From Rags to Kisses by Shana Galen

Fourteen

Jenny was not sleepy. Harley had fallen asleep almost as soon as she’d been put to bed. The child was clean, warm, dry, and fed. It was no surprise that she was fast asleep. Jenny hoped she felt safe enough to sleep soundly the entire night. For years after leaving the rookeries, Jenny had problems sleeping. Even though she had known she was finally safe, her mind had not accepted that fact right away.

But fear was not keeping her awake tonight. The nursery was cozy and her bed comfortable, but the rain pattered on the window and the fire crackled and cast shadows on the unfamiliar walls. And, of course, she couldn’t seem to stop her ears from straining to hear when Aidan returned. It seemed he had been gone for hours when the clock on the mantel had only chimed midnight a short while earlier.

She thought she heard the clip-clop of horse hooves on the road outside, and she sat, listening closely. The rain had kept all but the most dedicated revelers home this evening, and she’d not heard another carriage in a while. Below, she heard the murmur of voices and the sound of a door closing. Jenny’s heart beat faster. Aidan was home.

She forced herself to lie back down. It did not matter that he was home. He’d ruined her entire life. She had everything planned. She’d planned to marry Roland and take a lover and continue appraising antiquities. Now nothing would go as she’d expected. She was nothing if not adaptable, but it rankled that Aidan should make her adapt again. He’d turned her life upside down once before. How could she believe that though he proposed marriage, he wouldn’t just leave her again?

He said he loved her. Still. But anyone who spent a quarter hour with him knew his one true love was money. He surrounded himself with luxury and had had two or three of everything. He’d never have enough to truly feel secure.

She’dnever be enough to give him security.

She heard footsteps outside the door, and knew they were Aidan’s. He’d asked her to wait up for him. She could pretend to be asleep, postpone the conversation until the morning. But when the door opened, and Aidan’s silhouette was clear, she sat, put a finger to her lips and crept out of bed, wrapping her robe securely around the thick nightgown she’d been given. Jenny had never been able to resist him. She didn’t know why she thought she would have the strength now.

Once outside the bedchamber, Aidan drew her away from the door. “Is she sleeping?” he whispered. His dark hair was wet from the rain, and he’d slicked it back from his face, outlining the strong cheekbones and square jaw already dabbled with stubble. His dark eyes were especially dark tonight.

“She fell asleep as soon as ‘er ‘ead ‘it the pillow,” Jenny whispered back. “And no, I didn’t find out ‘er real name. I’ll need more than a few ‘ours for that.”

“Let’s speak somewhere in private,” Aidan said. “I have an idea for how to handle the betrothal.” He looked about. “Shall we go to the library?”

She was sick of that library and all the arguments they’d had there. “I don’t want to traipse about in my nightwear for all the footmen to gawk at.”

“My bedchamber then? It’s on the other side of the landing. We can use the sitting room.”

She remembered his chamber did have a grouping of chairs away from the bed. She imagined the idea had been to host close friends or family in an informal setting. Still, spending time in his bed chamber had its perils. The bed would be right there. Tempting her.

“Fine,” she said. “Let’s make this quick.”

Inside the bedchamber, Aidan lit several lamps and Jenny took a seat in a large armchair that all but swallowed her. She left the more ornamental one for Aidan. He went to a side table and offered her a glass of wine. She took it, hoping it would help her sleep.

“Ye aren’t ‘aving a glass?” she asked.

“Not right now. I spoke with a friend of mine, the Duke of Mayne.”

“Never ‘eard of ‘im.”

“He’s rich and a duke, which serves our purposes.” He explained the duke’s suggestion, and Jenny nodded.

“Smart fellow, this duke. Easiest to say something in front of the servants and start the news flowing that way. And we can mention it in front of Lady Juliana at the orphanage tomorrow.”

“And what reason will you give for calling off the wedding?”

“Let’s say ‘e went to join an excavation in Venice, and I didn’t want to postpone the wedding or live in Italy. That’s the sort of thing Society will believe.”

