Chapter 1: Page 2

They were on their way to a house party at Helmhurst,

the country estate of Lord Kinneas's cousin, Squall

Leonhart, to celebrate the baron's betrothal. The

culmination of the gathering was to be a splendid

masquerade ball. Kinneas had accepted the invitation

eagerly, hoping the romantic atmosphere might make

Selphie more receptive to the notion of him as a lover

and a husband.

When she had returned to England recently after a year

abroad, Kinneas had fallen in love all over again, for she

had matured into the clever, vivacious, beautiful woman

he'd always known she would. Exultant that his time had

come at last, he'd been crushed to discover she had no

wish to encourage his romantic attentions. Nor ever to

wed him.

"Why, it means Lord Leonhart has met a special lady and

fallen in love with her, I hope." Selphie's gaze strayed

out the carriage window to drink in the lush hedgerows

of England's heartland. The wistful look on her delicate

features made Kinneas ache to hold her. "I am so happy for

him, poor man, after what happened to him during the

war, and how cruel everyone has been since."

She glanced back at Kinneas again, an unexpected glint of

steel in her dreamy blue-green eyes. "No one who called him

Lord Lucifer in my hearing was ever fool enough to do it

a second time!"

Kinneas laughed, in spite of his burdened heart. That was

one of the things he'd always loved about Selphie — her

spirit, her loyalty and her kind heart. Though it was on

account of those latter admirable qualities that he

dared not show her the true depth of his feelings. If

she knew of his dogged devotion, she would do anything

to keep from hurting him. Even if that meant wedding him

against her inclination. He cared for her happiness far

too much to let that happen.

But perhaps the exposure to his cousin's happy betrothal

would make her reconsider, and give him the smile or

word of encouragement he had craved for so long.

Lord Kinneas had the kindest eyes, and the saddest,

too. Selphie had always thought so. Even as a young girl

she had sought to draw him out, to make him laugh and

enjoy himself a little. Though otherwise the very best

of men, he had always been too shy and too solemn.

"I wonder how Lord Leonhart came to meet this Miss

Heartilly?" she mused. "I heard he never goes anywhere,

and then only in the dead of night."

She remembered Squall Leonhart as he had been before

Waterloo. "The Handsomest Beau in Britain" everyone had

called him then. Selphie had heartily agreed, though

she'd always thought Lord Kinneas's face had more

character. She hoped her own face would not betray any

aversion when she met the baron again and saw the black

mask with which he concealed his war wounds.