SWEETAWAKENING

MarjorieFarrell

Prologue

Somerset,1808“What do you think

shewillbelike,Giles?”“Hmmm?”Lady Sabrina

Whitton poked her twinin the ribs. They wereboth stretched out onthe grass on theirfavorite spot: CamdenHill, where one could

see for miles overSomerset. It was a hotday,andGiles,whohaddozed off in the sun,wasrudelyawakenedbyhissister’snotsogentlenudge.

“Quitthat,Sabrina,”hegrowled.

“But what do youthinkshe’slike?”

“Who?” mutteredGiles.

“Who? Who elsewouldIbetalkingaboutbutLadyClareDysart?Iwish Mama and Papahad never invited her.This was to be awonderful summer, andnowwewillhaveababytaggingalongafterus.”

“Hardly a baby,Brina. She’s only threeyears younger than weare.Andyouknowwhyshe is spending the

summer with us. Shehas no one her age athome, and her parentsareworriedabouther.”

“She’s had no onefor ten years. Why arethey all of a suddenworried! Why spoil oursummer?”

Giles raised himselfon one elbow. “I hardlythink one small ten-year-old girl can spoilthings, Brina. She’ll tag

along,andthereisLucyKirkman. She’s onlyeleven, and we caninvite her over to keepLadyClarecompany.”

Sabrina brightened.Lucy had shown thedefinite signs of a firstattack of calf-love thissummer. She wouldprobably jump at thechance to come toWhitton and see Giles.“You are right. I don’t

knowwhyIambeingsoawful about this. It isonly that since youstarted school, we onlyhave summers andholidaystogether.”

Like most twins,Giles and Sabrina wereclose. Although theywere both physicallyand temperamentallyvery different, they hadan almost uncannyabilitytosensewhatthe

other was feeling. Anduntil Giles had left forschool two years ago,they had beeninseparable.

On the surface,Sabrina appeared thestronger personality.She was the one whorushed headlong intothings. Enthusiastic,impatient, impetuous,andverybright,shewasthe despair and delight

of their governess. Sheloved her studies inmathematics andFrench and was boredto tearsby the classics.Giles, on the otherhand, loved literatureand history and couldread classical Greek asthough he had beenborn to it. His Frenchaccent, however, waslaughable. Hisintelligence ran quieter,

deeper, and of the two,he was the betterscholar.

Sabrina, with herdark brown curls anddark brown, almostblack eyes, andsparkling personality,had the air of a gypsy,and in fact, her fatherwould often tease theirmother,sayingthathadshe not had twins, hewould have wondered

what handsome youngRomany had stolen herheart.

Giles had straightbrown hair, which wasalways falling over hiseyes, which lookedbrown or green,depending upon hismood. He looked justlike his father, hismotherwould jokebacktoherhusband.

But they were well

matched, for all theirdifferences.Sabrinahadthe tendency to runheadlong into mischief,and Giles, with thesteadiness thatbalanced his equallyadventurous spirit,would pull them out ofvarious scrapes hissisterhadinvolvedthemin.Theysharedasenseof the ridiculous. Mostimportant of all, they

were devoted to eachother.

****Giles glanced at the

sky. “Damn. We aregoing to be late if wedon’thurry.I’llraceyouhome, Sabrina.” Hejumped up and wasmounted before hissister had taken in hiswords.

“Blast you, littlebrother.” Sabrina had

been born seventeenminutes before Gilesandneverlethimforgetit.Shemountedquicklyandsentherhorseafterhim.

They pulled up, hotand sweaty, justminutesaftertheDysartcoach. The servantswere carrying in LadyClare’s luggage, and asmall figure was beinghelpeddown.She stood

inthedrive,lookinglostand bewildered, andGiles’s heartimmediatelywentouttoher. She was a sprite-like child, smaller thanmost ten-year-olds andwithahalo of pale goldcurls around her face.Giles dismounted firstandhandedthereinsofhis horse to Sabrina,who looked at himwithannoyance. He wiped

hissweatypalmsonhisbuckskins andextending his hand tothe child, introducedhimself.

“GilesWhitton,LadyClare. My sister and Iwereoutridingandlosttrack of the time, soexcuse our dirt.Butwewelcome you toWhitton.”

Clare looked upshylyandwhisperedher

thanks. Her eyes weredark blue, almostpurple, and her lashesblack, despite her faircomplexion.

“Come,” said Giles,holding out his hand.“Let me bring you inand introduce you toMama.” He didn’t eventhrow a glance atSabrina, who was stillmounted, still holdingthe reins of Giles’s

mare. She had neverseenGiles respond thatway to any female.Certainly not LucyKirkman. Somehow sheknew that whatappeared to be a smallthing, Giles’s instantresponse to their smallguest, signaled thateverythingwasabout tochange.

****ClareDysartwasthe

youngest child of theMarquess andMarchioness ofHowland.Theyhadhadtwo children, aboyanda girl, almostimmediately after theirmarriage. Fifteen yearshad passed beforeClare’s birth, and herparents always jokinglyreferred to her as theirmidlife “surprise,”makingitclearthatthey

hadthoughttheirchild-rearingdayswereover.

When Clare arrived,herbrotherwasawayatschool and her sisterwas almost grown. Bythe time Clare turnedfour, her brother hadstarted university andhersister,havinghadabrilliant first Season,had made a verysuccessfulmarriageandwaslivinginKent.

The marquess andmarchioness, havingsettled their elderoffspring, were quitetaken up with oneanother, and althoughthey genuinely lovedtheiryoungest,weretooused to dealing withgrown-up children andtoo dedicated to theirownlivestopayhertheattentionsheneeded.Asa result, Clare came to

think of herself as anafterthought.

She was a veryloving child and adoredher mother and father.She hero-worshiped herolder brother, whotousled her hair andbrought her little treatson his visits down fromOxford, and shedespaired of ever beingquiteasbeautifulasherolder sister. All her

affection remainedunexpressed, however.Shekept ithidden, andno one guessed howmuchshewantedtofeelapartofafamilywhoseways of being togetherhad been set yearsbeforeshearrived.

Herparents thoughtof her as quiet andreserved,neverguessingatthedepthofherneedto love and be loved in

return. They were notunaware of herisolation, however, forthere were no childrenherageandrankintheneighborhood. And so,when she seemed oldenough to travel fromhome alone, they wroteto their old friends, theWhittons,askingiftheirdaughter could spendthe summer inSomerset.

Clare had beenterrified at the thoughtof leaving home. Shemight feel like anoutsider, but it washome and she dreadedmeeting the Whittontwins.Upuntilnowherplaymateshadbeenherdogandherwhitemice,upon whom shelavished all heraffection.Shewasalsoa

great reader andmovedeasily in the realm offancy. The thought ofbeing forced to talk toand be with a brotherandsisterwhonodoubtwould regard her as aburden, made thejourney to Whitton amisery.

She had steppeddown from the carriage,frozen by her fear andshyness and looked up

into the friendly, warmeyes of Giles. Sheimmediately recognizedthat in him she hadprotector and achampion, and some ofher terror disappeared.She had found a SirGalahad, she thought,ashetookherhandandledhertothedoor.

****Sabrina,whoatfirst

thought shewould hate

ClarefortakingsomeofGiles’s attention, foundthis impossible. It wasclear that Clare did nothavea guileful ormeanbone in her body, andthat she looked up toboth theWhitton twins.Sabrina discovered sheliked being admired forher adventurous spirit.Too often she wascriticized for beinghoydenish, but clearly

Clare thought she waswonderful.

When theydiscovered that Clarewas an excellent, albeitcautious rider, theybeganto includeherontheir favorite rides. Atfirst she was quiet,listening to theircontinuous chatter andgiving only one- or two-word answers to theireffortstoincludeher.By

the end of the firstweek,however, shewasopening up more, andher innocent, butrevealingrepliestotheirquestions about herfamily made both GilesandSabrinarealizehowlucky theywere tohavetheir parents and eachother.

“I feel beastly now,that I didn’t want herhere,” said Sabrina one

afternoonwhensheandGiles were waiting forClare to join them for aride. “She sounds soalone and ... well, notprecisely unloved. Butimagine one’s parentsreferring to one as a‘surprise’! Of course,Mama and Papa arealwaysjokingabouthowyou were unexpected,Giles,” teasedhissister.

“Theywere thrilledwiththeir firstborn, andthen, just as they wereboth admiring her,alongcamethesonandheir.”

“Now you know themidwife had told themMama was big enoughfor twins. It must havebeendifficult,thosefirstfew months, dealingwith such a demandinginfant as yourself,

especially since Mamadeclinedawetnurse.”

They both smiled atthe thought of theirunfashionable mother,who, as she had oftentoldthem,couldn’tbearthe thought of sendingthemtosomeoneelseorseparatingthemsoearlyon. They had alwaysknown they were luckyin their parents, buthad rather taken it for

granted until Clarecamealong.

****That first summer

was almost perfect.Almost,becauseofLucyKirkman.

Lucy, who was thedaughter of the localsquire, rode over onClare’s third day. MissKirkman was a ratherprecociouselevenandahalf, physically as well

as temperamentally,and as Sabrina hadguessed, had developeda tendre forGiles.Gileswas oblivious to Lucy’scondition and treatedher as he treated alltheir neighborhoodcompanions.

He had certainlynever treated her assolicitously as he didthe Lady Clare Dysart,and Lucy resented it

immediately. She wasintroduced to a shy,elfin creature, whoseemed to be attachedtoGiles’s coat sleeve. Itwas obvious that Gilesassumed that Lucywould be pleased tohave an additionalplaymate, and so sheacted delighted. Butunderneaththemaskoffriendliness was anangry jealousy.Shehad

hopedtocaptureGiles’sattention with her newriding habit, whichattractively outlined herdeveloping figure, andhe hardly gave her asecondglance.

If there wasanything that broughtouttheworstinLucy,itwas vulnerability. Shegot along well withSabrina because sheknew Sabrina wouldn’t

let her get away withany bullying. ButClare’s shy passivitymade her want totormenther,andsoshedid.

Not openly at first.Lucy could be verysubtlymean, and so onvarious occasions thatthey all were together,she would makecomments about howkind Giles was, how

self-sacrificing, all in awaythatmadeClarefeelthatshewasonlyasortof charity case. Shebegan to worry thatGileswasspendingtimebeing nice to her whenhe would rather be offexploringwithhissisterandLucy.

Lucy had uncannilygone right to hergreatest weakness: thefeeling that she was

someonewhohad comealongatthewrongtime,who needed moreattention than peoplehadthedesiretogive.

Gradually, as Clarebecame more at homewith the twins, Lucy’sattacksbegantobelesssubtle.Shewould invitethetwinsoverinfrontofClare and makehalfhearted apologies toher for leaving her out,

always putting it downtoClare’sage.

Sabrina saw whatwas going on almostimmediately and wouldturn Lucy’s commentsoff with a smile,managing to get Clareincluded after all. Gilesdidn’t notice a thing.Since Lucy Kirkmandidn’t interest him inthe least, the thoughtnever crossed his mind

thatshemightbeseeinghim as anything morethananoldplaymate.

Infact,hehadneveryet felt anything morethan a friendly interestina female.His feelingsfor Clare wereuncomplicated: shecalled forth all hischivalrous impulses.Hehad felt sorry forheratfirst. Lucy had beenrightaboutthat.Buthe

also genuinely came tolike her as he got toknow her better. Shewas younger, smaller,and far more fragilethanhissister,andshegave him theopportunity to feelprotective for the firsttime. It made him feelstrong and manly, andhe enjoyed the feeling,as well as theflatteringly grateful

glances Clare gave himwith those purple-blueeyes.

****Along the course of

the summer, Lucyprogressed to outrightteasing,whichshemadeseem good-natured.When they all wentfishing one afternoon,Clare disgraced herselfby crying over the taskofbaitingherownhook.

After Giles patted hershoulder and did thedistasteful job for her,Lucy lost control andspilled the small basketof wriggling worms intoClare’slap.

Noonehadseenherdo it, and when Clarejumped up with ahorrified shriek, Lucylaughed andimmediately apologizedsweetly for the

“accident.” She hadtripped over a tree rootand would not haveupset little Clare foranything. As Gilesrushed over to comforthis small guest, Lucydared Clare with hereyestotellthetruth.

Clare could onlylook back at her, wide-eyed with hurt andutterly incapable ofdefending herself. It

wasn’t that she hadn’tsensed Lucy’s hostility,butatfirst,shethoughtitjustified.Afterall,shewas a nuisance, atagalong, anafterthought, even here.At the same time, shecouldn’t understand itat all, for she hadnothing in her ownrange of emotion withwhich to compare it.She had never had any

desire to tease or hurtanyone,andsoshewasparalyzed by Lucy’sattacks.

She would neverhave wanted to hurtLucy. Why would Lucywant to hurt her? Whywould anyone want totormentanyone,forthatmatter? And so shestoodmute and passiveas Giles brushed themud off her dress. And

it was that verymuteness and lack ofreactionthatmadeLucywant to dump anotherbasketofwormsonher.How could she juststand there and notfight back? Not saysomething? Not revealwhatawitch,she,Lucy,had been these pastweeks? Clare stoodthere,withthatpatheticwounded look in her

eyes,asGilescomfortedher.Why,itwasjustasthough shewere askingforit!

And so, when Gilesled Clare over to thestream to clean off herhands, Lucy couldn’thelp herself. ShepushedClarein,saying:“There, you great baby,thatwillcleanyouoff!”

The stream wasshallow, and there was

no real danger, as bothGilesandLucyknew.Infact, Clare was alreadyscrambling to her feetby the time Gilesrecovered from hissurprise and waded into “save” her. But thelook of distaste on hisface when he turnedback to Lucyoverwhelmed her, andshe choked back a sobof anger and grief,

grabbed her pole andbasket, and walked offwithout a backwardglance.

Sabrinawatchedhergo, glad that Giles hadat last seen the realLucy.Shelikedtheiroldplaymate but had beenratherworriedthatonceshe set her heart onGiles, she wouldsomehow finally gethim. After all, many a

matchwasmade in thecountry before a girlevengottoLondonforaSeason. She turnedback to her brother,whohadstrippedoffhisshirt andwas wrappingit around a bedraggledand dripping Clare.Sabrina wondered asshe walked over tocomfort their newfriend, if perhaps Lucyhad a reason to be

jealousafterall.****

That first summerset the pattern for thenext four. Clare wouldarrive at the beginningof July and stay for sixweeks. Clare becamemore sure of herselfafter the obviouswarmth of her welcomeback the second year.She becamemore of anequalas theyearswent

byandthedifference intheir ages meant less,but she never lost heradmirationforSabrina’sspiritorheraffectionforGilesasher“Galahad.”

Giles was her hero,ever since that firstsummer when he hadfinally seen LucyKirkman for what shewas.HehadsavedClarefrom her tormentor,threatening Lucy with

immersion in themanure pile if she everhurtClareagain,leavingLucy cowed anddistantly friendly toClare,eversince.

****Giles was also her

friend.Heandshecouldtalk about books forhours. And, sheeventually realized,Giles was becomingsomethingmore.

Ithappened the lastsummer they were alltogether, the summerbefore Giles was to goup to university. It wasthe end of August, andthe three of them hadplanned to go berryingon Clare’s next to lastday. But that morningSabrina sent wordthroughherabigail thatthe summer cold shehad been fighting had

finallywon,andshewasgoing to spend the dayin bed. So Giles andClare went alone, afteranearlybreakfast.

It was a gloriousday. The heat of thepast week had beenbroken by an eveningthunderstorm, andeverything was madefresh and green andsparkling again, asthoughitwereJune,not

August. As they walkedtotheraspberrythicket,Clare and Giles chattedeasily, and perhapsnothing would havechanged,were itnot forthefox.

Gilessawherfirst,aquivering flameweavingherselfinandoutoftheraspberry brambles. Hestopped and put hishand on Clare’s arm.“Look, Clare,” he

whispered.Giles had touched

her before, she wassure.Hemusthaveovertheyears.Thenwhydidit feel as though thiswasthefirsttime?Theystood very still, andGiles kept his hand onher arm thewhole timethey watched the vixenmake her way so closeto them. Then, at thesame moment it

seemed, Giles becameawareofwherehishandwas,andthefoxbecameaware of them and wasgone in a moment,leaving them eachflusteredbythephysicalintimacy.

