On July 31st, the Bastion brothers hosted a glorious bash to celebrate their sister’s seventeenth birthday. Siena was the bell of the ball. Men were entranced by her beauty as they observed her dancing with numerous partners and laughing with delight.

“Your sister is determined to break hearts tonight,” commented John Christi.

Hayle Bastion sighed in resignation. “What can I do? She’s grown into a beautiful young woman…it’s all out of my hands now, I’m afraid.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” said Egan, his face noticeably displeased. “Just look at those lechers staring at her. Why did you allow her to don that distracting gown?” asked Egan irritably. “Why, it’s simply impossible for her dancing partners to look anywhere but her brimming bosom. She’s but a child!”

Hayle patted his younger brother on the back. “She’s not a child, she’s a young woman, and that is precisely what Siena has been trying to tell us these past few months. We can’t keep her in hiding forever, Egan. She has to grow up some time. If you recall, mother was already engaged at her age. Soon our little sister will find some poor unsuspecting bloke and marry him.”

“I won’t allow it. She’s simply too inexperienced, too trusting with men…”

“I’m afraid we don’t have much choice in the matter. Why, I suspect that she’s already set her sights on someone. It’s just a matter of figuring out whom exactly. Perhaps I should solicit the help of Inspector Cleaver,” mused Hayle jokingly.

“A grand idea,” confirmed Egan, in absolute seriousness.

“Ah, look who’s decided to join us!” said Kyale with a welcoming smile. “The elusive Mr. and Mrs. Burton.”

Emily and William joined the trio of friends and exchanged heartfelt greetings.

“We haven’t seen you in weeks,” chided John teasingly.

“Well…” began Will, but found himself stumbling for words. All Emily could do was blush.

“Ah, say no more,” said Hayle, coming to his friends’ rescue. “It’s perhaps bad form on our part to enquire as to the reason for your recent disappearance from the social scene…as you are still newlyweds…all is understood, my friends,” he added winking.

Emily’s blush deepened and she attempted to discreetly adjust some errant curls behind her ear. She felt an impish smile creep up to the corners of her mouth and she wondered silently if the three men could guess that on the way there Will had made love to her in the carriage. Emily skewed her gaze to the floor, for fear of the puckish look in her eyes betraying her thoughts.

“I’m going to go find Siena,” said Emily and giving a brief curtsy left the men behind.

She didn’t have to search for long. It was easy to locate Siena Bastion as the radiant centerpiece among the throng of male suitors. She laughed melodiously and swayed her fan in teasing movements. Her eyes were aglow with merriment and flirtation.

“Hello Siena,” said Emily, finally penetrating the circle of her admirers.

Siena practically yelped with delight, as she pushed the men out of the way to embrace her friend. “Emily, darling, how have you been? It’s been ages since I saw you last!”

“Gentlemen,” said Emily addressing the men, “I hope you will forgive me if I steal away Lady Bastion for just a moment…I promise not to keep her long.”

The men’s faces fell with disappointment, but Siena couldn’t care less. Without so much as a backward glance she proceeded to walk away with Emily.

“I’ve come to wish you the happiest of birthdays, my friend,” said Emily, smiling at Siena. “We haven’t had much time to speak since that abominable trial, but I’ve been wanting to thank you for quite a long time now.”

“Thank me? Whatever for?”

“It is thanks to you that William and I have been reunited. You gave me hope when I had none…you are a true angel, Siena.”

“Oh, Emi. Don’t be silly. You told me yourself that you believe in fate. Well, then it’s her majesty Fate you should thank, for you and William were meant to be together!”

“I feel so lucky to have you as a friend, Siena. I truly mean it.”

“I feel lucky to have you as friend as well. Why, who else could I ask to give me an honest account of what it’s really like to be a married lady? I know I can count on you to tell me all the details, right?” asked Siena, giving Emily a knowing smile. The latter blushed. “I just want to know whether or not the state of matrimony is as appealing as everyone makes it out to be…I know you’ll be honest with me.”

“Why Siena,” said Emily observing her friend closely, “have you found a candidate who might satisfy your requirements for a husband?”

Siena’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “What if I have? Could you keep a secret?”

“You don’t have to tell me,” said Emily, but felt quite overcome with curiosity.

“I want to,” said Siena, tugging Emily’s hand excitedly. “I’ve been dying to tell someone! I couldn’t tell my brothers of course. They’d never approve. But you…I know I can trust you.”

“Of course,” reaffirmed Emily. “Who is the lucky man?”

“Lord Damien Roquemoore,” whispered Siena, pronouncing the name as if it were sacred.

Emily’s eyes widened with shock.