“It is, yes.” He’d rested a hand on the side table, and now his fingers traced the carvings in the wood absently. Jenny couldn’t seem to stop looking at those fingers and imagining him tracing her body. “Now that you’re a free woman—or will be soon—would you reconsider my proposal?”

She pulled her gaze away from his fingers. “I didn’t say no because of Roland.”

“You said no because you were angry.” His fingers stopped their movements, and he looked directly at her.

“I said no because I don’t want to marry ye.”

“Because I left you all those years ago?” He came toward her, and she wished she had chosen the ornamental chair. It would have made extricating herself easier now.

“Exactly. Ye left me once and will do it again. Money is wot ye love.” She gestured to the expansive chamber and all the luxuries.

He knelt before her, effectively blocking her escape. “You are what I love. These past few days, I came to realize that all of this means nothing without you.”

“It’ll come to mean plenty again if ye ‘ave me. Ye only want me because I said no. Ye ‘ate not getting wot ye want.”

“That’s true enough, but I will always want you, Jenny. I will never leave you again.” He took her hands in his. “I think you want me too. You’re just afraid.”

“I’m not afraid of the likes of ye.”

“No, but you’re afraid of love. You don’t trust it. You’re afraid to risk your heart.”

“Ye assume I ‘ave a ‘eart.”

He smiled, and oh that smile was her undoing. Such a crooked, smoldering smile. “You have a heart. Somewhere in there.” His hand brushed her chest, and she grasped it and held it for a moment before she moved it over her breast.

“This is lust between us. Nothing more.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” he said, fondling her breast until her nipple was hard and aching for his tongue.

“Ye talk too much,” she said, grasping the back of his neck and pulling his mouth to hers. She kissed him fiercely, possessively, tasting the rain on his lips and the wine he must have drunk at his club on his tongue. His arms came around her, circling her and pulling her out of the chair and into his arms. She always felt so safe in his arms, and she hated wanting that feeling. Needing that feeling.

And so she kissed him deeper, felt his breathing grow more rapid as her hands slid down his chest and to the bulge in his trousers. He groaned, and his mouth went to her neck, delicately nibbling on the skin there while his hands loosed her robe’s sash. The robe slid to the floor, and then his hands were cupping her buttocks through the thin muslin of the nightdress. He pulled her against his erection, and she was the one who moaned.

“Are you sure you want this?” he said, making sure she felt his hard length. “You want me?”

“One last time,” she panted. “I swear, this is the end of it.”

He chuckled against her ear, and she was too aroused to hit him for having the gall to doubt her. She’d hit him later. Right now, she wanted him naked and inside her. But he had other ideas. He lifted her in his arms, cradling her like she was a small child, and carried her to his bed.

He laid her down and came down over her, kissing her gently on the forehead, the eyes, the tip of her nose.

Tenderness. She didn’t want tenderness from him. She didn’t want this to mean anything. When he finally reached her lips, she bit him and raked her nails over his back. Even though she doubted he could feel much through his shirt and coat, he caught her hands and pushed them above her head, while he retaliated in kind, running his teeth down her exposed neck until he took the ribbon of the nightdress in his mouth and pulled it free. The garment was little more than a shift, the neck just an O held together by the ribbon, and once that was free, Aidan tugged the material down with his free hand.

She arched her back when his mouth closed over her breast, gasped when he took one nipple and then the other into his mouth, then gave a small cry of need when he lifted his head to look down at her. She opened her eyes and peered at him through a haze of burning need.

“I’ll never leave you.”

“Ye will,” she countered.

“I love you, Jenny,” he said without wavering.

She shook her head. She wanted none of this. “No, ye don’t. Ye just think ye do.”

“You think you’re so unloveable.” He kissed her lips quickly, avoiding her teeth. “But I love everything about you.”

“Stop talking and take yer clothes off.”

“I love how you’re bossy.” Instead of taking his clothes off, he pushed her shift down, baring more of her body to him. “I love your independence.” His hand trailed from the valley between her breasts down her belly. “I love your clever mind and your hard exterior.” He reached the triangle of dark hair between her legs. “You had to be hard to survive.”

