"I haven't forgotten," Caroline answered. "But there was a reason," she argued. "One beneath all the easy explanations, and someday he will tell me."

"I'll not argue with you, Sister," Charity announced. "In just a few days we will go to our first ball together. Your father is excited for us and I won't put a damper on his enthusiasm. Only promise me that you will wait to make your decision. I won't bring the subject up again for… two weeks. Then you will have had time to consider all the ramifications. Why, Caroline, you don't even like the English!"

"I haven't met all that many," Caroline returned.

The conversation suddenly reminded Caroline of the injured gentleman she had aided and their similar talk. And then she thought about the man named Bradford and the way he had affected her. She found herself thinking about him more than she wanted to but couldn't seem to block her thoughts. He threatened her somehow and when she acknowledged that to herself, she immediately decided that she was being dramatic. He was, after all, only a man.

The night of their first ball finally arrived. The Ashford bash, as her father called it, signaled the beginning of the season, and everyone of significance would be in attendance.

Caroline took her time dressing for the affair. Her hair eluded the pins and ribbons the maid repeatedly tried to fashion it with, and Caroline ended up brushing it all out and letting it fall around her shoulders.

Her gown was the color of violet ice, with a scooped neck that showed more than just a hint of her full bosom. Matching shoes and sparkling white gloves completed her outfit, and as Caroline stood before the gilded mirror in her bedroom, she decided that she looked quite acceptable.

Mary Margaret, the freckle-faced lady's maid that Deighton had hired to assist Caroline, carried on and on about how lovely her new mistress was. "Your eyes have taken on the color of your gown," she whispered in awe. " 'Tis magic, it is. Oh, if only I could change into a mouse and come with you to the ball. You'll cause such a commotion."

Caroline laughed. "If you change into a mouse, it's you who will cause the commotion," she teased. "But if you have a mind to wait up for me, I promise to tell you everything that happens."

From the maid's radiant expression, Caroline thought that she wouldn't have been very surprised if the girl had dropped to her knees. The adoration made her uneasy. "I'm very nervous, Mary Margaret. Tonight is my first ball."

"But you are Lady Caroline!" Mary Margaret protested. "Your position is secured by your birthright. And you are so beautiful," she added with a sigh.

"I am a simple farmgirl," Caroline contradicted. The maid looked ready to argue, and Caroline quickly thanked her for her assistance and then went to find her father and Charity.

The two of them were waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. Charity looked lovely. Her hair was twisted into a cluster of curls with a pink ribbon threaded through it. Her gown was the same color as the ribbon, with a flattering scooped neck that just covered her shoulders. The pale, shimmering pink enhanced the pretty blush of her cheeks. Caroline had no doubt that the ton would embrace her cousin.

The Earl of Braxton watched as his daughter made her way down the stairs. His smile was proud and his eyes were filled with tears, an indication that he was pleased with her appearance. She waited until he had pulled a handkerchief from his vest pocket and had wiped his eyes before asking if he had waited long for her.

"Fourteen years," he answered before he could stop himself. Caroline smiled with true fondness over his honest remark. "You look beautiful tonight," he stated. "I will have to protect you from the bucks."

When they were seated in the carriage and on their way to the ball, Charity asked her uncle, "Is there anyone that you see most of the time?"

"I beg your pardon?" Caroline's father was slow to understand.

"Charity wishes to know if you are attracted to any particular lady," Caroline translated. She hadn't told Charity that her father had been a recluse all these past years.

"Oh, that! No, no, there is no one," he replied. "Years ago, I did escort Lady Tillman about."

"Perhaps she will be there tonight," Caroline commented.

"Her husband died right after I married your mother, Caroline," the earl commented. "She had a girl. I wonder how she turned out."

"But, Uncle, it must be lonely for you, living alone. I can't imagine it," Charity remarked with a frown.

"That is because you have always been surrounded by brothers," he replied.

"And Caroline," Charity interjected. "She has been my sister for as long as I can remember."

The three lapsed into silence as the carriage came to a stop in front of a thick stone house. It looked like a palace to Caroline and she felt her stomach begin to twist into knots. She was nervous.

"It is warm for fall," her father remarked as he assisted the ladies out of the carriage. He walked between them, holding Caroline's elbow with his left hand and Charity's with his right.

Charity tripped over one of the steps and Caroline had to remind her to put her spectacles on.

"Only until I am inside," Charity announced. "I know I am terribly vain but I look so awful when I'm wearing them!"

"Nonsense," her uncle insisted. "You look lovely with your spectacles on. Gives you a dignified appearance."

Charity didn't believe him. As soon as they entered the foyer, brightly lit with hundreds of candles, Charity slipped the spectacles off her nose and tucked them into her uncle's jacket. "I have not told you how handsome you look tonight, Uncle," she said.

Caroline's father answered with another compliment but Caroline barely paid attention. She was trying not to gawk as she took in the regal splendor surrounding her.

The Earl of Braxton immediately introduced his daughter and his niece to their host, who was standing at the head of a long receiving line. The Duke of Ashford was an old man, with a shock of white hair that had a faint yellow cast to it. He spoke in a high, nasally voice that sounded as if someone were pinching his nose. Caroline thought he was terribly impressed with himself but liked him anyway because he had embraced her father with an affectionate hug.

The duke couldn't seem to take his eyes off her and even used his quizzing glass to obtain a better look. She wondered, as she tried to ignore his rather rude stare, if she had suddenly grown additional arms or legs, and noticed that he didn't stare at Charity in quite the same way. She was most thankful when her father took hold of her arm and escorted her to the steps above the ballroom.

It was all a beautiful blur to Charity. She let the excitement of the evening catch hold of her. Tonight she would mingle with the fashionable ton. Surely one of them would know Paul Bleachley. Tonight she would take her first step in finding out all about her lost love.

The Earl of Braxton, with his daughter on one side and his niece clutching his arm on the other side, stood at the threshold of the ballroom. There were four steps leading down to the dance area, and the threesome had a full view of the crowd.

Father and daughter did not touch, though Charity squeezed her uncle's arm so that she wouldn't trip when they descended the steps. There was a sparkle in her eyes and her face was flushed with expectation.

Caroline, on the other hand, looked totally composed. She stood tall and proud, matching her father in height and dignity, and looked down on the people staring at her with a tranquil expression on her face.

The earl stood where he was until he was sure that every eye was directed at his beautiful daughter and niece. It was, he decided then and there, his finest moment! A notable hush descended over the group, and while Charity grew a little nervous over the prolonged wait, her uncle basked in pride.