Mr James Davis stood in front of the window of the small parlour and let out a grunt as he rubbed his left arm. At five and forty, he was still a remarkable man, with lithe figure and features not yet marred by age. His light brown hair, which was similar to that of his sister's, was still untouched by silver, and the fine pair of green eyes still held a youthful twinkle whenever he was amused. Everyone had expected he would remarry after the death of his wife some thirteen years ago; to their disappointment however, the widower was not in the mind of remarrying, for it was apparent that his devotion was solely for his daughter, his treasured collection of books, and his horses.

A deft sportsman, Mr Davis had always been complemented of having a good seat on his mount, and although his nature was free of conceit he secretly took pride in his prowess that added to his appeal to some interested ladies. But the fancies of these ladies were not in any way gratified, for although the gentleman could display his unaffected charm in the crowd, he did not indulge in the mildest of flirtations. Every one in the neighbourhood liked him well enough; admired him for being an affectionate parent to Miss Caroline, sometimes almost to the point of being overprotective which had amused some, and exasperated others, especially his sister. "Why, he could almost tie dear Caro to a bedpost!" Mrs Winscott had once said.

A frown crossed his thick brows as he glimpsed a gig far ahead, rolling along the drive that led to the front door. Lost in his own reflections, he did not hear Miss Moore behind him. The duenna, comfortably deposited on a sofa, was engaged in setting chess pieces on the board. "Mr Davis, are you agreeable for another game?" she asked again, a little loudly this time.

"What? Oh! Beg your pardon, ma'am. Why, you've set it already. Well, if you are, I'm game as well!" He strolled back to his own seat opposite Miss Moore. "You're a mighty companion for a lonely man, ma'am," he said appreciatively, "but you're dashed too clever by half as an opponent! Still, one loss is no great deal, and I'm not ready to give up just yet."

This tribute made her flush with pleasure but said depreciatingly that indeed, it was all luck, and that her skill in the game was not much at par with either of Mr Davis or dear Miss Caroline.

Mr Davis had already slipped into concentration and moved a pawn forward, but at this he looked up. He said, with a tinge of pride to his voice: "My little Caro's as bright as two female brains merged into one, I grant her that. Why, she has had a lot of practice with her dear papa — not that your humble servant's boasting, ma'am, but there! Fact is fact!" He grinned, but it was soon wiped away from his face when his opponent captured his knight. "Drat it, never saw that," he muttered and concentrated on the game again.

Miss Moore gave a delighted giggle. "My dear sir, do not despair yet. I wonder if Miss Caro's going home for dinner? She's always invited by Mrs Wiltkin to dine with them when she visits. The good lady seems taken with her, I believe."

Mr Davis snorted and remarked irritably: "Taken with Caroline? 'Course she is! What with that ramshackle son of hers always staring like a moonling at my Caro since she alighted from the coach the day of her return, and Mrs Wiltkin bombarding me with all fustian questions and false solicitudes, it's plain as a pikestaff that that silly woman's planning to make my daughter hers. I'm dashed if it ain't the case!" He dragged his bishop half-way across the board and seize an unsuspecting pawn. It was not a satisfactory move, and his countenance did not alter from its frown.

"Oh, no! I think Edinson Wiltkin is a fine young man, if somewhat a little too spirited. However, we must give allowances for boys of his age are almost all like that, don't you agree? I remember my younger brother was too wild at that age too, and always getting into one trouble after another. There was one time — "

"Yes, yes, you told me so once," interposed Mr Davis hastily, lest the old woman would embark on yet another lengthy reminiscences. "Still, I don't like the boy for my daughter. Now, if he's spirited but not to the point of being rusticated from his school, I could make allowances for that. But young Wiltkin? Certainly not! That scapegrace cannot even keep himself still even for mere five minutes!"

