n the course of one week, Stefan proved to be a very attentive suitor, if not, as Caroline mentally pointed out, ardent enough to proclaim to all of London his designs upon Sophie’s person. Still, the promenades on Hyde Park and the frequent visits had much to say. Caroline had once disclosed to him some of her cousin’s favorite things, and among those she had prattled on, Stefan took most interest on Sophie’s favorite flowers. It came as no surprise then, that on the occasion of his next visit, he had in his hand a bouquet of beautiful (and quite expensive) tulips, and upon presenting the dainty bundle, Sophie was quite beyond delighted and Caroline had let out a girlish squeal.

“Why, thank you, my lord. These are quite lovely,” Sophie had smiled sweetly at him and eyed lovingly the bouquet. “How could you have guess that tulips are my favorite?”

Before Stefan could even respond, Caroline had announced, “It’s only that Lord Stokeford is quite excellent in choosing flowers. Well, isn’t that charming?”

Despite the placid countenance he was sporting, Stefan could not prevent the color rising on his cheeks, as he wasn’t quite used of being complemented by a lady. In his case, it was rarity. Caroline might have spied those faint tints, because she had offered him a secret smile.

Saturday night saw Stefan at White’s, enjoying his glass like he had never been before. Thus far, he was pleased by the events these past days which rendered him a vague sense of confidence that he could somehow be an able candidate for Sophie’s hand. Not that he was readying himself for matrimony; God knows he definitely wasn’t. But then that simple desire for a walk or conversation, and perhaps a companionship with the lady he had come to like wasn’t quite too much, was it?

Later, Robert appeared in front of his table, looking vaguely amused as he settled himself across Stefan. “With that look on your face I gather your visit on Miss Winscott was met with success?”

“I suggest you stop referring to it with success. You make it sound like an inauspicious pursuit rather than a friendly visit,” Stefan grunted.

Robert let out a throaty chuckle. “Begging your pardon, but I dare not concede on the latter. It is anything but friendly.”

“Perhaps you have better things to do than ruining my mood.”

“Oh, so sorry,” he replied, though looking less than repentant by that devilish grin spread across his face. “Believe me, I am not up to ruining your mood, as I see that it soars high as Windsor Castle. How is our fair Miss Winscott?”

“She fares quite fine.”

“And quite lovely as ever. No doubt your visits have turned into regular occurrence.”

Stefan sent a scowl on his friend, but the latter only smiled slyly. “Come now, Stefan. For a man helplessly in love, you’re surely doing a poor job.”

Helplessly in love? He shook his head mentally. Surely he wasn’t that besotted, was he?

“And Caroline? How is she?”

The very mention of Caroline snapped him in full attention. Narrowing his eyes into slits, Stefan said, “And since when had you taken the liberty of calling her by her first name, might I ask?”

Robert shrugged and helped himself with his brandy. “Since we had agreed upon the notion. Precisely, by the time you were quite occupied with your romantic pursuit.”

Odd, but he felt something inexplicable within him, more akin to… disappointment? Annoyance? Drat it; it was certainly something in between the two. “Robert,” he murmured, not without a hint of menace, “Have you any designs on Miss Davis?”

It was all Robert could do to keep himself from toppling backwards. “Good God, Stefan. If I had not known better, I would have thought that you sounded almost like a jealous green boy.”

Stefan finally impaled him with a withering glare.

“And to answer your imperious question, no, I don’t have any designs on Miss Davis,” Robert continued. “And if I have, I assure you my intentions would be most certainly honorable,” he said a little defensively.

Stefan felt uncharacteristically relieved, and for the life of him, he did not know why. Perhaps the fact that Robert is a rake and that Caroline is too much an innocent were enough to support his objection on the match. Not that he put Robert in such low regard when it came right down to women, but still…

“I say gentlemen, may I join you?”

With a start, both men looked up and saw a handsome young man with chestnut brown hair and a pair of blue-grey eyes. He turned to Stefan and grinned. “Hullo, mon cousin. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Laurence?” Stefan blinked a couple of times, as if to clear his vision.

“Well, if this isn’t a surprise!” Robert exclaimed with delight. “Come, young chap, and sit with us. We’ve missed you long enough!”

Mr. Laurence Beaumont took his seat and looked back and forth to the two men whom he considered as his closest friends. “Well, I think I’ve missed you both, too. It’s nice to be back again.” Stretching his legs under the table, he reclined on his seat comfortably.

“When did you arrive, Laurie?” Stefan asked as soon as he was able to cease gaping at his young cousin whom he hadn’t seen for a year now.

“Just this afternoon.”

“And how was Paris?” Robert inquired. “I hope you haven’t broken as many hearts as you did when you left London.”

Laurie grinned despite himself. “Really, Robert. You’re making it sound awful.”

“Nothing but the truth, my boy,” he chuckled.

