(From A Mischievous Matchmaker)

...The man regarded her with baleful disbelief. “Surely you inquire as to a child’s name when you take it in.”

“No, sir. Never. Them as don’t want ’em, don’t want no names made known, if you see what I mean.”

He scowled. “Very well, then, which of these”—he nodded at the three approximately year-old babies penned in a corner of the room—“are females?”

“Why all of them, sir. They all come to me in the same week, the three of ’em. Calls ’em One, Two, Three, I does, after the way they come.”

“Who brought each child?”

Elnora shook her head. She had already been through this with Mrs. Pratt. He was unlikely to learn anything more than she had about this grievous muddle, and she had learned nothing at all.

“Floyd,” said Mrs. Pratt, “a man what knows I take in babies. Floyd gets ’em from here and there, but he ain’t around for ye to talk to. ’Twouldn’t be no use if he was. Kinda simple, Floyd is.”

The stranger gave her one last scathing look, then turned to stare down at the three babies. When he did, Elnora, threading her way carefully between the piles of rubbish on the floor, walked toward him.

She had already examined the little girls and had found them so shockingly begrimed it had been impossible even to determine the actual color of their hair. One had blue eyes, another brown, and the third the most beautiful green eyes Elnora had ever seen.

Though not completely certain—she had never set eyes on Dulcie’s baby—she thought the green-eyed child must be the right girl since, after all, Dulcie had green eyes. Not the clear bright shade of the baby’s, Dulcie’s were more hazel, actually, but green nonetheless.

Just as she opened her mouth to make the gentleman aware of her presence, he spoke without turning around.

“I want the child with the green eyes.”

“No!” Elnora cried.

The man whirled to stare at her.

“That girl is my friend’s baby,” Elnora said. “I came here for her and I intend to take her with me.”

“No, you shall not.” He spoke coldly. “I have decided on the child with the green eyes. Just who are you and where did you come from?” he demanded.

“My name is Miss Elnora Prescott and I arrived here before you.”

He nodded frostily. “Lord Kendrick,” he said, introducing himself.

She succeeded in making her brief nod even icier than his. “Since I made my decision first, my lord, the child is clearly mine to take.”

“You are wrong, madam. Do you claim to recognize the child as belonging to”—he paused, looking her up and down in an insolent manner that infuriated her—“your friend?”

Did he mean to imply she was lying about having a friend? Suggesting the child might be hers? How dare he! Elnora trembled with rage...

(From Music Of The Heart)

...His lips left hers. “We cannot keep on with this.” He spoke against her throat, a strange and exciting hoarseness in his voice. “At least I cannot. For if I do…”

“But I want to,” she murmured.

“As do I. You have no idea how desperately.” He held her away from him. “Just as this is a special place, Juliet, what we feel for one another is special. So much so that I must bring you safely home, just as I promised I would.”

She bit her lip. “Must you?”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Unfortunately, yes. You are the sweetest, most delectable young lady in all of England and not taking advantage of you is most damned difficult.”

At that moment she wanted nothing more than for him to do just that—take advantage of her. She was not entirely certain exactly what it might entail, but she wanted, she needed, to have him go on holding her in his arms and kissing her.

He pulled her down onto the bench and peeled off one of her gloves, finger by finger. When her hand was bare, he brought her palm to his mouth, kissed it and then curled her fingers over the kiss.

“Save that until I return so that you can give it back to me then,” he said.

“Yes,” she whispered, barely able to speak for the tumult within her. The warmth of his lips on her palm had traveled all the way down to the tips of her toes.

“I wish it were possible to take you to Portsmouth with me so we could spend a few more hours together but, of course, that is completely out of the question.”

“You are going to fight under General Wellington,” she said, repeating what his aunt had told her. She was unable to voice her fear that he might be injured in battle, and she refused to entertain even for a moment the idea that he might be killed. “You will come back,” she said fiercely.

“Certainly. I have always led a charmed life. And my luck has definitely not deserted me—did I not meet you this very evening?” He spoke with such assurance that she could not help but believe him.

“I trust you will become better acquainted with Aunt Elaine while I’m gone,” he added.

“I would like to. Perhaps the chance will come when Grandmama and I return from visiting her cousin in the Hebrides. We leave in the morning.”

“So you are going away, too.” He caught her hand again, pressing it between both of his. “Please believe me when I say I have never felt this way before. I cannot and will not say more, the circumstances being what they are.”

“I shall never permit another man to kiss me,” she said solemnly. “Only you.”

His laugh was tender. “How sweetly young you are, after all.”

“I am not a schoolgirl!” she exclaimed indignantly.

“I did not mean to imply you were. What I meant was that your innocence charms me, as does everything else about you. But it would be unfair of me, as a cavalryman, to hold you to any promise. Except one.”

Anticipation tingled through her. “What may that promise be, pray tell?”

“Without fail, you must attend next year’s Valentine’s Ball. Attend, and look for me there. I will do all in my power to be at that ball and, when we meet there, we shall take up where we, regretfully, must now leave off.”