Miss Moore sighed and launched her rook on the board. To be sure it was a pity that the boy should be a trifle rascally, however good-looking he was. Miss Caro, whose love for adventure almost rivaled his own, was always happy to tag along with him, a thing which her papa obviously disapproved. There was really no danger that the girl would eventually lost her heart to Edinson Wiltkin; if anything, she viewed him not so much a suitor as a playmate. Miss Moore was only thankful that her charge was not in the habit of stumbling in and out of love at every opportunity. She rather suspected that Miss Caro's young heart had already known pain, and made her tread cautiously in the matters of love.

"You may rest assured sir, that Mr Edinson is a mere friend. Poor Miss Caro! If only there's a lady of her age about here that she could be friends with! I'm sure she misses her London friends — heavens, what was that, I wonder?" exclaimed the duenna when a loud clattering rang from the front hall, then a scrambling sound. Moments later, a laughing Caroline appeared in the doorway, followed by a handsome young man with auburn locks and a pair of clear grey eyes, looking decidedly a disheveled scamp.

"So you're at it again!" Caroline said and bent to kiss her papa's cheek.

"I'd like to know what was that ruckus all about in my hall?" he demanded, looking sharply at the young man.

Caroline said hurriedly: "No, never frown so, papa! It was only that Eddie had upset your vases — unintentionally, of course! But no harm done, I assure you. By the bye, you promised to invite him to dinner, remember? Will you come back, Eddie?"

"Yes, do!" said Mr Davis grudgingly, unable to withstand his daughter's coaxing smile. "But don't appear at my table looking like a bedraggled baggage, mind!"

"That's very kind of you, sir," replied Mr Wiltkin with a careless smile, apparently not offended by this stricture. "I shall go home now and be back in an hour." With a careless bow, he departed.

Mr Davis chided his daughter: "And as for you, miss, you're looking no better than that rascally friend of yours! Go up and wash your face. You can rest until dinner time."

"But I'm not in the least tired, Papa. I'll go out for a walk after I finish my wash," she said, and darted off to the stairs. After a somewhat slapdash toilet, Caroline came down and went straight to the back of the house, then outside. Just off the west was a strip of battered fences which separated the whole ground of the house and the woods. The wooden gate opened with a small squeak, and she entered her favourite place. A strip of gravel path was almost inconspicuous underneath the grasses which had nearly reached her knees. Since there were uneven patches of ground, she tripped twice along the indiscernible lane and walked on towards the mound where hazels and elms were melding together. Sunbeams broke through the foliages of the trees, and Caroline felt the warm of the sun that bathed her cheeks.

The afternoon was glorious, and the peacefulness of the surroundings made her feel drowsy. She crossed a small clearing and reached the spot that she deemed her place of reverie. Spread out before her was a field of bluebells in full blooms and in the middle was an oak tree, its splayed branches and thick leaves provided a shade above.

Caroline eased herself between two large roots and looked about her pensively. More often than not, a small amount of her time had been spent in blissful solitude of this place. She'd been home for nearly a month now; no balls or soirees to attend every night, or any other gaieties that afforded her little sleep. It seemed that it had been another life, and she already missed her lovely friends in town, and the one who stood above all in her memory. How she had spent countless nights perched on the window seat in her room, staring at the stars, wondering how he went on with his life, remembering those short but nonetheless treasured moments of brief conversations, of walks in the park, of dancing in the ballrooms with his arm around her.

She felt a curious lump in her throat, and the tears threatening her eyes. Never had she imagined herself to be such a watering pot, but she supposed that even the most dispassionate of females would certainly have shed tears when suffering a heartache. Knees drawn up, she buried her face atop them and wept softly. The voice she'd been longing to hear wafted on her mind again, asking in a tender tone: "Why are you crying, Caro?"

"B-Because of you!" she answered lachrymosely between sobs, too immersed was she in her misery that she didn't hear the approaching footsteps. "Because I am so unhappy that it's too hard — " she gasped, belatedly realizing that the voice wasn't a mere figment of her distraught mind, but was in fact real. Stunned into disbelief, she gazed slowly from the shinning top boots that stood just a few paces away from her, up to a beloved face which had frequented her dreams. In a flash, Caroline was on her feet and stammered: "L-Lord Stokeford! H-How is it — why d-do you — what are you doing h-here?"

