Finally he let go of the man. Grace was still talking to a group of women and had not seen their exchange. Several others had. Wonderful, he thought, praying the conversation would not find its way to the gossip sheets.

As he and Grace reached the lobby, they could see that a heavy rain was what had slowed the departures. Rain was common enough in London. In this case it was the cap on an evening that had been anything but perfect.

Grace turned to him. „Would you like to come to Norfolk Street with me? Then I can have the coachman take you home. It will save your uniform from the wet.“

He bent closer to her so that no one would overhear. „If they see us leave together then we will be the next bit of gossip.“

„Do you care what they think?“ she asked, then waited the barest of moments before turning to the door the porter was holding for them.

As usual she expected no answer from him, but it was all he could do not to give one anyway. No, madam, I am being well paid to not care what society thinks, but for once I would like to be the one making the decisions.

The ride to Norfolk Street was silent. The rain beating on the carriage roof made any but the most perfunctory conversation difficult, and Grace seemed lost in thought.

He watched her through half-closed eyes. There was some internal debate going on, and he did not have to ask to know that he was at the heart of it. As the carriage made the turn from North Audley to Green, she turned to him. „Would you like to come in for a brandy?“

This one was different from the usual question, tentative and uncertain.

„If that is what you would like, my lady.“ What exactly did she want? She had never offered such an invitation before. They had thoroughly dissected the play. What was there left to do this evening? He grimaced at his naivete.

„Major?“

He came back to the moment and realized that he had not heard her reply.

„What I wish,“ she repeated with some brusqueness, „what I wish is that you do what you wish.“

A choice? She was giving him a choice? He did not have to think. „Then no thank you, my lady. I am needed at home.“ It was a lie. He was saying no only because he could.

Completely mortified, Grace tried for a casual „Very well,“ and hoped that he could not feel her chagrin. She wanted nothing more than to be out of the carriage, away from him, but it was clear that Petkin had not heard their arrival. The coachman jumped down and hurried to the door to rouse the butler, or at least find an umbrella.

The silence grew, and Grace’s embarrassment gave way to a fury out of all proportion to his refusal. He was a complete and utter idiot. His instant „No“ seemed so instinctive that she could only assume he had taken a dislike of her. Now he was pretending she did not exist.

„Major.“

He was staring out the window, but with a slowly drawn breath he abandoned his study of the rain-soaked street and gave her his full attention.

„Perhaps you are bored with our arrangement. Shall we say good-bye as well as good night?“

He gave no sign mat he understood her but stared into her eyes, infuriating her all the more, something she had not thought possible. „Is that a yes or a no, Major Lindsay? Have you had enough of this game – is that what your refusal means? I hate it when you expect me to read your mind. I would rather you yell at me, abuse me with words, than suffer this contest of wills.“

He nodded slowly, and when he spoke it was with a calm that was worse than a shout. „I would only bid you good night, madam.“

He looked away from her again, and she saw that those few words had been a terrible blow to his pride. He did, after all, need the work. Need the money she paid him. This was not about his sensibilities, but his livelihood. How could she have forgotten that?

„I will see you tomorrow, then. At eight.“

He nodded, and she admitted to herself that her own pride had been bruised. „The Prince Regent is expected to make an appearance. I want you to look your best.“

He nodded again, his face still without expression. She turned toward the carriage door and the umbrella Petkin held out, wishing that her order had sounded more authoritative and less petulant.

It could be a very awkward evening, Grace decided. Unleashing anger, and then not apologizing for it, was as forbidden as picking roses from her mother’s garden. It was also rather exhilarating.

Lindsay had come without his medal.

„The ribbon was too frayed and must be replaced.“

„Is it? Did you bring the medal with you? I can send Petkin for a new ribbon.“

„I left it with my man. He’s been tending my uniform for years.“

He glanced away from her as he spoke, and she was sure he was lying. He’d left the medal home solely because she had told him, demanded, that he look his best. In the military that would be called something heinous, she was sure – denying a direct order? And punishable by something equally awful. Whatever it might be, it was not an option for her. She waited until he looked at her again.

„I am disappointed. Very.“ Why was it that she was the one who sounded defiant?

He did no more than bow to her.

Clearly she did not have what it took to be an effective officer, for she had no idea how to handle this. She opted for escape. „Shall we go?“

Lindsay turned with the barest of nods and opened the door before Petkin could be called. The coachman held the carriage door, and she did not speak again until they were both seated.

„Major, would you please check the latch on my necklace? It feels loose.“

She watched his hands while he pulled off his gloves and then turned her back to him, loosened her cloak and bent her neck so he would have a clear view of the necklace. It was still light out, but inside the carriage it was dim, and only now did she realize Lindsay would have to feel the clasp with his hands.

Grace had intended the request as a set-down, but the feel of his fingertips brushing her skin made her forget the need to remind him of his place.

Had any man ever touched her there before? Surely she would recall. His fingers left an exquisite fire on the back of her neck, a fire that warmed her from head to toe. She wished he would press his lips to the same spot. She closed her eyes and imagined the pleasure. Then she would turn into his arms and press her mouth to his. Her whole body responded to the fantasy. Oh dear, oh my, this was what lust felt like.

„Your necklace seems quite secure, my lady.“

He was either exerting great control or was totally unmoved. Was that possible? For one party to be on fire and the other uninterested? Of course it was.

She turned and straightened her skirts, making sure that no part of even her clothing touched him. She endured that for a full five minutes before she felt more herself again.

Herself. Whoever that was. A widow, largely happy, interested in all manner of things, and, at the moment, tired of being angry with the one person who seemed to enjoy the same things she did.

She turned to him. „I declare you the winner.“

„I beg your pardon, my lady?“

She really was beginning to hate those two words. Why would he not call her Grace? „I said that you are the winner.“ She let out a puff of breath that was as much annoyance as frustration. „I am tired of being in your bad books. I have never actually lost my temper with anyone before. And this is the second time I have done so with you. It takes entirely too much energy and ruins my sleep. So, I am sorry that I was rude last night. Sorry that I asked what you wanted to do and then was offended when it was not what I wanted to do.“

Lindsay regarded her with some confusion. True, she did not sound gracious in her apology – there was too much of an edge to her voice – but she was speaking English.