Chapter One

Elizabeth trembled slightly as Lucas held her hands. "Tell me? What is it, Lucas?"

He knew she detected the concern in his tone. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to alarm you."

"Okay…" She drew the word out with expectation.

Lucas shifted from one foot to the other, uncharacteristically nervous. The very thought of voicing his chasmic sorrow showed itself as his own hands shook. The trees spun around him as he tried to rein in his thoughts and feelings, but the hammer of his heartbeat increased like a pounding drum as the music neared its climax. He could hold back no longer.

He opened his mouth to admit his secret, but in that same time, his pocketed hand seemed to move of its own volition. Before he realized what he was doing, he pulled out the box, opened it, and was down on one knee. "Elizabeth, will you marry me?"

Elizabeth gasped, smiled, and threw her arms around him, then kissed him. "Yes, Lucas, yes! Of course I'll marry you!"

His nerves still on edge and flying as high as the hot air balloon from last spring, Lucas chuckled. He slid the ring onto her finger. Relief and utter ecstasy mixed with unease.

"You've just made me infinitely happier," Lucas said, kissing her again, then entwining hands. "Shall we walk?"

Elizabeth eased into a steady pace beside him. She admired the ring. "It's beautiful. You know, I have to admit, I wasn't expecting that. You made me quite nervous there for a moment." She giggled.

You have no idea, Lucas thought. He flashed her one of his winning smiles and kept the composure of the perfect gentleman as they strolled. I wasn't expecting to ask you right then either, but part of me needed to know before…

"Lucas?" Elizabeth interrupted his thoughts.

"Yes?"

"Is something the matter? You still seem…off."

"I'm just… It's getting late. I thought we might return before it rains." He glanced at the darkening sky.

Elizabeth kissed him softly. "Let's go home, then. I'll make us some warm tea, and we can spend some more time together. Rosemary will be happy to keep Jack."

Lucas forced a smile. "Your kindness knows no bounds. Thank you."

As a drizzle pelted their shoulders and heads, Lucas and Elizabeth arrived at her row house. It wasn't lost on Lucas that she had referred to her house as "home," as in his home as well. Grateful to be out of the chilly wetness, Lucas took her coat once they were inside and closed the door behind them. While Elizabeth drifted toward the kitchen, Lucas hovered near the door. He hung his coat with hers and clasped his hands in front of him.

Elizabeth glanced up from the kettle. "Lucas, please come in more."

He gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded. Lucas sat on the sofa's edge, his elbows resting on his thighs as he leaned forward. While Elizabeth made tea, his mind rehashed all the wonderful memories he'd made within these walls in the past year. Yes, Elizabeth's small house had become his home, too. Jack has become like a son. He had entered her home shortly after their first kiss, or kisses, on the bridge, finally feeling the freedom to do so as a man in love and the appropriateness to do so as a gentleman.

Elizabeth arrived with two cups and the pot. She poured one for each and offered him one.

Lucas took it with gratitude. The warmth flowed down him, calming him. Surrounded by Elizabeth's home and the further warmth it afforded physically and emotionally, Lucas set the cup on the table and eased back into the cushions.

Elizabeth copied him, but she turned toward him, taking his hand. "Lucas, I can tell something is bothering you. You don't regret asking to marry me, do you?" Her voice wavered by the end as her eyes sparkled.

"No, no, not at all!" Lucas took her hands and squeezed them. "Please don't think for a moment that's what's on my mind. I mean, of course I'm thinking about marrying you, but…" He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "You're right. You're always right. There is something I haven't told you."

"All right. Well, whatever it is, it can't be that bad. You look like you've seen a ghost."

Lucas closed his eyes and saw a ghost from his past. Steadying himself with a measured breath, he said, "I'm a widower."

Elizabeth stared at him like he'd just spoken a foreign language. She gasped slightly as her face vexed in a myriad of emotions. "A widower? But, Lucas, I don't understand. Why are you just telling me this now?"

Lucas felt the hurt in her voice. He winced. "Because I've just asked you to marry me, and I can't in good conscience ask you to have me as your husband without being completely honest with you."

When she didn't speak, he continued with haste. Holding fast to her hand, afraid to let go, Lucas unconsciously fiddled with the phantom ring box in his pocket. "It's a long story. I didn't tell you because, well, it's been my greatest regret, yet my great guilt."

"I don't understand. I mean, surely… Lucas, I know the pain of losing my spouse. You could have told me. I wish you would have." She cupped his cheek.

His gaze was on his shoes as he leaned into her touch. Shoulders slumped, he murmured, "I'm so sorry, Elizabeth. Of course you know that sort of pain, but your marriage to Jack was nothing like mine to Beatrice."

"But she died. There's no greater pain than losing your spouse, except to lose a child." Elizabeth shuddered.

Lucas didn't have to ask to know her mind went to every parent's greatest fear. "Yes," he said softly, "there is no greater pain than losing a child. I know that as well."

She drew a sharp intake of breath. "Oh, Lucas…" He heard the tears before he saw them.

His own vision began to blur as he raised his gaze to her sweet face. "I haven't talked about it, Elizabeth, because not only is the pain too great, but the story behind my marriage is complicated. Well, it's not so much complicated as messy. I was very young and very foolish… The story began on my eighteenth birthday… Well, the history extends years before that. I'll explain."

