Page 37 of The Duelist for the Ton
“Call me Portia,” came the reply, and the two women approached the water’s edge.
“Don’t stray too far, Angela,” Stephen said.
“Leave her be, colonel,” Lady Staines said, approaching him. “Portia’s sensible enough, for all her brother says. She’ll make sure your sister comes to no harm.”
He offered his arm, and she took it, her cheeks blooming. Did she recall the last time they promenaded together in the park—when he’d offered his hand, believing himself in love?
She glanced toward the rest of the party, but her husband was in conversation with Foxton while Whitcombe and his duchess had eyes for none but each other.
“You must forgive me, colonel,” she said.
“Whatever for?”
Her color deepened and she let out a sigh.
“There’s naught to forgive, Lady Staines,” he said. “In fact, I ought to thank you for breaking our…” He hesitated as she drew in a sharp breath. “I mean…you had the foresight to understand that continuing on the path we’d set ourselves would have led to contentment at best, but ultimately unhappiness. You did us both a service—and you suffered more than I. But in the end, you were rewarded for your bravery.”
She blinked, and her eyes glistened with moisture. “You are too good, colonel,” she said. “I could never have hoped to deserve a man such as you.”
“We all deserve someone to make us happy, Lady Staines.”
“Then,” she said, glancing toward the two women by the water, “my greatest wish is that you’ll find the happiness that I have found for myself—the happiness that you deserve.”
“Mama, Mama!” a voice cried, and a child of five or six years approached them at a run, followed by a young woman in a pale-blue gown.
“Master Gabriel, a little slower, please, or you’ll tumble over!”
“Ah,myhappiness,” Lady Staines said.
The child tripped forward and fell onto the grass. But, unlike most children who wailed with petulance, he leaped up and continued forward, laughing as he barreled into Lady Staines and wrapped his arms around her skirts.
The young woman reached them, panting. “Master Gabriel, careful of your mama’s gown.”
Lady Staines glanced at her skirts and the smudge of mud on the fabric. “Not again!” she said, and the boy’s smile disappeared. “Never mind. I’m sure it’ll wash out, Flora. Gabriel can help—won’t you, my darling?”
The boy nodded, then turned his expressive blue gaze toward Stephen.
“And who might you be, young sir?” Stephen said.
Lady Staines’s eyes took on a look of wariness. The gossips had done their work—almost everyone in Society knew that Gabriel was a natural child.
Foxton, who’d been deep in conversation with Staines, cast his gaze over the boy, a slight sneer on his lips.
“This is my son,” Juliette said. “Gabriel Staines. Gabriel, my love, this is Colonel Reid.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Mr. Staines,” Stephen said, offering his hand. The boy stared at it, then looked back up at him.
“Are you asoldier?”
“Aye.”
“You must be terribly brave.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Oh yes youare,” Gabriel said, his eyes shining with admiration. “Mama says that soldiers are the bravest men in the world. They do what they do so that everybody in England is safe. That’s what you said, Mama, was it not?”
“Yes, my darling,” Lady Staines said, stroking the boy’s head.
