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yet unthinking, he had insulted her yet again.
    “I thought…that is, I wasn’t sure whether to come because I believed you despised me and would reject me yet again. But then I knew I had to see you, to try one more time. I could not wait. I did not think of what I wore or how I looked.” He swiped at the sweat that threatened to run into his eyes.
    She laughed. He tilted his head, confused and hopeful all at once. Smiling, she stepped forward and pulled at the lace that lined the top of her bodice. It was the lace of one of the handkerchiefs he had given her. She handed it to him and lowered her eyes demurely.
    “Your hair,” he said as he wiped his face.
    She looked up at him and arched her brow.
    “It’s different.”
    “You don’t like it?” She sounded worried.
    “I meant it’s different from when I saw you in the past. In truth I prefer it as it was then, but it is very lovely like this.”
    “Like a lady of the ton?” Her interest sounded genuine—a pleasant change from the society ladies whose tones were always mildly bored, who asked questions only to please him, not because they wanted to know the answer.
    “More colorful,” he said truthfully, “but otherwise much like. I think. In truth, I know little of the intricacies of ladies’ styles—neither hair nor dresses—though I find your dress very pretty indeed.”
    She nodded, smiling slightly. “I know little of these things either. I know nothing of being a fine lady, or of the society of the ton.”
    “I am glad of that,” he said. “I find the ladies of the ton to be boring—and mercenary.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “They are terribly polite to me and always show considerable concern about me.”
    “But that is good.”
    “It is only because of my title and my wealth.” He paused, then, smiling down at her added, “In spite of those things, you rejected me, despised me.”
    “Because you have money and title, and I have none, you thought you could buy me.” She was scowling again.
    “Forgive me.” He took her hand and, to his considerable relief, she did not withdraw it.
    Her expression softened. “You could always have whatever your heart desired. You have always lived a life of ease and privilege. “
    “Yes, and boredom.”
    “Boredom?” She looked at him as though she could not believe what he was saying. “How could you be bored? The world is such a wonderful place—so much to do, so much to see. Or do you mock me?”
    “No, I do not mock you.”
    “You, who have everything any man could want, is bored, and I, who has so little, have never been bored in my life.” She shook her head and began to laugh and, still holding her dainty hand in his, he found himself laughing with her.
    When they became serious again, he rubbed his head ruefully.
    “I do not have everything I want.” He met her gaze and held it for a moment. He felt the spark leap between them and his blood grow hot. “There is something—someone—I want more than anything on this earth. I dream that she would forgive me for my foolishness of the past.”
    “She does forgive you,” Talaitha said in a husky voice, squeezing his hand.
    “I would give everything I own to have her at least look upon me with approval.”
    Talaitha smiled, her gaze never leaving his. “She is looking at you with approval,” she whispered.
    “Is it too much to hope that she would look upon me with more than mere approval? That she could, perhaps in time, come to feel for me as I do for her?”
    “But sir,” Talaitha said softly, “I do not know how you feel for me.”
    “You are my heart’s deepest desire. I want to live my life with you at my side. I want never to be parted from you.” He paused for a moment, struggling to put his tumultuous feelings into words. “I—I adore and revere you. I wish to marry you, should you ever be willing to marry me.”
    She tore her hand from his and turned away from him.
    “I have erred again, “he said, “I have