way in showing a caring character. She appeared to be the one person in the house who had shown genuine, honest emotion.

He could not put his finger on it, but there was also some mystery there. He doubted he would get the time to figure it out within the fortnight, but that she was obviously a lady fallen on hard times was the least of it.

His intent had been to get Merlin and go back to Midhurst. He thought he could spend the afternoon in search of information about the woman he met on the bridge the night before. He was not disappointed, however, by spending the time with Miss Montgomery.

Had it been Miss Charity he stumbled upon, he would have been frustrated indeed! The chit seemed intent on flirting with him and leaning on his arm since he arrived. She was beautiful; there was no denying that. But beauty without intelligence and kindness could not keep his interest. Only look at how he preferred Miss Montgomery.

He supposed the girl would do well enough when she came out; she probably had a respectable dowry attached to her person, but she had been positively brazen with him and she could be no more than seventeen. Normally, he would steer clear of such a child, but staying here put them in close quarters. Worse, still, was that her parents did nothing to stop her forwardness. He was beginning to believe Miss Montgomery could be his only ally in the house. Miss Montgomery and Jezebel, that is!

* * *

To Kathryn, the rest of the day passed slowly, she knew why. It was because she was to meet Lord Dalton again tonight on the bridge. One minute she was excited at the thought of spending time with him alone; the next, she berated herself for taking such chances, risking exposure. She told herself she would not agree to go again. This had been a mistake, and she seemed prone to them. But she would keep her promise to meet him this night, and then the cloaked woman would disappear.

She ate little dinner; she was too nervous. She did every possible thing wrong while helping Charity retire for the night. “He did not come to the drawing room after dinner! I am so vexed. How am I supposed to make him fall in love with me if I am never to see him?”

“Charity, he was probably tired after his trip.” What a bouncer! He had been in Midhurst since the previous night. “You must prepare yourself. He is here to buy horses, and that will be his primary purpose each day. Everyone other than your father will have to play second fiddle to the horses.”

“Pshaw!” she said, asking Kathryn to stop brushing her hair with such force. “I will make him so besotted with me that horses will fall to the wayside. You see if I don’t.”

“I wish you the best of luck.”

“You know, Kate, you can be fired. You may have Mother bamboozled with your talk of London. But I have Papa in my pocket. I would watch your step if you wish to remain here.”

She finally went to bed and Kathryn went to her room, dressed in one of her oldest walking dresses, and waited, sitting on her bed until the house was quiet.

The grandfather clock struck eleven-thirty.

She went out of the back of the house. Heaven forbid they should run into each other leaving the manor!

When she arrived, he was already waiting, but not on the bridge. He was with Merlin, leaning up against a tree, cheroot in hand.

He had not yet seen her, and she began to have second thoughts. What was she doing? Last night and today she had concluded there was no harm in this midnight madness. Suddenly, she wondered what good could come of it. One night of reliving the past was not enough reason to risk her life here in Trotton. And meeting with a man clandestinely was still wrong, though she was already ruined.

Had she learned nothing in nine years?

“Will you not come the rest of the way?” His voice startled her. Did he know she was there all along?

She stepped out of the shadows and walked up to Merlin. “May I touch him, my...Mr. Dalton?”

“I do not think he will let you, ma’am. Once trained for the army, they know not to let the enemy steal them away. But they have no idea who the enemy is, so they must learn only to trust their masters.”

Even as he finished the last, Merlin turned his nose to her shoulder, almost knocking her down. Lord Dalton was at her side in an instant.

“I am fine, sir. I do not think he meant me harm. He just caught me off guard.” To prove her point, she began to whisper softly to him, remembering not to use his name yet. Though she had learned that name in the afternoon as Miss Montgomery. He would have caught that lapse in a moment.

She put one hand on his neck, rubbing the taut muscles under his mane. She placed the other on his nose.

“How wonderful it is to be made a fool of by your own horse. But I am impressed, fairy. Perhaps you are kindred spirits. Merlin senses you are not of this world.”

“Ah, Merlin,” she cooed to the horse. “I knew there was something magical about you.” He used his front hoof to paw the ground. She laughed, and it felt good. Too good.

“May we go to the bridge, sir? I am not comfortable here in the shadows.”

He dropped his cigar, stepping on it as he followed her. “I got the impression you were not comfortable at all.”