And indeed, it was. Though son of the second son of an Earl, Laurence Beaumont was in possession of heavy purse and superior countenance that made him quite the prefect prey for husband-hunting ladies and their scheming Mamas. They swarmed around him like bees in a sweet bud, sighing and giggling and hanging on his every word. By all means, he was an exemplar of a young rake, an accomplished charmer, an epitome of lady’s man.

“And how are you faring, Stefan?” Laurie said, turning to his cousin. “No prospects of matrimony yet?”

Something in his eyes and the way his mouth twisted in that familiar devilish smile made Stefan felt a bit of nostalgia. Only two years his junior, Laurie had been less a cousin than a younger brother to him, and it was not until this moment that he realized how much he’d missed his cousin.

“I’m afraid,”—he cleared his throat—“that is, ah, seems out of question for now.” Though it wasn’t entirely a lie, Stefan felt like squirming under a weight of discomfiture.

Across the table, he heard Robert snorted. With raised brows, Laurie told him, “I don’t know, but I have this vague feeling that my cousin is not telling the truth,” he teased.

“I have it in best authority that he isn’t.” Robert sent a dark look to Stefan. “Because he is spending the entire week paying calls to one lovely Miss Winscott. Well, if that isn’t an indication of probable matrimony, I don’t know what else one would think.”

Stefan stifled a groan. Trust Robert and his loquaciousness and soon the beans would be spilling.

But Laurie seemed genuinely elated with the piece of news, as he chuckled heartily and reached out to pat him on the shoulder with brotherly affection. “Dear cousin, I will let this transgression of not saying the truth pass, as I am very much happy for you.” His expression turned a bit pensive. “Although I confess I haven’t heard this Miss Winscott before.”

“No, you haven’t. I believe you were already fleeing to Paris before the Season last year. And I’ve just been introduced to her earlier this month.”

“By me, of course,” put in Lord March.

Laurie nodded contentedly. “So that explains it, then. May I have the honor of an introduction as well? Why, my curiosity piques to such impossible degree about this fair lady who has finally captured your heart.”

A non-committal grunt came as reply.

“Oh, and she has an adorable younger cousin as well,” Robert leaned on his seat and added with a devious grin, “In case you might be interested.”

“Younger cousin, eh?” A slow, rakish smile spread across Laurie’s face, one which surely made those silly debutantes’ knees to buckle. “Blimey, I’ve just returned in an exceedingly good time.”

There were so many times that Stefan wanted to lodge his fist on his friend’s face, but nothing could ever surpass the urge to do it before than now. Robert might be an incorrigible rake, but Laurie was even…

Worse.

And he refused to ransack his brain to support that singular adjective.

Clearing his throat and giving an enormous effort to make his expression even, Stefan asked, “You might come with us to Almack’s Wednesday next week. You do miss London balls, yes?”

“Immensely,” Laurence nodded jauntily.

“My,” Stefan heard his friend murmured. “I just hope we won’t be plagued with a battalion of petticoats the moment we make an entry.”

* * * * * *

Unfortunately, Robert’s hope had been in vain.

The moment the three gentlemen entered the door of Almack’s Assembly Rooms, garbed in their elegant evening clothes, the gleefully surprised ladies—ranging from debutantes to wrinkling old dowagers—came rushing towards them like piles being pulled by a magnet. After all, the most sought-after Mr. Laurence Beaumont, fresh from his long recess in France, had finally materialized in London society again. Robert watched the unfolding scene with amused countenance, bestowing regal bows to the ladies who then turned with ill-concealed interest to their prey, some scraping for introductions and others for cheery greetings in a coquettish manner. Stefan, whose countenance he kept straight, gave civil nods to several of them, and skittered away as soon as possible.

Across the ballroom, he spotted Sophie at one corner, surrounded with fawning bucks. With several longs strides, he reached her, glaring first at the young fop who seemed to touch her elbow every now and then. The rest of her admirers began dispersing with alacrity.

Sophie, who had been devising for a way to escape the flock of beaux and their endless boasting, was quite grateful of Stefan’s arrival. “Good evening, my lord,” she greeted with her usual sweet demeanor.

“Good evening, Miss Winscott.” His brows puckered as he glanced around them. He cleared his throat before saying, “I see that Miss Davis isn’t around…”

“Oh,” Sophie broke into a wide grin. “If you were looking for her, she’s at the refreshment table.”

Something in the tone of her voice left Stefan slightly bemused, but preferred to completely ignored it as he roamed his gaze around until it finally fell to the small figure of Caroline, who was at the moment conversing with a red-haired girl. A moment later, she drained her glass of punch, dragged her companion farther along the table, then picked a canapé and gobbled the whole thing in a trice.

Stefan couldn’t help but wonder how she could keep being petite. “Good gad, she certainly eats a lot,” he muttered as he watched Caroline shoved another piece of tasty morsel into her mouth.

“Did you say something, my lord?”

He turned to Sophie who was watching him intently with an amused expression.

“Er, nothing,” he stammered. “Shall we dance, Miss Winscott?”