Lord Roquemoore was a known recluse. He rarely ventured outside his grand estate in Derbyshire, visited London only on matters having to do with business, and almost never appeared at social gatherings. His wealth was practically legendary, but his character was utterly obscure. Suffice it to say, that he was most certainly no social imposter, his family line ancient and well known throughout England, but nonetheless, very few people seemed to know any intimate details about Damien Roquemoore. The society pages never mentioned his name, for the elusive Lord could hardly provide them with any material for salacious gossip.

His looks could be best described as dark and brooding…truth be told, there was something palpably unsettling about being in his presence. Many men felt intimidated by his mere proximity. He spoke seldom, but when he did, his dramatic baritone commanded undivided attention. Emily was never formally introduced to the man, but he had been pointed out to her before.

She couldn’t believe that Siena, the girl who could choose from scores of young, witty, amiable, handsome men, would find her heart drawn to the stark, almost hellish countenance of Lord Roquemoore. Even imagining the two together provided such a severe contrast that Emily thought it bordering on absurd.

“You are surprised,” noted Siena.

“I’m…uh…well…”

“Come now, Emi. Be truthful with me…you were candid with me at the hat boutique…be honest now and tell me what you think of my choice?”

“Well…I’ve not met the gentleman, Siena, ‘tis rather difficult to appraise a man’s character from afar…if he were a bonnet, I’d tell you at once…”

“Well, pretend that he is. Take what you know of him and consider it…” urged Siena.

Emily thought about it for a moment. “If Lord Roquemoore were a bonnet,” began Emily, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous that sounded, “then I’d say that while the form and execution were quite elegant, it would be too dark for your fair complexion, and perhaps the material too rough for your soft skin…”

Siena smiled at Emily. “That is precisely it! I knew you’d understand,” she said, squeezing Emily’s hand.

Emily looked at Siena as if the latter had lost her wits.

“Don’t you see?” asked Siena. “That is why I can’t stop thinking about him. He is unlike any other man that I have ever met. He doesn’t rattle on in mindless chatter in hopes of making me laugh. He wouldn’t flirt and pay vapid compliments to win a place on my dance card. You are right, he is blessedly dark, his looks intriguingly severe, his eyes…smoldering black coals—“

“Siena!” said Emily, interrupting her friend. “Have you ever met the man? What I mean to say is, have you conversed with him at length?”

“I met him several months ago when I attended a private soirée hosted by Lord Bask. I noticed him right away. To me he stood out like some majestic black onyx amidst a sea of ordinary white pearls. He was clad all in black. He unapologetically declined dance offers from ladies and refused invitations to card tables. He conversed furtively with Lord Bask for some time and was about to take his leave, when I took it upon myself to make introductions.

“It was rather indecorous of me, but I couldn’t wait for my brother to finish his insipid card game, so I came up to him on my own and stretched out my hand. At first he looked at me as if I had mistook him for someone else…but then he took my hand in his, and Emily….I felt the heat of his fingers through my glove…his eyes…they shone with some hidden meaning…and I swear to you, my knees went weak.”

Emily stared at her young friend. “And? What happened?”

“To my consternation he was rather curt with me, but in the few moments before he took his bow and made his escape I recognized a certain look in his eyes.”

“What look?” asked Emily, her anticipation growing.

“A kind of look I’ve seen your husband bestow on you when he thought no one was looking,” answered Siena.

Emily knew what she referred to, but didn’t want to show it.

“I know why he didn’t speak to me for a long time, Emi. He knew I was too young for him and so he walked away, not wanting to waste time on a fruitless pursuit.”

“You are still young, Siena,” said Emily. “Lord Roquemoore is at least ten years your senior.”

“You know I am an old soul, Emi. I cannot bear the company of my peers. I need a real man…a man who can stir my senses.”

“Siena! You really mustn’t talk like that. You are a young lady and you have plenty of time to find the right man and fall in love and get married.”

“But I have found him, Emi. I’m telling you, I am determined to become Lady Roquemoore.”

What could Emily say to the love struck girl in front of her? Should she admonish her intentions? Should she try to dissuade her from pursuing such a seemingly ill suited partner? Emily recognized too much of herself in Siena’s stubborn, willful nature, and knew better than to rebuke her. And why shouldn’t she go after her dreams?

Emily reminded herself that she was also all of seventeen when Will Burton seemed like an unattainable dream to her, and now they were happily married. Love works in mysterious ways.

“All I can say is that I wish you all the happiness in the world, Siena. Whatever you decide, I will be there to support you.”

“Thank you for being so understanding,” said Siena. “It felt good to finally tell someone of my heart’s secret.”