“Not uncomfortable, only aware that this was not a good idea.” She held on to her hood at the breeze blowing across the river. “I realized what you must think of me and was going to leave.”

“I think you are a lonely woman who enjoyed my company. Not lonely, perhaps, more sad.”

“A mind reader! Do you tell fortunes, as well?”

“It did not take a mind reader to see that you were troubled last night. You paced, then calmed, then paced again. And yes, I do tell fortunes. I predict that your sadness will change when you meet a stranger on a bridge.”

She laughed spontaneously.

“You see?”

“I have not so much as a ha’penny with which to pay you.”

“Very well. In recompense, you must tell me your name.”

“Did we not chase that rabbit last night?”

“Yes, but I did not catch it.”

“You, Mr. Dalton, are very tenacious. But I cannot give it to you. I am sorry.” She noticed he never corrected her when she called him mister. She wondered why. Surely a woman who would agree to such a meeting would be more forthcoming to an earl.

“And am I not to see your face?”

“No, sir.”

“May I ask why?”

“I think not, it is a very long story,” she said. “No doubt you will think me married and having a flirtation behind my husband’s back?”

“It is one of many reasons why it could be so, but I did not think it of you.”

“I must go. I am sorry to have agreed to this, but it is very wrong.” She pulled her cape closer around her and began to move away.

“I only wish to talk.” His voice was quiet. “You see, I am a little sad myself today.”

Her sympathetic heart heard his, and she did not know what to do. Oh, how she had loved him. Would that she could take him in her arms and comfort him. Instead, she decided she would make him laugh.

“You know, I am not really a fairy. The truth is...I have never told anyone this, but I am in fact the troll that lives under the bridge.”

His head came around slowly, unprepared for what she was saying.

“Shh! You see, a wicked ogre placed a spell on me and I can only be myself when the moon is full. In the dark and during the day, I am doomed to scare little children.” She looked both ways then whispered, “Do you think Merlin has a spell to release me?”

Merlin’s master let out a laugh that was music to her ears.

“How unfeeling! I think I would rather talk to him, anyway.” She turned her nose up, though still buried in the cloak, and began to walk past him.

“No, no,” he said, laughter in his voice. “You must have human company on this moonlit night.”

“Well, that is what I thought, but you laughed at my secret!”

“So sorry,” he mumbled.

They were both comfortable to be quiet for a moment and enjoy the night.

“Do trolls get married?”

She choked, remembering he, too, had a sense of humor.

“Oh, dear, I do not know! I am sure one has never been asked, though.” She leaned back against the bridge. “I suppose it would only be wise to drop by during the day to visit the troll half. When I am the troll, I am not this charming.”

“Or I could come on a moonless night.”

“Yes, I suppose you could do that, but you would not get a good look at me then, and that really would be important to know before asking me to marry you.”

“Oh, did you think I meant you? I am so sorry. There is a troll I’ve had my eye on in Rye! I have been too shy to ask. Please forgive me.”

At that, they both laughed, and it echoed through the trees and across the water. As they wiped the tears streaming down their faces, he turned serious. “Will you please tell me who you are so I may call on you?”

She was ready for the quick change in subject.

“I am sorry, sir. I cannot. The reasons are too complicated to overcome, and I only came tonight because I could not bear to think of you waiting here.” She put her hand on his face. “This is goodbye, Mr. Dalton. But thank you for curing my sadness. Thank you for everything.”

With that, she ran off again and he did not follow her.

Chapter Four

“But I cannot, Lady Dinsmore!” Kathryn exclaimed, horrified. “It would be most unseemly!”

“Mother, I absolutely refuse to consider it. Why, I should be mortified!”

“Charity, you will hold your tongue. This is between Miss Montgomery and me.”

The three ladies were in the sewing room, and Lady Dinsmore had become quite adamant. “Kate, last night’s dinner was a disaster. Sir John and the rector said only ten words between them, and Charity,” she said, giving the girl an evil glance, “did nothing but throw herself at Lord Dalton. He showed himself quite at ease with you during tea yesterday. I believe he will enjoy his meals more could he share them with someone who had London in common. Besides, it will solve the problem of uneven numbers, as well. I meant to mention the matter to you last week when I invited Mr. Wimpole to dinner during Lord Dalton’s stay, but I confess it quite slipped my mind.”

“I can assure you, my lady,” Kathryn argued in an agitated manner, “Lord Dalton will be much more shocked to find himself seated at the table with a companion than he would be to see uneven numbers!”

