Lindsay noted that dresses were more elaborate, with ruffles at the hem, and that the spencers had more trim. The subdued color and cut of the men’s clothing made the red of his uniform stand out all the more. His shako looked as out of place here as a mob cap would have at Waterloo. No matter – he was entitled to wear his uniform until he sold his commission. It was all that stood between him and clothes from a secondhand stall.

The smell of sugar and molasses made him think of Poppy, and he made his way to the door of the confectioner’s. He had the door open before he recalled that he had no real money with him. He could not spend Poppy’s coin, and not only because the shop owner would throw it in his face.

Instead of going in, Lindsay held the door for two women who were leaving, a lady and her maid. Judging from their laughter, the maid was as much friend as servant.

„But, my lady, he should he giving me sweets.“

„Kitty, some rules are made to be broken.“

Kitty had no answer for that. She flashed him a smile of thanks for both her and her lady. Her mistress never even noticed that someone had held the door for them.

Lindsay noticed her. Her laughter embodied a joie de vivre he envied. Everything about her was as fresh as the spring day. Her perfume, the pink in her cheeks, the golden hair, the delicacy of the lace fichu that framed the curve of her neck. Her pelisse, the blue-green of her gown. Every single element of her perfection embedded itself in his mind in that one moment. He had yet to see her face, but was sure he would know her again, if only by the sound of her voice, for the smile that echoed in her words.

Lindsay’s steps took him in the same direction as them, and he followed her progress as she made her way toward Hanover Square. She paused at least three times to exchange greetings with other shoppers, two gentlemen and another woman. Not friends, mere acquaintances. And how did he know that? The way she stood. The way she moved, with self-conscious grace. The camaraderie she shared with her maid was absent. A natural caution, or did she have no friends in London?

Lindsay watched as she and Kitty considered the merits of a shop specializing in leather goods. Something for her husband, perhaps? For surely she was married. No one this lovely would remain unattached.

They took so long in consideration that by the time they moved on, Lindsay was only a few steps behind them. If he had been less of a gentleman he could have overheard their conversation.

Her laughter drifted back to him, and Lindsay decided that when he sold his commission…

He was distracted from his fantasy by the sound of a horse, moving at unsafe speed, racing down the crowded street. A moment later a rider came into view, mud-spattered and determined on losing not a moment.

Lindsay moved forward quickly, the battlefield instinct for survival still with him even if now it meant no more than protecting a lady’s gown from ruin. He took her by the shoulders, her back pressed against his chest, and placed himself between her and the mud that the idiot rider was casting up as he raced by.

He felt die delicacy of her bones beneath his fingers, die way her head would fit just below his chin, die orange spice scent of her perfume. And he felt her stiffen under his grip. Lindsay loosened his hold immediately. Even as she turned to him, people around them cried out in consternation. In mat instant the woman realized mat she had been rescued and not assaulted. While die rest of me street muttered, cursed and cried over mud-damaged domes, his lady turned to him.

„Thank you for the gallant sacrifice, Colonel.“ Even as she spoke, die practiced artifice disappeared, banished by a laugh mat lit her eyes and touched his heart.

He bowed to her. Those eyes, he thought; I could lose myself in them forever. „It is major, my lady. Major David Lindsay of me 28m Foot.“

„Of me 28m Foot.“ She spoke the words as he did, and he nodded.

„My cousin is in the 28th. He joined for the uniform, I think.“

He looked down at die red jacket witii the bright yellow facings.

„I am afraid, Major Lindsay, mat your uniform will never be die same. Do turn around.“

Lindsay obeyed her order, and she made a small sound mat confirmed her suspicion.

„Quite ruined, I’m afraid.“

He turned back to her, shaking his head. „Not at all, my lady, merely injured in your service. It has seen action for ten years and not failed me yet.“

„Oh yes,“ she said, her smile fading, „I am sure it has survived far worse. I am sorry. I did not mean to make light of it.“

„Not at all.“ Lindsay could have kicked himself for erasing her smile. She’s flirting with you, you dolt. Think of something to say, so she will remember you when you meet again. „I am sure my coat will fully recover.“

„I wish I were convinced of that. If it cannot be made like new, then I will buy you a new one.“

That gave him pause. Not that he wanted a new uniform, but that she would offer something so personal to a complete stranger chance met on Bond Street.

„Will you come and show me that it is still wearable?“ she continued with a smile that hinted at conspiracy. „On Friday. I am hosting a small party to announce my arrival for the Season. I would be pleased if you would join us for some music and a light supper before we all make our way to the evening’s entertainments.“

„Thank you.“ Her arrival for the Season. Did that mean no husband?

„Eight o’clock, then? I am on Norfolk Street, just off Green. My house is the only one on the street with a bright blue door.“

She turned from him before he could agree. He watched her out of sight. She was as fresh as the spring air, for all that she was not a young girl. More than lighthearted. Less than brazen. Unconventional, he decided.

A bright blue door? The only one on Norfolk Street? More like the only one in London. It was as odd as extending an invitation and neglecting to give him her name.

„Her name is Lady Grace Anderson, Major.“ Nancy came into the study with Billy asleep on her shoulder.

How was a man to find out a lady’s name and situation when the usual options were no longer his? His club memberships were long gone, his contacts among society nonexistent. Lindsay thought asking Nancy’s help had been rather clever, like the old days on the Peninsula when he would have Jesseck check the status of grain for the horses. Jesseck spent most of his time in the kitchen these days, but Nancy was out daily with the children.

„She is a widow and this is her third Season since her husband died. The house was part of her settlement, but she rented it out all during her marriage.“

„And she was married to…?“

„Viscount Anderson, heir to the Earl Draycott. He was fifteen years older than she and died from a heart ailment.“

„No children.“

„No children, sir, but, this Season her aunt and the aunt’s son are staying with her.“

For propriety or company? Or was the cousin courting?

The conversation played back in his head as he approached the three front steps. The house was narrow, only about twenty-five feet wide, but it rose four stories, and that didn’t count the basement. Comfortable but unremarkable, except for the blue door.

The butler greeted him with genuine warmth, took his shako and told him that the gathering was meant to be informal and to please join the guests unannounced. Lindsay found the large salon filled with over thirty people and no sign of Lady Anderson.

Several people smiled and nodded. A moment later an old gentleman approached, introduced himself, thanked him for his service and then began a monologue on his hopes for England at peace.

And so it went. His uniform was the only invitation people needed to make an introduction or start a conversation. And the Waterloo medal drew the curious. It named him hero and victor. No one ever asked how it felt to wear a medal that represented suffering as well as victory.