“Those are strong words,” he said. “Did he really do that?”

“I have never been able to fall in love since,” she said. “Although I constantly try, Dom.”

“You don’t still love Purnell, do you?” he asked curiously.

“I don’t believe I ever did,” she said. “I disliked him intensely. I was a little afraid of him. And I was obsessed by him. I really never knew him at all. That is not love. There was nothing about him that was lovable. Only the mystery of what it was that made him so morose, so untouchable. No, I don’t love him or pine for him, Dom. Of course I don’t. So you are to escort Miss Simpson to the opera tomorrow. And are to dance with her at the duke’s ball next week, I would wager. Do you feel any of that old magic, Dom?”

She leaned her chin on her hand and gazed at her brother. She looked remarkably like him except that all the attributes that made him a handsome male made her a lovely female. She was tall and slender with short fair curls and a face that was made beautiful by the glow of life that animated it.

Was he feeling any of that old magic? It was a question that Lord Eden had asked himself from the moment of his first meeting with Jennifer Simpson, and a question that he was to ask several times in the coming days. He saw a great deal of her. He went home with Charlie almost as often as he had always used to do. And apart from the visit to Alexandra and Madeline, and the evening at the opera, he took her walking twice, once in the park and once in the botanic gardens. Always with Mrs. Simpson as chaperone.

He enjoyed the outings. Very much. The girl was pretty, becomingly modest, and shy. And yet, as Madeline had observed, she had sense and character. If he could be alone with her for a short while-even alone in a crowd-perhaps he would find her an intriguing companion.