“Oh, Mama, it does not bear thinking on. You always say we must defer to Kate’s opinion regarding the activities of the ton. He will consider us...rustics!” The last was said with such horror that Kathryn could barely stop herself from laughing.

Lady Dinsmore had not expected such a to-do, and she began to be vexed. “Miss Montgomery, I am perfectly aware how to run my household despite your considerable knowledge of Society’s dictates.”

Kathryn had the grace to blush. “My lady, I certainly never meant...”

“Of course you did not, my dear. I know in London it might seem a little out of the ordinary, but we are not in London. And you know I quite consider you part of the family.”

“Lady Dinsmore, please, I should be most uncomfortable. You can use the country as an excuse for the odd count or the informality. Pray, do not ask me to socialize with your guests.”

The good lady sat rigid and quiet for a moment. “Well, I certainly never thought to hear you refuse a request for help, Kate. I was obviously quite mistaken in you.”

Kathryn knew she was being manipulated, just as she knew the entire house was being manipulated in order to make Charity shine. But she was torn between what she owed Lady Dinsmore and her mixed emotions about Lord Dalton.

And that was the crux of the matter. Kathryn knew if it were anyone else in the world, she would not have been so adamant in her refusals. She must not let him have so much power over her, especially after last night. It would be too easy to fall in love with him again. He had changed only for the better, so how could she not?

* * *

“Oh, Lord Dalton, I have ever so many friends I should like you to meet.” The child had not stopped talking since they sat down. Dinner the previous night had been interminable. The gentlemen said little, and Lady Dinsmore obviously had no control over her forward daughter. Miss Montgomery was not even in attendance.

He determined to find some excuse from dinner during most of his stay, but knew he could not do so after the dismal experience of last night. His hostess was astute enough to know why.

He was brought back to the present as Charity droned on. “Of course, they are not as fashionable as you and I are, but they enjoy my company.” Why did Lady Dinsmore not stop her daughter from touching his arm and shoulder each time she made a comment?

The doors to the dining room opened, and Dalton was never so happy to see anyone as he was to see Miss Montgomery shuffling into the dining room. Another entire dinner with the vain, loquacious daughter of the house would make him wish to impale himself with his fork! The companion quietly apologized for not joining them in the drawing room before dinner, and slowly lowered herself into the vacant chair diagonal to him.

When Dalton stood upon the entrance of Miss Montgomery, he knew they could not have such discourse as they had enjoyed yesterday in the stables, but he certainly hoped for a rational conversationalist unlike the singularly quiet males and the inane females he presently enjoyed. If Miss Montgomery failed him, he would make up his first excuse for tomorrow evening.

He noticed the dignified lady’s blush as he stood. Sir John remained occupied with his plate, completely ignoring a gentleman’s duty, while the rector’s attention was so focused on food, he apparently did not even hear her enter. Intuitively, though, he knew she was embarrassed at his gesture, not their lack of one.

She waved him to his seat with a quick hand. Interrupted from his turbot, Sir John responded with surprise to Miss Montgomery’s presence. “Ah, joining us for dinner, are you? Excellent, excellent.”

Did she not normally dine with the family? He gave Lady Dinsmore more credit than he had previously accorded her. She knew exactly what he felt last night, and she knew exactly how to remedy it. He should have guessed that Charity’s companion did not dine with the family despite being in attendance at tea. He wondered if the beauty beside him was not a little petulant because of it.

“I am sure Mama would have accepted your excuses were she aware that your schedule did not fit in with ours,” she said, the sarcasm dripping from her lips.

At such a small and intimate gathering, Dalton’s one solace was being allowed to converse with the entire group rather than confined in the normal way to only those on his immediate left and right. “Miss Charity,” he chided, trying to dampen her pretension yet preserve his manners, “I beg of you, do not make Miss Montgomery more uncomfortable than she no doubt already is. I daresay she was caught up with something of importance and there was no intent on her part to slight us.” He smiled most charmingly.

He received a smile of thanks from the plainly dressed woman, and he regretted that she did indeed wear her spectacles at night. When she smiled, he noticed her even white teeth and rather high cheekbones. But he had a feeling that her eyes spoke more thanks than her expression. And he knew an earnest desire to please her. It was quite odd! Who would have anticipated he would experience the mystery of two completely different women when he accepted this invitation?