“Well, that issomething that Sabrinawill be sorry shemissed,” said Gilesnervously, bringing hissister into the

conversation as thoughthat would make herphysicallypresent.

“It was wonderful,Giles,” said Clare, andshe was not surewhether she meant thesight of the fox or thesensationofhistouch.

It was a blackraspberry bramble, andthefruitsparkledgarnetand onyx. Every leaf,every tinyhair on every

berry leaped out atClareindetail,soawakeand aware was she. Asshe picked, she put afew ripe berries in hermouth and tasted rainandsunandsweetness.

“Now, Clare, savesome for Mrs. Pleck, orwe will have noraspberry crumble fortea,” teased Giles as hepopped a berry into hisownmouth.

Clare watched hisarmreachout.Shehadnever noticed beforehow brown his armswereinthesummerandhow the hair on themwas bleached gold bythesun.Hewaswearinga light cottonshirtwiththe sleeves rolled up,and as he reachedagain,shecouldseehisarmmusclesripple.Shewas so flustered by the

languorous feeling thatwas stealing over herthatshethrustherarmintoreach foraclusterof ripe berries andjerkeditbackwithalowcry.

Gileswasathersideimmediately. “You haveto go slowly andcarefully,Clare,”hesaidsympathetically as shelooked at her arm. Onescratch was deep, and

the beads of bloodwelling up looked liketinyberries.Gilespattedher armgentlywith thetail of his shirt whileClareprotested.

“Close your eyes,Clare, and open yourmouth,” he chanted theold childhood charm,“and I will give yousomething to make youfeelbetter.”

Clare tilted her face

toward him. Gilesplacedafewripeberriesonher tongue,and justassheclosedhermouthover themandbegan toopenhereyes,heleanedoverandkissedher.

Although it was asoftandgentlekiss,theintensityoftheirfeelingssurprised them both.Giles drew backimmediately,embarrassed and

ashamed. Clare wasonly fourteen, hardlyout of childhood,although her body wasbeginning to look like awoman’s,herealized,asforthefirsttimehetookinthesoftcurvesofher.

When she openedher eyes,he stammeredsomething about howhis mother wouldalways tell him as achild that a kiss would

make itbetter, trying toput the moment in asafe and familiarcontext.

“But I am sorry,Claire,Ishouldnothavedonethat.”

Clare wondered athis apology. Shesupposed he was right;he should not havekissed her. Giles hadsurprised her, but shehad also surprised

herself. Shewouldhavehad the kiss go onlonger, with the sunbeating down uponthem and the sweetberry juice runningdownherthroatandthesoft pressure of Giles’slips making her feel aswetandjuicyasaberryitself.

Theyfilledtheirpailsquickly,andbythetimethey reached Whitton,

their everydaycamaraderie hadreasserted itself. Butwhen Clare returnedhome to Rowland, shewasveryhappytothinkabout her parents’commentsover thepasttwo years. “It would bean ideal match,” herfather had told hermother.

Andso,althoughtheregularvisitscametoan

end that summer, shekept up acorrespondence withSabrina and the twofamilies sometimes gottogether for a holiday.There was no formalagreement, but it wasassumed by both theWhittons and theDysartsthatbythetimeGiles was down fromOxford and Clare cameup for her first Season,

theirchildrenwouldseewhat an ideal coupletheywouldmake.

ChapterOne

London,1816Lady Straiton’s ball

always took place onThursdayeveningofthethird week of theSeason. It was her wayof ensuring that herswould be the first realcrush,forshepurposelywaited until everyonehad arrived in London,

even theWhittons, whoinvariably came up totownlate.

“It gets worse everyyear,” complained theearl, as he peered outthe coach windowstrying to see if thecarriages in front ofthemweremovingatall.“I always swear we willdecline the invitation,anddamnedifyoudon’talways talk me into it,

Helena.”“Now, William, you

knowonecannot refusethe countess. Why,when theAllendalesdidoneyear,shemadesurethey were hardly seenanywhere else.” LadySabrinastoleaglanceather brother, who, asoften happened, wasturning to her at thesame time to share hisamusement. Although

Giles had not been awitness to this littlecontretemps for fouryears as Sabrina had,he was familiar enoughwith similar scenes,both inLondonand thecountry,with his fatherprotesting a socialobligation and hismothergentlybutfirmlypersuadinghimintoit.

“I have to confess Isympathize with

Father,” said Giles. “Iam not looking forwardto being squeezed andtrampled on the dancefloor.But I bow to yourgreater social wisdom,Mama,”headdedwithateasinggrin.

His mother rappedhimwithherfan.“Don’tencourage your father,Giles.AndIthoughtyouwould be lookingforward to this evening.

The Dysarts will bethere,andyouhavenotseen Clare for over ayear.”

“We are finallymoving,”interruptedtheearl, not wanting hiswife to go further. Hewas hoping, nay,planningonthismatch,which he consideredideal for both families,but knew that thequickest way to put up

ayoungman’sbackwasto push him at someeligible young lady.Andthis would be the firstoccasion that Gileswould bemeeting Clareas an eligible match.Whatever the unspokenunderstanding up untilnow,Clarehadbeentooyoung and Giles toobusy taking his first inClassics to see eachother as anything but

oldfriends.While the earl

trusted to thedeepandlong friendship betweenthem, many thingscouldhappen ina girl’sfirst Season. And ayoung man’s, for thatmatter. For althoughGiles had come toLondon off and on, thiswouldbethefirstspringthathisattentionwouldbe free and undivided.

And there would bemanynewandattractiveyoung ladies presentbesideClare.

The earl need nothave worried. By thatlast summer, Giles hadknown that he lovedher.Ithadgrownslowly,this love, developednaturally andorganically out of theirold friendship. He hadnever spoken of it,

however, even toSabrina. And especiallynot to Clare, althoughhe was sure she mustknow how he felt. Onone hand, he wasabsolutely certain thatshe felt the same wayand at the end of herfirst Season wouldannounce theirbetrothal.On the other,hewasstillprotectiveofher. What if, by some

small chance, he werewrong?What if shemetsomeone during thisspring? He knew Clareverywell: ifhespoke toher, if he revealed hisfeelings too soon, thenshewouldfeelunderanobligation, both to himand their two families.So he had decided toleave her free for therestof thespringbeforedeclaringhimself.

****Afterwhatseemeda

week,theircoachpulledup to the Straiton’sfront steps. There wasanotherwaitbeforetheywere announced.Although, as GilesmutteredtoSabrina,hecouldn’tseethepointofannouncing theirarrival, since no onecould hear anythingoverallthenoise.

They pushed theirway slowly through thecrowd toward theballroom, where Gilesbegan searching forClare. He hadn’tthought he was beingobvious, but Sabrinatugged his sleeve andsaid, “There she is,Giles, over there. I amsoeagertoseeher.Anddoesn’t she lookdelightful?”Shetookher

brother’s arm and lethimmake a path alongtheedgeoftheballroomuntil they came to thesmall group of whichClarewasapart.

Clare looked morethan delightful, thoughtGiles ashe greetedher.She was dressed in apale lavender silk gownwith a silver gauzeoverskirt.Adarkpurpleribbon was threaded

throughherblondcurls,which made her eyeslookviolet.

Giles realized anewhow pretty shewas.Hehad never seen herdressedforaballbefore.And he had put theirsummer kiss out of hismind.Buthe feltdesirestir as he gazed downinto her eyes. She wasfully a woman, herealized, as he glanced

down, appreciating thewaythesilkclungtoherunder the neartransparent overdress.His eyes went to hersweetlyroundedbreastswhich were exposedenough to make hergown fashionable butnot immodest. Gileswondered how it wouldfeel to brush his handagainst one. When hehadresolvedtokeephis

feelings to himself for awhile, he had notreckoned on theintensity of his desire,only the strength of hislove. It was going to bemuch more difficultthanhethoughttodelayhisproposal.

He found himselfstammering out someridiculously obviouscomment about thecrowd while Sabrina

movedforwardandgaveClareahug.

“It is so good to seeyou again at last,” hissister said, while Gilesstood tongue-tied. “Howareyoulikingyourcomeout? I am sure yourcard has been full fromyourfirstevening.”

Clare smiled. “Notalwaysfull,Sabrina,butIhaven’thadtoholdupthewall for longer than

a dance or two on anyoneevening.”

“I should hope not,”declaredherfriend.

Giles finally foundhis voice. “I hope youwill be able to find oneformetonight?”

Clare looked overhercardcarefully.“Iamnot sure but that I cansqueeze you in, why inan hour or two,” shereplied. As she saw

Giles frown, sheimmediatelyreachedouther hand to touch hisarm in reassurance. “Ofcourse, I am onlyfunning, Giles. In fact,after this next country-dance, I am free for acotillionifyouwish?”

“Clare, Clare, youmust play harder toget,” said a familiarvoice. Both Giles andSabrina looked over in

surpriseastheyrealizedthat Lucy Kirkman wasa member of Clare’sgroup. “I cannot fit youin until the end of theevening,Giles,”shesaidwithateasingsmile.

“Well,thelastdanceit will be, Lucy,” hereplied, moving over toherside.

“Whatever are youdoing, hanging aroundwith that cat,” Sabrina

whisperedtoClare.“Why, she has been

verykindtome. Iknewso few people, and shehas introduced mearound and made mefeel comfortable,Sabrina.”

“I amsure it is onlybecause it makes herlook kinder than she isand enables her to feelsuperior, Clare.” And ifshe isclosetoyou, it is

insurance that she willbe close to Giles,thought Sabrina. Lucyhad never again shownwhatSabrinathoughtofas her real self to herbrother after that firstsummer, and Giles andClare seemed to haveforgotten her behavior.ButSabrinadidn’ttrusther an inch and beganto worry that Lucymight manage to snag

her brother after all.AndwhatdefensewouldClarehaveagainsther?

****If Sabrina was

correctaboutLucy,thenMiss Kirkman musthavebeenveryunhappyduring the next fewweeks. Indeed, morethana fewyoung ladieslooked forward to theViscount Whitton’sappearance, for he was

not only the heir to theEarl of Amesford, butmost attractive in hisown right, with hischangeable hazel eyesand athletic physique.But after that firstdance, there was neverany doubt in anyone’smind that Giles waspresenting himself asClare’ssuitor.

Giles did his bestnottomonopolizeClare,

for he really did wanther tohaveachance tomeet a wide range ofyoung men. When shefinally accepted him,which he fully expectedshewould,hewanted itto be out of choice, notfamiliarity.

But it was hard tokeep away. The stirringof desire he had felt onthat first night hadquickened into

something muchstronger, and Gilesfound himself lookingfor opportunities tobrush Clare’s arm orkeep a hand on herwaistalittlelongerthanwas necessary in adance. He went gentlyand slowly, however.She never pulled awayfrom physical contact,but he was never surewhether she felt a

matching desire. Buther seeming innocenceregarding his growingattraction only madehimfeelmoreprotective,and he enjoyedfantasizing how hewouldbeher teacher intheartofmakinglove.

Clare was delightedby Giles’s attentions.She had wondered allyear about this Season.She knew that both

families assumed aneventual engagement. Itwas certainly what shewanted. What could bemore ideal thantohavehergood friendGilesasherhusband?

And her first fewweeks in London didnothing to change hermind. Despite the factthat she was meetinghandsomer young menand more sophisticated

olderones,therewasnoonetocomparewithhermemories of Giles. Shehad worried that hemight have changed.After all, she was notanythingsoveryspecial.What if he arrived intown and immediatelyfellinlovewithsomeonelikeLucyKirkman?Shecouldhardlyblamehim,for Lucy and the otheryoung women were

much more attractiveandconfidentthanshe.

But Giles made itclear that nothing hadchanged, and within aweek, their relationshipwas as easy and closeasithadeverbeen.Andperhaps a little moreinteresting,forClarewasaware of Giles’s touchwhen they brushedhands over a glass of

punch, or when hepulledhera little closerthan was necessaryduring a dance. Shefound it very pleasant,this new dimension totheirfriendship.

Clare was sure thatGiles would proposebefore the end of theSeason, and shewould,of course, accept. Shebegan to let herselfindulgeindaydreamsof

their life together ashusbandandwife.Theywould read to eachotheratnightinfrontofa cozy fire and thenretire early.Gileswouldkisshergentlyandholdher close. Eventuallythey would havechildren.Perhapstwins,for didn’t that run infamilies? And grow oldtogether. Clare wouldhave tears in her eyes

whenshepicturedthemgray-haired, walkingslowly around thegarden at Whitton, andhearingthesoundsfromthe lawn where theirgrandchildren would beplaying.

****“Whenareyou going

toofferforClare?”askedSabrina. She and Gilesusually breakfasted

early, before theirparents got up, and sotheywerealone.

Giles groaned. “Is itthat obvious? I havebeentryingnottobe,ortocrowdhertoomuch.”

“Perhaps it wouldnot be to anyone whodidn’tknowyouwell.Orthe situation. But we’veall taken it for grantedforyears,haven’twe?”

“That’sexactlywhyI

haven’t wanted topresume too much. Iwanted to make surethat Clare feels freewhenshesays ‘yes.’"heanswered.

“Aha! So you doassumesuccess!”

“I am reasonablyconfident, Brina,” saidher brother, with asmile.“Afterall,wehaveloved each other asfriends for a long time.

That is a very strongfoundation for amarriage.”

“What of passion,Giles? Do you feel thatforClare?”

Giles felt his facegrow warm. “Really,Sabrina, you should bethe one blushing afteraskingsuchaquestion,”heanswered.

“But it is an

importantone,don’tyouagree?”

Giles cleared histhroat. “Speaking formyself, I can say that Ifeel a growing, mm,physical attraction toClare.”

“AndClare?”Really,hissisterwas

incorrigible, thoughtGiles.“Sheisclearlynotrepelled by physicalcontact.”

“But has sheresponded?”

“Sabrina, this isreally none of yourbusiness.”

“Oh,Giles, don’t getprimandproperonme.Of course it is. I loveyouandwantyoutobehappy.Mama and Papahave always had astrong response to oneanother. We have bothhad that as a model,

andspeakingformyself,I will not settle foranythingless.”

“Andisthatwhyyouarestilllooking?”

“Don’t try to changethesubject,Giles.”

“I have beenproceeding slowlybecause of Clare’sinnocence,Sabrina.”

“Then she hasn’tmaneuveredyououtsideforakiss?”

“Ofcoursenot.”Sabrina laughed.

“Well, Lucy Kirkmanwouldhavebynow.”

“Lucy Kirkman?Whateverhasshegottodo with this?” Gilesresponded, completelybaffled.

“Oh,justthatIhavethought she’s had hereye on you for years. Iwondered whether youmight finally have

noticed it. In fact, Iworried a little aboutClare...”

“There is not, norever could be anyonebut Clare for me,Sabrina,” her brotherreplied seriously. “Ithink I probably startedto love her the day shearrived at Whitton,looking so lost andlonely.”

Sabrinasighed.

“Ihavejustdeclaredmypassion,andyouarestill not satisfied?”teasedGiles.

“Oh,don’tmockme,Giles. I am sure myfantasy of the perfectmarriage is just that, afantasy. It isonly that Iwould not want a manto be too much myprotector. I havealwaysbelieved that truepassion can only exist

when a man and awoman feel that theygive to each otherequally.And Iambeingvery stupid, you areright,”sheconfessed.“Itwas clear from the firstthatyouandClareweremade for each other. Iam sure that passionneedn’t spring upovernight, butmay alsogrow slowly. Indeed, I’llprobablybewarmingmy

cold,spinsterlyhandsinfront of your fire foryearstocome.”

Giles reassured hissister that therewasnopossible chance of herremaining a spinster.After she left, he sat byhimself a few minutes,overacoldcupofcoffee.He adored his sister,and in some ways wascloser to her than hewastoClare.Andyethe

knew he would neverhave chosen tomarry awoman likeSabrina.Hedisagreed with her. Hebelieved that passionbetween a man and awoman was sparkedpartially, if not wholly,by the fact that awoman depended on aman. Clare was theperfect wife for him.However, he thought itwould do no harm to

maneuver Clare onto abalcony for a kiss, justtotesthistheory.

