Free Edith Layton by The Choice Page A

thumb over the smooth back of it as he spoke, as though he’d forgotten he still held. it. She’d taken off her gloves, and he seldom wore his. I t’s only a light touch, and only a hand, you goose , she scolded herself, wondering why she felt her breath shorten and her whole being focus on such a simple thing.
    “They hardly breathe during a play,” Damon said. “If someone coughs, he’s glowered at. Because they don’t get much in the way of theater, although the larger cities have some fine ones. But they’re as riotous during musical reviews and comedies as you would wish.”
    “You look so far away when you speak of the way things were there. Do you miss them?”
    “No. I’m very happy to be home again. Because this is my home. Most of the people I met in America went there because they had no home, or the home they had was no longer good for them. If I had to make a new start, there’d be no better place on earth for it, I think. You see,” he said, his voice growing reflective, “if you went to the Continent, or any settled country in theworld, for that matter, you’d arrive an immigrant, an outsider, an alien. It would take time to be absorbed into the life of the country because you’d be so different. Like many of the French, here in London.
    “They escaped the Terror a generation ago and yet they still live apart in many ways, speaking their own language, eating in their own restaurants, shopping in their own markets, staying with each other for friendship. I suppose some of it’s because we were at war with France so long, they may have felt unwelcome whether they were oppressed or oppressors. It’s too bad, but many were under suspicion, some for good reason. But much of it was for their own comfort then, and now. They band together, strangers in a strange land.
    “But that’s my point,” he said. “Almost everyone in America is a stranger. There’s some whose parents were born there, some even have grandparents who lived there, and some of those aren’t even Indians.” He grinned. “But they aren’t a majority, and it doesn’t make much difference. Everyone speaks with an accent of one kind or another; everyone’s trying to build a new life or rebuild an old one. They’re escaping from broken homes and hearts, shedding lost dreams and old loves. They’re creating a new world as well as living in one. That’s why I say that if I had to begin my life over again, it would be there. Some are doing that exactly. They’ve left not only the Old World behind, but their real names and memories, too. Sometimes even their real husbands and wives,” he said with a reminiscent grin. “But my name, my family, and my memories are good ones, and so I had to return.”
    Gilly slowly withdrew her hand from his. He let it goat once. She smiled at him, easily. It was an easy thing to do. She liked him very well, she’d love to have him as a friend. But he’d reminded her that she knew too well she could never have him as a husband. His name was a good one, and his family obviously doted on him.
    Again, she realized how wrong she was for him. Once again, she vowed to end their charade. Surely it was too soon? But a few weeks weren’t enough time to reclaim her good name. Or, she corrected herself, at least the good name Ewen and Bridget had given her.
    She’d take a little more time with him, she decided. Just a little. Because apart from needing society to see that their liaison hadn’t been just what it was—a sham to save her reputation—she was enjoying herself enormously. And maybe they could remain friends after all. After all, she was friends with the one and only man she’d ever wanted to marry—if the world and time were altered. If she could bear that, she could bear this new male friend, couldn’t she? What a lucky girl I am , she thought wryly. So many dear friends and no lovers to complicate my life .
    “So, you like this gown?” she asked suddenly, to change her