Written In Stone

men at the ball combined.
    Rich beyond comprehension, he was also devastatingly handsome. His black hair set off eyes as blue as a midsummer sky. Powerfully built, he carried himself with a gracefulness that, if mentioned, would embarrass him. Well-read and highly educated, he spoke five languages fluently, and was a master with the sword and gun, as well as with his fists. The small scar on his cheek, the remnants of a barroom brawl, only added to his ruggedly handsome appearance. However, Gavin's upbringing taught him not to put his faith in his looks or his material possessions. His father said both could be lost in but a blink of an eye and the only thing a man could really count on was his own character. Dignity, honesty, and integrity were desired attributes. His mother taught him the piano and manners, and Gavin grew to be a humble man not easily led by fancy words or a pretty face, much to the chagrin of many of the women attending this evening's affair.
    "I would so love to save a dance for you, Mr. Stone," said a pretty young woman as she batted her eyes at him from behind a fan.
    Gavin smiled pleasantly, looking into her dark brown eyes. "I would be honored, Miss Haversham, however, I am currently otherwise occupied." The disappointment was evident on her face and Gavin knew his rejection counted among the few received in her short social life. What Gavin knew, and Miss Haversham didn't, was that her father was deeply in debt and counting on his daughter to balance the books. He bowed politely and turned on his heel. Glancing around the room, Gavin spied another young lady, sitting alone at a table in the rear of the room, and he made his way to her.
    "Hello," he said, with a smile that showed dimples in each cheek. He watched as the young woman sized him up. "I'm afraid we haven't been formerly introduced," he continued, "I'm Gavin Stone."
    "Angela Elliott," she said, extending one gloved hand and allowing him to place a quick kiss upon it.
    "Might I sit, Miss Elliott?"
    Angie glanced around the room as if searching for someone. She took a deep breath then exhaled. "It's Mrs. Elliott."
    "I apologize, Madam, to you and your husband. I hope I haven't offended you."
    Her lips curved ever so slightly as she replied, "You have not offended me, Mr. Stone. I am a widow. No harm done."
    "I am sorry for your loss. May I get you a cup of punch?"
    "Yes. Thank you, sir."
    Gavin turned to go after the punch, wondering if the beautiful, young Mrs. Elliott had married an older man. Arranged marriages were still a part of life, even if Gavin did not agree. To a lot of men, a woman was worth no more than the dowry she came with and often wound up either bred or beaten to death.
    Women were pretty playthings to most men and often couldn't carry a conversation concerning anything more than the latest fashion or social calendar. Gavin doubted he'd ever marry, but if he did, he wanted a woman who would be more than a brood mare. He wanted an equal match in every way.
    ~ * ~
    Angela inhaled deeply then let the breath out slowly as she watched Gavin walk away. Though she thought him very handsome, she pushed the thought away. What use did she have for a man, handsome or otherwise? She'd had her man, her time of happiness, and now it was over. There would never be another husband for her, or another life, except the one she now lived. No, she corrected herself, she wasn't living; she merely existed. Her life ceased to exist that day, nearly three years ago, when her dear husband also ceased to exist. Now, she simply breathed in and out because she had no other choice. Deep in thought, her reverie broke when her companion approached.
    " Mrs. Waterston, where have you been all evening?"
    The buxom older woman seemed out of breath as she took a chair next to Angie. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to leave you alone all evening, but it's been so long since we've been out. I haven't seen a single friend in ages, so I've been catching up."
    "That is only because you refuse every tea invitation. You won't attend a single picnic, and you sit home with me every evening. I go to bed just to have a moment's peace."
    "Angela," Mrs. Waterston began. "How would it look if I was gallivanting around? I'm your caregiver and can't just leave you alone."
    Angie rolled her eyes as a retort formed on her tongue, but just then, Gavin returned with the punch, so she bit back the harsh words and remained silent.
    "Excuse me," Gavin said, bowing