She tried to ignore his words and focus on what he was doing with his fingers. Her body had started writhing under his ministrations.

“You don’t have to be hard with me, love. I know what’s underneath that tough exterior.”

“And wot’s that?” she challenged. “There’s nothing but iron.”

“Let’s see what happens when that iron heats.”

“No,” she said as he released her hands and moved between her legs, parting them so he could press his mouth there. She wanted to grasp his hair and yank his head away. Jenny needed him inside her, not making her senseless with his tongue. But she fisted her hands in his hair and allowed her weakness to get the better of her as he teased and sucked and flicked his tongue against her.

She held off as long as she could. She made him work, but he didn’t give up. He continued his torment until she couldn’t hold back, until the pleasure tore through her and she had to bite her lip to cut off a scream. “Aidan!” she cried. “Yes, yes, yes.”

He rose to his knees and tugged off his coat. “Is that a yes to marrying me?”

“No,” she said weakly, her body feeling as though it belonged to someone else. How did he make her feel like this? No one had ever made her feel like he could. His shirt came off, and her gaze focused, sliding down to the fall of his breeches, which he flicked open to reveal his hard cock. Jenny wet her lips.

He pushed off the bed, shrugged out of the rest of his clothes, then reached for the packet with the French letters. He extracted one, and while he tied it on, she murmured, “I thought you were determined to marry me.”

Instead of ignoring the slight, he moved back onto the bed, parted her legs, and paused with his cock at the entrance of her sex. Jenny was breathing hard now, fighting not to use her legs to urge him forward.

“I am determined to marry you, but I’m not so pathetic as to force a child on you to have my way.” His cock nudged her entrance. “You’ll marry me because you want to.” He entered her just a fraction, and she closed her eyes in pleasure.

“No, I won’t.”

He slid deeper. “You will. You just don’t want to admit you love me yet.”

She moaned as he pushed deeper into her and angled upward so her already sensitive center throbbed again with need. “Yes,” she murmured, pulling him closer, wanting to feel his skin against hers. “Stop talking and make me come again.”

He grasped her hands, locked his fingers with hers, and looked down at her as he moved inside her. She tried to look away, but his eyes kept pulling her gaze back. She saw lust in his eyes, definitely lust, but that wasn’t all. In this moment, as she climbed higher and higher, she wanted to believe what she saw was real. “Aidan?” she asked, suddenly afraid of what she was feeling, what might happen if she allowed herself to be vulnerable.

“I’m here, Jenny.”

Yes, he was. And she was so close. She didn’t even try to fight it, didn’t even try to make it last. She tipped over the edge, her hands closing tight on his as her body pressed closer and closer to his.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he said before groaning and thrusting hard as his own pleasure crested. His weight was a pleasant heaviness on top of her, and then he moved away briefly and came back, pulling the covers around them both. He gathered her close, and Jenny tried to pretend she didn’t want this, didn’t need it. But he was whispering that he loved her in her ear, telling her he would always love her, that he wanted her for his wife.

“That was the last time,” she said, still trying to catch her breath.

“That’s not even the last time tonight,” he promised, and she hated that a frisson of pleasure coursed through her at his rumbled words.

“I’m not marrying you,” she said defiantly.

“Not today,” he agreed. “But you will. You love me, Jenny.”

“I don’t,” she said, already feeling herself drifting off to sleep.

“Not even a little?” he murmured.

“No,” she mumbled.

“A very little?”

“Maybe a very little.”

She slept, vaguely aware of his arms around her and the ping of the rain on the roof. At some point, his lips teased behind her ear and his hands slid down between her legs and stroked her. She moaned and thought about rejecting him, but his fingers were making it hard to think, and he was whispering how hot and wet she was, and that was only making her want him more. But instead of turning her toward him, he rose to his knees and pulled her to hers, taking her from behind with a thrust that left her breathless. He hadn’t bothered with the French letter, and the feel of his skin stroking inside her, was almost more than she could bear. He took her hard and fast as she held on to the headboard and shamelessly gave herself up to his whims. He brought her to a sharp climax that left her practically sobbing as he withdrew and spent himself on a nearby piece of linen.

