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uncomfortable situation.” He frowned. “Not that she would accept much in the way of help from me.”
    Paul studied the other man’s face. “You seem concerned about her.”
    Constantine sighed. “You know how it is when one of your young soldiers faces his first enemy fire, or makes his first kill? That terrible look of shock—as if the whole world has suddenly become a far more brutal and uncaring place?”
    Paul shuddered. “Unfortunately I do.”
    Constantine shook his head. “This will sound ridiculous, but you do not expect to see that look on the face of a young woman at a ball.”
    Paul put his hand over Constantine’s clenched fist. “It sounds as though you did the best you could for her.”
    “I did, but you know yourself that once that comfortable screen has been ripped from your eyes, the world is never the same again. I wish I could restore it to her, but I have no idea how to do it.”
    Paul waited until Constantine looked back at him, and could only admire his lover’s character even more. “I don’t know about you, sir, but I’d rather be back in bed than here with all these people.”
    “Indeed. Shall we go?”
    Paul rose to his feet. “I would be delighted.”

4
    “P aul, I’m so glad you could come.”
    “It is always a pleasure to see you; you know that. Now what is the dark mystery that made me have to skulk around the house until your mother left?”
    Paul squeezed Lucky’s hands and then gave her a hug. Her whole body tensed, and she immediately shied away from him and returned to pacing the rug in front of the fire. She looked as if she hadn’t been sleeping well, with dark circles under her eyes and her mouth pinched and drawn. He took a seat by the fire and continued to watch her carefully.
    “There is something I want to ask you.”
    “Then go ahead.” He gestured at the seat opposite him. She didn’t seem to notice and continued to walk, this time with her back to him.
    “A friend of mine finds herself in a difficult situation, and as I have no useful advice to give her, I thought of you.”
    “A friend.”
    “Yes, she . . . behaved quite indiscreetly at a ball recently, and now the man with whom she . . . dallied is insisting that they must marry to save her reputation.”
    Paul frowned and rapidly tried to work out exactly what Lucinda was really saying. “When you say ‘dallied,’ what do you mean?”
    “What do you think I mean? She was alone with this man without a chaperone. That alone is enough to force an offer of marriage—you know that.”
    “But does she want to marry the man?”
    An almost imperceptible shiver shook through Lucinda, and Paul tensed. “No, I don’t believe she does.”
    “Then surely all she has to do is tell him she doesn’t wish to wed him. If he is a gentleman, he’ll accept her decision and withdraw his suit.”
    She slowly faced him, her expression blank. “And what if he won’t?”
    “Then he is a complete and utter scoundrel, and she should inform her parents and ask them to deliver the news for her.”
    “And what if she doesn’t want to tell her parents?”
    Up until then, he’d quite decided they were talking about her, but that didn’t fit at all. Lucky’s parents adored her and would never hesitate to set any man about his business who had offended their daughter.
    “Why wouldn’t she tell her parents?”
    She turned away from him again. “Perhaps she dreads upsetting them, or they are already burdened with great responsibilities she fears to add to.”
    Paul considered everything she had told him anew. “I would still counsel her to talk to her parents. I doubt they would reject her entirely.” Her sudden, brittle laugh was unexpected. “What exactly did I say to amuse you?”
    “Nothing in particular. It’s just that your advice is exactly the same as the advice I thought to give her.”
    “What else did you expect me to say?”
    She stared down at the floor. “I’m not quite sure. I just hoped .