There just had never been anything more than love. She had thought it normal, at least until last summer. Then she had first seen the thrilling connection between Aurora and Lord Quinton, and she had realized something was very definitely missing in her own life.

After quite some time of rambling, Lady Coulter reached over and took Judith’s hand in her own. “I’m boring you to tears, aren’t I? Augustus is always telling me I ought to go out and talk to the trees, because they’d care more what I have to say than most people would. I imagine he’s right.”

“ Not at all,” Judith stammered. “I’m just a bit preoccupied, it seems.” Preoccupied with wallowing in self pity and being envious of the woman’s son’s wife. Not something she was overly inclined to admit to at the moment.

Piers extricated himself from the whist table and made his way over to her, his stunning form outlined in the flickering glow of candlelight. “I believe I’m going to turn in for the night, dear.” The deep velvet of his voice rolled over her and settled in her core.

He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek, just as he did every night. The faintest hint of stubble grazed her skin and she shivered. His rich, brown eyes held no trace of the need so transparent in Lord Quinton’s gaze. Her heart dropped just a bit further than it already had, and she chastised herself for hoping for something that did not exist.

He smiled-his usual warm smile, nothing heated or seductive or even remotely extravagant. “Good night, my love.”

“ Oh, but I’m sure Lady Lipscombe would like you to escort her up to bed as well,” Lady Coulter said, smiling suggestively at Judith. “You young couples have better things to do than to sit with me.”