She collapsed on her belly, and the bed beside her sagged with his weight. His arm went around her, his mouth in her hair as he whispered that he loved her again and again until she slept deeply and did not dream.

***

AIDAN SAT UP AT THEsound. It was familiar and yet alien. Jenny stirred beside him, pushing her hair out of her eyes, then throwing her feet over the edge of the bed.

“Wait,” he said. “Stay here.”

“It’s ‘Arley,” she said. “She’s probably ‘aving a nightmare.”

She was right. He could tell the sound was a child screaming now.

“I shouldn’t ‘ave left ‘er.”

Jenny was dressed quickly and had his bedchamber door open before he could even think where his clothing might be. A moment later, he heard her voice, probably giving an order to one of his servants, and then another moment later, the screaming ceased.

“Sir?” Pierpont was at his door, his eyes carefully averted. “Miss Tate has asked for warm milk for the...child. Shall I have a maid fetch it?”

Aidan understood exactly what the man was saying. Jenny had no authority here. Pierpont didn’t want to take orders from her. But he’d have to get used to it when Aidan married her. “Do whatever she says, Pierpont. Her wishes are mine.”

“Yes, sir.” Pierpont began to move away then paused. “Shall I rouse your valet, sir? He—er, retired to the servant’s wing so as not to disturb you.”

“I can bloody well dress myself,” Aidan said. When the butler left, he half doubted his own words. Finally, he pulled on his breeches and a robe and padded barefoot to the nursery to find Jenny sitting on Harley’s bed, stroking the child’s hair. It was a motherly sort of thing to do, and not the kind of behavior he expected from Jenny. He doubted her own mother had ever soothed her fears after a nightmare. The little girl was talking about her dream, about a man with a stick who’d been chasing her, and Jenny murmured that she was safe.

Aidan moved aside as a maid brought the warm milk. Jenny gave him a look and made a shooing motion with her hands. He supposed his presence wasn’t helping, so he went back to bed. But he didn’t sleep. He missed Jenny beside him and knew she’d stay with Harley now until morning. It was the perfect escape, and he’d given her plenty to escape from. She wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t want to marry him. He knew she didn’t want to risk her heart.

And the only way to make her risk her heart was to break down her outer defenses. That wouldn’t be easy. She had layers and layers of them. She had defenses he probably didn’t even know about. He’d made it past the first few layers last night. She’d even grudgingly admitted she loved him a very little, but she’d try to keep him from getting any closer to her heart. And one of these times when she threatened it was the last, she’d make sure that was so.

He made halfhearted attempts to go back to sleep, and when sleep eluded him, he finally rang for his poor valet, washed, shaved, and dressed then went to his library to work.

So he was awake when Harley tried to sneak out of the house. He heard her step on the stairs and went to the library door, leaning against the jamb and crossing his arms as she crept across the marble foyer.

“And where are you off to this early?” he asked.

She jumped. It would have been almost comic if she didn’t then hide the spoon in her hand behind her back.

“Stealing my silver?” he asked, raising a brow.

“It’s me compensation,” she said, facing him head on. This child was no coward. She also looked much more like a little girl this morning. The weak early morning light illuminated her small, clean face, and her brown hair reached just past her shoulders, which were garbed in a plain dress. God knew where his servants had found it.

“Because you’ve only been paid ten of the twenty pounds you were promised,” he said.

“Exactly.”

“I hardly think that spoon—is that from the milk last night?”

She nodded.

“That spoon is not worth ten pounds.”

“I know.” She gave a sheepish look then reached under her skirts and extracted a candlestick—no, two candlesticks, a tray, and a...

“Is that a door latch?”

“Looks expensive,” she said.

“How the devil did you manage to stuff all of that under your skirts?”

She shrugged. “Practice.”

“Yes, well, hand it over.” He held out his hand and she reluctantly trudged toward him and gave him the tray, the candlesticks, and the latch. “The spoon too.”

“Aw, give me something.”