"That's too many questions, Caro," Stokeford ambled closer to her until he was only at arm's reach, but hesitated. "Are you not — pleased to see me?"

Blushing, Caroline rested her gaze on his boots and murmured: "P-Pleased? Yes I... think so. But why are you here? This is all too sudden! And — and how did you know this place?"

"You told me once about your home, remember?" he said, but fought the urge to touch her face. "As to why... well, I'm here to collect my love, and to say some things which have been long overdue."

"Y-Your love?" she faltered breathlessly. "I wonder what it is that you have to tell her?"

"I'll tell her," began Lord Stokeford, his eyes alight with tenderness, "that I've been such a gutless dolt not to take the chances, however small, to fight for my own happiness... How stupid to have even deluded myself with the belief that I could give her up easily and move on with my life. Most of all, I wanted so badly to tell her that — that since I've lost my heart already, by no stretch of imagination could I ever contrive to recover it again," he smiled then — a rueful, yet sweet smile that Caroline beheld for the first time, and it simply took her breath away. "And if there's one glimmer of hope that I still have the chance... I am willing to stake against all elements just to prove to her how much I love her."

Tears filled her eyes again, but this time it was because of the happiness that was slowly engulfing her. An emphatic sob escaped, and the smile she gave him was rather quivery. "Rest assured, my lord," she rasped, her heart on her eyes, "she needs no further convincing. To see you once again is — is enough," her voice inevitably broke, and with a muffled cry, she expressed the rest of her answer by throwing herself at the Earl of Stokeford's ready arms.

"Caro... My dearest girl," murmured his lordship tenderly, his strong arms pressing her closer to him, never wanting to let go this slip of a girl who'd captivated him body and soul like no other female ever had. "I've longed for this... so much..." he said fervently. In answer to this, his dearest girl turned up her face eagerly to receive his kiss.

Caroline had expected it to be gentle, like a feathery caress that would brush with aching sweetness across her lips. She was little prepared however, for the fiery and overwhelming force of his kiss, as though a lifetime of yearning and passion had been poured into it to make it all the more memorable. So intense, that she thought her lips would certainly bruised, and clung desperately on the lapels of his coat. Swept by a new and euphoric sensation, her shy responses had become as equally passionate.

Moments later, drowned in bliss, her hand entwined with his, Caroline rested her cheek on Stefan's already crumpled cravat. "So this is what it feels like," she sighed happily, wiggling closer to him. "I think I really like it."

Stefan bent to kiss her brow and asked: "What is, my little love?"

"To have someone to love and to hold like this. It's true what they write in novels, you know."

"Since I don't read romance, I'm afraid I cannot entirely concur," he said drily.

Caroline sat up and sent him a chiding look. She said: "And you think I'm one of those silly females who build up their romantic dreams through these silly romantic novels! Admit it, my lord— you are laughing at me!"

Lord Stokeford maintained a grave expression, but his blue eyes were undoubtedly twinkling at her own. "I do not laugh at you, love. Merely that I appreciate your — er, romantic soul. Had you been a female of unsentimental nature, I doubt I could have fallen madly in love with you."

She scanned his face and asked curiously: "I wonder when did you realize that?"

"I'd suspected the signs some time ago, though I'd thought it prudent to disregard them. You must understand that this... this is something new to me, Caro, and I own I was a little afraid. When Laurie told me he intended to ask for your hand, it was an unexpected blow to me. It had made me more aware of the fact that to see you with another... it just doesn't bear thinking at all." He caressed her soft cheek and went on: "But Laurie's a different case, and I was left with no option but to give way to his happiness. Perhaps it was the very first time that I'd felt I'd been robbed of something so precious. All the same, I know he truly cares for you, Caro. I've seen it, and to think that you are now in my arms and he, gone off with a broken heart... I couldn't just shake off the guilt very easily."

"How noble of you, my lord," whispered Caroline softy. "It all make sense to me now why at some point in time you'd been so difficult to reach out. But you need not be guilty, dearest. Laurie knows, and I think he understands what's between us."