****Accordingly, after a

vigorous country-dancewith her at LadyBellingham’s rout thenext night, Giles askedClare if she would liketo step out into thegarden. When shesmiled shyly andagreed,Gilesledherout

and they spent fiveminuteswalkingupanddownthepathadmiringtheflowersandchattingcomfortably aboutnothing in particular.There were a few othercouples outside also,but Giles purposelyguided them down apath that led toasmallgardenbench.

“Come, sit downnext to me, Clare,” he

said.Clare sat gingerly

near the edge of thebench. She might beinexperienced, but shewas not stupid. Sheknew she was about toreceive a kiss, andalthough she wasnervous, she would notact coyly reluctant, notwhen she had beenwondering about thepossibility of another

kiss for the last fouryears.

When he put bothhandsonhershouldersto turnher towardhim,sheclosedhereyesandlifted her face. Gilessmiled down at thesight: she was allexpectant naiveté, andhe leaned down andbrushed her lips lightlyatfirst.Clare’seyesflewopen, and as he gazed

down into them, heslipped his handsaround her waist andneck and bringing heruptohim,closeenoughtofeelherbreastsbrushhis chest, leaned downto kiss her again, thistime less gently andmoreinsistently.

He could feel hershiver and slowly triedto tease her mouthopen. She didn’t resist

him. Indeed, shetentativelybegantokisshim back. But she wasafraidof thestrengthofherownfeelings,andsoher lips never parted.Gilespulledawayafteramoment, and assumingthatClarewasovercomewith shyness, graspedher hand and led herback down the path,chatting about this andthat until she began to

relax. When theyreached the ballroom,she looked up at himand said softly: “Thankyou, Giles,” and thenhurried off to joinSabrina and a group ofherfriends.

Gileswatchedhergoand thought that all inall, even though it wasnot quite the kiss hehadwanted,ithadbeena successful attempt.

Clarewasobviouslyoneof those women whowould be slow todiscover the passionateside of her nature, buthe felt theyhadmadeagood beginning tonight,and he intended to getheraloneagainsoon.

****When Clare crawled

under the covers thatnight, she replayed thesceneinthegarden.She

hadneverforgottenthatfirst kiss. And thissecond had not beendisappointing. She hadfelt the same rush oflonging, the sameshakiness in her legs,the same desire for thekisstogoonforever.

Yet she had been alittle frightened of herfeelings. Had Giles alsowished that the garden,the flowers, the people

inside the ballroomwould fall away so thatall that existed was thetwo of them? Did heeven remember theirfirst kiss? He had nodoubt kissed manywomensincethen.Whatmade her special?Perhaps he had onlykissed her because itwas expected of twopeople whose betrothalwaspracticallyassured?

The intensity of herresponse and herinability tocommunicate it to himthrustherbackintothechildish insecurity shehad never quite leftbehind. Her love andaffection felt lockedinside her. She neededGiles to open the door,to show that he lovedandneededher,tomeether newly awakening

passionwithhisown.Buttheywouldhave

another opportunity,she reassured herself.Perhaps even tomorrownight at the Carstairs’sball.

ChapterTwoAn invitation to the

Carstairs’s ball was asign that one was partof the crème de lacrème,andsotherewasquite a ripple ofconversation when LordJustin Rainsboroughwasannounced.Atfirst,no one recognized hisname, but then one olddowager remembered

that he was a distantcousinofLadyCarstairswho had spent the lastfive years in the WestIndies and had justreturned uponinheriting the title fromthe recently deceasedEarlRainsborough.

Miss Lucy Kirkman,who had caught thislast tidbit, hurried overto the edge of theballroom where Clare

and Sabrina werestanding with a fewotheryoungladies.

“ThatisthenewEarlRainsborough,” sheannounced.“Isn’thethemost devastatinglyhandsome man youhave ever seen?” shewhispered. Sabrinasmiled toherself as shewatched Lucy subtlyadjusthergownso thatthebodicewas lowerby

ahalfaninch.Clare looked across

the floor to where LordRainsborough stoodsurveyingthecrowd.Hisgaze met hers in thatinstant, and she turnedaway, embarrassed tobe caught staring. ButLucy was right. He wasthe most striking manshe had ever seen. Hewas tall, well built, anddressed all in black,

which together with hisblack hair and tannedfacemadehisgrayeyesquitestartling.

What would it belike, she wondered, asshe listened to theconversation aroundher, to be held in hisarms. She wasimmediately horrified tobe fantasizing abouthim, for wasn’t shealmost a betrothed

woman?Not tomentionthe fact that she washardlythesortofyounglady who would attractsuch aman’s attention.Lucy Kirkman wasmuchmorehistype.

****It was therefore no

surprise when LordRainsborough,accompanied by hishostess,was introducedto Lucy and the cluster

of young men andwomenaroundher.Theyoung men includedhim in their discussionof the current derbyfavorites,butsinceLordRainsborough was butnewly arrived inEngland, he couldhardly contribute hisopinion.

Clare had neverbeforebeensoawaketoa man’s presence, even

Giles. She could feelhim with every cell inherbody,andeverycellseemed to be quiveringlike blancmange. Whenhe turned toward theladies,shefoundherselffussing with herbracelet, snapping andunsnapping the clasp.In amoment, he wouldask Lucy to dance andshecouldrelax.

Whensheheardhim

addressherinstead,shewas so flustered thatshe left her braceletundone and it slippedoff her wrist and fellright at the earl’s feet.Without thinking, Clarereached down to pick itup at the same time asRainsborough and theirhands met. His touchmade all the hairs onherarmstandup.

“Here is your

bracelet, Lady Clare,”said the earl, smilingdownather.

Clare was crimsonwith embarrassment.“Thankyou,mylord.”

“Here, let me fastenit for you,”headdedasshe fumbled with theclasp. Clare extendedherarmandshiveredashe gently closed it overherwrist.

“This is a lovely

piece. I see it matchesyoureyesperfectly.”

It was a prettycompliment, thoughhardly original. Butsomehow, LordRainsborough’s tonemadeClare feel that noonehadeverreallyseenher eyes before. A thrillwent through her, butshe recovered enoughpresence of mind tothankhimforhishelp.

“I was wondering ...although I hardly thinkit would be likely ...wouldyouhaveadancefree this evening?”Rainsboroughasked.

Infact,Claredidnothave a dance free. Butshe couldn’t bear thethought of lettingRainsboroughgo, forhewould never ask heragain. She glanced overher card. Captain

Bartonwasdownforthenext cotillion. Did shehave thecourage to lie?Toinsultaperfectlyniceyoungman?She lookedup and saw LordRainsborough’spleadinglook and threw cautionand courtesy to thewinds.

“Why,asamatteroffact, it seems like mynextdanceisfree.”

Clare was very

grateful that the dancewas struck almostimmediately and thatCaptain Barton wasacross the room. Sheand the earl moved offbefore her promisedpartnercouldreachher.

Itwasas thrilling tohaveRainsborough leadher through the danceasshe thought itwouldbe. He never drew hertoo close, but just the

feel of his hand aroundher waist as they cametogetherinthefiguresofthe dance was enoughto make her feel asthough she had nobones.

They did not speak,but let themselves belostinthemusic.Itwassurprising, but despitethe differences in theirheightsandthefactthatit was his first time

partneringher, it felt toClare that they hadbeen dancing togetherfor years, so easily didtheymovetogether.

When Rainsboroughreturned her to hercompanions and bowedhis thanks and walkedaway, she watched himgowithherheartinherheels. That was that:the first and last timeClare Dysart would

dance with the mosthandsome, charmingman in London. But hehaddancedwithherandnotLucyKirkmanortheHonorable SusanMaxwell, so that wassomething.

Laterintheevening,when Giles came toclaim one of his dancesand take her intosupper, she was

unusually quiet. Herbody was still in thearms of LordRainsborough, howeverridiculous the feeling. Itwas certainly not withGiles. She movedthrough the rest of theevening like asleepwalker, hardlynoticing Giles’s handwhenitbrushedhersatsupper.

And later, when

Giles asked if shewished to step outsidefor some fresh air, shetook his arm andallowedhim to leadherout without eventhinking about hisintentions. When heleaneddowntokissher,she experienced only afleetingly pleasantsensation and Gilespulledaway,puzzledbyherlackofresponse.

“Areyoufeelingwell,Clare? You seem a bitdistracted. Or are mykisses too respectful,”headdedwithasmile.“Ipromise you, they neednotbe.”

Clare felt terrible.This was Giles, herdearest friend and hereshe was, distracted bythe memory of a lighttouch from a completestranger.

“I apologize, Giles.Of course it is not yourkisses. I am just rathertired tonight. I dancedeverydance,youknow.”

“I hear you evenjiltedBartonforadancewith the mysteriousLord Rainsborough. Heseems to be quite acharmer.Hemanagedtoget Lady Allendale onthefloor,andsherarelydanceswithanyonebut

her husband and hersons,”heteased.

Clare couldunderstand LordRainsborough’s successvery well. She thoughtshe would have thesameresponsetohimatfifty or seventy as shehad tonight. She wasimmediatelyhorrifiedbyher thoughts. Here shewas imagining herselfwithsomeoneelseother

than Giles, as thoughLord Rainsborough hadaskedher tomarryhimandshehadagreedandwas fantasizing abouttheir long life together.She resolved towipe allsuchunrealisticdreamsout of her mind andconcentrateonGiles.Hehadnotdeclaredhimselfyet, but she wasconfidenthewould.Anditwastohimshewould

promise her love andloyalty.

****Clare would have

kept to her resolve hadRainsborough ignoredher. But he didn’t. Thedayafter theCarstairs’sball, she received asmall corsage of violetswith a sweet note fromhim thanking her fortheirdanceandmakinga comparison between

the flowers and hereyes. That night at amusicale, he made anobvious beeline for her,and Clare was verymuch aware of thewhispers around her.And later in the week,when LordRainsborough calledand asked if he couldhaveher company for ashort stroll in the parkthatafternoon,Claredid

notknowwhattosay.She had no other

commitments, butGilesdid tend to drop by inthe afternoons and soshe often kept themfree. But they had noformal plans, after all,she thought,suppressing a pang ofguilt. Giles did rathertake it for granted thatshe would be available

for his company.Stirring up a little self-righteous annoyancehelped her push Giles’sdisappointed faceoutofhermind.ShesmiledatLord Rainsborough,thanked him for hislovely flowers, andagreedtowalkwithhim.

Of course, herabigail accompaniedthem. And since it wasalmost the fashionable

hour, they were hardlyalone. Yet it felt asthough the earl haddrawnaprotectivecirclearound them. He wasattentive,charming,andamusing as he told hertalesoftheWestIndies.Clarewas fascinated byhis descriptions ofexoticflowersandbirds.

“But I have beenmonopolizing thisconversation,” he said

apologetically. "Tell mesomething aboutyourself,LadyClare.”

“Indeed, there isverylittletotell,”repliedClare with a nervouslaugh.“I’mafraidIhavenever traveled fartherthan to GlastonburywiththeWhittons.”

“Ah, yes. ViscountWhitton and LadySabrina.Theyseem likeadelightfulpair.”

Clare’s face lit up.“Yes, they are mydearest friends, almostlike family.” She wentontoexplainhowmuchyounger she was thanher own brother andsister.

“I amhappy tohearyou describe them asfamily,LadyClare,”saidRainsborough. “I hadheard rumors that youand Whitton were

promised to oneanother.”

Clare flushed.“There is no officialbetrothal,my lord.Thatis, Giles has not askedme yet, although I amsurehewill ...oh,dear,that sounds quite boldofme,doesn’t it?”Why,she thought, was shedownplayingwhatwasavery real, albeitunspoken

understanding? Andwhy was LordRainsborough happy tohave her describe Gilesinbrotherlyterms?

“Then there is noreal reason for you toturn away anothersuitor, my lady?” LordRainsborough asked insuch a tone that Clarefelt he was actuallycaressing her with hisvoice. But before she

could even think of aresponse, he turnedthem around and innormal accents said, “Ithink I see an oldacquaintanceoverthere.Come, let me introduceyou.”

The next day, whenClare had received asmall box of candiedvioletsfromtheearlanda note thanking her forher kindness to a

stranger returned homeafter many years, shedecided that, really,therewasnothing tobeconcerned about. Shewas a sympatheticlistener. She too knewwhat it was to feel akind of outsider. Andthe earl had somehowsensed that. He hadonly wanted anafternoon’s

companionshipafterall.She picked out one

of the sweets he hadsent her, and licked atthe crystallized sugar.The questionwas,whatdid she want? Why didher mouth want to benibbling at LordRainsborough’s lips,those fullandsensuouslips that could curl upin the most charmingsmile? Why was it

Rainsborough’s armsaround her that sheimagined and notGiles’s? Giles was herbeloved friend, herchampion, herchildhoodGalahad.Whydid Sir Galahad nolonger hold the sameappeal? How could shefind anyone as good asGiles?Asfamiliar?

She lovedGiles.Shehad no doubts about

that. She had quietlygiven him all theaffectionshehadstoredup. All the love herfamily didn’t seem toneed fromher.Not thatshe had ever spoken ofit. But it was there,waitingforhim.

Sheknew thatGilesloved her. But why didhe love her? Becausethey were old friends?

Because it was easy tolet affection carry onealong into a marriagethatbothsetsofparentswanted? Because hewas used to the idea?Clare wished she hadsomeone to talk to. Herusual confidant wasSabrina. But she couldhardly say to Giles’ssister, “I love yourbrotherdearly.ButIambeginning towonder if I

love him, if youunderstand what Imean?” But Clareherself wasn’t sure sheknewwhatshemeant.

****Theearl’sattentions,

which had startedquietly, became muchmorenoticeableoverthefollowing days. Healways made sure tohave two dances withClare, one of them the

supper dance when atall possible. On the fewoccasions that Sabrinaand Giles were notpresent, Lucy Kirkmanmade sure that theyknewthelatest.

At first Sabrina wasmerely amused andpleased for Clare. Afterall, it was quite acompliment to besought after by one ofthe handsomestmen in

London. After a while,however, she began toworry. Giles continuedhis quiet attendance onClare,buttherewerenomore visits to thegardens, and severaltimeswhenhecalled intheafternoon,Clarewasalready out withRainsborough.

Really, it was timeboth of them woke up,thought Sabrina. Giles

needed to woo Claremore energetically, andClareneededtoseethatRainsborough was allcharm and nosubstance. Not thatSabrina had any realevidence of that. Notmuchwasknownabouthim, but what was,seemed perfectlyrespectable. He washandsome, intelligent,very charming, well-to-

do, and the inheritor ofarespected title.Yet forSabrina, he seemed toogoodtobetrue.Shewasdisappointed in Clare,for she knew, with hertwin’s sixth sense, thatGiles was hurt,although he gave nooutwardsignofit.

Oneafternoon,whileshe and her brotherwere finishing a lightnuncheon, she finally

expressedherconcern.“Are you at all

worried about LordRainsborough andClare,Giles?”sheaskedbluntly.

“Rainsborough andClare?” he respondedcoolly. “I wasn’t awarethere was anything toworryabout.”

“Oh, Giles, don’ttake that tonewithme.Youknowwhat Imean.

He may not exactly be‘madinpursuit,’buthisattentions have becomemore noticeable thesepastfewevenings.”

“I wanted Clare toenjoy her first Season,Sabrina,which iswhy Ihavenotdeclaredmyselfformally. I am happy ifshe is enjoying herflirtation. I’d far rathershe make a real choicerather than accept me

because it has beenunderstood by ourfamilies that we willwed. We have alwayshadadeepaffection foreachotherandthatisafarbetterfoundationformarriage than a briefinfatuation.”

“Then you do atleast admit thepossibility that she isinfatuated byRainsborough?”

“I am not blind, mydear sister. Nor stupid.ButIamquitesurethatwhentheSeasonends,Iwill be announcing ourbetrothal.”

