Andrew laid a finger aside his nose. “Just so, my lady. I am sure you have the right of it. Although, Simon must have been carrying an obscene amount of rope on his person, somewhere or other.”

“Remarkable man, that Simon. It’s uncanny what a good costume can do for a person.” She looked around the room and sighed. “When will this night be over?”

Andrew glanced down at her, sympathy showing in his eyes. “You are a wonder, my lady. One of our more trying escapades, and here you are, as bright and brilliant as ever.”

“Costumes come in all shapes and sizes, you know.” She smiled at the Baron de Batts, who’d caught her eye across the room.

Andrew raised one eyebrow, still his most preferred expression. “And I think, if I dare suggest such a thing, that you are a bit more anxious to get home than usual. Some pleasurable distraction there? Hmm?” His eyes teased. She knew he tried to lift her spirits.

She couldn’t stop the blush that spread across her cheeks. Then she stopped trying and succumbed. She sighed. “Home has more draw than ever. You are correct.” She could think of nothing more strengthening than the arms of a certain Frenchman. Her eyes stung, and she tried to shift her thoughts.

Andrew placed his hand at the small of her back and leaned closer to her ear. “We will be there in no time.” Then he straightened and announced a bit too loudly to those closest to him, “I daresay, I am feeling fatigued. Perhaps it is time to end the evening early, begin again tomorrow?” He looked a bit abashed, apologizing with his expression. The women giggled and then nodded in compassion toward him. As he made his way across the room, people began their own plans for departure. Scarlet smiled in relief. They would be on their way to the ship before daybreak.

***

The carriage pulled up in front of her home as the sun climbed above the horizon. One of Scarlet’s most taxing missions, followed by the longest night, had finally closed with the glorious rising of the sun. She felt the weight that had been sitting on her chest fall off around her, and she allowed the peace of her land and the birds and the smell of fresh dew wash over and cradle her wounds.

Memories flooded her with warmth. Her first sight of the place, with Rupert at her side; the smell of freshly stirred dirt and the first signs of new growth; dear friends and balls and parties—all of it combined to create one happy sensation and the essence of her home. She swayed in her spot, the housekeeper calling, “Are you well, my lady?” She came forward, offering to assist Scarlet into the house.

Scarlet smiled. “Oh, my dear Mrs. Bussworth. I am afraid I’m a bit fatigued but happy—just reliving some memories is all.”