Lady Dinsmore chimed in as she was wont to do after the spoiled belle put her dainty slipper in her mouth. He did not envy her parents having to fire off the girl beside him. Why, she was as volatile as Prinny himself!

“Charity, Miss Montgomery did mention she would be a few minutes late this evening.” Lady Dinsmore smiled at him. “Apparently, Jacob is planning a surprise for your lordship.”

“Perhaps we should ask Miss Montgomery to tell us of young Jacob’s surprise.” Kathryn raised her head from her plate but directed her comments to the entire assembly. “Indeed, my lord,” she answered in a quiet voice. “You can have little opinion of me if you think I should spoil his surprise in such a way.” She finally turned her face to him, but her eyes remained hidden. “Since this afternoon, Jacob has spoken of nothing but the hope of a visit to the nursery where he may show you the surprise himself.”

Dalton did not know why, but her answer pleased him immensely. An attention seeker would have taken full advantage of the opportunity he had thrust her way to dominate the conversation and bring complete notice upon her. But Miss Montgomery was made of sterner stuff, it seemed. She had no desire to spoil the delight of a child. Indeed, her answer pleased him beyond measure.

When the gentlemen decided they would forgo their brandy and cigars to join the ladies in the drawing room, he was looking forward to finding a chair as close to the engaging companion as he could. He did not make that observation lightly; after years on the Continent, he was an excellent judge of character, and he knew he had found a kindred spirit despite not being able to read her eyes.

He saw that Miss Charity seated herself on a love seat near the fire, and her look beckoned him to the spot beside her. He pretended not to notice.

He turned and saw Miss Montgomery standing in the farthest corner of the room. It would have put her quite beyond the pale had he joined her there. Dalton knew it was where she wished to be, and knowing he was being completely selfish, he said, “Miss Montgomery, perhaps you would like this chair a little closer to the fire. I see it remains quite empty.”

He saw her turn to him in complete surprise. It was not in the corner of the room, but it was not in the center, either. He thought they could agreeably converse without appearing secluded. She approached the chair, appearing somewhat wary of him.

“I promise I shall not eat you, Miss Montgomery,” he said, hoping to interject some levity.

“My lord, I did not mean to appear ungrateful!”

“You did not. There is something I particularly wished to ask you. I hope you will not think me forward.”

Seating herself, she replied, “I cannot imagine what might interest you that one of the others might answer just as easily.”

Was she in fear of retribution from her charge? He would not allow it. He would talk to whomever he pleased, and he would give the chit the set down she deserved if necessary.

“There are many things, I assure you.” He stood a little apart from her chair, making sure there were no codes of conduct broken for a drawing room discourse. “I wondered about your eyes.” She did not look at him, but pushed the spectacles against the bridge of her nose anxiously. “I do not mean to pry. I assumed it to be a condition involving light, but as you are wearing them this evening, I see that cannot be the reason. May I ask if it is something more serious?”

She stuttered for a moment; he had taken her quite off guard. “I...I... No, it has nothing to do with the intensity of light, my lord. My spectacles are for quite another purpose, not one I should like to go into at present. You may suffice it to say that they are the bane of my existence!” She did smile at that, so her refusal did not come with any malice or indication she was not pleased with him.

Indeed, he continued quite comfortably. “Then may I change subjects and ask you if the Dinsmores attend church on Sundays? I was pleasantly surprised to find the rector joining us for dinner, though he was not apt to speak overmuch.”

“The family does not attend church on any regular basis, I am afraid. But it is not far from here, and I can easily give you its direction.”

He smiled. “Does the good parson have more to say from his pulpit than he had at dinner?” He did not wish to appear to be belittling the gentleman so added, “Perhaps he was in a thoughtful state of mind tonight?”

“No, no, my lord, he is quite reserved at all times.” She kept her eyes forward, but he could see a small smile. She had not mistaken his first question. “If you wish for a good fire-and-brimstone sermon, I am afraid you are doomed to disappointment.”

He laughed. “I would prefer something a little more in the middle, but I will let God handle what He feels I need to hear.” Somehow the next question was one he knew he wanted the answer to, but he did not realize it until this moment. “Do you attend services, ma’am?”

She sighed. “I am sorry to disappoint you on this front, as well. I believe God has quite given up on me, my lord. I have not done so for many years.” It was as if she knew he would ask more, so she turned the subject. “I presume you have attended St. George’s in London? I never got the chance, rather, I did not get the opportunity to view the church from the inside.”