“I hope you areright, Giles. I myselfthinkyouneed tomakea stronger push foryourself. After all, Clareis young andinexperienced. I wouldhate to think of her

being overwhelmed byRainsborough’ssophistication.” Sabrinafelt a bit devious, butsheknewthatanappealto Giles’s sense ofresponsibility for Clarewould rouse him toaction better than anappeal for his own bestinterest.

“You don’t think heisanyrealdangertoherreputation, Sabrina? Or

hervirtue?”“What does anyone

know of Rainsborough,Giles? He has beenaway for the past sixyears,afterall.”

“Perhaps you areright, and it is time Ideclaredmyself.”

Sabrina smiledacrossatherbrother.“Ithinkyoushould,Giles.Andsoon!”

ChapterThreeGiles had not been

as indifferent to thesituation as he had ledhis sister to believe. Hehadbecomeincreasinglyconcernedover thepasttwoweeks as it becameclear that the earl waspursuing Clare, butwhat he had toldSabrina was what hehad told himself: that

Clare needed to enjoy aflirtation before shecommitted herself tomarriage.

Exceptthatthiswasbeginning to look likesomething more than alight flirtation. The earlwasveryhandsomeandverycharmingandquitesingle-minded in hisattention. Giles had toadmittohimselfthathedid feel more than a

twinge of jealousy eachtime Rainsboroughapproached Clare andhesawtheexpressionofsurpriseddelightonherface. She had neverlooked up at him likethat. Oh, she wasalways pleased to seehim, pleased to dancewithhim,buttheywereold friends, so howcould his attentionssurpriseher?Andwhile

he had no insecurityabouthis attractivenessto women, he had toadmit he looked fairlyunprepossessingnexttothe darkly handsomeearl.

WhathehadsaidtoSabrina was true: hetrusted Clare. Hetrusted her loyalty totheir friendship. Butperhapsitwastimethathe stepped in, before

Rainsborough causedtoo much gossip ordemanded a passionateresponse from ClarethatGilesknewshewasnot ready to give.Tonight he wouldmakeit clear that Clare wasspokenfor.

****It was unfortunate

forGiles thatasheandSabrina were about toset off for the Allendale

rout, it was discoveredthat one of his grayswas favoring his hindleg and had to bereplaced. It made themlate, and by the timethey arrived,Rainsborough hadclaimed Clare as asupper partner, herwaltzes were all taken,and Giles had to settlefor one country-dance.Giles endedup squiring

Lucy Kirkman intosupperandhadtolistento her pseudo-sympathetic observationon Clare’s obviouspreferencefornewfaces.

“I had thought thatyouandshewouldhaveannounced yourbetrothalbynow,Giles,”shesaid.

“Oh, I wish to giveClare every opportunityto enjoy her first

Season,”heanswered.“Iamquite pleased to seemy future wife such asuccess.”Itwasperhapsunwise to have beenthatopen,butLucyhadquitedrivenhimtoit.

He was not pleasedto watch Clare andRainsboroughoutofthecorner of one eye. Theearl was sitting veryclosetoherandseemedto be whispering

compliments into herear, if herblusheswereanything to go by. Andafter supper, Giles wasnever able to get Clarealone. Then, after awaltz, Rainsboroughandsheslippedoutintothegarden.

****The last week had

been as disturbing forClareas ithadbeen forGiles and Sabrina. She

knew shewas falling inlovewithRainsborough.Nay, she had fallen inlovewithhimalmost atfirst sight, she nowrealized. For what elsebutlovewasthatstrongsensation of beingdrawninevitablytohim.Andofhimbeingdrawntoher.

Forhewasdrawn toher, like amagnet. The

attractionbetweenthemwas almost palpable,and she was amazedthat there wasn’t somevisible sign, like ashower of sparks whenhishandbrushedhers.

The earl had beenvery respectful, ofcourse, merely holdingon to her a little longerthan necessary after adance, and once verylightly brushing her

cheek while replacing aflower that had fallenoutofherhair.Onthatoccasion, she had beensurprised that her hairdidn’tcatchfire.

How could she feelthiswayaboutsomeoneother than Giles? Whydidn’tGiles,whowassodear to her, not createsuch passionatelonging?How could shebesofoolishastofallin

love with someone sohandsome and sosophisticated. She wassurprised,overandoveragain, whenRainsboroughcontinuedto call, continued tosend little gifts, andcontinued to send herviolets once a week.When he approachedher, she felt so specialand valued that it washard to keep only a

polite response on herface.Sheknewthathereyesgaveheraway.Butshecouldn’thelpit.

ShebegantowonderifsheandGilesweretooclose. Maybe a longfriendship was not asgood a foundation formarriage as she hadalways thought. Maybethey had both takentheirparents’wishestoo

seriously. After all,passion was a mostimportant ingredient ina marriage, wasn’t it?When Rainsboroughinvitedherforastrollinthe garden, she wentwithout even abackwardglance.

****Itwasawarmnight,

and the scent of rosesperfumed the air. Theyseemed to be the only

couple outside, andwhen Rainsboroughtook her hand and ledher away from thecenter of the garden,Clare almost stoppedbreathing. When theyreachedthegardenwall,the earl released herandtheystoodtherefora moment before beingdrawn inexorablytowardoneanother.

Rainsborough did

notneed to reachdownand tilt her face towardhis, forClare’s facewasalready lifted, her lipspartedandreadyforhiskiss. As soon as hetouchedhermouth,shewas lost.Neverhadshefelt such desire. Neverhad she felt so desiredby someone else. Noteven Giles. For onemoment, she could seeheroldfriend’sface,and

then the kiss wipedeverythingelsefromhermind. And when hefinally released her,Clarethoughtshewoulddie from thedisappointment.

“Lady Clare ... Idon’t know what cameoverme.”Shehadneverseen the sophisticatedearl at a loss for wordsbefore. “I admit Ibrought you here to

steal a kiss or two, butdidn’t intend this.” Hegazed down into hereyes and took a deepbreath. “Perhaps I did,”he admitted. “From thefirstmoment Isawyou,you have had an effecton me that no otherwomanhaseverhad.”

Their kiss had gonefar beyond what wasallowable, and Clareknew she should feel

outraged. But insteadsheonly felt sowanted.And she wanted him inreturn. She wanted hismouth on hers again,she wanted to run herfingers through histhick black hair, andshewanted tobe inhisarms.

Rainsboroughreached out his handand stroked her hairlightly.“Ihadintendeda

far lengthier courtship,my dear. Indeed, Ifeared I could not winyou. I know you arealmostpromisedtoLordWhitton.”He traced hercheek gently with hisfinger. “Would youconsider marrying me,Clare? I do not askbecauseIshouldafterakiss like that, butbecauseIamnotsureIcanlivewithoutyou,”he

added in a hoarsewhisper.

She had thoughtherself the onlyvulnerable one. He waswantedbyeverywomanin London, and forweeksshehadexpectedone or another of themwould take him away.That such a current ofattraction flowedbetween themcontinually surprised

her. She was alwaysexpectingittodisappearas quickly as it hadcome.

She had expectedhis kiss. She had evenhalfway known howstrong would be herresponse.Whatshehadnot expected was theexpression of insecurityon his face. He wantedhertosayyes,andfromthelookinhiseyesand

thetoneofhisvoice,heneeded her. Nothingcould have moved hermore.

“I would do morethanconsider,mylord,”she answered, loweringhereyesshyly.

Hewasverystill,hisfingerstillonhercheek.“Do you mean that,Clare? I couldn’tbear itif you changed your

mind.WhatofWhitton?”Clare lifted her eyes

to his. “Giles is an oldanddear friend, Justin,andIlovehimassuch.Ialways will. But I haveneverfeltwithhimwhatI feel with you. I neverknew it could be likethis.”

Clare could think ofnothing but thesweetness of candiedvioletsasshewaslostin

the sweetness of theirsecond kiss. It wasn’tdeep, but they nibbledand teased each otherwith lips and tonguesuntilJustinpulledawayagain. She moaned herdisappointment.

“Whitton has neverkissedyoulikethis?”

Clare was so dazedshe could only shakeher head, wonderingwhy shemust bemade

to think of Giles whenall she wanted wasJustin.

“I am glad.”Rainsborough took herlefthandandstroked itwithhisthumb.“Iwantyoutobewearingasignofourbetrothal,Clare.Iwill speak with yourparentstomorrow.”

Clare lifted her facefor one last, quick kiss,and they walked slowly

backtothecenterofthegarden.Shetookadeepbreath and thought itwas no wonder roseswere considered theflower of love. Surelyshe was breathing innot air, but love androses.

****The next morning,

Clare lay inbedrelivingevery moment in thegarden. For the first

time inher life, she feltthe center of someone’sattention.Itwashardtobelieve, but thehandsome andsophisticated JustinRainsborough hadpursued her single-mindedly, had kissedher into oblivion, andhadshownherasideofhimselfshewouldneverhave guessed existed:his vulnerability. He

truly had not beenconfident that shewould accept him. Andonce she had, he wasdetermined to secureher. Giles had nevermade her feel like hislife dependeduponher.ButsherefusedtothinkofGilestoday.

Her parents alwaysbreakfasted early, andso Clare had thebreakfast room to

herselfasusual.Onthismorning, she wasthankful, for she couldnot have faced hermother and father andkept her secret. Afterbreakfast,shewanderedrestlessly through theirconservatory and outinto the town housegardenbeforeshemadeher way to the musicroom. Once there, shewasstillunabletosettle

intoanythingmorethana short, distractedpractice. Finally shesummoned her abigailand set off for thePantheonBazaar,whereshe purchased severalpairs of gloves andstockings, which shehadnoneedforatall.

When she returnedhome, she saw Justin’scarriage outside theirdoor, andonce shewas

inside, saw that thelibrary doorwas closed.He had come, shethought. Not that shehadreallydoubtedhim,butitstillfeltalittlelikeshe was living in adream.Shehadsenthermaidforherembroiderybasket, brought it intothe morning room, andattemptedunsuccessfully to keep

her hands steady andher threads untangled,while she awaited herparents.

Only her mothercamein.

“Your father iscloseted in the librarywith LordRainsborough, Clare. Iamsureyouknowwhy.”

Clare blushed. “Yes,Mama.”

“There seems to be

nothing objectionableabout the young man.The title is an old one,theestateisinexcellentcondition, and hisincome more thanadequate.”

Clare nodded,keepinghereyesonherwork.

“And he is sinfullyhandsome. Anddevilishly charming. Iwonder why just those

adjectives came tomind,” Lady Rowlandadded. “He has beenaway for over five yearsand before that, wasraisedupnorth,sothatwe don’t know muchabouthim,”shemused."Butheismostcertainlyheadoverheels foryou,mydear.”

“And I with him,Mama,” Clare saidboldly.

“What of Giles?There has never beenany formal agreement,mind you, but ourunderstanding and theWhittons was that youandGileswouldmakeamatchbytheendoftheSeason. Either of theseyoungmenwouldmakeyou a fine husband, Iam sure, but you haveknownGilesforsolong,Clare, and I thought

there was a deepaffectionthere.”

“There is, Mama,”Clare replied quietly.“Giles and I are goodfriends, and I hope willremain so. Had I nevermet Justin, I am sure Iwould have lived veryhappily as Giles’s wife.But now that I have, Icannot imaginemarrying anyone else. I

am aware now that Icouldnot giveGiles thesamekindof love that IbringJustin.”

“Youknowyourownheart best, Clare,” saidhermother.“YourfatherandIseenorealreasonto refuse LordRainsborough. Iwill tellMauricetosendtheearlin.”

Shortly after hermother left, the butler

admitted Justin andclosed the door behindhim.

The earl ran hishand through his hairand looking over atClare, gave her acharmingly boyish grin.“I think I survived theordeal. I hope you stillwantme,Clare.”

The thread ofinsecurity in his voicewasgenuine,andagain,

his vulnerabilitytouched Clare deeply.Assherosetogotohim,he approached herquickly and said, “No, Ishoulddothisproperly,”and bending over herhand,liftedittohislipsandkissedit.

“LadyClareDysart,Ilove you with all myheart. Will you do methe great honor ofbecomingmywife?”

No one, not evenGiles,hadeverdeclaredhis love for her. Clarewas so moved that shecouldn’tspeak,butonlynodherconsent.

“You do love me,Clare?”

“Oh, Justin, yes,yes. More than anyoneintheworld.”

Hepulledherupbythe hand and enfolded

herinatenderembrace.After a few minutes hereleased her, andbending down, teasedher lips with his. Theirresponsetooneanotherwasasimmediateasthefirst time. The kissmightwellhavegoneonforhours,buttheybothfinally heard LordHowland'snotsosubtlecough at the door andbroke apart from one

another.“Well, I can see we

had better schedule awedding date soon,”said the marquess withasmile.

“The sooner thebetter, sir,” said Justin,recoveringhisdignity.“Ihope the betrothalnotice can go inimmediately. I wanteveryone to know thatLady Clare ismine,” he

added, gazing down ather with such lovingpossessiveness thatClarecouldhavemeltedathisfeet.

“I will send thenotice to the Timestomorrow, my lord,”agreed her father. “Andwe will see you tonightat the Farnham ball?”he added, subtlydismissingJustin.

“Yes.Ofcourse.”“Itwill be difficult, I

am sure, but you willnot make yourselvesobvious or a subject forgossip, I trust.” LordHowland made it as asimple statement, butboth Clare and Justinheard it as thecommanditwas.

“No, sir. I will treatClarenodifferentlythanIhavebeen.”

“Humph. That hascaused commentenough,” said themarquess with a smile.“Good day to you,Rainsborough.”

“Good day, my lord.And thank you.” Justingave Clare a humorouslonging look frombehindherfather’sbackasheleft.

“Sit down, Clare.”Her father put his

hands behind his backand looked down at hisdaughter. “I know thatyourmother has talkedtoyouandshesaysyouareabsolutelysure thatRainsborough is theone.”

“Yes, Father. I lovehimverymuch.”

“And what of Giles?The boy has loved youfor years, and yourbetrothal has been

takenforgrantedbyourtwofamilies.”

“But it was neverformal, Papa,” Clareprotested. “Oh, I know,you and the Whittonsexpected it. I expectedit,” she continued withsome wonder in hervoiceathowherlifehadtaken a direction shenever could haveforeseen.“ButGilesandIonlyloveeachotheras

goodfriends,afterall.”“That isanexcellent

basis for marriage,Clare.”

Clare could notimaginespeakingopenlyabout passion,especially to her father.“Iknow,Papa.Andas ItoldMama, had I nevermet Justin, I am sureGiles and I would havehad a good marriage.But surely, Giles would

never be happy with awife whose heart wasgivenelsewhere.”

“And Rainsboroughhasyourheart?”

“Oh,yes,Papa.”Lord Howland

cleared his throatnervously and lookedaround the room asthough searching forsomething. Finally hefound it:aceladonvaseon themantel. He fixed

his gaze upon it asthough he had neverseen it before as hehaltingly addressed hisdaughter.

“You know, Clare,yourmother and Iwerecompletely unpreparedfor you. We were olderthan the usual parentswhen we had you, andare positively ancientnow,” he said with arueful smile, as he ran

his hand over histhinning white hair. “Ialwaysworried thatyoumight feel ... I don’tknow...anyway,thatiswhy we sent you toWhitton. So you couldexperience a morenormalfamilylife.”

“Yes, I know that,Papa, and I amgrateful.”

“I would not like tothink you are throwing

awaythesteadywarmthof affection for thefireworks of ... uh ...passion, Clare.Especially if you mighthave felt your parentslacking ... in ... Oh,damn it,” said themarquess, turningtoward his daughter atlast.“YourmotherandIlove you, child, eventhough we haveprobably done a poor

job of showing it. Wewereoutofpractice,yousee,” he added, with asadsmile.

Clare’s eyes shonewithunshed tears. “Oh,Papa, of course I knowyoulovedme.”

“Of course, but youwerealonely,quietlittlething.”

Clare laughedshakily.

“And look how you

have grown into a verybeautifulyoungwoman.It is no wonderRainsborough is in lovewithyou.”LordHowlandcleared his throat. “Ifyou are happy, thenyourmotherandIare.”

