And Lord Eden, frustrated by his great weakness and the slowness of his recovery, was nevertheless living in an enchanted time. He had been in love before, constantly, routinely, as a younger man. Painfully in love, living for one daily sight of his beloved, pining for one kindly look from her eyes. But he had never loved, he realized now; he had merely played with sentiment.

He loved Ellen Simpson. He did not think he could ever have his fill of gazing at her, of watching her about some ordinary task like her sewing, of listening to her talk and discovering her past and her background, of talking to her and watching her changing expressions that told of her interest in him.

He could never have his fill of loving her, of making love to her. It was a heady experience, a totally erotic experience, to make love with a woman rather than to her. And quite unexpected. He had never thought of such a thing, had never expected it even of his dream love. To find that Ellen wanted him, burned for him, urged him on to giving her satisfaction, and showed that satisfaction with a quite uninhibited pleasure, more than doubled his own delight in her. He could not now imagine that he had never known there could be such loving.

He loved her. It was for her that he washed and shaved himself and ate and drank and walked laboriously and painfully around and around his bedchamber and eventually out into the parlor. He would exhaust himself, cause himself unnecessary pain and shortness of breath, but he would get well for her. He would regain his strength. And when the time came that he could venture beyond these rooms and get his life back to some normalcy again-he did not like to think about the time-then he would learn to love her in an everyday setting instead of this magical one.

He would sell out of the army and marry her and take her into Wiltshire with him and settle in the home that he had never really made his own. And he would have children with her and spend his life restoring her faith in the happiness and stability of family life. Mama would love her-how could anyone not? He thought that Edmund and Madeline already did like her exceedingly.

He said nothing to her. By unspoken consent, neither of them spoke at all about the future or about the present or immediate past beyond the haven of their rooms. They lived their love, but they spoke of it only in murmured love words as they lay entwined on the bed, words that neither of them remembered afterward.

He lay holding her hand one afternoon. They had fallen quiet after talking for a while. He felt drowsy and closed his eyes. But he squeezed her hand and tugged on it slightly.

“Lie down beside me,” he said.

“The doors are all open,” she said, squeezing his hand in return. “And it is daylight.”

He opened his eyes and smiled sleepily at her. “Just on top of the covers,” he said. “I want to feel your head on my arm. Won’t you humor a poor defenseless wounded soldier and help him fall asleep?”

She laughed. “The description will not suit you for much longer,” she said. “You will soon be as fit as I, sir… Just for a little while, then.”

He turned onto his side and stretched his arm along beneath the pillow. She settled her neck comfortably against it and smiled at him.

“The surgeon never did recommend this as suitable therapy,” she said.

“The old quack did not know what he was talking about,” he said. “He would have bled me dry by now, and I would still be watching the wardrobe performing a pas de deux with the washstand at the foot of my bed. I much prefer this. You wouldn’t care to join me underneath the covers, I suppose? It is warm and cozy in here, Ellen.”

“No, thank you,” she said. “This is far more respectable for an afternoon.”

He smiled at her and kissed her lightly on the mouth. And continued to do so, teasing her lips with his, touching them with his tongue, drawing his head back to smile at her. There was no passion between them. He was still feeling drowsy, and she looked as if she might sleep too. There was just a warm affection, a comfort, a happiness. He continued to kiss her and murmur nonsense into her ear. She made sounds of deep contentment in her throat.

And then a movement beyond her head drew his eyes to Madeline standing in the doorway. She flushed a deep crimson as her eyes met his, and took a backward step.

“Oh, pardon me,” she said. “The door was open. I…”

He laughed softly. “I never thought to see you so discomfited, Mad,” he said. “My apologies. This is all my fault.”

But even as he spoke, Ellen scrambled off the bed, resisted his attempt to catch at her wrist, and was through the door past Madeline before he could finish his words and try to make both women feel less uncomfortable.

“You had better come in and sit down,” he said to his sister. “I’m sorry. Ellen told me the door was open. Now I have hopelessly embarrassed both of you. No, do come. I’ll talk to her afterward. For now, doubtless, she will be glad of some time in which to find a place to hide her head.”

“Dom.” She closed the door of the bedchamber and came to sit on the chair beside his bed. “What was that all about? You are not dallying with her, are you? She has been very good to you.”

He smiled and clasped his hands behind his head. “I was not dallying,” he said. “Neither was she.”

She looked closely into his face. “Oh, Dom,” she said in some wonder. “It has happened to you, has it not? And I am so pleased. I could not have chosen anyone better for you myself. She is a lovely person. I admire her excessively.”

“I love her,” he said. He reached for her hand. “I love her, Mad. If I were only a little stronger, I would climb to the highest rooftop in Brussels and yell it to the world.”

She sat smiling at him, his hand clasped in both of hers.

“I am going to marry her,” he said. “I didn’t know it could be like this, Mad. I have always dreamed of it, but I didn’t know. I had no idea. I am going to marry her as soon as I can get out of this infernal bed without feeling like a rag doll after five minutes. God, but I love her.”

“She has said yes?” she asked.

“I haven’t asked her.” He smiled sheepishly at his twin. “I have been too busy loving her to think of anything so mundane as asking her to marry me. But she will, Mad. She loves me too. That is what is so wonderful about it. Can you imagine?”