“It is quite beautiful, to be sure. But there are times when I feel like the ones preaching there are a little prideful of their pulpit and make themselves of more consequence than their message.”

He waited for some comment from her, but none came. It appeared she did not wish to discuss God, though she had alluded to a time when she did.

“I did not visit many places, but I believe Richmond Park was—”

Charity interrupted rudely. “My lord, shall I play the pianoforte for you? You may turn the pages for me, if you would be so kind.”

He’d had more than enough of this spoiled child and her impoliteness, especially as it was more often than not aimed at her companion. He bristled and said, “Miss Charity, I am presently—”

This time it was Miss Montgomery who interrupted him. “Charity, I am sure that will make Lord Dalton feel quite like he is in a fashionable drawing room in London.” She turned to him. “You must excuse me, my lord. I have a few things I promised to prepare for the children in the morning. I will say good-night.”

She rose and bowed her head to him, then walked to the middle of the room and curtsied while she spoke small words of “excuse me” and “sleep well.” She even asked Charity if there was anything else she could do for her that evening. Dalton watched her leave the room, certain now that she had not wished to upset her spoiled charge.

He found himself getting angry. All at once he realized that perhaps that was the lot of a companion. He had met many each Season, but he had thought no more about them once the introductions had been made. Miss Montgomery was a lady. She had a past of some sort among the ton; she had told him so herself. To be relegated to such a position must be most degrading.

Worse yet, the only reason he noticed her was because he appreciated her conversation and preferred her to any other person in this household. God pricked his heart. He should treat everyone equally no matter their position in life, yet he had excluded an entire middle class, neither servant nor member of the peerage. He would change that, beginning now.

His thoughts were interrupted again by the beauty clearing her throat.

“I would be delighted to turn the pages for you,” he replied, with gritted teeth. Even this chit must be treated equally, he supposed. Only she surprised him and stopped playing. “Oh, my lord, this is too boring. I wish to give you some exciting news.”

“Charity?” her mother said, dragging out her name in question.

“Mama, I have thought of the very thing! We must throw a ball while Lord Dalton is here!”

“A ball?” cried Lady Dinsmore and Lord Dalton at precisely the same time.

“Perhaps not a ball per se, but we could have a party where we may introduce his lordship to our neighbors. And we may have music and dance the night away.” She ended this by twirling around with eyes closed like a child.

“Lady Dinsmore, I protest. I would never put you to so much trouble on my behalf. I specifically told Sir John I would not wish any such attention.”

“Sir John and I did speak of having a small dinner party while you were here, and should the children wish to roll back the rugs for a few dances, I should not object. We shall discuss it further when Sir John is free. And you cause us no trouble, whatsoever. Miss Montgomery has always been a big help to me in such areas. I quite look on her for all guidance when it comes to matters of Society.”

He was forced to allow the subject to drop, but he decided he would quit this room as soon as possible. He had feigned tiredness from a full day of riding, so excused himself when the tea tray arrived.

So here he was, alone in his room at the unseemly hour of ten o’clock. His Bible lay open on his lap. Lord, I only want to be free of this place. Perhaps You have brought me here for some purpose? Give me Your peace and grace to stay when impatience begs me to flee. And Lord, help me to focus on You and Your will as I face so many distractions.

He was distracted indeed. He could not stop thinking about the woman on the bridge last night. She caused so many emotions in his breast.

She was amazing! Her voice was rich and calming. Her bearing was regal; she was a lady, of that he was certain. He knew it was odd of him, considering it was he who asked her to come, but he was concerned about her visiting the bridge alone so late at night. What if he had taken her second visit as an invitation to something more? She was defenseless.

He was very attracted to her, and he was happy that he could in no way attribute that to her physical appearance. He used to tell himself often that even had Lady Kathryn not been so beautiful, he would still have been drawn to her. But because she was so beautiful, he really never knew that for certain.

But this fairy could be hideous—which would explain the hood—and he would still be attracted to her. She made him laugh. That had become very important to him. Even the most beautiful woman’s features would one day fade. He needed so much more in common with someone.

Only look at his preference for Miss Montgomery. When unencumbered by her charge, she was delightful. And even when the chit was near, he believed Miss Montgomery sensed his feelings easily and shared them, if only with a simple smile.

