Lysander looked at his handiwork and Gemma saw a corner of his lips work into a wry curl. "Perhaps a better notion than a reality."

She took at his arm. "Don't you dare disparage my first ball! Show me everything."

He stopped her at the wildly fantastic rose archway. It looked like a thorny blooming portal had grown up overnight, constructed by the little folk from a lover's wish.

My wish. I didn't know I wished it until I saw it.

"For me?"

"Aye," said Jennie, who had come alongside them. "And for me, and all the daughters of the dale. I'll be dancing all night, just you watch me!"

"Come along, my flower!" Shepherd Gosling, in his best waistcoat with his bushy hair slicked down, grabbed Jennie's hand and led her beneath the archway. There, he laid a resounding smack on his wife's lips that brought a cheer from the growing crowd.

Everywhere Gemma looked, she saw dale folk arriving up the hillside clad in their best, with cakes and pies, herding their children before them. All her people, the broken bones and the summer colds and the aching joints walked forward with smiles and happy greetings on their careworn faces.

"For you," Lysander told her firmly.

Gemma smiled sideways at him. "Those are my roses."

He nodded unrepentantly. "Every last bloom. Roses like cutting."

A man who knew his roses. Oh my. Gemma shook her head with a trembling little laugh. "This is astonishing, Mr. Worthington."

"My family calls me Zander. I like it when you say Lysander."

Gemma blushed, feeling like a giddy girl with her first beau. "Lysander," she repeated shyly.

I am ridiculous.

I am ridiculously happy too.

And why shouldn't she be? She wore a beautiful gown, had a handsome man on her arm, and all her friends and neighbors were here to celebrate with her.

She was well aware that she was disregarding her duty to remain uninvolved. Yet, in some indefinable way, Lysander seemed to have stepped through an invisible wall. He seemed less lost and more direct. She had the oddest sense that he'd come to some sort of decision.

She wondered what it could have been. Whatever it was, it had clearly helped him turn some sort of corner. Look at this assembly he'd created.

For me.

For all the women of the dale.

Are you sure you aren't simply rationalizing your wish to involve yourself with him?

She wasn't at all confident of her own motivations, but with all the folk of the dale approaching, what could she do but participate wholeheartedly? All would be well, she was sure.

For how long?

Gemma squashed the little warning voice. She refused to think about tomorrow, or next week, or next year.

Tonight she intended to dance with Lysander.

STEPPING THROUGH THE ROSE arch on Lysander's arm was one of the single most romantic moments of Gemma's life.

I truly believed I was beyond all this.