While she placed her twelve circular white counters on the twelve black squares nearest her, Victoria stole a thoughtful glance at the tail, elegant, gray-haired man whom she was rapidly coming to love like a true uncle. He had looked especially handsome tonight at dinner in his well-tailored dark jacket as he laughed at their childhood stories and even contributed a few of his own, but now he seemed preoccupied and worried. “Are you feeling unwell, Uncle Charles?” she asked, studying him as he placed his twelve black counters on the black squares closest to him.

“No, nothing of the sort,” he assured her, but within the first five minutes of play, Victoria had jumped three of his counters and captured them.

“I don’t seem to be able to concentrate on the game,” he admitted when she jumped his fourth.

“Let’s talk instead, then,” Victoria suggested gently.

When he agreed with a relieved smile, Victoria sought for a tactful way to discover what was troubling him. Her father had been a great advocate of the theory that people should talk out the things that bothered them—particularly people with weak hearts, because doing so often relieved the sort of inner stress that could bring on another attack. Recalling that Jason had been with Charles just before she arrived to play draughts, Victoria seized on his lordship as the most likely cause of Charles’s distress. “Did you enjoy yourself at dinner?” she began with forced casualness.

“Tremendously,” he said, looking as if he meant it completely.

“Do you think Jason did?”

“Good heavens, yes. Very much. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I couldn’t help noticing that he didn’t join in when we were all telling tales of our youth.”

Charles’s gaze slid away from hers. “Perhaps he couldn’t recall any amusing tales to tell us.”

Victoria paid scant attention to that answer; she was racking her brain for a better way to bring the discussion around to Charles. “I thought perhaps he was displeased with something I said or did and came to you just now to discuss it.”

Charles looked at her again, this time with a smile sparkling in his hazel eyes. “You’re worried about me, my dear, is that it? And you’d like to know if something is troubling me?”

Victoria burst out laughing. “Am I as transparent as that?”

Sliding his long fingers over hers, he squeezed her hand. “You are not transparent, Victoria; you are wonderful. You care about people. I look at you and I feel hope for the world. Despite all the pain you have suffered in these last months, you still notice when an old man looks tired, and you care.”

“You aren’t old at all,” she protested, admiring the way he looked in his evening clothes.

“Sometimes I feel a great deal older than I am,” he said with a halfhearted attempt at humor. “Tonight is one of those nights. But you have cheered me up. May I tell you something?”

“By all means.”

“There have been times in my life when I wished for a daughter, and you’re exactly what I always imagined she would be.”

A lump of tenderness swelled in Victoria’s throat as he continued quietly, “I watch you sometimes when you are strolling in the gardens or talking to the servants, and my heart fills with pride. I know that must seem odd, since I had nothing to do with making you what you are, but I feel that way nonetheless. I feel like shouting to all the cynics in the world: ‘Look at her, she is life and courage and beauty. She is what the Lord had in mind when he gave the first man his mate. She will fight for what she believes in, defend herself when she is being wronged—and yet she will accept a gesture of apology for that wrong and forgive it without rancor.’ I know you’ve forgiven Jason more than once for his treatment of you.

“I think all those things, and then I think to myself, what can I give her to show her how much I care for her? What sort of gift does a man give a goddess?”

Victoria thought she saw the sheen of tears in his eyes, but she couldn’t be certain because her own eyes were stinging with them.

“There now!” he said with a self-conscious laugh as he squeezed her hand fiercely tight, “I will soon have us weeping all over the draughts board. Since I have answered your question, will you answer one of mine? What do you think of Jason?”

Victoria smiled nervously. “He’s been generous to me,” she began with caution, but Charles waved her words aside. “That isn’t what I meant. I mean, what do you think of him personally? Tell me the truth.”

“I—I don’t think I understand what you’re asking me about.”

“Very well, I’ll be more specific. Do you find him handsome?”

Victoria gulped back an astonished giggle.

“Most women seem to think he’s extremely attractive,” Charles prodded, smiling—rather proudly, Victoria thought. “Do you?”

Recovering from her astonishment at his line of questioning, Victoria nodded, trying not to look as embarrassed as she felt.

“Good, good. And would you agree he is very ... er ... manly?”

To Victoria’s horror, her mind chose that moment to replay the way Jason had kissed her at the creek, and she felt hot color run up her cheeks.

“I can see you think he is,” Charles said, chuckling, misinterpreting the reason for her blush. “Excellent. Now, I shall tell you a secret: Jason is one of the finest men you will ever know. His life has not been a happy one, yet he has gone on with it because he has tremendous strength of mind and will. Leonardo da Vinci once said, ‘The greater a man’s soul, the deeper he loves.’ That quote has always reminded me of Jason. He feels things deeply, but he rarely shows it. And,” Charles added wryly, “because he is so strong, he seldom encounters opposition from anyone—and never from young ladies. Which is why you may occasionally find him somewhat... er ... dictatorial.”

Victoria’s curiosity won out over her desire not to pry. “In what way hasn’t his life been happy?”

“Jason must be the one to tell you about his life; I have no right to do so. He will tell you someday—I know it in my heart. However, I have something else to tell you: Jason has decided that you are to have a season in London, complete with all the glitter and fanfare. We’ll leave for London in three days. Flossie Wilson will join us there, and in the fortnight before the season begins, she’ll teach you whatever you’ll need to know in order to go about in society. We’ll stay at Jason’s townhouse, which is far more suitable for entertaining than mine is, and Jason will stay at my house when he’s in the city. It was one thing for the three of us to reside together here, in the privacy of the countryside, but that must end once we go to London.”