"Is that truly the only color you own?" Lord Salisbury drawled, the next day.

"Pardon?" Emma was cutting towels into strips to bind about his waist.

"Gray. Always gray. It's depressing." he moaned in a monotone voice.

"It's practical and functional." Emma responded.

He rolled his eyes. "Has it ever occurred to you that a little color would do well to brighten your patient's spirits?"

Emma looked up and glared at him. "No." She returned to her task.

"Well, I can't imagine gray is your favorite color."

"It's not."

When she didn't immediately respond he made a noise of frustration. "Well, what is?"

Emma smiled, "Peach."

"Isn't that just a fancy way of saying orange?"

"No, peach is lighter. Like the sunset."

"How poetic of you. So why don't you wear it?"

"I told you it's not practical."

"Is that the only reason? Or do you not own anything besides gray?"

"I do. But not in, peach."

Emma stood. "Time to change that dressing."

Lord Salisbury sighed. "When can I get out of this bed?"

"When you're stronger."

"I am stronger." He pointed to the empty plate that had held his breakfast of toast and raspberries.

"Yes, but not strong enough." Emma had been working with him daily putting him through maneuvers to regain his strength. He'd lost a lot of muscle mass when he had been unconscious.

Emma helped him sit up in bed and slowly began unwinding the current bandage.

"Did you always want to be a nurse?" he asked.

"No."

Emma set the stained dressing aside. The wound was healing. Still red and swollen but no longer issuing as much pus and drainage.

"What then? You can't be that old. You must want children."

"How kind of you to bring up my age," Emma said gently cleaning the infected area.

"You didn't answer my question." he pointed out.

"I am five and twenty."

"And?"

"And at one time I did want a husband and children. But after my father died that was no longer my decision."

"What does that mean?"

"I am the eldest. I must provide for my family." Emma replied.

"What of your brothers?" Lord Salisbury asked startled.

"I have only one. He is two."

"Oh. And sisters?"

"Six."

"Ah."

Emma began wrapping the new bandage. When finished she helped him adjust in bed.

"And that's all?"

"What do you mean?"

"No beau?"

Emma thought of Peter. Even now the memories still hurt.

"I was engaged once."

Lord Salisbury's eyes lit up. "Indeed? What happened?"

"He ended it."

"Why?"

"When my father died, we learned he had many debts to be paid. My dowry was needed to consolidate them. When Peter learned of this, he broke it off."

Emma had foolishly believed Peter loved her. She was probably better off learning before they married that what he cared about most was money and status.

"Well, he's an ass."

Emma smiled as she cleaned up.

"For once we agree."

And for the first time, Emma saw Lord Salisbury smile.