“I am, Papa,” saidClaresoftly.

“But there areGiles’s feelings toconsider.Hecannotfindoutaboutyourbetrothal

through the Times. Youmusttellhimyourself.”

“Yes,Papa.”“And Ihope youare

right that it is only theaffection of old friendsthatbothofyoufeel.”

ChapterFour“Won’t you be

joining me in the parkthis morning?” Sabrinaaskedherbrotherashecame down forbreakfast.Gileswasnotdressed for riding andhe looked tired, asthoughhehadnotsleptwellatall.

He smiled at herapologetically. “Not

today, Sabrina. I haveanerrandandavisit tomake. You will bepleased with me, Ithink,”headdedwithamischievous smile. “TheerrandistoRundellandBridge’s and the call totheDysarts."

Sabrina sighed withrelief. “I am glad thatyou are at last takingsome action, Giles. Inoticed when

RainsboroughandClarewent out to the gardenlast night. And whentheycameback.”

Giles’s face becameserious. “As did I. Thatis when I decided Icouldn’twaitanylonger.Rainsborough is athoroughly charmingman.Iwouldliketosayvillain, but he seems tobeabovereproach,both

in background andbehavior. But he is sodamnably handsomeandsoattentive.”

“But what isbetween you and Clareis deep andlongstanding,Giles.”

“I notice you didn’tsay,‘Butyouareeversomuch more good-looking,Giles.’’’

“You are quite ahandsome man, my

dear brother,” saidSabrina. “But even aloyal sister must admitthat any woman mightbe affected byRainsborough’sappearance.”

Gilesgroaned.“Clare is not the

superficial sort, Giles. Iam sure she is justenjoying her triumph.After all, it has quitemade her Season.

Nevertheless, I am gladyou are going to speakatlast.”

****Giles had long ago

picked out a betrothalgift. It was a simplependantsetwithadeeppurple amethyst tobring out the violet inClare’s eyes, and justtherightlengthtonestlein the hollow of herthroat.Hehadhaditset

aside for him at thebeginningof theSeasonwhen he first saw it. Itfelt good to be standingthere, watching thejeweler wrap it for him,knowing that Clarewould soon be wearingit.

He had thought todothecorrectthingandspeak to the marquessfirst, but his lordshipand his wife were out,

he was informed. Hehad himself announcedto Clare, for after all,both families had beenplanning the match foryears.Hewassure thatLord Howland wouldforgivehim.

Giles was showninto the morning roomwhere he found Clarepaging through La BelleAssemblee. She colored

when Giles wasannounced and unableto sit still, rose tomeethim.

“Good morning,Giles,”shesaidinalowvoice.

“Good morning,Clare.” Giles was morenervous than hethought he would beand found himselffingering the jeweler’sbox that he had thrust

into his coat pocket. “Itis a lovely day today. Iwas hoping to convinceyou to drive with methisafternoon?”

Clare lookedupandthen down again inconfusion. “Thank you,Giles. I am committedelsewhere thisafternoon,butIamgladyou called, for I havesomething I wish tospeakwithyouabout.”

Clarefinallyperchedherself on the edge of achair, and Giles wasabletositdown.

“Ididnotcomeonlyto ask you for yourcompanythisafternoon,Clare.”

Clare couldnot lookhimintheface.Histonewas serious. Surely hecould not have beenplanningtooffer forhertoday of all days. The

dayshemusttellhimofher betrothal toRainsborough.

“We have beenfriends for a long time,Clare.”

“Yes, Giles.” Oh,God,hewas.

“You know I have avery deep affection foryou.”

“And I for you,Giles.”

“And that our

parents have expected...althoughofcourse,ithas never beenformalized ... that wemightmake amatch ofit.”

He was making hisoffer. But he was not,Clare realized withrelief, declaring anundyingpassionforher.Hewasmakinghisofferrather matter-of-factly.Hedidnotneedherlike

Justin did. Not Giles.Not her friend andprotector. Thank God,shedidn’thavetoworryabouthim.Hewouldbedisappointed, she wassure.Buthisverybeingdid not depend uponher. It made it mucheasier for her to saywhatshehadtosay.

“There is somethingI must tell you, Giles,”she said, finally lifting

hereyestohisface.Fromhertone,Giles

could tell it wasimportant. And it wasclear she was notrushing in toaccepthisproposal before he hadevenfinishedmaking it.He kept his facecarefullyexpressionless.

“You know that Ihave been in thecompany of LordRainsboroughalmostas

muchas Ihavebeen inyours for these pastweeks. At first, I wasonly surprised andflattered that he soughtmeout.”

Giles wanted toprotest:“Butwhywouldyoubesurprised,Clare?Youarealovelywoman.You should just haveaccepted his attentionsas your due.” But hekept quiet, waiting for

hertofinish.“Then, as I got to

know him better, Irealized that I had verystrong feelings for himand he for me. We arevery much in love,Giles,” Clare said in arush,asthoughtokeephimfromanyprotest.“Ithappenedsoquickly,sounexpectedly. He spoketoFatheryesterday.Thebetrothal will be in the

paper tomorrow,” shefinished in almost awhisper.

“I see. Then, may Ibe the first towish youhappy,Clare?”Whatthehell else could he say?He had been the worstkind of fool, taking forgrantedthatherfeelingsfor him were as strongas his for her. Neverimagining that someonelikeRainsboroughcould

sweep her off her feet.ThankGodhehadmadenodeclarationoflove.

Clare reached outher hands to his. “Oh,Giles,Inevermeantthisto happen. I neverdreamed it couldhappen,” she addedtremulously.“Ihopeyoucan wish me happywholeheartedly.”

Giles lifted her

hands to his lips andgavethemagentlekiss.

“Ofcourse,mylady.”“And it is not as if

we ever fell in love,”added Clare, as he letherhandsgo. “Wehavebeenthebestoffriends,and I hope we willalwaysremainso.”

“I hope so, too,Clare.”

“I expected us tobuild a long and happy

life together based onthat friendship, Giles.Had I notmet Justin, Ithink we might havedonethat.ButGiles...”

“Yes,Clare?”“I now know what

would have beenmissing. I want you, asmy dearest friend, tofindwhat I have found.Someone who iseverythingtoyou.”

Oh,butIhavefound

her,Clare,viedemavie.Ifound her many yearsago. I expected tocherish and protect herfor all of my life. But Ihave been such a goodfriend, Giles thoughtbitterly.

“Perhaps I will,Clare,"herepliedwithafleeting smile. “But Imust go now.” As theystood up, he felt the

lump in his pocket.Well, it had beenpurchased as abetrothal gift, hethought, ashepulled itout.

“I would like you tohavethis,Clare.”

“Oh, no, Giles, Icouldn’t,”sheprotested,embarrassed all overagain thathehadcomewitheveryexpectationof

beingaccepted.“It is a small gift,

Clare. Just something Isawthatmademethinkofyou.”

She took the boxand opened it withtremblingfingers.Itwasonly a simple pendant,but the stonewas sucha deep purple and thefiligree setting soexquisite that shealmost handed it back.

“Itistoobeautiful,Giles!And you meant it as abetrothalgift.”

“Andsoitstillis,”hesaid lightly. “You arebetrothed. Surely a giftfrom an old and dearfriendisquiteinorder?”

She looked quicklyup into his face. Therewas nothing there todisturbher.Nosignofabroken heart. JustGiles, with his shock of

brown hair falling overhis forehead, his hazeleyes warm withaffection.

“Thank you, Giles.For this. And for beingso understanding aboutJustin.”

Hewasgonequickly,and Clare fingered thependant, knowing thatdespite theirprotestations ofcontinuing friendship,

things had changedbetweenthemforever.

****There were more

than a few “I told youso’s” traded at theEliot’s supper danceafter the betrothalannouncementappeared in the papers.And a handful ofgentlemen pocketedsubstantial sums,having bet that Lord

Rainsborough wouldcarry the day. LucyKirkmanwasoneof themost vocalcommentators. Afterofferingherverysincerecongratulations toClare,shemadesuretotell as many people aspossible of her concernfor Giles. “It must havebeensuchashock,”sheintoned. “He has lovedher since we were all

children,youknow.”Sabrina, who had

heard Lucy’s commentsthird-hand,wasfurious.It was bad enough thatGiles was suffering. Itwouldbeoutrageousforpeopletoknowaboutit.And so she merelylaughed when peoplewould come up tocommiseratewithher.

“Ofcoursetherehadbeen an unspoken

family arrangement.Everyone knew that.Butit was based uponfriendship. Giles wasthe first person Claretoldandthefirsttowishher happy, you know,”she announced to allandsundry.

When she got toLucy, she invitedher totakeastrollaroundtheedgeoftheballroomand

informed her, keepingthe sweetest of smileson her face, that if sheheard one more bit ofgossip about herbrother, she wouldpersonally push Lucy’sface into the nearestpunchbowl.

“Sabrina, I was nottryingtospreadgossip!Ijust felt such sympathyforGiles.ButofcourseIwillsaynothingmore,if

youthinkitbest.”“Thank you, Lucy.

Andneitherofuswouldwish Giles to hear ofthis conversation, I amsure.”

“Ofcoursenot.”Sabrina was

satisfied that Lucywould keep her mouthshut.Unfortunately,shewould not be able tostopherfromgoingafterGiles.Well,lethermake

afoolofherself,Sabrinathought. He has neverseen anyone but Clare,andheneverwill.

****Clare had dressed

very carefully for thesupper dance. It wouldbethefirsttimesheandJustin would appear inpublic officiallybetrothed, and shewantedhimtobeproudof her. She put on her

newestgown,alilacsilkthat was covered by adelicate gauze overslipof an even lighter lilac.Giles’s gift was on herdressing table, and shefingered it thoughtfully.He had been so sweetandsounderstanding.

Wearing his gifttonightseemedapledgeof her continuingfriendship, she decided,and so she had her

maid fasten it aroundher throat. It was theperfect length and thevery simplicity of thesetting made one focuson the deep purpledepthsof thestoneandthenthevioletofClare’seyes.

She was very gladshe had worn it whenshe saw the look inGiles’s eyes as hegreeted herwarmly and

publicly congratulatedheronherbetrothal.

Clare had neverthought of herself ascompetitive with otherwomen.Indeed,shesawherself as having verylittle tooffer incontrastto some of this year’sbeauties.Butshehadtoconfess to a certainsatisfaction as she sawthe look of envy inseveral women’s eyes.

She had captured theheartofthehandsomestman in London, shethought, as she andJustin whirled aroundthe room, in their firstwaltz of the evening,andsheletherselfenjoyhermomentoftriumph.

Several people hadcomplimented her onher appearance,particularly mentioningher pendant. She

thanked them and saidtoafewthatitwasagiftfromanoldfriend.Aftertheir dance, whenJustin had invited herout onto one of thebalconiesforsomefreshair,sheassumedhewastaking the opportunityto steal a kiss or two,and after he closed theFrench doors behindthem, she lifted herface. He only stood

there, arms crossed,lookingdownather.

“What is wrong,Justin,” she asked,puzzledbyhisreaction.

He reached out hishand and lifting thependantwithhis finger,pulleditgentlyandthena little harder, so thatClarehadtomoveclosertohim.

“It is a lovely piece,

my dear. And itcertainly does matchyoureyes.”Hewasonlyrepeating thecompliments she hadalreadyreceivedbutinatone she had neverheard from him before.“Who did give you this,Clare?”

What had seemedlike a simple gesture offriendship earlier in the

evening now seemedratherfoolishandnaive.“Giles gave it to me,Justin. He is an oldfriend,andonewhohad... certain expectationsthatweredisappointed.”Clare had not toldJustin of Giles’sproposal, only that shehadpersonallyinformedhim of her own. “I onlywore it,” she continued,

“to show myappreciation of hisunderstanding andfriendship. He reallydoes wish me happy,Justin, as I am, mydear,” she added,puttingherhandonhisarm.

Justin closed hiseyes for a minute, andwhen he opened them,Claresawsuchalookofinsecurity that it quite

toreatherheart.“I am sorry, Clare,”

hestammered,releasingher. “It is only that Icannotquitebelievethatyoureallyloveme.Afterall, you and Whittonhavehada longhistorybetweenyou.”

“Only of friendship,Justin,” said Clarequietly.“IseenowthatIwas very naive andinsensitive to wear the

necklace this evening. Ithink I did so partlybecause I feel so guiltyabout my treatment ofGiles. Because I feelsorry that he has notfound the love that Ihave.” She reached herhandsupandstruggledwith the clasp. “Here,”she said, grasping hiswrist and turning hishandover.“Iwon’twearit again if it disturbs

you.”Justin’s fingers

closed over the pool ofgold, and his thumbfingeredthefacetsoftheamethyst. “I can almostsummon up somesympathy for Whittonmyself, for I can’timagine what it wouldfeel like to lose you toanother man,” he said,as he slipped thenecklace into his

pocket.“You do not have to

imagine it,Justin, for itwill never, ever happen.You have all of myheart,forever.”

They did not kissthen, or later thatevening, but Clare feltcloser to Justin thanshe ever had. It wassomething she wouldnever have expected:that the most

heartbreakinglyhandsome man inLondon was onlyanother insecurehuman being likeherself. The fact thattheir need was mutual,aswellastheirpassion,convincedherthattheirmarriage would be alongandhappyone.

****Giles had had very

mixed feelings about

Clare’s decision to wearhis pendant. His firstand last reaction was asurge of simpleaffection.HeknewClareverywell,andknewshehad worn the amethystas a message offriendship. Thesweetnessofhernaturewasoneofthethingsheloved her for. But formuchoftheevening,hehad to admit, he was

angry and heartsick.Therewasthenecklace,fittingasperfectlyashehad envisioned it,drawing complimentsabout Clare’s eyes, buthe was not the manbeside her basking inthe glow of thosecompliments.Hewasonthe sidelines watchingher wear what he hadmeant to be his ownbetrothal gift with

Justin Rainsborough asherbetrothed.

Hewasawareof thegossip. Who could notbe? He had knownabout thewagersweeksago and had ignoredthem. In fact, had henot been one of theobjects of speculation,he would have bet onGiles Whitton himselfover a flashy newcomerlike Rainsborough.

Which only showedwhat a fool he was. Heresponded to the veiledsympathy that wasoffered him by smilingand sayinghowpleasedhe was that Clare hadfound someone whocouldmakeherhappy.

It was a longevening, however, andhismouthwasstifffromall the smiling. He wasvery aware of the

betrothed couple, andwhen they disappearedonto one of thebalconies,hehadahardtime concentrating onhis conversation withhis companions. WhenClare and Justinemerged, Giles noticedimmediatelythatClare’sneck was now emptyand overheard herexplanationtoacuriousacquaintance: “No, no,

the pendant was notlost, although it maywell have been. Theclasp is defective, andluckily I discovered thisbeforeIdidloseit.”

The clasp defective,my eye and BettyMartin, thought Giles.Justin Rainsboroughdidnotwanthiswife-to-be wearing anythingthat was a gift from aformer suitor, even if

that suitor was an oldfamilyfriend.Well,Iamnot sure I blame him,Giles admitted tohimself. It was sweet ofyou,Clare, butnaive tothink that you couldcarry some symbol ofloyaltytoour friendshipinto this marriage.Rainsborough expectsall your loyalty to bewith him, as well itshould be. And he has

begun as he means togoon.

Giles slipped awayearly, eager to get awayfromthegossipandthelooks of pity and thesight of Clare andRainsborough waltzingtogether as though theywereonepersonalreadyandnotstilltwo.

****Thenextmorningas

Giles was finishing the

morning paper in thelibrary, his butlerknockedatthedoor.

“Comein,”hecalled.“I beg pardon, my

lord,butafootmanfromthe Rainsboroughhouseholdjustdeliveredthis.” The butler heldoutasmallbrownpaperparcel.

