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Chapter 1
LondonNovember 1820
C
aptain Miles Trevelyan sank with relie intothe worn armchair toward which his hosthad beckoned him. He’d never been gladder tosee a brother ofcer. He’d known the older manmost o his adult lie. They were ofcers in thesame cavalry regiment. But during the long jour-ney back rom India, they’d slowly gone rom being acquaintances to riends, and, just now, hereally needed a riend. The dreams had started upagain, and there was no one else within two thou-sand miles who would understand.“So what is it, Trev?” The major put down thenewspaper he’d been reading.No point beating around the bush. “I’ve been
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J
enny
B
rown
2
on leave or only a week, and already I wish Iwere home.”“This
is
home.”“I know. That’s the problem.”The older man’s eyes were thoughtul beneathhis bushy brows. “You’ve been in India, what? Adecade?”Trev nodded. “I joined up at fteen, just atermy ather died.”“He was a fne man, your ather. I was ortunateto serve under him. But that explains it. The frstleave is always the hardest. England takes somegetting used to. The customs o the natives—quitepeculiar at times, even to a man who’s seen theNizam’s court. But you’ll get used to it. There’s noplace like London, once you get your bearings.You’re rich, my boy, and your pedigree is impec-cable. You’ll soon be up to your eyeballs in cham-pagne, delighting the air maidens o Mayairwith tales o your adventures among the heathen,while their mamas contend to determine whichone o their daughters will wed you.”The thought did not charm. Trev’s mother’snot-so-subtle matchmaking was a large part owhat had brought Trev back to his comrade’s doorthis evening. But as his eye caught the rayed edgeo the lodging chamber’s carpet, he rememberedthat Major Stanley did not have a amily ortuneto rely on as he did and might long to participatein the rituals o the
haut ton
he was able to reject.Hoping his riend didn’t think him a spoiledpuppy, he explained, “I let my mother drag me
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