“I’ll give you ten pounds after you visit the orphanage with Miss Tate and me.”

“I told ye. I ain’t being locked up in an orphanage.”

“And I told you that no one will make you stay if you don’t want.”

“And ‘ow can I trust ye’ll keep yer word?” she asked.

“I’ll vouch for ‘im.”

He looked up to see Jenny on the stairs. She was still wearing her nightgown and robe, her black hair a tousled mess that framed her face. Her cheeks were pink, and he could see the faintest traces of pink where he’d bitten her neck. Her gray eyes flicked to him, and her cheeks reddened. That was interesting. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her blush before. Of course, she didn’t always behave as wantonly as she had last night. He had a distinct memory of her begging him to thrust harder.

Aidan merely raised a brow at Jenny’s pronouncement.

“Wot’s that mean?” Harley asked, her tone suspicious.

“It means, I give ye my word, ‘e’s telling the truth.”

Aidan thought Harley might ask how she knew Jenny was telling the truth, but the child didn’t question her. Instead, she sighed and handed Aidan the spoon. “Fine, let’s go.”

“Although I believe Mr. Wraxall and Lady Juliana wake rather early,” he said, “I think this is still a bit too early for a social call.”

Harley frowned and looked at Jenny. “Wot’s ‘e talking about?”

“I think ‘e’s suggesting we eat before we go,” Jenny said.

Harley seemed to brighten at the idea of food. “Eat wot?”

“Whatever ye like,” Jenny said. “A ‘ouse like this—ye’ll have porridge and scones and kippers and more.”

Harley’s eyes went round. “Where is it?”

“I’ll take her,” Aidan said before Jenny could start for the dining room. He doubted Cook had breakfast prepared yet, but the child could have a cup of chocolate while they waited for the rest. “You should dress,” he told Jenny. “I took the liberty of sending a footman to collect a few things from your flat. Your maidservant was there and sent a dress or two.”

Jenny gave him a murderous glare. “It’s all going right back,” she said, apparently seeing right through his ploy to bring as many of her things here as he could. “When ‘Arley goes, so do I.” She stomped up the stairs, and Aidan gestured to the dining room. Harley followed him inside, climbed into a chair, and happily accepted the chocolate. Her eyes went round after she tasted it.

“Where’s the rest of the lot?” she asked.

Aidan flicked his wrist at the footman. “Tell Cook to send whatever is ready.”

The footman hurried away, and Aidan sipped his coffee and opened the Times, which was always on the table each morning along with several other papers.

“Why don’t she like ye?” Harley asked. Aidan lowered his paper. He wasn’t used to being interrupted.

“Why doesn’t she like me.”

“That’s wot I said.”

Aidan decided to forego the grammar lesson. “She does like me, Miss Harley. The problem is that she doesn’t want to like me.”

“I can understand that,” the child declared.

“Can you?”

“I don’t want to like ye either. And yet, I almost do.”

“I’m not quite sure how to take that.” He raised his paper again and tried to ignore the sound of slurping.

“Oy! Wot is this?”

Aidan lowered his paper again. He glanced at the cup the child held. “Chocolate.”

“I want more.”

“Finish that cup, and you shall have more.”

As she proceeded to do just that, he laid the paper back on the table. He couldn’t remember the last time he had dined with anyone so informally. His meals were always taken alone or were part of a business negotiation. Moreover, this dining room had rarely been used by anyone other than he. He hosted the obligatory dinner parties, but usually he breakfasted alone. It was nice to have someone across from him.

Harley was not what he would call an attractive child. Her face was too thin, her brown eyes too big in her small face. Once all the dirt and grime had been washed out of it, her hair had turned out to be a dark blond. Her table manners were atrocious, of course, but Jenny’s had been as well. He remembered teaching her to chew with her mouth closed and how to hold a knife and fork. They’d had to practice with sticks as they didn’t have a knife and fork in Spitalfields.

“More.” Harley held out her empty cup.

“Please.”

She wrinkled her brow, and from the doorway, Jenny said, “ ‘E wants ye to say please.”