Giles reached outand closed his handover it, a puzzled frown

onhisface.“Thankyou,Henley.” Whateverwould Rainsborough besending him? hewondered, as Henleyclosed the door behindhim. And then, as heturned the parcel over,heknew.Heopenedthepaper, and out slippedthe amethyst necklacehe had given Clare. Itlay there on his desk,the jeweled pendant

restingonapoolofgoldchain, but all he couldsee was the way it hadnestled in the softhollowofClare’s throat.He threaded his fingersthrough it and spreadthem apart, letting thependant dangle andcatchthesunlight.

“Goddamnhissmallsoul to hell,” hewhisperedfiercely.

Itwasafragilepiece,

which is what haddrawn him to it in thefirst place, and thefiligree broke easily ashis fury took him over.The stone fell out andonto the floor andGilesground it under hisheel, wishing he couldreduce it topowderandwithitallthepassionatelonging which he hadtriedsohardtosubdue.Butitremainedwhole.

How could she loveRainsborough, someonecapable of such agesture?Howcould shehaveturnedherbackonour friendship? Gilesdidn’t know what wasworse, his desire forClare, which couldneverbesatisfied,orhissudden anger at her.She had betrayed herown affection andawakening passion for

him.Fordesirehadbeenbetween them, he wassure of it. He had justbeen so bloody carefulwith her. Instead, heshould have swept heroff her feet, the wayRainsboroughhad.

He picked the smalljeweloffthefloor.Itwasscratched from the heelof his boot, but itspurple depths stillremindedhimofClare’s

eyes.Hescoopedupthechainandwalkedoutofthe library anddownstairs to the mainhall. He thrust thebroken chain andpendant at the footmanstationed there, saying,“Here, get rid of this. Inever want to see itagain,” and walkedstraight out the door,leaving the servantgapingatthegoldinhis

hand, wonderingwhether taking such avaluable piece to apawnshop mightconstitute a technicalobedience to hismaster’sorder.

ChapterFiveClare sent a note to

Sabrina the morningafter the supper dance,asking her to call thatafternoon. She did nothavethecouragetovisitthe Whittons yet andchance encounteringGiles.Butsheknewsheand Sabrina must talk,or she risked losing atreasuredfriendship.

When Sabrinaarrived,Clarejoinedherinthedrawingroomandaskedthebutlertosendin some lemonade andbiscuits.

“Please sit down,Sabrina.”

“I can’t stay for verylong, Clare, so don’tbother withrefreshments,” herfriend answered rathercoolly.

“I am glad of themmyself, Sabrina. Youmaydowhatyouwish.”

SabrinasatoppositeClare and withoutpreamble said: “Howcould you do this toGiles, Clare? And afterallyouhavebeentooneanother these manyyears.”

Clare colored, butanswered with acalmness that amazed

her. But she was sosureofherheart,thatitseemed easy to speakfromitatlast.

“Giles and I havebeen dear friends,Sabrina,justasyouandIhavebeen.”

“Thefriendshipscanhardly be compared,Clare! You know Gileshasalwayslovedyou.”

“AsIhim.Ithinkthetwo of us know our

relationship at least aswellasyoudo,Sabrina.Giles has never spokenor acted in any wayotherthanadearfriendmight. Of course, weboth knew what ourfamilies expected.And Iexpected, for thatmatter. I toldGiles thathadInevermetJustin,Iamsurewewouldhavesettled down veryhappily together. But I

did meet Justin,Sabrina.”

You really didmakea muddle of things,Giles, thought Sabrina.“But you hardly knowhim, Clare. Surely tochoose infatuation overalong-lastingfriendshipisfoolish...”

“It is love that isbetween us, notinfatuation, Sabrina. Ihave never had anyone

lovemelikethis.Justinloves me, Clare Dysart,for myself. He mayappear quite alarminglyhandsome and sure ofhimself,butIknowhim.Henotonlylovesme,heneeds me. No one hasever neededme before,”said Clare, her voiceshaking.

“Oh, Clare, I amsorry for going at you,”saidSabrina,gettingup

and sitting beside herfriendonthesofa. “It isjust that ...” She wasgoing to say: I hate tosee Giles heartbroken.Butitwouldn’tbefairtoexpose her brother’spain ormake Clare feelworse than she alreadydid. So she justcontinued:“...ThatIamvery disappointed. I sowantedyouforasister.”

“Thank you for

trying to understand,Sabrina. I have alwaysfelt that we were likesisters already. I hopemy marriage won’tchangethat?”

SabrinagaveClareafierce hug. “Of coursenot,mydear.”

Justthen,thebutlerknocked and enteredwith his tray. Sabrinawent back to her chair,while he placed her

lemonade on the tablebetween them. Hisentrance gave bothyoung women theopportunity to collectthemselves. When heleft, Sabrina lifted herglass and said: “Here isto your happiness,Clare.Youdeservetobeloved.”

“Thank you,Sabrina.” Clare wasblushing as she

acceptedthetoast.“Now, when are you

planningthewedding?”“Very soon,”

admittedClare. “Wearehoping to marry in lateJune or early July sothat we will have mostof the summer inDevon.”Clarehesitated.“Iwashoping...”

“Yes?”“I was hoping that

you would stand up

withme,Sabrina.”“Iwouldbehonored,

Clare.”They chatted then

about wedding gowns,andwhat flowerswouldbeavailable,andbythetime Sabrina left, shewas almost resigned toClare’s choice. It hadsurprised her to hearthe depth of Clare’sneed to be loved andneeded. And yet it

shouldn’thave.Afterall,she knew what Clare’schildhoodhadbeenlike:not desperatelyunhappy,ofcourse,butlacking in thoseessential ingredients.The way Clare haddescribed Rainsboroughmade Sabrina begin tounderstand what haddrawn her to him andaway from Giles. Clarehad always needed

Giles. From thebeginning he had actedas her protector andchampion.

ButhowwouldClareever have known howmuch Giles loved andneededher?Thepatternintheirrelationshiphadbeen set early on, andboth had become usedto it. Clearly, they all,particularly Giles, hadtaken too much about

Clare for granted. Shecould only hope thatGiles would somedayfind someone else. AndbeforeLucyKirkmangotherclawsintohim!

****Atacostknownonly

to himself, Giles wassuccessfulinpresentinghimselfasanold friendand not a heartbrokensuitor, and the gossipdied down after a short

time.But theeffortwasoccasionally almost toomuchforhim,especiallytheeveningsliketonightwhenRainsboroughandClare, having dancedevery waltz together,disappeared onto abalconyforwhatseemedlike hours.Hewas veryglad, therefore, to hearthe Honorable AndrewMore announced as alatearrival.

“Andrew!” heexclaimed when his oldfriend approached him.“Why have we not hadthe pleasure of seeingyou earlier thisSeason?”

“The law is ademanding mistress,Giles,” respondedAndrew. “Althoughperhaps a demandingone is easier than anunfaithful one?” he

added with sympatheticirony.

Had it been anyoneelse, Giles would havebeen furious at theinsult to Clare. But hehad known Andrewsince their first yearaway at school, and heknew that it was onlyaffection that wasbehindtheanimosity.

“Hardly unfaithfuland most certainly not

to be categorized as amistress, Andrew,”warning him by hisserious tone thatAndrewhadgonealmosttoofar.

“I apologize, Giles. Ishouldn’t have saidthat.ButmyGod,man,yourbetrothalhasbeenexpectedforyears.AndIknow you have lovedClareforthatlong.”

“And you’ve never

understoodit.”Andrewflushedwith

embarrassment. “I havenever said anything ofthesort,Giles.”

Giles grinned. “No,youhaven’thadto.It isonly that I have neverglimpsed anythingbeyond politefriendlinessbetweenyouand Clare wheneveryou’ve visited us atWhitton.”

“I am drawn to amore spirited sort ofwoman, Giles.” Hehesitated. “I mustconfess that I amsurprised that Clarechose Rainsboroughover you. She alwaysseemed so shy andinsecure to me. Yoursteadiness seemed justwhatsheneeded.”

“Evidently hesparked something in

herthatIdidnot,”Gilessaidbitterly.

“Setting yourfeelings aside, do youlikehim?”askedAndrewcuriouslyashewatchedRainsboroughleadClareback onto the dancefloor.

“I have tried to beobjective, Andrew. Iwant Clare to be happyand to all appearances,Rainsborough seems to

be themanwhomakesher so. But he alwayshovers over her soprotectively. And doesnotlikeitonebitwhenIask for the occasionaldance. Though why hethinks it is a pleasurerather than a tormentforme,IamsureIdon’tknow. But I have tocontinue the ‘goodfriend’ to keep thegossipsquiet.”

“You are a veryattractiveman,Giles, inyour own right, andbefore he came along,Clare seemed to beyours.Icanunderstandhisinsecurity.”

Giles sighed. “Isuppose you are right,Andrew.Andthereisnoway I can be rationalaboutthisanyway.”

Therewasamomentof silence, and then

Andrew asked verycasually: “Is Sabrinaheretonight?”

“Yes, she is in thegarden with youngBewley.”

Andrew raised hiseyebrows. “Bewley? Arewe to wish your sisterhappythisyear?”

Giles laughed. “Notatall,Andrew.Bewleyissuffering from anintense case of calf-love

fortheHonorableSusanMaxwell, and soughtSabrina’s aid inarousing the younglady’sjealousy.AsfarasI know, Sabrina’s heartisstillfree.”

Andrewlaughedandimmediately changedthe subject. But whenSabrina returned, heunobtrusivelyjoinedthegroup of friends whosurrounded her and

obtained a waltz forlaterintheevening.

****When Andrew came

to claim his dance,Sabrina felt the familiarthrill of attraction thathad plagued her eversince he had spent afortnightonesummeratWhitton five years ago.He was the first man,and indeed, he seemedthelastwhoaffectedher

so. But he had nevershown the least sign ofinterest,andsoshehadkept her feelings toherself, hoping theywere only temporaryand that someone elsewould eventually comealong and claim herheart.

“I was happy thatyouhadadancefreeforme, Sabrina,” saidAndrew.She feltherself

grow warm withpleasure and wonderedif Andrew did feel anattraction to her afterall. But she onlyanswered calmly thatshe,too,wasgladoftheopportunity to be hispartner.“Foryouaretooabsent during theSeason,Andrew.”

Andrew continuedalmost as though shehadn’t spoken. “I know

howcloseyouandGilesare, Sabrina.How is heholding up under thestrain of having to actthe family friend withClare?”

Sabrina mentallyscolded herself forhaving been so foolish,even if for only amoment, to think thatAndrew More had anyspecial interest in her.“Hedoesnot talkabout

it,eventome,butIcansensehisheartbreak.”

“How did this evercome about? ThefriendshipbetweenGilesand Clare goes back sofar. And she neverseemed the sort to beswept off her feet bycharmandflattery.”

“I can only guess atthe reason,” saidSabrina. “I believe thatwhat she and Giles felt

for each other wentbeyond friendship, butmy chivalrous brotherdid not wish to hurryher. I don’t think heever revealed his needfor her or his passion.Evidently Rainsboroughdid, and that meanteverything.”

“I see.” And Andrewdid. Granted, given hisstatusasayoungerson,he couldn’t let himself

indulge inany fantasiesabout Lady SabrinaWhitton. But if he hadbeen free to, he wouldhave acted verydifferently from Gilesand not held back foranyone.

He smiled down atSabrinasympathetically, andthey shared a wordlessminute ofunderstanding. It was

one of Giles’s mostendearingqualities, thisability to separate hisownneedfromtheneedofthoseheloved.Anditwas his greateststrength that hadbecome his greatestweakness. In protectingClare from his owndesire,hehadlosther.

****The rest of the

Season went by very

quickly forClareasshewas caught up in thewhirlwind preparationsforherwedding.Onherwedding day itself, shefelt as though she werestanding and lookingthrough a kaleidoscope.All was a blur as shedressedanddrovetothechurch. And then therewere the moments thatstood out perfectly, asthings shifted and fell

into place: Giles’s facelooking set and seriousas she moved past himdown the aisle, aglimpse of her motherfrom the altar, lookingsomucholder thanshehad remembered her,and Justin, gazing intoher eyes as he said hisvows with such lovingintensity she thoughtshemightfaint.

During the wedding

breakfast, Giles cameover to congratulatethem. It was the firsttimeheandJustinhadsaid more than a fewwords to one another,and Clare was hopingthatoneday theycouldall be comfortable. Itwas obvious, from theway Justin’s handtightenedoverhers,thatthiswasnottheday.HeandGiles smiled smiles

thatcamenowhereneartheir eyes and utteredtheusualformalities.

“I wish you bothhappy.”

“Thank you,Whitton.”

It was only whenGiles was turning toleave that any realemotion was expressed.He turned back quicklyand said fiercely: “Clareis very dear to me,

Rainsborough. I knowthatyouwilltreatherasthetreasuresheis.”

“She is even dearerto me, Whitton. Youneed not concernyourselffurtherwithherhappiness.”

Given the coldnessof Justin’s tone, hisanswer was like a slapin the face. Gilescolored, nodded, andbowed his farewell to

bothofthem.

ChapterSixThey set off on the

first stage of theirjourney early in theafternoon, planning tostop in Farnborough.One of Justin’s cousinsowned a small housethere and had placed itathisdisposal.

“Do you mind if Iclose my eyes for awhile, Justin,” Clare

asked as they leftLondonbehind.“I findIamexhausted from thispast week.” She slippedher hand in his andleanedherheadagainsthisshoulder.

“Notatall,mydear.”Clare was asleep

almost immediately anddid not wake up untilthey were only an hourfrom Farnborough. Shecould tell from the light

that it was lateafternoon and washorrified that she hadsleptsolong.

“I am so sorry,Justin.”

Her husband lookedat her with affectionateamusement as she satup and smoothed herhair.

“No need toapologize, Clare.Actually, I am very

pleased that you feel socomfortablewithme.”

Clareblushed.Ithadfelt very natural to bethat close. And tonightthey would be evencloser.

Justin’s cousin hadmade sure that hishousekeeper hadeverything ready andhad left a light supperforthem.

“This is so muchnicer than an inn,Justin. I am grateful toyourcousin,”Claresaidas they satdown to eatafterwashingup.

“I wanted our firstevening to be oursalone,Clare.Nofriends,no relatives, noservants. I wanted youto myself,” he added,putting his hand overhers. Clare would have

beenveryreadytopushher chair back and goupstairs right thatminute. It amazed herthat although shecertainly had somenatural fears about thenight ahead of her, forthe most part she waseagertobecomeJustin’swife.Hisslightest touchmade her feel suchdesire that she was leftbreathless.

It seemed a longtime until dinner wasover. “The housekeeperwill be here tomorrow,sowecanjustleavethedishes,”saidJustinwitha smile. “Perhaps youwouldliketogoupfirst,mydear?”

“Oh,yes,of course,”stammered Clare. Shehad not known how tomake the move herselfand was grateful to her

husband for initiatingthings. She could feelhis eyes watch her asshe went up the stairs,andshehopedhewouldnotbelonginfollowing.

He wasn’t. She hadjust finished turningdown the covers on thebed and was sitting infront of the pier glass,brushing her hairwhenJustin appeared at thedoor.

“Let me, my dear,”he said and comingclose, he took thebrush,andleaneddownand kissed the nape ofherneck.Thenhedrewthe brush through hercurls gently. She couldhave sat there forever,in a trance of pleasure,but he put the brushdown and whisperedinto her ear: “Your hairis very thoroughly

brushed,mydear.AndIam hoping that all mygood work will be invain. Come, let us tobed.”

Clare crawled underthe covers andwatchedas Justin began toundress. Although hehad been back inEngland for monthsnow, his skin was stillbronzefromhisyearsinthe West Indies, and

instead of modestlyloweringhereyes,Clarelooked at himadmiringly as he tookhis shirt off, exposinghis well-muscled armsand chest. When hestarted to unfasten histrousers, she did lookdown and heard himgiveasoftlaugh.

Inamoment,hewasslidinginnexttoher.“Iam sure that you and

your mother spenthours picking out thisexquisitely frothy nightrail, Clare, and,unfortunately, I amgoing to slip it right offyou.”

Justin leaned downto give her a light kissand sliding his handdown her leg, began topush her gown back ashe traced the shape ofher legwithhis fingers.

