Robert ran his hands over his musket, watching how the wooden body gleamed under the sun. He was under an oak tree. Howard was next to him and sat on a crate of weapons as he polished their guns. They would need it for their journey. The enemy could strike anytime.

A few horses strode majestically past them, a pack of steeds running along the green meadows in Robert's estate. He had built it a few years back and came here whenever he wanted to escape London's noise and disturbance.

"Howard," Robert said, taking a step out of the shade the tree provided, the first button of his white shirt open to reveal his chest. "I think I may be sick."

"Sick?" Howard asked, pausing with the cloth in his hand, a pistol in the other. "Whatever do you mean, My Lord?"

Robert sat on a crate of guns and Howard joined him after he had dropped the contents in his hands. Robert needed to understand what these feelings had meant. They were unusual.

"Whenever I'm around Ella, my heart beat races. When she's not around, I yearn to see her. Sometimes I even dream about her," Robert said, rubbing his thumb in the middle of his palm. "At times I would want to spend a full day with her if it was possible. When she isn't happy about something, I want to help her fix it." He glanced at Howard who had a look of shock in his dark eyes. "You see, I'm sick. I told you. If not, why would I be thinking about her constantly?"

Howard laughed and ran his hands down his face. "I never knew this day would come."

"This day?"

"The day that you would fall in love. And I most definitely didn't know it would be Miss Featherington," Howard pointed out, smiling.

"That's poppycock, Mr Lithstone and you know it," Robert said with a laugh. Did his friend even know what love meant? "Love isn't all those things. When you're in love with a woman, you're attracted to her body and the only thing you would ever think about doing with her is humping her."

Howard's face was the epitome of the word "flabbergasted." "My goodness, aren't you a damaged son of a bachelor?"

"I'm not damaged." Robert frowned. He was sure as hell that was what love meant. If that wasn't love, then why would he indulge in having sex with women he felt attracted to? They made him feel appreciated and full of worth. Though it wasn't last long because he always went for more.

"Christ!" Howard covered his mouth as he held back a laugh.

"What is your problem?"

"My problem is, that you think sexual desire is love."

"But it is."

"It is not."

"It is."

Howard stood up and ran his hand through his dark curls, his black coat flapping under the cool wind that ran through the meadow.

"How long have you had this philosophy on love?" Howard asked.

"Since I knew women's body parts," Robert said with a shrug.

"You poor child," Howard said with pity and it made Robert frown. What was wrong with him? No one had disputed his theory on love. But come to think of it, he had never told any woman he loved her before.

"Well if you're so good at love, tell me what it is?" Robert said, gesturing for Howard to explain.

"Love isn't being sexually attracted to someone. Though that comes as a package with it," Howard said sitting back. "Love doesn't have a definite meaning. But when you're in love with a woman, you want to protect her, care for her and make sure she's happy all the time."

"Without sexual desire?" Robert asked like it was the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

Howard rolled his eyes. "Sex is part of the package as I said. But most times, that comes after you and your lover understand each other and are willing to go the extra mile for each other too. Love is like a balance; you give and receive, she gives and receives. You both have to be each other's emotional support. You have to believe in their goals and if possible help them achieve them."

"Is this the kind of love you and your wife have?" Robert asked, dumbfounded. Who knew love had such an extensive list of characteristics?

"No matter how much that thick head annoys me, I would still die for her," Howard said with a smile.

Every single thing Howard said encompassed how Robert had been feeling lately for Ella. Was he in love with her? It was hard to dispute considering the facts being laid out. But was he willing to accept the fact that what he and Ella had was love? It could be that she didn't feel the same way.

He couldn't tell her. Ella wasn't going to accept him. Though she had said she would do anything for him, he highly doubted she was in love with him. No one could be in love with a rake.

It dawned on him that he had been using women, thinking that he was in love with them. That would explain why the self-gratification he got with them didn't last long.

What he felt with Ella was special. He wouldn't want to ruin it by telling her. She would think he wanted to sleep with her and move on to the next woman as he had always done.

So this was what love meant. He still found it hard to believe. He had thought it was all about physical attraction and the matters that went on under the sheets. He never knew about this. How would he know? He never had a father to teach him. And his mother mostly spent her time training Grace to be a proper lady.

While growing up he had heard that parents fell in love before they got married. He had never seen his mother and father exhibit what Howard had listed as features of being in love. His parents were too busy planning balls that he didn't think they would have time to support each other. Except when they were aiding each other to choose the perfect theme for a ball.

"All these happened after that bloody kiss," Robert muttered, combing his hands through his blonde hair and pacing to and fro outside the shade.

Howard narrowed his eyes. "Which kiss?"

"I kissed Ella."

"Blimey. When did this happen?"

"A few weeks ago and last night." Robert bit his lower lip. "And the night before that."

"Bloody hell," Howard said, holding the bridge of his nose. "I know Miss Featherington and I aren't the best of friends, but I care about her. My Lord, she isn't like those random ladies you use and dump. This is Ella Featherington, possibly the smartest lady I know. And she has a bright future, please don't ruin it by making the mistakes of your past."

"I would never do that to her."

Howard nodded in understanding. "I'm glad we're on the same page." He patted Robert's shoulder. "I know something that could help you understand love better."

"What is that?" Robert's blue eyes perked. Howard had explained it to him, but he needed an extensive description. He couldn't spend most of his life having his philosophy of love and then changing it under a day. He needed to be convinced deeply. Besides, if these symptoms of this love sickness were a sign of love, learning about it may help him understand how he felt for Ella.

"Every lady's favourite, Pride and prejudice."

"The book?"

"Aye, the book."

Robert didn't know how a novel was going to help him understand love better. He barely read novels. Most of the stories he knew were children's stories he read as a child. But he was going to give it a try. For his sake and Ella's sake.

"By the way," Robert said, walking back to the shade of the tree," don't forget to send Ella's letter to her home. That's the only way she'll be able to join us."

"Will do so," Howard said and continued polishing the weapons.