Aidan glanced at her and smiled at how pretty she looked in the simple blue dress with her hair pulled back in a loose bun at her nape.

“Why?”

“It’s polite,” Jenny explained. “Say, May I have more, please?”

“May I ‘ave more, please?” Harley said, almost perfectly imitating Jenny’s upper-class accent.

Jenny looked at Aidan and so did Harley, and he realized he was expected to pour. He rose and did so, offering it to Jenny as well, but she waved it away and took a cup of tea instead. By then the footman had returned with another and placed trays full of pastries and typical breakfast fare, and Jenny brought Harley to the sideboard and helped her fill her plate.

Aidan rarely ate breakfast, but he also had no desire to open the paper again, even though he’d heard there would be news about a large tea import company. He was enjoying watching Jenny and Harley, enjoying the sound of voices and laughter filling the usually tomblike quiet of the house.

Finally, after three plates of food, Harley announced she couldn’t eat another bite and Jenny said it was time to go to the orphanage. She looked at Aidan, who had half a mind to tell them all to forego the orphanage. He liked having Harley here. He liked having Jenny here. But she already knew that. She just didn’t believe he would continue to feel that way. And yet, he couldn’t imagine going back to life before Jenny had come back into it. It seemed as though he’d been a shadow, moving through a dark world, and she had come in and pulled open the drapes to allow the sun in.

“Do we get to go in that fancy carriage again?” Harley was asking.

“Of course,” Jenny said.

Aidan quietly ordered the custom carriage he’d had made with the seat that pulled out into a bed. “Actually, we’ll take my other carriage,” he announced.

“Aww!” Harley said loudly.

“And this one is even better,” he said.

Jenny smiled at Harley’s whoop of joy.

***

SUNNYBROOKE HOME FORBoys was located in a new building that had only recently been constructed. The original structure had stood in Spitalfields and been destroyed by fire. Neil Wraxall, who had been Aidan’s commander during the war, had moved the dozen or so orphans to the Earl St. Maur’s town house until the new building was ready. Now he and Lady Juliana met Aidan, Jenny, and Harley in a sunny courtyard accessed through a tall iron gate that would provide privacy from passersby and yet allow some view of the outside world.

Lady Juliana’s nephew was toddling about, pulling leaves off bushes as she followed him, and Neil stood speaking with Colin FitzRoy and his wife, the lovely Lady Daphne. Jenny stopped midstride when she saw the foursome, and Aidan could hardly blame her. Lady Juliana was short and voluptuous with coppery red hair. Lady Daphne was taller with blue eyes and silvery blond hair. She was a typical English beauty, and her eyes lit up as soon as she spotted Harley. She’d obviously been looking for them as she was the first to see them.

“Harley!” She lifted her skirts and practically ran to greet them. To Aidan’s surprise, Harley didn’t turn and run the other way. She stopped, smiled, and consented to being hugged and fawned over by the duke’s daughter.

The others gathered around, and Aidan bowed to Colin, Neil, and Lady Juliana and introduced Miss Tate and Harley, though she seemed to need no introduction. Jenny hovered in the background, but soon Daphne had engaged her in a three-way conversation with Harley. And then Lady Juliana asked everyone to come inside for tea.

Aidan glanced at Harley, who he suspected would revolt as the idea of going inside the orphanage. Instead, she said, “Do ye ‘ave that chocolate?”

“Of course,” Lady Juliana said. “I have sweet currant buns as well.”

“I’m not ‘ungry,” Harley said, crossing her arms over her little frame. “But I’ll take that chocolate out ‘ere.”

“Harley, we had an agreement,” Aidan said, but instead of giving in, she raised her chin and set her mouth in a mulish line. He was about to speak again, but Lady Juliana shook her head slightly.

“We can take our refreshments outside,” she agreed, “but then you won’t be able to meet Galatians, Ephesians, and Philippians.”

“Wot are they?”

Aidan wondered the same thing. He watched as Major Wraxall caught the little boy and hoisted him into his arms, tickling him before the child could slip out the front gate. “Rats,” Neil said. “Pet rats.”