“I have something for you,” said Emily and reached under the sleeve of her gown extracting a small piece of white silk.

“My handkerchief!” exclaimed Siena, recognizing the familiar emblem on the fabric.

“I want to return it to you. You gave it to me for good luck, remember? Well, it’s brought me lots of it. Now you should take it back so it can do the same for you.”

Siena took her handkerchief and tucked it into her glove.

“In my case, luck would certainly be helpful. Lord Roquemoore is rather difficult to encounter. I shall have to seek him out and make him fall in love with me.”

Siena never lacked in confidence and was very driven. Emily didn’t doubt that whatever that young woman set her mind to, she would accomplish with absolute certainty. This was going to be a very exciting year.

Emily returned to the ball room eager to dance with William. She could hardly wait to lose herself in the secure hold of her husband’s embrace, when suddenly she felt the eerie, undeniable feeling of being watched. She whipped around, saw no one she recognized, and dismissed the sensation, continuing her search for Will. She was about to take off in the direction of the musicians when she felt a feather light tap on her shoulder.

Emily turned, her eyes widened with shock, then her mouth opened, but she found that no words would come…

“I thought that was you,” he said, the smile as dazzling as she remembered.

“Mr. Burns,” said Emily, finally collecting herself. “What a surprise to see you…”

“A pleasant surprise, I should hope,” said Edward, as though the reality of their dreadful parting was but a dream.

“I never thought I would ever see you again,” said Emily, suddenly wishing she could escape.

“Is serendipity not a wonderful thing, Miss Summerset? Just as you think that happiness has escaped your grasp, you are presented with the chance once more…and so, here we are, together again.”

Emily looked at Edward and squinted in blatant examination of his person, she noticed that he looked far more weathered than when she last saw him. The blue eyes which used to sparkle with enticement and humor now seemed to her bleak and empty under the heavily hooded lids. His blond hair which she recalled giving off an almost seraphic glow when they met was now subdued and combed in a particular way as to conceal the receding hairline. He was still as tall as she remembered, and dressed sharply, but even the fashionable cut of his waistcoat couldn’t disguise the protruding gut which he was so desperately attempting to suck in.

“Yes, Mr. Burns, serendipity is a wonderful thing. Just when you think you’ve escaped a near disaster, another opportunity to become a victim of folly presents itself…and so, here we are. Is not your wife in attendance?” she enquired pleasantly.

Edward stumbled for words, smiled awkwardly, and shrugged. “Mrs. Burns is abroad,” answered he, not finding the courage to tell Emily that after cuckolding him ten times over, his adultress wife was little more than a stranger to him.   

“And how is your aunt?” enquired Emily out of mere politeness.

“The old harpy’s passed on,” answered Edward, unkindly.

“I am sorry to hear that. She seemed to favor you so greatly,” said Emily, surprised to hear such coarseness.

“You are keen to employ the use of the word ‘seemed’ in describing her affection for me, as I found that after her passing she left the entirety of her estate to the church.”

“It appears then that you take after her in presenting an appearance which contradicts your true nature,” jibed Emily.

“I suppose I deserve that,” conceded Edward. “All the same, I was hoping to find that after three years I would find your heart had softened. I did make such a mess of things. I won’t offend you by offering an explanation or trying to justify my actions, but is it at all possible to seek atonement for my villainy? Miss Summerset, is it possible that you could forgive me?”

“It’s Mrs. Burton, actually,” corrected Emily. “And Mr. Burns, there is nothing to forgive. Truly. You are absolved.”

“So, you are married then,” observed Edward, his smile becoming visibly forced. “Of course, for who but an imbecile like me would let such an angel slip out of his grip. Who, but a witless cad would be so careless as to let such a beauteous gem be lost.”

Emily listened to Edward, almost with pity, and thought to herself: and who but a naïve, impressionable country girl of nineteen could fall for such tripe?

“It was nice to see you, Mr. Burns,” she curtsied and left Edward, full of regret and longing, looking after her.

“Who was that you spoke to?” asked William, taking Emily by the waist and pressing her close to him.

“An old acquaintance,” said Emily simply. “Why, dear husband, do I detect a note of jealousy in your voice?”

“Not at all, my sweet. I trust you implicitly. Of course then you won’t mind if I go and say hello to the young Viscountess Torrington who has just arrived,” said Will, and looked towards the entryway where a beautiful young woman in crimson was exchanging greetings with Hayle.

“Move, and you’re dead, Burton,” warned Emily, squeezing her hand tightly on his.

William laughed. He was amused by Emily’s show of possessiveness. She was still herself, he thought. Open, honest, and true. His wife. His love. His happiness.