Lady Bea continued as if she hadn’t heard her. “I married the Earl of Winthrop in my second season. An arrangement was reached between our parents, and I didn’t see him but once before our wedding day.”
She shifted in her seat and looked down. “There was this young man—from a good family, though they had fallen on hard times. He wasn’t titled. He was the third son of a baron and had little hope of ever inheriting.
“I met him at the beginning of the season, just before my marriage to the earl was arranged. Something magical happened between us. We saw each other as often as decorum permitted, and even managed a rendezvous in the garden of my parent’s estate one night. He was the first man I ever kissed.”
A gentle smile curved the soft wrinkles around her mouth as she paused, evidently lost in her memories.
“What happened to him?” Jillian asked.
Lady Bea looked up at her, and she was surprised by the bright sheen of tears in the older woman’s eyes.
“He came to see me the night before I married the earl and begged me to elope with him to Gretna Green. I regret to this day that I didn’t have the courage to follow my heart. I turned him away and I will never forget the disappointment—the pain in his eyes just before he left.”
She looked back down at her hands, twisting her fingers as she spoke. “I never saw him again.”
She took a deep breath and looked back up at Jillian, trying valiantly to hold back the tears. “I heard he joined the military and was later shipped to the colonies where he died in battle.”
Lady Cecilia patted Lady Bea’s arm comfortingly. “You couldn’t have known, Bea. Chances are you would have been widowed at a young age.”
She smiled warmly at Lady Cecilia and then looked back at Jillian. “So you see, my dear, love is very real, we just don’t always treat it correctly.”
“But how do youknow?” Jillian asked. “How do you know you aren’t mistaking some passing infatuation for love?”
Lady Bea’s gaze softened. “We all have passing moments of fancy, as I imagine you had for Lord Penroth.”
“Brief as it was,” Jillian muttered.
“But when you can’t imagine being away from someone,” Lady Bea continued. “When the thought of being without him brings you immeasurable anguish—then, my dear, you are in love.”
###
Justin rode along Park Lane, fresh from an invigorating outing in Hyde Park. He had given his horse its head, allowing him to thunder along the curving paths, now practically bare of any other riders, this first day of December.
Before he knew it, he found himself turning onto Mount Street, and, even more mysteriously, he found himself stopping in front of Jillian’s townhouse. It wasn’t overly large, but the stylish brick house suited her.
He slid off his horse and secured the reigns to the small gate that guarded the stone path leading up to her front door. Later, he would wonder how and why he mounted the steps and raised the elegant brass knocker to rap twice.
###
Jillian was walking through the foyer to the sitting room when she heard a knock. Knowing the servants were in the kitchen, she hastened to answer it.
She opened the door and looked out, shocked to see Justin standing there. “Your grace,” she managed to stammer, unable to keep the surprise from her voice.
“I thought we agreed you would call me Justin,” he said, smiling at her befuddlement. “Are you going to invite me in?”
She glanced down at the door she was holding tightly to and hastily stepped back, opening it wide. “I do apologize. I did not expect to see you here,” she said, flustered by the way he seemed to fill up the entryway as he stepped inside.
She gestured for him to follow her as she led him into the sitting room. “Do sit down,” she said, turning around as if searching for something. She looked at him in puzzlement when he remained standing.
He looked pointedly at her.
“Oh, do forgive me!” she said, sitting down in the nearest chair.
He eased his large frame into the chair across from her.
“Would you like some refreshment?” she asked, scrambling up from her seat once more.
He rose and stood politely.