“Oh, I know rats,” Harley said. “I’ve been bitten by them. Want to see?” She started to pull her skirts up to the knee, and Lady Daphne grasped her hands and pushed them back down again.

“But these rats are friendly. And they know tricks,” Lady Juliana said.

“Wot sort of tricks?” Harley asked.

“Come and see.”

The eight of them went into the orphanage, which was relatively quiet as Lady Juliana told him the boys were in class. While Neil and Juliana showed Harley and Jenny around, Colin and Lady Daphne cornered Aidan.

“Mr. Sterling, we are forever in your debt,” Lady Daphne said.

“I was happy to be able to help.”

Colin raised a brow at that but said nothing.

“My concern,” Aidan went on, “Is that she won’t want to stay.”

“At least she knows where to go if she needs help,” Lady Daphne said.

But Aidan had difficulty imagining allowing Harley to go back to the rookeries. He certainly wouldn’t make her stay at the orphanage if she didn’t want to, but he felt somewhat responsible for her now. Colin obviously felt the same because he pulled Aidan aside and asked where he’d found Harley.

Aidan explained how he’d arranged for Harley to come to him, and Colin was glad that at least Harley would have a bit of blunt.

“Whether or not she can hold onto it in the rookeries is another matter,” Aidan said, though he thought Harley was about as cunning as they came.

The boys emerged from their classrooms in a loud cacophony and Lady Juliana told them they could have an hour of exercise since the day was so fair. A loud cheer just about deafened Aidan as the boys went back into the courtyard and began a complicated game of catch that Aidan had never seen before. Harley stood beside him and watched for a bit then when the ball rolled to her feet, she picked it up, threw it back, and joined in.

Jenny’s hand closed on his arm, and he looked over at her. “She likes it ‘ere,” Jenny said.

“Chocolate, rats, games—what’s not to like?”

She smiled up at him, and he had a hard time not pulling her into his arms and kissing her right there.

“I don’t think she’ll agree to stay.” Jenny looked back at Harley who was now playing catch as though she had played it all her life. “She’s not ready to trust yet.”

Aidan refrained from pointing out that same statement could have been said of Jenny herself. “She doesn’t have to decide today. She has all the time in the world.”

Jenny looked back at him. “Do ye mean that? She can stay at your ‘ouse again tonight?”

He hadn’t exactly meant that. In fact, he’d been thinking about Jenny and himself when he’d said she had all the time in the world. But he realized he didn’t mind having Harley come back home with him as well. Especially if Jenny also came.

The ball landed at Jenny’s feet and Harley and several of the boys called for her to throw it back. She did and then surprised him by joining in the game as well. Her hair came loose but she ignored it and jostled among the boys as though she were one of them. And, of course, she was.

Neil moved beside Aidan. Lady Juliana’s nephew, whose name was Davy, had his head on Neil’s shoulder and his thumb in his mouth. “Where have you been hiding her?” Neil asked.

“I don’t have to tell you everything, Major,” Aidan said.

“You had us all fooled into thinking all you cared about was money. Clearly, there’s more.”

Aidan glanced at Jenny and remembered Phineas’s advice. “I haven’t said much because she’s just broken an engagement to Viscount Chamberlayne.”

Neil raised a brow.

Aidan pretended to be watching the game and spoke in a nonchalant tone. “He’s a good man, but he’s determined to live in Venice for the next year or so and work on an excavation.  Miss Tate is not pleased with the notion of an extended visit to Italy and she was insulted when he suggested postponing the wedding.”

Neil looked at Jenny then at him. “Is that the story I’m to tell my wife?”

“And Lady Daphne and as many others as will listen.”

“And how do you know Miss Tate? You fell in love with her while she was appraising the trunks in your larder?”

You fell in love with her. Wraxall said it so casually, though the words jolted Aidan. He’d been in love with Jenny for years. “Maybe if she agrees to marry me, I’ll tell you how I met her.”

Neil clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you happy, Sterling.”

Aidan had the audacity to believe that happiness would last.