He rested his hand onher belly for a momentand then in one quickmovement, grasped thegown with both handsand pulled it over herhead. Clare lay thereunder the covers, verystill,wonderingwhenhewould touch her. Shewasn’tsurewhatpartofher bodywanted to feelhim most: her lips, herbreasts, or that

unexplored territorybetweenherlegs.

Her lips must havewanted him first, forthat was where hebegan, gently at first,and then moreinsistently. She lay stillfor his first kiss, butwhen he teased hermouth open, she foundshe quite naturally puthis arms around himanddrewhimcloser.

One of his handswas now on her breast,cupping it, circling thenipple with his thumb.And then, wonderfully,hesliddownandtookitinto his mouth, teasingthe nipple with histongue, the same wayhehadwithhermouth.She moaned withdelight as he leanedoverher.

The bedcovers were

hampering him, so hethrew them off andcrouched down aboveher, looking down intoher eyes with suchpassion and tendernessthat she had to closeher own or beoverwhelmed.

She slid her handsdown along his backand traced the line ofhiswaist andhips. Shecould feel his manhood

brushing her belly, butonlyhad thecourage tolightly touch itwithherfingers,marvelingatthecombination of satinsoftness and hardness.Thenhewaskissingherbelly and using hisgentlefingerstopartherthighs. She wasembarrassed that hewould feel how wet shewas down there; sheseemed to be turning

intoliquid.“Please, Justin,” she

moaned.“Not yet, Clare. I

want this to be ascomfortable for you aspossible.” And so hefirst brought her to anexquisite climax withhis fingersbefore finallypushing himself verygentlyat first,and thenharder, into herinnermostself.

It hurt for a fewminutes, but then shewas caught up in therhythm. Her ownpleasure had been sogreat that she wasamazed at howwonderful it felt tohavehim come in greatshuddersinsideher.

They slept withClarecuddledinfrontofhim and made loveagainalmostbeforethey

were fully awake thenextmorning.Thistimeit was even better, ifthat were possible, andClare lay thereafterward,herbodystill,but feeling as thoughthe ocean was movingthrough her, pushingher gently, flowing andebbing as the rhythmsofhislovinghad.

****They reached

Rainsboroughlateintheafternoon, and Clarefirst saw her new homejustasthesunbegantostrike the upperwindows, lighting themup and making thefaded red brick lookpinkandwarm.

“It is lovely,” shesaid,afterJustinhelpedher down from thecarriage.

“I am glad you like

it, Clare. I was worriedyou would feel a bitisolatedhereinDevon.”

“ButhowcouldIfeelthat way when I haveyou,Justin.”

Heleaneddownandgave her a quick kissbeforeheledherovertobe introduced to theservants lining thedrive.

Andindeed,fortheirfirstsixweeks,Clarefelt

as though she andJustin were living in aworld as golden, warm,and sweet as a globe ofhoney.

“This is ourhoneymoon,”Justinhadsaid one night as hescandalized anddelighted her bydrizzling the stickysweetness on herbreastsandinhernavel

and then licked it off.She blushed andgiggled, saying:“Turnabout’s fair play,”and did the same tohim. They were stickywithhoneyandsweatasthey finally made loveand then took turnswashing the other,which led to anotherhouroflovemaking,thistimeonthecarpet,sincethe sheets were too

sticky.“Whatever will the

maids think?” Clarewhispered as she lay inhisarms.

“Doyoucare?”“Perhaps not. You

are turning me into awanton,Justin.”

“Good, so long asyou only play thewantonwithme.”Itwasan odd thing to say,thought Clare, but she

forgotit immediately,asJustin kissed her intooblivion.

They spent most oftheir time together,exploring thecountryside onhorsebackoronfoot,foritwasalmostasnewtoJustin as to Clare. Heignored estate matters,turning everything overto his manager, andwhen Clare protested

that she should belearningherwayaroundthe house, he merelysaid,“LeavethattoMrs.Clarke. I pay herenough.”

Justin turned downall invitations andturned away all visitorsfor the first few weeks.Everybitofhisattentionwasconcentratedonhiswife,andClarefeltlovedandcaredforintheway

shehadlongedtobeallherlife.

One morning shehad arisen early, anddressing quietly so asnot to awake herhusband,hadgoneforashort walk beforebreakfast. It was lovelytobeoutwhilethegrasswas still wet with dewand heavy withgossamer webs thatwould be invisible later

in the day. It was thefirsttimeshehadhadtobe alone in months itseemed,andshereveledinthehour.

When she turnedback and came in sightof the house, she wassurprised and touchedtoseeherhusband,hisshirt unbuttoned, hishair still tousled fromsleep,settingouttolookfor her. She waved to

himgailyandasheranovertoher,shesawthatlook of vulnerability inhis eyes that had sotouchedher.

“Where were you,Clare?” he asked, hisvoice almostharshwithworry.

“Why, Justin, I onlywent out for an earlymorning stroll,” sheanswered. “You were

sleeping so soundly, Ididn’t want to wakeyou.”

“Don’t ever leavewithout telling meagain, Clare,” he saidfiercely.

“Of course not, mydear. Not if it worriesyou so,” she answered,puzzled by hisvehemence but verytouchedbyhisconcern.

After their time of

solitude, however, itbecame clear that theywould have to let theworld in. Justin beganriding the estate andgoing over tenantconcerns with hismanager, while ClarefinallygotMrs.Clarketoshow her through thehouseandintroduceherto her responsibilities.And early in August,insteadoftossingallthe

invitations back in thetray, Justin lifted oneup and said: “TheLyntonshave invitedusto a supper dance. Doyouwishtogo,Clare?”

“That would belovely, Justin. I amlooking forward tomeeting the people whowill be our neighborsandfriends.”

****Thebaronetandhis

wife were an oldercouple with twochildren, a daughter,and their oldest, a sonwhohadbeenservinginIndia for two years.Lieutenant Lynton washome on leave, and thesupperdancewasinhishonor.

Justin and Clarearrived late, just beforethe move in to supper.Clare had been placed

next to the younglieutenant, who was adelightful young manonly a year older thanshe. He had merrybrown eyes, a quicksmile, and kept herlaughing through mostof the meal withamusingtalesabouthistimeintheEast.

“Youaregivingmeavery unrealistic view ofwar, I am sure,

Lieutenant,”shesaidasthey got up from thetable.

His face becameserious for a moment.“Indeed, I have. But Ihave found looking forany humorouspossibilities enables meto survive, LadyRainsborough.”Hiseyeswerebleak,butonly foramoment, and withoutthinking, she laid her

hand on his arm insilentsympathy.ShefeltJustin behind her, andwithdrawing her hand,slipped it through herhusband’sarm.

“Lieutenant Lyntonwas keeping me wellamused all throughdinner,Justin.”

“So I noticed,Lynton.”

Clare was surprisedat her husband’s tone,

which was cold anddismissive. “I will seeboth of you later,” shesaid quickly. “I amlooking forward to mywaltzes,” she added,smiling up at each ofthem.

But later, she wassurprisedtohaveJustinapproach her for thedance which was tohave been youngLynton’s.

“Oh,Justin, Iwouldlove to dance with youagain, but I ampromised to thelieutenant.”

“Not anymore. Iconvinced him that anewlywedcouplewantedall their waltzestogether, unfashionablethoughthatmayseem,”he answered lightly,lifting her chinwithhisfingertip and looking

downintohereyeswiththat passionateconcentration thatalwaysundidher.

“As long as hedoesn’t feel I slightedhim, Justin, I amhappy,”sherepliedaftertheymovedoff.

****On the ride home,

however, Justin startedtoquestionher.

“Whatever were you

and Lynton laughing atoverdinner,mydear?”

“Oh, he kept meentertained frombeginning to end withone foolish story afteranother about thearmy,”sheanswered.

“I see. And yourhand on his arm? Wasthat in response to hisgoodhumor?”

“Why, Justin! I dobelieveyouare jealous.”

Clarelaughed.“Whywasyourhand

resting so long on hisarm, Clare?” Justindemanded in a hardvoice that Clare hadneverheardbefore.

“Youarenot teasingme, are you, Justin?You are quite serious,”shesaid,wonderingly.

“Iassureyou,Iam.”“I hardly remember

why.IthinkitwasthatI

accusedhimof glossingover the reality of acampaign, and for amoment or two, I couldsense the pain beneathhis laughter. And he isso young to be in themiddleofawar.Itwasanatural gesture ofsympathy, I assureyou.” Clare could stillnot quite believe thatherhusbandwasupset.

Justin took a deep,

ragged breath and thensaid,inhisownfamiliarvoice: “Forgive me,Clare. You are sowarmhearted, of courseyou would be touchedby his situation. Whowouldnotbe?”

“Justin, you couldnotreallythinkthatthelieutenant held anyattractionforme?”

“Why not? He isyoungandhandsomein

thatuniform.”“Heisaboy,Justin.

Andyouareaman.Theonly man for me,” sheaddedquietly.“ThemanIlovewithallmyheart.”

“Forgiveme,darling,for my moment ofmadness?”herhusbandsaid, putting his armaround her and pullinghertohisside.

“There is nothing toforgive, Justin. I know

youonlysaiditbecauseyou love me,” sheanswered, all hertensiondrainedawayasshe cuddled againsthim.

That night, herhusband’s lovemakingwasmore gentle and atthe same time, morepassionate than ever,andClaremarveledthateven after six weeks ofmarriage and a minor

disagreement,theirlove,which had seemedperfect that first night,was only becomingstronger.

****Giles had known

that Clare’s weddingwouldbetorture,buthehad hoped that if hecould take the pain ofseeing her asRainsborough’s bride,then he would have

faced the worst andcould begin to recover.As he drove down toWhitton, however,seated next to Sabrina,herealizedhowoftenhehad fantasized Clarebesidehim.Howhehaddreamed about thissummer. She wouldhave accepted hisproposal and comedowntoWhittonforherfirstvisitashis fiancée.

Theywouldhavewalkedand fished and riddenand accepted thecongratulations of theirneighbors and friends.They would have ...Giles clenched his fistsas he replayed thescene. Theywould havekissed again. He hadgone so slowly withClare, this Season, andthen, suddenly, therewasRainsborough.

Giles spentmuch ofthe journey looking outthe coach window, andSabrina could get nomore than one-wordanswers from him, nomatter what topic sheraised. She was veryaware of his pain. Alltheir lives they hadshared a specialwordlesscommunication,sensingeach other’s slightest

change ofmood. Had itbeen any other thanClarewhohadhurthim,Sabrina would havepushed and proddedGiles until she got himto open up to her. Butthis pain was so deepandsoprivate, thatshecouldn’t speak,but justsat in silent agonyherself, hoping thattime, the great healer,wouldworkitswaywith

herbrother.The first weeks

homewere the worst ofGiles’s life. He was upearly in the morning,eitherridingortrampingthe hills for hours. Inthe afternoon, hecloseted himself in thelibrary,losinghimselfinhisstudyofPersian.Hehad become quite anOrientalist at Oxford,and had translated

several poets. Hisreputation had followedhim down fromuniversity, and theHomeOfficeoftencalleduponhimfortranslationof various messages,official and otherwise.He thankedGod for hisinterest now, for tryingto find the right phrasein English to fullyexpress a poet’sintention was the only

thingthatkepthismindoffClare.

After a while,however, he had beeneverywhere alone thathehadvisitedinfantasywithClare.Havingfaceddown the worst, herealized he wouldsurvive her loss.Perhaps he would evencome to think of her asshedidhim:anoldanddear friend. Perhaps by

the fall, he would beable to see her andsimply enjoy herpresence in his life. Hehopedso.

Earlyonemorningofhis third week home,thegroombroughtbothhis gelding andSabrina’s mare to thefront of the house.When Giles looked athim inquiringly, theman said that Lady

Sabrina had informedhim last night that shehadplannedtoridewithherbrother.

“Well, if she does,she had better getherself down here,then,” said Giles as heheard his sister comingdown the steps behindhim. He soundedannoyed, but wassecretly glad that shehad taken the initiative

tojoinhim.“I am right behind

you,littlebrother.”Giles turned and

gave her the first realsmile she had seen onhisfaceinweeks.

“Good morning,Sabrina. Ihope youarewilling to foregobreakfast,forIintendtobeoutforafewhours.”

“IhadCookpackusapicnic,”sheanswered,

pointing to thesaddlebagsonhermare.I thought we could rideup to Camden Hill andbreakfastthere?”

“Iwouldlikethat.”The fields were

shrouded in mist, andthe two rode silentlythrough the earlymorning fog. Theirsilence was acomfortable one,however, and Sabrina,

who had been worriedabout breaking intoGiles’s lonely routine,knewthatshehadbeenrighttodoso.Whenthesun finally started toburn the mist away,their horses perked up,and they had anexhilarating gallopbeforewindingtheirwayuptothetopofthehill.

“I could never havelived in Kent,” said

Sabrina, waving herhandatthescenebelowthem.“It is too flat.Toomuchofasameness.”

“I love our westcountry,too,”saidGiles,really seeing hissurroundings for thefirst time indays, otherthanjustasabackdropto a ruined dream. Thehills and the hedgeswereashiftingcanvasofgreens as the clouds

covered and uncoveredthe sun, and his heartliftedatthesightofit.

Sabrina pulled thesaddlebags down andspreadouttheoldclothCookhadprovided.

“Ham and cheeseand fresh bread andapples,Giles.”

“I am ravenous.”And he was, to hissurprise.

The apples were a

bitmealy, for theywerethe last from the cellar,and as Sabrina bit intohers, she shrieked andsprayed apple all overherridinghabit.

“Found a worm,have you, Brina?”teasedGiles.“Well,saveitforfishing.”

“It is not funny,Giles,” complained hissister in the same tone

shehadusedasachildwhen he teased her. “Imight have swallowedit.”

“Here, have somecider,” saidherbrother.“That will washeverything down. Thewormmighthavehadatwinforallweknow,”headded, with a wickedgrin.

Sabrina choked onthe cider, and then,

looking over at herbrother, she had tolaugh.“Youareasawfultomeasever,Giles.”

Giles lay back andwatched the cloudsscuddingoverthesun.

“Do you rememberthe day Clare came toWhitton for the firsttime? We were lyingright here on CamdenHill, wondering whatshewouldbelike.”

“I remember,”Sabrinasaidsoftly.

“I didn’t fall in lovewithherthatsummer.Ithink it was two yearslater. But I knew veryearly that it was Clare,Sabrina. I’ve loved herforalongtime.”

Sabrina reachedoutand grasped herbrother’s hand. “I havebeenworriedaboutyou,Giles.”

“Oh, I will be allright. I admit I havebeen in hell since thebetrothalannouncement, but Iseemtobecomingback.Although, I must agreewithVirgil,thattheroadfrom Avernus is noteasy.”

“I knowall the rightwords tosay,Giles,butIdon’tthinktheywouldmeananythingtoyou.”

“Like: ‘You will getover it. You will findsomeone else.’ Or ‘timeheals all wounds?’ I’vebeen saying them tomyself.Ijustwish...”

“What,Giles?”“I just wish I liked

Rainsboroughbetter.”“You could hardly

expecttolikeyourrival,Giles!”

“No, I don’t mean Ineed to become his

friend. It is just thatheseems...Idon’tknow...too charming ... toohandsome.”

“He also seems tolove Clare very much,Giles,” said Sabrinahesitantly. “She toldmethat forthefirsttimeinher life, she feltsomeone really neededher.”

“I need her, damn

it,”saidGilesbitterly,ashe sat up and took adrink from the bottle ofcider. “But she neverknewthat,didshe?ShethoughtIonlylovedheras a friend and wasgoing to offer for herbecause it was theexpected andcomfortable thing todo.That is what hurts themost, Sabrina. That I

have only myself toblameforallthis.”

“You can’t blameyourself forRainsborough’sexistence, Giles. Theyfell in love. It happensallthetime.”

“Iknow,Iknow.”“At least you will

speak of it now. I wasworried about you,Giles.”

“Youdon’tneedto.I

willsurvivethis.Cominghome without her wasvery hard. But I amused to it now. By thetimeIseeherinLondonthisfall,IamsureIwillbeabletolookatherasan old and dear friend.My love started asfriendship, so I amtrusting that it can bethatagain.”

