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because the entire village knew she had become a fallen woman and would not allow her to so much as sit in the inn’s taproom. Her disgrace was due to the lies and flatteries of some visiting gentry pup promising love and marriage. It was an old tale, as sad as it was typical.
    “I know. Yes.” She lifted her face as if to stop her tears. “I was just not expecting it. That’s all. It’s been so long since I’ve seen any of them. Thank God Sophie was not with me.”
    He nodded his understanding. Her family had tossed a few shillings at her and ordered her from their home, a gently bred woman with no earthly understanding of how to make her way in the world. John shuddered to think what could have become of her had he not found her that day, a depressing sight that had turned out to be the solution to so many of his problems.
    “Would you like to visit the cottage in Brighton? Get out of town for a few days?” he suggested.
    Her eyes glittered hopefully. “Yes, that would be wonderful. But it won’t be an inconvenience for you, will it? I went to the country only two months ago. We can’t have people thinking that I’m neglecting you or that we’re, um, cooling to each other.” As always, her cheeks flushed at the mention of their arrangement.
    “No need to worry. Brighton is dead this time of year. I doubt anyone will even notice you’ve gone.” He put on a broad smile to cheer her. “Besides, Michael invited me to a mill Thursday night, so that is a perfect excuse for not being here.”
    She nodded a few times, then wrinkled her nose with a little teasing distaste. “Mills. Fighting. I will never understand gentlemen.”
    He laughed. He could hardly say he understood them any better. There were days when he was sure he did not understand anyone. Before either of them could say more, the door burst open and Sophie appeared, her doll hanging by one porcelain arm.
    “My, my. Two pretty little ladies in such fine dresses,” he drawled, raising his quizzing glass to his eye in a good impression of some haughty lord.
    Sophie giggled, well used to this game. “I dressed her hair too.”
    “Huh.” John sniffed, unimpressed. “Seems a bit out of fashion to me. How provincial.”
    Lily chuckled and rolled her eyes. Sophie lifted her little chin and declared, “You’re a gentleman, Papa. Gentlemen don’t know anything about hair because their hair is short. Ha!”
    “Ah, you have me there, lovely. We gentlemen must remember our place and not comment on things beyond our knowledge.” He winked at Lily. Sophie took the seat next to him and began to regale him with a very serious story about the nearby shopkeeper’s dog having puppies, and wouldn’t it be such a fine idea if they had a puppy? It could protect the house and watch things real close, like dogs do.
    Eventually the tea tray was brought in and conversation moved to mundane things in the paper and further consideration of the various schools Sophie might attend when she was older. Through it all, John was forced to admit that half his attention was elsewhere. He thought about the mill tomorrow and the fuss his valet would put up once he saw his ruined waistcoat, some solicitor’s letters he needed to pen replies to and…and about a pair of green eyes looking at him anxiously. Yes, that too.
    Damned if he had ever seen such a pair of emerald-green eyes.

Chapter Two
    Hiding
    John left his two ladies with a firm promise of future puppy ownership and arrived home a comfortable distance from the dinner hour. He tried to be productive by getting through some of his correspondence, but it was no use. He was feeling it again, his mind and body at war. And as the sun set and darkness fell over London, his distraction only got worse.
    It was too soon. It had only been three months since he had last indulged, and before that, he had gone more than eight months before admitting defeat. The rush of blood to the surface of his skin made him long to be