Gemma fought for breath and her heart throbbed. My heavens, that man is beautiful. She swallowed hard as he neared. Her throat had gone dry and her thoughts gone blank. It hadn't occurred to her to plan what to say to him. She'd only thought to stop him from leaving her.

He leapt up onto the running board of her pony cart and stayed there, eye to eye with her.

Gemma inhaled and licked her lips nervously. "I …" She trailed off.

"You." To her astonishment he smiled at her, a sweet, slightly naughty grin that transformed his remote features into something entirely breathtaking and new.

Yet, gazing at him so closely, she could see the shadows had not gone. That was understandable, perhaps a good thing in the end. She would not love a man this much if he could take the life of another and then live lightly with himself.

Oh heavens! She should apologize. That's what she should be saying!

"I'm sorry I reacted badly."

His grin faded but the hopeful light in his eyes did not go out. "I thought your reaction to be entirely appropriate, considering." He looked at her for a long moment.

Gemma could quite honestly admit that she was dazzled. Lysander burdened had been beautiful, dark and lost. This Lysander, who had made some peace with his past, who had at last caught his balance, was another thing entirely. Heavens, what a breathtaking fellow. Gemma wondered if she should look away in order to speak to him sensibly.

"I accept your apology," he said slowly, concern crinkling his brow. "As I hope you accept mine for everything I put you through."

Gemma fought to make her words make sense. Was this how he'd felt? "We both said things." Except he hadn't. He'd said only truth to her and she had scorned that offering, giving back only accusations. "Oh drat. I have so much I wish to take back." Which was an inane thing to say. Harsh words could never be taken back. He'd given her his darkest, most tender self and she'd dashed it to the earth at his feet. I'm so sorry!

"Do you want to take back everything?" He drew away slightly.

The look on his face! "Oh no! No, not that!" Gemma exclaimed, blushing hotly. No, that night she would treasure until the day she died.

"Really?" The smile began to return and it was like the first warm day of spring after a hard winter. Gemma felt like a flower, turning toward his light.

"Oh yes," she said fervently.

Then Lysander looked back toward the carriages. For the first time, Gemma became aware of their audience. The four of them, Mr. Button, Mr. Cabot, Miss Atalanta and Mr. Pollux Worthington were perched in a row on top of the rear carriage, where large luggage would rest, looking for all the world like audience members on their private balcony seat. Miss Atalanta was munching an apple.