“Of course I can imagine, silly,” she said. “Girls have been falling in love with you for years. Sometimes it does not seem fair that the most handsome man of my acquaintance is my own brother.”

“Then you can’t imagine,” he said. “I mean, she loves me, Mad. She is not just in love with me. Oh, I can’t explain. You will understand one day.”

“I am very happy for you,” she said, lifting his hand and laying it against her cheek. “So both of us are going to be married soon, Dom.”

He looked his inquiry.

“I am going to marry Lieutenant Penworth,” she said.

“Penworth?” he said. “I thought he didn’t want to live.”

“He doesn’t,” she said. “But he will live, of course. And he has come to depend upon me. He needs me, Dom. I don’t know how he would go on without me. I am going to look after him for the rest of our lives.”

“You love him?” he asked.

“Of course I love him,” she said. “He needs me, Dom. It is a wonderful feeling to be needed, you know. I am going to devote my life to him.”

“I don’t think you love him,” he said flatly. “It would be a mistake to marry a man because you pity him, Mad. Don’t do it. Break the engagement before it is too late.”

“There is no engagement,” she said. “Not yet.” She laughed softly. “He does not know yet. But he will marry me. I shall show him that he does not need to go through life alone and miserable. I shall be there for him. It will be a good thing for both of us, Dom. I will have something, someone, to live for.”

“It’s the most cork-brained thing I have ever heard of,” he said. “It won’t do, Mad.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Don’t be horrid,” she said. “I have been glad for you. I have told you so. And all you can tell me is that I am being cork-brained.”

“Well, that is because you are,” he said. “Heavens, where is Mama? And Edmund? They won’t allow it, you know.”

“I am five-and-twenty,” she said indignantly. “They have nothing to say to the matter. And they will not be so horrid. They will welcome the lieutenant into the family even if he is crippled and has had his face disfigured.”

“Lord!” he said. “Do you think I do not want the man as a brother-in-law just because he does not have the full quota of legs and eyes? I would welcome him with no legs and no eyes, Mad, if I thought you could not live without him.”

“You are horrid!” she said, rising to her feet and looking down at him with hostile eyes. “After all you have been through, Dom, I thought you would have some sympathy for a fellow sufferer. But it is all right for you. You still have all your good looks, and you will have back all your old strength and physique. Lieutenant Penworth will not. He needs me. And I don’t care what you say. I am going to marry him. I don’t need your approval, or even your love. Someone else will need me, and that will be enough.”

“Little goose!” he said fondly, reaching for her hand again. But she snatched it away. “If you are determined to have him, Mad, I will say no more. Only I want to see you happy, as I am going to be happy. I care about you, you know. Whoosh! Good God! Do be careful.”

This last was said as she almost threw herself on him and planted a kiss firmly on his cheek.

“I knew you would understand,” she said, “once you got used to the idea. I knew you would. I am going to be the happiest person in the world; you will see. And you are going to be happy too. I could hug the life out of you, but I am afraid that Mrs. Simpson will come in here brandishing some weapon if I make you yell out again. I am going to love her as a sister-in-law, Dom. I really am. And I won’t say anything to her on the way out, since you have not asked her yet. I must go. He will be needing me.”

She kissed him again on the other cheek, smiled gaily down at him, and was gone.

Lord Eden clasped his hands behind his head again and smiled at the door. Should he get up and go and find Ellen? She was probably still hiding her embarrassment somewhere. It was just a very good thing that she had refused to join him beneath the covers. Both she and Mad would have had an apoplexy apiece. He grinned at the canopy above him.

He closed his eyes and felt his drowsiness return. Lieutenant Penworth indeed! Mad had scarce looked at the man twice when he had two legs and two eyes. What a disaster she was going to make of her life if he could not talk her out of marrying Penworth just because she pitied him. Silly goose! He yawned loudly. He should go and find Ellen. He could just open his mouth and yell for her, but he should exert himself and get out of the bed and go to find her. Another silly goose. He was going to enjoy kissing away her blushes and explaining that Madeline was just his twin. Nobody any more formidable than that.

But when he opened his eyes, it was to find that she was standing silently in the doorway looking at him, her face a pale and expressionless mask.

“Ellen!” he said, sitting up sharply and wincing. “You have not taken it so much to heart, have you?”

“What have we done?” Her voice was toneless.

“What…?” He frowned at her.

“We have been living here together for almost a week,” she said, “like a pair of carefree lovers. You are Charlie’s closest friend. I am his wife. What have we done? He trusted us both. We have both cheated him.”

“No.” He stood up and reached out a hand to her, but she did not move from where she stood. “No, that is not true, Ellen. I never…Good God, I never thought of you in this way while you were married to Charlie. You never thought of me in this way.”

“I am an adulteress,” she said.

He passed a hand over his eyes and felt for the edge of the bed with the backs of his knees. “No,” he said. “Of course you are not. Calm down, Ellen. You were always a faithful wife. I always admired you for that. So did everyone who knew you.”

She laughed harshly. “A faithful wife indeed,” she said. “I have been lying with you in that bed each night, taking pleasure from you. As if pleasure were relevant to my life at present. In that bed. My husband’s bed. Oh, my God!”

He sat down heavily. “Don’t make it sordid, Ellen,” he said. “Please don’t do that. It has not been a matter of simple pleasure. You know that. It has been love. I have loved you in the past five days. You have loved me.”