Louisa would try, I knew, for the rest of her life to reconcile us. But I had made a devil's bargain with Brandon to keep our mutual shame hidden, to quietly leave the army and say nothing. I'd taken half-pay so that I could have at least a meager income, but I doubted I'd ever take up my commission again. With the end of the war and so many officers redundant, few regiments would be interested in a fortyish, wounded captain. And so here I was, washed up on London's uncaring shores, a commander with no one left to command.

"Did you soil your slippers in Grimpen Lane tonight to tell me this?" I asked after a time. "You ought to have spared yourself the journey."

She spread her hands but gave me a smile. "I had to try. And my slippers are in a box in my carriage."

"Which I did not see outside. I refuse to believe your devoted coachman dropped you at the end of the lane and bolted for Brook Street. What are you up to?"

"If you'd seen my carriage and known I was here, you might have gone away until I gave up and went home."

"I might have, yes."

She looked at me. "I ought to have known you wouldn't come to the house. I have the devil of a time seeing you in private these days."

"Can you wonder why?"

"I know why, Gabriel. I just wish you wouldn't."

We shared a long look. Firelight touched her sleek hair, golden as sunshine. Her nose was slightly crooked, a fact I'd noticed the moment I'd met her.

I relented. "Forgive my temper, Louisa. As I said, I had a foul afternoon."

"You've not told me what happened to keep you from our appointment. I assumed you simply did not want to come."

I ran my hand though my hair, noting that it was growing long again. I needed to crop it. "It was too complex to explain in a note," I said.

"Then explain now, if you please. Are you all right?"