“Before anything," he said as he brought her around to face him, "I want to give you this."Fumbling in his suitcoat, he produced a small package wrapped in brown paper and string, and gave it to Azalea. Curious, she tugged at the strings of the light package until they unkonotted. The paper fell away.It was a silver handkerchief. Supple and soft, just as Mother's had been. In the corner were the ambroidered initials A.K.W.Azalea laughed and cried at once. She threw her arms around Mr. Bradford's neck, wanting to embrace him so deeply she could feel his soul."Yes," she cried, "Yes! Yes, yes, yes!""Well-I-never even said anything," he said.Even so, he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her. Azalea pressed her cheek into his collar, rumpling it, and breathing into his cravat. It smelled of fresh linen. She felt Mr. Bradford's cheek pressing the top of her head. His lips touched her hair.A muffled voice startled them both."When are you going to kiss her?"They pulled away.In the ballroom windows, noses and hands pressed against te glass, were the girls. They stood among the prickly rosebushes, beaming wicked little grins. Delphinium and Eve whispered and giggled to each other;Bramble wore a magnificent grin on her face and a spark of light in her yellow-green eyes.Another figure stood among them.This one had his arms folded across his chest, stiff and firm and formal......Yet he did not look displeased."Those rotten little spies!" said Azalea.”

“A muffled voice startled them both."When are you going to kiss her?"They pulled away. In the ballroom windows, noses and hands pressed against the glass, were the girls. They stood among the prickly rosebushes, beaming wicked little grins. Delphinium and Eve whispered and giggled to each other; Bramble wore a magnificent grin on her face and a spark of light in her yellow-green eyes.Another figure stood among them. This one had his arms folded across his chest, stiff and firm and formal......Yet he did not look displeased.”

“Alexander tilted his head and kissed her deeply on the lips. He let go of her hands, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him. They kissed as if in a fever... they kissed as if the breath were leaving their bodies.”

“When I saw you at the graveyard, looking so white, I knew something was wrong. I knew it."Azalea stared at him, the fire flickering highlights in his eyes."So...I thought I should do something," he finished lamely."You saw everything?"Mr. Bradford gave a half of a crooked smile. "I did knock.""You didn't see Mr...Mr.-""Mr. Keeper?" Mr. Bradford spat the name. "Oh yes, I saw Mr. Keeper. Rather hard not to. I saw him try to kiss you. Or what he said was a kiss. I want to snap his head off!"Azalea had her hand over her mouth, shocked that someone as solemn and dignified as Mr. Bradford could have such venom. He took her hands, gently, and pushed up her sleeved, revealing her swollen wrists. His fringers traced the bruises."You stopped him," said Azalea. She bowed her head, shy. "You kept him from-from-""Ah, yes, my lady!" Mr. Bradford smiled a crooked smile in full. "His ponytail was simply begging to be yanked.”

“He stepped close to her; she could feel his breath on her neck. “Eve, you make me not want to die.”She turned to see his face. “I didn’t want to be this, and now it’s all I am.”He put his hands on her cheeks. The look on his face did her in. He was kind, caring, and mourning her losses. Tears wet his cheeks. Eve felt a very deep sob choke her. If he was mourning, so could she.He pulled her into his arms. “Cry. It’s okay. Cry.”Eve felt her knees give. He caught her and carried her to his couch. He petted her hair and let her empty her pain and guilt onto his chest. He kissed the top of her head. For the first time, his actions toward her seemed to have no sexual intent whatsoever.Eve let go of a rope she’d clung to for too long. And she fell. She fell right into him. Wrong or right, she gave up judging. Her lips found his, and he kissed her gently, not demanding any more than she was willing to offer.”

“Let's not talk,” she said again, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him.His lips collided with hers; his mouth opened into hers. He pushed her down upon the sofa and began unbuttoning her blouse; she opened the buttons of his shirt and felt her lips press against the smooth expanses of his chest.They did not stop; they could not stop. Their bodies were tangled into each other – their limbs at angles across the surface of the couch. They had both by now stripped to their underwear, and Stuart's arms were tight upon her back.“We have to stop,” he whispered, and she gave a little moan in reply.”