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considered Edward one of them.

“Should we continue our tour, or would you prefer to return home?” He was certain she would choose the latter. He had not only overstepped his bounds but turned away from her. What young lady would want to spend time with someone who insulted her so?

She looked at him at last, her face composed with the exception of flushed cheeks. “Let us continue the tour.” She looked both ways, her chest moving quickly as if she were out of breath. “I'm certain our guide will return when he is able. Shall we proceed on our own for now?”

Without waiting for his answer, she moved down the Gallery and deeper into the exhibits. She paused before a small statue of Athena. “Do you think the original one that was in the Parthenon is still out there somewhere or was it destroyed?”

Much mystery surrounded the statue to which she referred. Made of gold and marble, it was said to be a sight to behold but had disappeared at some point.

“It must’ve been destroyed sometime over the centuries.”

She turned to face him and lifted her chin. “I think it's still out there somewhere. Perhaps in someone's private collection.” Then she looked again at the small statue that was surely a poor replica of the original. “One must have hope or else life would be too difficult to endure.” She studied him for a long moment before moving on to the next exhibit.

James stared after her, pondering her words. Was that what he was doing? Living without hope? Or was he merely being realistic? How could he hold hope after all he'd witnessed and endured? He had seen mankind at its worst. It wasn’t feasible to think of “possibilities” after that.

However, he wasn’t about to argue. He didn't want to be the one to steal her hope. Life had a way of doing that all by itself.

They reached the end of the Gallery when suddenly a nearby display clattered to the floor, making a deafening clangor.

Without a second thought, James reached for Charlotte and dove for the floor, shielding her with his body. He closed his eyes as he protected her, braced for shots and flying debris. He was back on the battlefield with cannons firing upon them and his men scattered about. Shouts and moans filled the air, but he kept his position, guarding the woman in his arms.

Only seconds passed before his brain protested those impressions. Cannon fire? A woman in his arms? On the battlefield? He opened his eyes and looked around, realizing his mistake even as his heart continued to pound with fear. A wave of embarrassment rushed over him, heating his entire body. How ridiculous to allow memories to take over. She must think him a fool or worse.

“James?” Charlotte looked up at him, eyes wide, as he helped her sit up. “What was that?”

Relief flooded him at her question. Perhaps she had been as startled by the noise as he. He placed his hands beneath her elbows and assisted her to rise, keeping his gaze on their surroundings. He drew a slow, deep breath with the hope of hiding the true extent of his panic. When would such situations stop causing this reaction? The reminder that he wasn’t well mentally or emotionally was unwelcome now more than ever.

“I'm not certain.” He cleared his throat, hating how weak his voice sounded. “Something obviously fell.” He forced himself to meet her gaze. “I apologize for overreacting.”

“Not at all.” Charlotte managed a smile. “I'm pleased to think I'm with someone who is prepared for whatever may happen.”

That was one way of looking at it. It took only a moment for him to realize he preferred her reason over simply thinking he was losing his mind. But still, he felt the need to offer some explanation. For heaven's sake, he’d thrown her to the ground and covered her with his body. That had to have been a highly unusual and unexpected experience for her.

“I fear my time on the battlefield has caused me to overreact when I hear loud noises.” His face heated at the admission.

Charlotte drew in a small gasp, bringing his gaze to those perfect rosy lips. “Of course. No doubt such sounds during a war mean more trouble is to follow.” She gave a single nod as if his reaction had been reasonable.

But it wasn’t. Even now, his heart continued to pound as if desperate to escape his chest. His mouth was dry, his movements jerky. He glanced around, certain he could see enemy soldiers moving just out of the corner of his eye. None of that was normal. After this many months home, he was beginning to despair that these feelings would ever go away.

Charlotte followed his gaze, a slight frown marring her brow. Was this the moment she realized that he was crazy? She studied him again. “Why don't we find the source of the noise? Surely that will make both of us feel better.”

She tucked her hand under his elbow and started forward, leaving him no choice but to accompany her.

Doing something so normal seemed to ease his upset. He was surprised none of the museum staff or other visitors had come to investigate the sound. He forced himself to search and soon spotted the blank place on the wall where an object should have been.

“There it is,” she exclaimed. “A metal shield fell to the floor. No wonder it made such a clang.” She squeezed his arm even as she smiled at him.

He soaked in her calming manner and allowed it to wash through him. She calmed him, much like an ocean wave erasing marks on a sandy beach, leaving it smooth. He focused on her gentle hold on him, on the slight hint of lavender that surrounded her, and the visions at the corners of his eyes faded.

Perhaps it hadn’t been such a terrible experience to have with her after all. At least, not from his perspective.

~*~

Charlotte looked

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