He had not chased after the woman last night. He did not want to snatch midnight meetings with her. He wanted to find her, get to know her. Sight unseen, she was too special to let go.

* * *

As Kathryn laid down her brush and donned her cotton night rail, she supposed she would just have to be herself—herself in a foolish wig, shoes and spectacles—and wait for the fortnight to end. She had no delusions, even after such short acquaintance; there would be no marriage between Lord Dalton and Charity. It was also clear he was already trying to invent ways to shorten his stay at the manor and decrease the amount of time he must politely spend with its inhabitants. Perhaps she would be lucky, and he would abort his stay and return to London. Yet a pang touched her heart at the thought.

Her life had changed so that his presence should be of absolutely no importance to her. And now, despite her sheer weariness of an hour ago, she was wide-awake, staring at the ceiling. She could not go downstairs for a book; she had only just left the drawing room complaining she could not keep her eyes open.

Suddenly she perked up, and the wheels in her mind began to turn. Could she go to the bridge? It was not yet ten o’clock; the family would be ensconced in the drawing room at least another hour with their guest. The locals never used the bridge after dark, no matter what the time. Indeed, witches, gnomes and trolls were her friends!

Even as she questioned herself, she rooted through her drab dresses to find her rumpled walking dress of the previous night. By the time she finished hooking the buttons on the serviceable gown, she was resolved to get some fresh air.

She cherished her nighttime freedom, though she had never gone two nights in a row, much less three. Once a week was all she dared risk. But her pistol had given her courage, and once she knew the freedom, even rarely, she could not give it up.

Kathryn was not a fool. She did not dismiss the fact that Lord Dalton might also take a late-night walk to the bridge. She would not put it past him to assume she was a local wench who would also be on the lookout for him. But she felt secure in the knowledge that she would be back long before he retired for the night. Even should he claim fatigue after the drawing room and not join Sir John privately for brandy and billiards, she had at least an hour.

The thought cheered her as none had that day. She would allow herself this one extra hour of complete freedom before she subjected herself to the next fortnight of frustration and the knowledge that had she not allowed Lord Salford to whisk her away, she might even belong to Lord Dalton today.

Kathryn slipped her dark cloak over her shoulders, pulled the hood loosely up over her head and left her room. She looked both ways and took the hallway to the servant’s staircase to the kitchen, where she could slip out unnoticed.

* * *

His Bible was doing him little good this night. He could not concentrate on the words for all of the noise in his head.

He could not sit still any longer; he had to get out of this room. He would walk to the bridge again. He knew it was far too early to expect his late-night visitor, if indeed she intended to visit at all. That was not his purpose in going. He only wanted some air.

So he took up his position at last night’s tree, listening to the gurgling water and taking in deep breaths of the country breezes. He could not resume his search for his fairy, but if there was any chance of seeing her or finding out her identity, he would take it.

Dalton’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a scream, cut off hastily, on the other side of the bridge. As he pushed away from the solid trunk and stepped quietly onto the ancient structure, the sight that met his eyes stopped his heart.

Chapter Five

Dalton froze. It was her, the woman he had met last night, but in no way situated as he had imagined. There on the other end of the span, less than one hundred feet from him, she stood with her head held tightly against the bridge’s stone pillar with a hand covering her mouth. Dalton could only be thankful that the hood that covered her head might provide a small cushion as her attacker held her so tightly against the stones.

She was imprisoned by the weight of a man’s body, and her neck arched to avoid the knife pressed dangerously close to her skin. He could tangibly feel her terror.

He pulled up short, his heart no longer stopped, but beating very fast. Dear Lord, You are more than capable of protecting this woman, but if Your way of protecting her involves me, show me the way. He had hoped to surprise her attacker by stealth, but the woman saw him from under the folds of her hood. That single glance in his direction gave his presence away.

The man wielding the knife had complete control over the woman, but he turned his lecherous gaze to Lord Dalton. “Stay where ye are or I’ll slit ’er throat, don’t think I won’t. Even in the dark, it looks too purty to scar.”

The cur’s voice was raspy and common, and Dalton heard the girl’s slight whimpers as he pushed the point of his dagger just a little farther into her skin.

“Let her go,” Dalton said, his command in deadly earnest. Anyone who knew him would have followed those orders instantly. His opponent, however, though now more hesitant, did not know enough to recognize the menace in his words.

