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Nicholas’s butler stepped into the room. “I beg your pardon, my lord, but there is a parcel here for you.”
         “Ah, excellent,” Nicholas said as he got to his feet. “Excuse me, ladies, I have been waiting for this.”
         Jane’s brow wrinkled as she looked at her husband, but she didn’t question what he had received, nor stop him as he left the room.
         “That man. I shiver when I think of what he could have ordered for me this time,” Jane laughed.
         Lucinda smiled. “He loves you, that is as clear as the color of his eyes or the part of his hair.”
         Jane nodded. “And I love him.”
         “You are lucky,” Lucinda said softly. “Appreciate every moment you have with him.”
         Jane reached out and took Lucinda’s hand gently and the two women looked at each other with a gaze filled with meaning. Lucinda knew she didn’t have to tell Jane about loss. She had experienced it, herself, when her father and brother died.
         “Are you well?” Jane asked as she released Lucinda’s hand and the moment passed.
         Lucinda blinked. “Of course. Why?”
         Jane settled back against the settee and watched Lucinda carefully. “Nothing in particular, you simply seem a bit out of sorts. I want to be certain that nothing has happened.”
         Even though she tried to control the reaction, Lucinda felt her eyes go wide at Jane’s question. “Happened? No, of course not. What could have happened? Nothing happened.”
         Jane’s gaze narrowed to one that Lucinda knew well after two years of mourning. So many people had given her that look of worry, tinged with pity. She had come to hate it. Hate being treated as if she were a piece of glass that could shatter with even the slightest upset.
         “I saw you speaking with Lord Blythestone last night,” Jane said softly.
         Lucinda frowned, unable to stop the annoyance that arose in her whenever she thought of Blythestone and his pompous posturing. “Yes.”
         “I hope he isn’t the reason you bring up the subject of developing an interest in a new man,” Jane said with a frown of her own.
         Lucinda sat back in the chair in utter disbelief and simply stared at Jane.
         “If you do give your affections to someone new, I hope that it would be someone worthy,” Jane continued without breaking her gaze at Lucinda.
         Lucinda shook her head as a harsh burst of laughter escaped her lips. “Trust me, Jane, I would never give my affections to a man like Blythestone.”
         “No?” Jane’s relief was obvious. “Thank goodness. I could hardly believe that would be true, but the timing made me ask.”
         “Well, it was certainly not Blythestone who inspired my statement to Nicholas.” Lucinda shuddered. “The very idea of such a union makes my skin crawl.”
         Jane nodded her agreement. “But if not him, then who? Was there some other man here at our party, or perhaps one left behind in London who inspired you to think of a future beyond widow’s weeds?”
         Lucinda pushed to her feet and paced to the window to look outside. She had never been very good at lying and Jane was a smart woman who would likely recognize the signs if Lucinda wasn’t careful.
         “No one,” she said as she looked out into the garden below. “I was only speaking in hypotheticals when I brought up the subject, nothing inspired by any particular person.”
         “I see,” Jane said, her tone entirely neutral.
         Lucinda looked over her shoulder at her sister-in-law, but she couldn’t tell if Jane believed her statement or not. She shrugged. “I think I shall go upstairs for a bit, if you don’t mind. I feel a touch of a headache coming on, perhaps I am overly tired.”
         Jane got up and nodded. “Of course, Lucinda. Please, rest and feel better. This is your time and you should spend it in whatever