"He knows? Good God!"

"Yes. Poor Laurie," she sighed, "I declare I felt utterly wretched to have refused his offer, but then I couldn't accept it when my affection is placed somewhere else, could I?"

"No, you most certainly could not. And it would have been I who'd feel very wretched had the case been reversed. Don't wiggle! You've ruined my cravat already, brat. What will my valet say, I shudder to think."

"But surely he wouldn't mind it very much if you tell him it was ruined because of my embrace?" she asked archly, dimples peeping.

"Minx!" He chuckled and kissed the tip of her little nose. "Let's start a more sensible talk, if you please. Tell me: how do you go on here?"

Caroline assured him that she went on very well, but admitted that she already missed her friends in town. At this, Stokeford's brows rose, and he asked: "Only your friends? What about your humble servant, ma'am?"

She let out a small giggle and said a little shyly: "I missed you, too. Terribly so! Did you visit the town, by the bye? Is everyone well?"

"Robert and Milborne are in very fine fettle. Far from being bored by the nearly-deserted Mayfair, the last time I saw them they seemed to enjoy themselves hugely with each other's company. I rather suspect I'll find myself replaced by Milborne as boon companion to our dear Viscount in no time."

Caroline looked up at him expectantly, her face lit up. "And why is that? Do you foresee something that will change about you in the near future, perhaps?"

The implication of this speech was not lost to Stokeford. His beloved was waiting for him to ask the question, one which he had no power to declare at the moment. He was yet to deal with his mother about his proposed betrothal to Marianne, and was not certain if Caroline got wind of it. Now was the time to have a clean breast of everything and he hoped that she'd understand. The last thing he wanted to commit was to inflict pain on her again, and in a brief interval he struggled desperately to find the right words to lessen the blow.

Observing his hesitation, Caroline brought his warm hand on her cheek. "What is it, my love? I can sense that your mind is in abustle."

Stokeford fixed her a solemn stare. "Caro, there's something I want to tell you. Right now, no matter how I dearly love to propose to you the moment seems unpropitious because — "

"Because you are betrothed to Marianne?" she asked quietly, but deep within she was beginning to feel crushed. "Is it true then? Is everything between you settled?"

"No! That is, I haven't agreed to this mad scheme of my mother. It places me in a most damnable position," he declared bitterly. "Caro, who told you this? Don't tell me it is now circulating around the town?"

She hung her head, not wanting to show him her painful expression. "Oh, I am not sure. Your mother had told me about it. I daresay y-you will have to agree to it in the end, because it's your duty and — and Marianne is your cousin after all. Whereas I— I am a mere country miss with no — "

"Don't talk absurdity!" commanded his lordship sharply and grasp her chin, forcing her to look up at him again. "I love you, Caroline, and I promise to come up some way to get us out of this coil. Will you believe in me, love?"

As if these words held magic, a surge of happiness came rushing back to her and she said glowingly. "Yes! Oh, yes, Stefan, I do."

Stokeford smiled down at her radiant face. "Good. Now, you'll have to tell me what else did Lady Stokeford say to you."

"There's really nothing to tell," Caroline fibbed, and brushed away a fleck of lint on the shoulder of his coat. "Her ladyship had only said a piece of her mind, which was only understandable, given that she's fond of your cousin and doesn't want him to feel hurt." Seeing his thunderous expression, she added hastily: "We shall not give it another thought, please. I do not mind what your mother had said to me — at least, not anymore, so it need not bother you, too," she dropped a quick kiss on his pursed lips. His countenance relaxed a bit, but the frown lingered. "Moreover," Caroline went on, "this is our first special moment together, and I'll not allow you to spoil it by your black looks my lord!"

This finally drew a crooked smile from Stokeford. He said: "Forgive me. Of course I don't want to spoil it. However, your happiness is of utmost importance to me now, and I will not allow anyone — not even my own relations, to hurt you."

Caroline smiled at him tenderly, love shinning in her green eyes. "Words won't crush me easily, my dearest love. Every hurdle is pittance now that you are by my side."

* * * * * *