Growing up, Lucas never had much stability. His parents moved constantly and owned several homes throughout the world. As a boy, Lucas struggled to make friends. Not only was this due to barely having time to settle in one location before they were off to the next, but he was shy. As an only child whose parents loved him but remained distant, Lucas didn't know how to relate to other children. Never particularly athletic, although he liked baseball, he watched the other boys from the sidelines. If teams were picked, he was always last.

As Lucas grew, he felt last in many respects. His parents were so wrapped up with their careers and their social circles that Lucas was…well, last. He was quiet and thoughtful, observant and kind. He learned how to read people by watching them. He soaked in information through books and through seeing people as they walked, talked, and went about their days. Books were his friends because people were too busy either with their own lives. Book couldn't let him down.

So when his mother or father did give him attention, Lucas was always eager to oblige with perfect manners. He said and did the right thing because that was what was expected.

Yet he was lonely. He could only find so much solace in solitude. Loneliness was solitude's lingering shadow.

Christmas was the exception. During that magical part of the year, his father and mother lavished him with a year's worth of otherwise absent love. They travelled for fun. Business was tucked away until a new year, and for a few blissful weeks, Lucas was genuinely happy.

Among these festivities, Lucas' family often entertained guests. With the passing years, Lucas recognized some as returning guests. Among them was the Bordeaux family. The father, Guillaume, was friends with his father. The mother, Evangeline, got on well with his mother. They had a daughter who was the same age as Lucas, Beatrice.

The first time Lucas had met Beatrice, they had been six. She had been annoying. Now, it was six years later. Twelve was that awkward age when boys and girls looked at each other and thought, Ew, I'm not playing with him/her! Yet a part of them also thought, Wait, she looks rather pretty in that dress, or, Did he just smile at me? He's kind of cute.

While the parents were off doing whatever adults did-mainly discussing boring topics for hours on end over drinks in the lounge-Lucas and Beatrice were left to entertain themselves. Lucas sat in his favorite chair in the library of their Montreal house, their main house as well. Next to the crackling fire, he read about pirates and treasure and imagined himself as Peter Pan.

"This is terribly dull," came a chirpy voice.

Lucas lowered his book and surveyed the girl seated in the opposite chair. Absorbed in his tales, he hadn't realized she was there. He shrugged. "We're not supposed to go in there." He gestured toward the lounge down the hall, where several voices echoed.

Beatrice closed her book and set it aside. She sat up straighter. With a gleam in her eyes and a mischievous smile, she asked, "Don't you want to hear what they're talking about?"

Lucas shrugged again. "Maybe, but not really. Like I said, we're not supposed-"

"Yeah, yeah," she interrupted as she stood and rolled her eyes. "We're not supposed to bother the old folks."

Lucas frowned. "That's not very kind."

Beatrice laughed. "You're as dull as they are."

"Maybe, but at least I'm not about to make a fool of myself by entering a room where I'm not wanted." Lucas went quiet, the feeling of not being wanted hitting him like a hammer.

"I didn't say we would just walk in there," Beatrice insisted. She moved closer.

Lucas tried to read, but he sensed her nearness. He gazed up at her. The way the firelight danced on her face was mesmerizing, and its orange hue gave her hair a glow. He warmed and knew it wasn't completely from the fire. "Then what are you saying?" Why am I even entertaining this? he wondered.

Beatrice took his hand. "Why don't you come with me and find out?"

He stared at their entwined hands. His was sweaty, but he didn't pull away. Oddly, he rather liked her holding his hand, and when she pulled him to standing, he didn't try to stop her as she led him from the room. Nearly a head taller than him, Beatrice dominated the doorway as she peered down the hall.

She giggled. "Isn't there a back way in?"

Lucas nodded. "You mean the servants' entrance?"

"Exactly."

His insides froze at the very thought of creeping through the servants' quarters and disobeying his parents, but the expectant look on Beatrice's face was so tantalizingly pretty. "Um, well…I guess so."

"Okay, then show me the way."

Lucas suppressed a sigh and kept his hand in hers, but he turned the corner and headed for the servants' quarters. At this time of night, most would be in their bedrooms. Lucas kept a close watch for any sign of movement as he navigated through the kitchen. They ducked behind a counter when a chef stepped into the room, but when he turned his back, Lucas quickly escorted Beatrice through the next door.

"This is absurd," he hissed once they were just outside the door to the lounge.

"This is thrilling!" Beatrice exclaimed.

"Shh, do you want to be found out?"

With a giggle and covering her mouth, Beatrice said, "Maybe."

Lucas withdrew his hand from hers. "This is a bad idea. I can't believe I let you talk me into this."

"Oh, come on, Lucas. It beats sitting in that library, reading boring books."

"Books aren't boring. I love the library. I can be anywhere in the world with a good book."

Beatrice scoffed. "Honestly, you're such a bore."

"Then why did you want me to come with you?" he asked, confused.

In the low light, she blushed. "Because…you're the only other kid, and, well, you looked rather dashing in your suit."

Lucas' face warmed. He tugged at his collar. "Uh…oh."

Beatrice leaned in closer. Her breath hot on his face, she asked, "Lucas, have you ever kissed a girl?"

"What?" he nearly yelped. Lucas backed away a couple of inches, but a stream of light came through the crack between the door and the frame, and her eyes shone. She really did look pretty standing there.

Beatrice took his hands. "Aw, you're sweet. You're also shy."

Lucas was positively sweating now. He closed his eyes and thought, I might as well just get it over with!

Just as his lips brushed hers, the light brightened, and Lucas heard his mother exclaim, "What on earth?!"