After the battle, he’d accepted Simon’s invitation to come home to England, first to Simon’s Berkshire estate and now to the house on the street ahead of him. Simon owned the comfortable town house, but Lucas had grown up there after he was orphaned and taken in by his aunt and uncle. He’d been raised as Simon’s brother and now occupied the same room he’d had as a boy. They’d been constant companions for years, studying and riding and cheerfully arguing the merits of the army versus the navy.

He let himself in with his key and collected the quietly burning lamp that had been left for him before he climbed the stairs. His room was at the front of the house, but he saw a crack of light showing under the door of the small sitting room that connected the bedchambers of the master and mistress of the house.

Thinking Simon might be awake, he tapped lightly on the door, then entered when Simon called permission. The scene that met Lucas’s gaze was so warmly domestic that his whole body eased. Simon was relaxing on the sofa, his crossed legs stretched out toward the fire and his arm around his wife. Suzanne curled against him as she nursed their infant daughter. Mother and child were wrapped in a soft wool shawl so that only the top of the baby’s small dark head was visible.

Lucas said in a quiet voice, “Suzanne, you and Madeline make the most perfect Madonna and child image I’ve ever seen.”

“Indeed,” Simon said fondly as he stroked a hand down his wife’s arm. “Since Suzanne is doing the work of feeding Madeline, I thought it only fair that I keep her company. How was your first solo venture to a ball?”

“It went reasonably well.” Lucas settled in a chair set at right angles to the sofa, careful not to disturb the pile of intertwined fur that was Suzanne’s gray tabby cat, Leo, and Rupert, Simon’s amiable dog of uncertain ancestry. “My status as a prosperous and eligible bachelor protected me from open disdain and cuts direct, and I had several pleasant dances with women I’d met here in your house. Then things became . . . interesting.”

Suzanne looked at him with a sleepy smile. “How interesting?”

“In mid-evening, a woman in black swept into the ballroom and everyone drew back as if she were a plague carrier. Outraged whispers pronounced that she was recently divorced and a contemptible slut who was beyond redemption.”

Simon’s brows arched. “Was that Lady Denshire? I’ve heard of the scandal but don’t know any of the people involved. I’m guessing you didn’t shrink back in horror.”