"Certainly. I’ve been waiting for you the whole time to ask me,” she teased as Stefan led her to the dance floor.

Meanwhile, Caroline still lingered on the refreshment table, having eaten countless of canapés which were laid down at her disposal. Her friend, one Miss Julie Sutherton, a red-headed girl with a pleasant face and plump body, had already chided her for the second time around.

“Really, Caroline. Must you eat like that?”

Frowning, Caroline replied with a touch of sarcasm, “Why, is there another way to eat canapé? If there was, I’m sure I am never acquainted with the idea.”

Julie rolled her eyes. “No. The point is you’ve eaten ten canapés already, and it’s quite unbecoming for a lady to eat in such voracious manner,” she declared primly.

“Have I already eaten ten?” Caroline mumbled dazedly. “Well, that doesn’t signify at all, as I am quite famished. You should eat too, you know.”

Her friend shook her head and glanced ruefully at her body. “No, I think I had enough. Mama says a lady should be very conscious about her figure. Last year I weighed almost five stones already,” she said with a rueful sigh.

Caroline snorted, plucked yet another canapé from the tray and brought it to her mouth, saying, “Nonsense. A canapé won’t be likely to add a pound in you—,” she was cut off when the food had clogged on her throat.

She made a choking sound and coughed, grasping her slim neck while Julie stared at her alarmingly. “Oh, my heavens! I already told you to desist!” she glanced at the room frantically and was ready to bolt for the coming footman who was holding a tray of glasses filled with champagne had it not been for the masculine voice that made her stopped and caught both their attention.

“May I be of some help, ladies?”

A startlingly handsome young man appeared from out of nowhere. In his outstretched hand was a glass of lemonade which Caroline snatched immediately and drained its contents while Julie’s dumbstruck eyes were fastened on the newcomer.

“Thank you, kind sir!” exclaimed Caroline gratefully as soon as she was recovered with the trifling mishap. “You’ve just saved my life!”

The gentleman chuckled softly, causing her heart to flutter a bit. There was something oddly familiar about him, though she was certain she hadnever seen him before. His brown hair was tinged with red in the glowing candlelight and his eyes were the vague color between cerulean and grey. He was handsome and his smile was quite melting.

Caroline glanced at her friend, who was apparently being struck by Cupid’s arrow, judging by the dazed look etched on her face.

“I’ve been waiting for the day to hear someone tell that to me, as I find myself always wanting the part of being a hero, although,” he leaned forward, his eyes twinkling devilishly, “I have not expected that my feat would be as menial as to save a lady’s throat from an offensive piece of canapé.”

She blushed and laughed at his humor. “But I don’t think it is menial at all. I was almost out of breath a while ago,” her dark brows furrowed a little. “That was really kind of you sir. Although I must say we haven’t been introduced yet.”

“Your servant, ma’am”, he bowed graciously and smiled, “Mr. Laurence Beaumont.”

In return, Caroline bobbed a curtsy. “I am Miss Caroline Davis. It’s a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Beaumont.” Suddenly, she felt a finger jabbing her rib cage with considerable force. She turned to her friend who was momentarily forgotten through the whole exchange.

“Oh, and this is Miss Julie Sutherton,” she hastily added, almost like an afterthought. Laurence bowed to the other girl as well without diminishing his charm. Julie blushed deeply, feeling incapable of words at the moment.

“Laurie!” A voice called from nearby. Laurence swung around and saw Robert approaching them. “You fiend! To leave me in such garrulous company without even—oh, well, if this isn’t Miss Davis!”

Caroline smiled brightly at the newcomer. “Good evening, my lord!”

“Good evening to you. I’ve just scrape through those whizzing matrons who were quite inclined to trap me under their clutches. Tedious lot, all of them. Can’t say I wish to marry one of their simpering daughters who can’t even squeak something of a substance. Well, I say it’s a relief to find you, Miss Davis. There’s someone I wish to introduce to you—” Robert’s blabbering stopped short, his face suddenly deadpan. He glanced at the amused face of Laurie to the blinking Caroline then back and forth, as though he was watching a tennis match.

“You’re saying?” Laurie prodded.

Robert, recovering from his trance, broke into a wide grin. “I see that there’s no need to make an introduction between the two of you.”

“What do you mean?” Caroline asked. “Are you acquainted with Mr. Beaumont?”

“Very much,” he replied and turned to Laurie. “Where’s your cousin?”

“I believe I saw him dancing earlier. With her lady love, I assume.”

“Come, let us find them.” Robert was already ushering them forward when Caroline looked at him with knitted brows.

“Is there anything amiss? I’m sure Mr. Beaumont’s cousin only wishes to see the both of you.”

Robert chuckled. “Why, Miss Davis, I’m sure he would be glad to see the three of us together!” Caroline’s countenance sank further into deep confusion.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” he told her wryly, “Laurie’s cousin is none other than Stefan!”