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silently blessed Raphael Dalton for his safe harbor.
    “As for me?” Brenna said. “My dear, sweet, deluded Eric, it wasn’t ‘handsome’ the men were pursuing, and they weren’t exactly ‘wooing’ in the sense you think. I’m too much of a lady to say what they were after, but I’m cursed with an appearance that promises more than ‘handsome’ does.”
    “Blessed, more like,” he said, closing his eyes again. “You’ll understand when the right fellow appears.”
    He has, twice, she thought.
    It was as if her brother heard the thought, because he quickly added, “It’s the future I’m thinking about. Yes, you’ve got looks, Bren. More than you’ve a right to, the way you take care of yourself. But time’s passing.”
    “Thank you for reminding me,” she said sweetly. “But no and no. Fair’s fair, Eric. Your friend Rafe is being gallant. But he doesn’t want or need me.”
    He nodded. There was nothing more to say, and besides, he was suddenly too weary to say another thing. Too sad about it, too. After all, she was right. Rafe didn’t want or need her—and he’d noticed she didn’t say she didn’t want Rafe.
     
    “My lady’s not receiving visitors this morning,” Annabelle’s butler told Rafe after scanning the visiting card Rafe handed him.
    “Right,” Rafe said. “Understood. But tell me if it’s just this visitor she can’t receive.”
    “I couldn’t say, m’lord,” the butler answered.
    “That bad, eh?” Rafe asked. He’d been prepared for this. He reached into his pocket and took out a note, and a golden coin. He gave both to the butler. The coin disappeared into the butler’s own pocket immediately. Then he stared at the note.
    “See that Lady Annabelle gets that, would you?” Rafe said.
    The butler nodded. “But I might say? The lady’s mama is more agitated than the lady Annabelle is. And her papa has refused to listen to the fuss at all.”
    Well, he wouldn’t, would he? Rafe thought. Not a subject he’d want to get into, considering the ladybird he’s been with for the past twenty years . “Then please take her the note,” Rafe said.
    It was a simple message. It said,
    I’ll be back tomorrow morning. If you think the thing through, you’ll realize it was as innocent as I said. I’d hardly be fool enough to invite you in otherwise, would I? In hopes of your understanding, and apologizing for any difficulties, I remain
    Yr Svt,
Dalton
    He was not yet at the point of signing a note to her “Rafe.” He hoped to be, soon. “I’ll be back tomorrow. I’d be grateful if you’d let the lady Annabelle know that. Good morning.”
    “Good morning, m’lord,” the butler said, gently closing the door in Rafe’s face.
    Rafe walked away, deep in thought. She’d see him tomorrow, or the next day or the next. He didn’t give up easily. He couldn’t. He wasn’t guilty of what she’d thought. Someday they’d laugh about this. He wished he could smile now. So close, he’d been that close to beginning his courtship in earnest. Now he had to start over again. He picked up his head and his pace and strode on. He could do that. He was very good at campaigning, and impervious to insult. After all, he’d plenty of experience with both.
    He made a few stops on his way home, although it took him a roundabout route. He placed an order at a nearby restaurant, stopped a milkmaid he passed in the street and left an order with her. Then he visited an employment agency several streets away. It was late afternoon when he got back to hisown house again. He went up the stair to Eric’s room and halted at the door.
    “Ah, Lord Dalton,” the doctor said, straightening from where he’d been bent over Eric’s bed. “No, don’t worry,” he added at Rafe’s startled expression, “our patient hasn’t suffered a relapse. I found time to see him earlier than I’d thought. In fact, he’s doing very well. These tropical fevers take the heart out of a man, but now he’s