Stephen’s jaw tilted to a pugnacious angle. “I know you think this is silliness. A childish sort of affair—”

“I think nothing of the sort. One of the things about love is that it always feels real. Even when it’s not.”

“This is real!”

Chase wisely did not respond. Was love just a fleeting feeling that came and went, as capricious as the moon and just as cold?

Of course, his own parents had seemed genuinely smitten, though he’d always thought their obvious affection for one another was a matter of common sense rather than crass emotion. “Have you told Miss Strickton of your feelings?”

“I tried, but she won’t allow me to speak of it. Worse, ever since she had her London season, she is constantly surrounded by admirers. I can scarcely get a word alone with her.”

“There’s your first task, then. To get her attention. I’m certain that once you’ve impressed her with your sincerity and the depths of your devotion, all will change.”

“So I thought. I’ve written her poems—”

“Everyone does that since that fellow Byron came to town. What else?”

“Flowers. But she gets bundles of them a day.”

“Too common. You need something larger, more romantic. You know how women are, always gushing about this gesture or that.”

Stephen bit his lip. “You’re right, of course. There has to be something…”

Chase drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. A long silence ensued. “I suppose jewelry would be too forward?”

“Her father would burst into flames at the thought.”

Chase rubbed the bridge of his nose, then winced at the smell. He dropped his hands back to his knees. There was something very gratifying about playing the part of Mature Advisor. He cleared his throat and said in a stentorian tone, “Yes, Stephen, love is a very—” He caught the lad’s apt gaze and the clichéd words dried in his throat.

Love was a very what? Annoying feeling? Irritating emotion? Chase wondered what he could say since he wasn’t altogether certain that he believed in the fabled emotion anymore.

He eyed Stephen’s luminous expression and checked his next words. It was possible that love, in all its infinite glory, didn’t really exist. It was a myth, a fiction perpetrated by the females of the species in a vain effort to attach a man with wealth and standing to their sides forever.

In a word, love was pathetic.

Chase’s brow lowered. How did one pass on such maudlin information? He really hated to see the light fade from Stephen’s eyes. Everyone should have the opportunity to believe in something. At least every once in a while. “Love is a very difficult emotion to understand.” There. That said it all. And yet said nothing.

Stephen latched on to it at once. “Yes! You’re absolutely right! If only I could get Charlotte to understand how I feel, that it’s more than mere childish affection.” His brow folded in thought, and he absently sipped his brandy.