“We may have to get by without him,” I said, my voice high and shaky.

“So it appears.” He took a step forward. “Well, I am…”

“Still Lieutenant James Duncan?”

“Yes.” He looked down at himself and laughed. “Yes, it’s still me. I am Major André’s new aide-de-camp—boarding at Judge Latimer’s. I understand your family is close with the judge?”

“We are indeed. He is like an uncle to me.” Words were somehow coming out of me without any involvement from my mind.

“I met him only today, but he seems a capital man,” said Lieutenant Duncan. “He has been a very accommodating host. He has a terrific library, and his beds appear to be quite soft.”

A laugh burst out of me.

He winced. “Oh no. Did I just mention his beds? Miss Coates, forgive me. That was indecorous and…disastrous. Believe it or not, I was trying to make this less awkward.”

“You have not offended me, Lieutenant. And in a surprising turnabout, I think you have succeeded in your goal.”

“Thank you. You are kind.”

“On occasion.”

A slow smile spread over his face.

I relaxed a little, my attention finally settling fully on him. Lieutenant Duncan had fine, straight features. A mouth that seemed to want to smile and eyes the same warm wheaten color of his hair, which he wore unpowdered and in a simple queue. I couldn’t resist a look at his figure. He had an athletic build, with strong calves and thighs that gave shape to his fitted white breeches. By the way he stood, I could tell he felt comfortable in his body.

Suddenly I realized he was standing still, waiting for me to finish my perusal.

I turned away, my embarrassment sharp.

“Might I join you, Miss Coates?”

“You may, Lieutenant.” We entered the rose garden path and walked in silence, our footsteps loud on the gravel. Was he observing me, too? What did he think?

“A fine night, is it not?” he asked after a little while. “I am glad the rain has held off.”

“Very fine. And it was clever of the proprietor to create stars for us.” I looked to the paper lanterns strung above us. “Since the clouds have not cooperated and cleared.” I cringed. Small talk was the work of the devil.

“Indeed.” He glanced up. “ ‘Doubt thou the stars are fire.’ ”

“ ‘Doubt that the sun doth move,’ ” I said, picking up the next line. “ ‘Doubt truth to be a liar.’ ”

“ ‘But never doubt I love.’ ” He smiled. “Have you seen Hamlet, Miss Coates?”

“I have only read it.”

“I believe it will soon be staged at the theater,” he offered. “But I may be wrong. Perhaps it’s Macbeth.”