Instead, the assailant laughed and seemed to wedge his knee tighter against the woman’s fragile frame, effectively pinning her closer and, no doubt, making breathing even more difficult for her. “It don’t seem to me you be the one in the position to be hagglin’ now does it? Looks like this be my lucky night. I found me a purty wench with a rich cove to pay for ’er life!”

“There will be no bargaining. You will let her go or I will kill you.” Evil was evil, whether in wartime or not.

Dalton thought the woman would be in shock. She kept rolling her head from side to side, trying to get away from the grimy hand that covered her mouth. The attacker only pushed a little harder on his knife to make her stop each time.

“Mighty uppity you are when it’s me what ’as the knife.” Her attacker laughed. “Now jest toss me your purse,” the man continued, “then back off. Ye get on that ’orse of yours and ride away. Ye do all that and the ’arpy comes out of this with a whole skin.”

His voice held no fear, and Dalton knew this was the worst kind of enemy.

He was screaming so close to the woman that she jumped, feeling the knife as she did so. “Do what I say, now—’er life makes no never mind to me.” With that he actually punctured her skin with the tip of the blade and sniggered as blood trickled down her neck.

Her cry led him to comply. He removed his purse from his coat and tossed it to the center of the bridge. He could have thrown it as far as the man’s feet, but he wanted the cutthroat to come and get it.

The release of his coins seemed to lighten her attacker’s mood, if not his hold. “Sounds ’eavy enough. Might even be all I need for this night’s work and I can give meself a little reward. Ol’ Jack Dawkins might even let this wench live.” He became deadly serious once more. “Now pick up the brass and toss it all the way to me...don’t make me kill ’er.”

Dalton knew if he could keep the man distracted, there was more of a chance that he would slip up, giving him an opportunity get the woman away safely. If that did not happen, Dalton was more than prepared to face the man’s knife. But it must first be pointed at him instead of the fairy.

Suddenly the night burst into a flurry of sounds and movement that took all three participants by surprise.

She had been telling the truth! She was armed and, apparently, not afraid to use her weapon.

The flash of powder and the crack of the pistol sounded like thunder in the quiet night. But the scream of pain and the surprise of the counterattack allowed her to push against him with all her might. Dalton ran toward the man, ready to kill him if necessary, but he was stopped by the woman who ran straight into his arms.

He held her so tightly that his anger abated for a moment at the thought of her being safe and secure in his grasp, as if she belonged there.

But reality flooded back when Ol’ Jack began howling. “She shot me! The ’ussy shot me!” Her attacker lifted the arm he had been using to cover her mouth, and examined his wound. It was clear that the bullet had entered the man’s lower left side, and he was growling in pain.

Dalton could see the hole in the back of the man’s coat, however, and knew their troubles were not yet over; the bullet must have grazed his side before exiting the back of the man’s grimy jacket. There was no debilitating damage.

As pain and anger filled the eyes of the ruffian, Dalton knew they might as well be dealing with a wounded bear, and he determined nothing would prevent him from protecting the frightened woman in his arms. His military training took over, and he was a force to be reckoned with. He gripped her upper shoulders tightly, moving her quickly behind him.

“Your light-skirt ain’t done nothin’ but caused ’er own death and I don’t care if I ’ave to go through ten of you to get to ’er.” His voice was a slow growl, the sound of an injured animal. He tossed his knife back and forth between his hands then began to charge Dalton, thrusting his dagger, wildly intent on murder.

But Dalton was more than prepared, and with one swift kick to the wrist of the injured thatchgallow, the knife went flying far into the high river grasses on the other side of the bridge.

Ol’ Jack was stunned but not cowed. “No gentry cove is gettin’ the best o’ me,” he swore, but was stopped short by the punishing left Dalton landed in the center of his face. The blood gushing into his mouth finally seemed to turn the tide. While Dalton prepared for whatever response the cutthroat threw at him next, Jack Dawkins turned on his heels and dashed away, doing the one thing Dalton did not expect. And Dalton had not been granted near enough time with the villain to assuage his anger.

As he prepared to follow the man, he took a quick look over his shoulder and stopped dead in his tracks. The brave young woman so recently in his arms had quietly slid to the ground into a sitting position, her back against the stone wall of the bridge. Her head was down on her pulled-up knees, and she was shrouded in her cloak. He could see, even from where he stood, that she shivered uncontrollably in silence. He had witnessed many shattering experiences in battle, but his heart had never been touched so deeply by any sight.

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