“I am sure it can,Giles,” said his sister

reassuringly. But shewasnotsureatall,andsheknewthathewasn’teither.

ChapterSeven

September,1816“You look exquisite,

mydear.”“Thankyou,Justin,”

Clare smiled at herhusband’s image in thepierglass.

“Here, let me fastenthatforyou.Youcango,Martha.”

Clareshiveredashis

hands brushed herneck. The sapphire anddiamond choker he hadgivenherashisweddinggift fit snugly aroundher throatandmatchedtheblueofhersilkgownperfectly.

“What is exquisite isthis necklace, Justin,”saidClare.“Iamalmostafraidtowearit.”

“Nonsense, my

dear.” Justin leanedcloser and kissed herright where hershoulder met her neck,and then turned herface to his for a longkiss.

“Isupposewehavetogo to the ball,” hegroaned,pullingawayatlast.

Clare laughed. “Ofcourse we do. It would

lookveryodd, indeed, ifwe avoided LadyBellingham.”

“Well, I warn you,Clare,Iamgoingtobeavery unfashionablehusband and claim asmanydancesasIcan.Ihate sharing you withanyone.” He leaneddown and kissed heragain, and Clare gaveherself over to thedelight of being so

cherished.Ofcourse,bythe time their kiss wasover, her hair was nolonger perfect, andMartha had to besummoned back. And,as had been theirpattern this LittleSeason,theyarrivedlatetotheBellinghamball.

“Howmanyminutestonight,Bertie?”

“Twenty-sevenandahalf. It looks likeCrewe

isclosestagain.”“Lady Rainsborough

looks delightfullyflushed tonight, don’tyou know,” said Crewe,pocketinghismoney.

“Damn. You wouldthink that after a fewmonths of marriage,theywouldn’t still be inoneanother’spockets.”

“I know his sort,”said Marlow, lookingover to where Justin

was hovering over hiswifeasshegreetedtheirhost and hostess.“Won’t letheroutofhissight. Wants her all tohimself.”

“Even I admit it isquite romantic,” saidCrewewithamocksigh.

“Isupposeyoucouldcall it that,” saidMarlow, with ashuttered look. “Myfatherwaslikethatwith

my mother,” he addedand left abruptly,leaving his companionsnonplussed.

"Tomorrow, I ambettingonahalfhour.”

“Ah, but look at theway he is leading herout onto the floor,Crewe. Forty minutes,atleast.”

****Clare loved dancing

with her husband

almost as much asmaking love with him.Although she wasunaware of the morevulgar comments, sheknew that people wereamused at theRainsboroughs’devotiontooneanother.Letthemlaugh. She didn’t care,for she and Justin hadsomething that mostcouples could onlydreamabout.

She had seen theWhittons out of thecorner of her eye whenshe and Justin hadmoved onto the dancefloor. She and Sabrinahad exchanged a fewshort notes during thesummer, and she waslooking forward tocatchinguponthelocalgossip. She had spentso much time atWhitton that it had

almostbecomeasecondhome, and she enjoyedhearing all the news,fromthemidwife’slatestdelivery to theabsentminded vicar’snewest gaffe. After herwaltzwithJustinandacotillion with SirMaximillian Ongar, shemade her way over towhere Sabrina wastalking with a group offriends.

“Clare! You lookpositively blooming,”said Lucy Kirkman,slidinghereyesdowntoClare’swaist.

Clare blushed. Shewas not increasing yet,but one of theembarrassing thingsabout being anobviously besottedcouple was thateveryone,atonetimeoranother, took the

opportunity tosubtlyornot so subtly inspectherwaistline.

She had learned toignore them, and justsaid,“Thankyou,Lucy.”

Sabrina rescued herby enveloping her in awarmhug.“Youdolookwonderful, Clare. AsdoesJustin.”

“I would say thatmarriage agrees withboth of you,” said a

voice behind Clare. Itwas Giles, and Clareheld her breath as sheoffered him her hand.Hemerelyheld itgentlyfor a moment andsmiled down at heraffectionately.Itwasherold familiar friend Gileswho stood there, asrelaxedand comfortableas he had ever been.Sheletherbreathoutina soft sigh. The

Whittons had come upto town late, and thiswas their first sight ofeach other since thewedding breakfast. Andthank God, it was asshe had hoped: theywerestillfriends.

“Do you have adance free for me,Clare?”

“The next two arespoken for, Giles, but Ido have the first waltz

free.”“Good.Thenputme

downfor it.AndLucy, Ibelieve this cotillion isours?”

“Indeed it is, Giles,”replied Lucy, smilinglike the cat who hadgottenthecreamastheymovedoff.

“I swear I havebecome reconciled toyour marriage, Clare,”saidSabrina. “But Iam

not sure I will everforgive you if I end upwithLucyKirkmanasasister-in-law.”

Clare laughed withrelief and amusement.She was grateful thatboth Sabrina and Gilesseemed able to admitherback into theireasycompanionship.

Clare was withJustinwhenGilescametoclaimhiswaltz.

“Good evening,Whitton,” her husbandsaid politely, hiseyebrows liftedinquiringly.

“I believe this is ourwaltz, Clare,” said Gileslightly. “I was lucky toget one,” he added, ashe sensed rather thansaw Rainsboroughstiffen.“Yourwifeisoneofthemostsoughtafterladiesattheball.”

Rainsborough gavehim a cold, fleetingsmile, and Giles wassure he could feel theearl’s eyes boring intohisbackastheywalkedaway. Earlier in theeveninghehadmadeuphismind to act the oldfriend as much aspossible. Maybe if heacted long enough itwouldbecometrue.Godknows,itisnoteasy,he

thought,asClareplacedher hand in his and heclasped her around thewaist. All theperspective and peacehe had gained over thesummer disappeared asshe looked up at himandsmiled.

They danced welltogether; they alwayshad. And after the firstfew minutes of tension,they both relaxed and

begantogivethemselvesover to the music andthe movement. Gileswas even able to getClare laughing with thelatest story aboutReverendBrill.

“He didn’t reallystart to read thewedding service at abaptism!”

“He did. Only a fewlines, but enough tofrighten the godmother

and godfather out oftheirwits.”

Sincethegodparentswerethemostdedicatedbachelorandspinsterinthe village, Clare couldonlylaugh.

“Come,letmereturnyou to Justin.” Gileswalked her back towhere Rainsboroughwas standing. Standingout like a sore thumb,thought Giles, for he

wasrightontheedgeofthe dance floor wheretheyhadlefthim.

“May I get you aglass of punch, Clare?”he asked after hehanded her over to herhusband.

“Thank you, Giles,”Clare replied with asmile.“Iamthirsty.”

Giles bowed and ashe moved away, JustingrabbedClare’sarm.

“I think we will begoing,mydear.”

Clare looked up athiminsurprise.Hisfacewas set and hard, andhis thumb andforefinger dug into herarm. “Going? Where,Justin? Giles is gettingme some punch,” sheadded, completelypuzzled by his reaction.A look of pain andsurprisepassedoverher

faceashisgripgoteventighter.

“Ah,yes,Giles.YouroldfriendGiles.”

Justin’svoicewassocuttingthatClarefelthehad flicked her with awhip.

“I don’t understandwhat youmean, Justin.Are you feeling ill?” shestammered.“Isthatwhyyouwishtogohome?”

“The sight of you

smilingup into his facedoesmakeme feel sick,my dear. And I do notintend to stand for anymore of it.” Keeping hishold on her arm, herhusband guided heracross the room,nodding and smiling allthewhile, as thoughallwerewell.Hemadetheirapologies to theirhostess, claiming thathis wife was not feeling

quitethething.Lady Bellingham

smiled knowingly, andClare was handed intotheircarriagebeforesherealized what washappening. Justin, whohadfinallyreleasedher,satacross fromher,hisface an unreadablemask. She winced asshe rubbed her upperarm. She would havebruises in themorning,

she was sure. She wasfeelingquitedisoriented.

Surely Justin, herloving, tender Justin,had not hurt her likethat?Itfeltlikeanugly,dark stranger wassittingoppositeher.Onewho resembled herhusband, but hadsomehow taken hisplace by some sort ofwizardry.Shewasafraidto say anything, afraid

toarousehisanger,andso she just sat silently,hoping that when theywalked through theirdoor,Justinwouldhavebeenreturnedtoher.

But when theyreached St. JamesStreet, instead offollowing her up thestairs as was his wont,Justinmerelydismissedthe footmen and askedtheirbutlertobringhim

brandy in the library.Clare was left standingonthestairs,hopingfora glance from Justin, akind word, anything toindicatethatthiswasalla dreadfulmisunderstanding ofsomesort.

She dismissedMartha as soon as herabigail had undone thetapes of her gown. Shedidn’t want her to see

the marks of Justin’sfingers onher arm.Herhands were shaking asshe undid the clasp ofthe sapphire choker,andshe lookeddownatit as it lay glittering onher dressing table. Shehaddancedandlaughedwith a number ofpartners these past fewnights. There had beenno difference in herbehaviorwithGiles,had

there? Surely she hadnot given Justin anyreason for distrustingher? Had she let Gilesholdher too close?Hadshe looked up at himdifferently?Shecouldn’thelp caring about him,for he was her oldestand dearest friend.What had she done tomakeJustinbehavelikethis?

She slipped herdressoffandpulledhernight rail overherheadandlookedoverattheirbed. This was the firstnight in their marriagethat Justin had nothelpedherundress.Thefirst night, in fact, shethought with a blush,that she even had hernightrailongettingintobed.

Suddenly she

remembered LieutenantLynton and herhusband’sinsecurity.Ofcourse, she thoughtwith relief. If he wasjealous of someone Ididn’t even know, thenhe would naturally feelvulnerablethe first timeI danced with Giles.When he comes up, Iwill tell him Iunderstand.

But he didn’t come

up, and after what feltlike hours, but was, intruth, only one, Claredecided that she wouldgodowntohim.

All the servants hadbeen sent to bed, andthe only lightdownstairs was comingfrom under the librarydoor. Clare knockedgently and when shedidn’t receive any reply,tookhercourageinboth

hands and opened thedoor.

Justinwas standingbyhisdesk,backtothedoor. He had a glass ofbrandyinhishand,andthedecanternexttohimwas already half-empty.Clarewassurprisedandconcerned, for she hadnever seen him drinkmuchmorethanaglassof wine since she’dmethim. He must really be

upsetwithherifhehaddrunk so much brandyinsuchashorttime.

“Aren’t you comingup to bed, my dear?”sheaskedtimidly.

He turned aroundthen, and she saw thathisfacewasflushedandhiseyesexpressionless.

“Iamsurprised thatyoudesiremycompany,Clare,” he said in thesame cutting tone he

had been using sinceher waltz with Giles. “Iam sure you wouldprefer to have Whittonnexttoyou.”

“Justin, you mustknow that is not true,”responded Clare, tryingto answer calmly andpatiently, now that sheunderstood that hisbehavior was comingfrom his sense ofinsecurity. “I danced

withGilesbecauseheisan old friend. If therewas anything I did togive you anotherimpression, I am sorry.Butyouaremybelovedhusband,andGilesonlyafriend,nothingmore.”

“Don’t act theinnocentwithme,Clare.I saw the way youlingered on the dancefloor,lookingupathim,leading him on, and

rightinfrontofme.Iamsure that gossips willhaveafieldday.”Justingulpeddown the rest ofhis brandy, and as heturned topouranother,Clare moved next tohim, putting her handgently on his arm,saying softly: “Pleasedon’t drink any morebrandy,mydear.”

Without eventurning to look at her,

Justin backhanded heracrossthe face,sendingher stumbling againstthe sofa. She pulledherself up and stoodthere, hand to herreddening and swellingcheek, mouth open,gasping for breath. Shewas afraid her legswouldn’t hold her, butshemanagedtosupportherself against the sofaarm.

Surely she was inthe middle of anightmare. Surely shewould wake up in amoment, next to Justinin their bed. He wouldkiss away the fear andthenmakelovetoherinthat wonderful way hehad of combiningtendernessandpassion.But her fingers couldfeel the cold leather ofthe sofa arm, and her

cheek was throbbing.Her tongue gentlyprobed her teeth, andshe was horrified torealize it wasautomatically checkingtosee ifanywere loose.She gave an hystericalsobbing laugh to thinkthat she, Lady ClareRainsborough, wasstanding therewondering if herhusband had loosened

any of her teeth. Shehad seen women of thelower classes missingteethandsportingblackeyes,andshehadpitiedthem for marryingbullies. But this couldnotbehappeningtoher.Shewasthedaughterofamarquess, the wife ofanearl.

Justinhadturnedather laugh, and Clarebacked as far as she

could into the sofa. Itwas as though he weretruly seeing her for thefirst time that night:hand to her swollencheek, shrinking fromhim, and he let out adeep groan. His eyeswerealiveagainandthecoldmaskgone,andhereached out his handslowly and gently, topullherhandawayfromherface.

“Oh,myGod,Clare.WhathaveIdone?”

She looked up athim, pain and fear inhereyes. Ithurt forherto talk, but shemanaged to say slowly:“Iswear,Justin,Gilesisnothing but an oldfriend.”

“Don’t, Clare. Don’tevensayit.Iknowheis.Truly I do. I ... I don’tknow what came over

me.IthinkitisjustthatI loveyousomuchandcan’t stand to see youwithanyoneelse.”

“But I am not withanyone else, Justin. Iamwithyou.”

He reached out andgently touched her lividcheek. “Did I do this,Clare?”

She only looked thetruthathim.

“I know you can

never forgiveme, Clare,butIswearIdidn’tevenknowwhat Iwasdoing.It must have been thebrandy. I don’t usuallydrink, you know,” hebabbled. “Oh, God, youcan’t believe I wouldeverknowinglyhurtyoulike this?” He lookeddownattheemptyglassin his hand and hurledit into thehearth. Thenhe poured the contents

ofthedecanterontothefire, and the flamesleapt blue and high.Both Clare and Justinwatchedthemasthoughmesmerized until theydieddown.

“I will sleep in mydressing room tonight,Clare,” he said withoutlooking at her. “I amsureyoudon’twantmeto touch you. I swear Iwill not drink like that

again.But,oh,mydear,don’t look at Whittonthewayyoudidtonight.Itcutstothequick.”

Clare couldn’t standit. It had been anightmare after all,albeit a waking one. Ashort, brandy-inducedmadness that hadovertaken her husband.And only caused by hisloveandneedforher.Ofcourse, he would be

jealous of Giles. It wasunderstandable. Afterall, she had almostmarried him. Wouldhave married him, hadnotJustincomealong.

She couldn’t standthe sight of herhusband’s back anylonger. She slowlywalked over to him andslippedherhandinhis.“I don’t wish to sleepalone tonight, Justin,”

shewhispered.Heliftedherhandto

hismouth and brushedit gently. “Areyousure,Clare? I would notblameyou.”

She leaned into himandfelthimshudderashesoftenedagainsther.“Come,Justin,letusgoupstairs.”

Theywalkedhandinhand as though theywere two children

finding their way in thedark. When theyreached Clare’s room,Justin gave her onemore chance to sendhim away, but she justshookherhead,smiled,andledhimin.

He had never beenso gentle. There was abasin of water on thenightstand, and hemade a cool compressfor her cheek, holding

herinhisarmsasifshewere a baby. Then heslipped her night railover her head and laidherbackonthebed.

“I am afraid to kissyou, Clare,” hewhispered,andshesawthathehadtears inhiseyes. “I don’t want tohurtyoumore.”

“There are otherplaces to kiss besidesmymouth,Justin.”

He began with herneck and shoulders,andmoveddown toherbreast. His tonguecaressed each nipple,and then suddenly hetookonebreast intohismouthandsuckedonitlikeachildsuckingonasugarteat.

Clare guided hishand in between herlegs. Soon they wererocking together, slowly

atfirst,andthenfaster.He came first withbroken cries that wereechoedbyherownafewmoments later. Andthen tears from both ofthem.

“Clare, you are themost precious thing inmy life,” he whispered.She reached out tocaress his face and feltitaswetasherown.

“As you are for me,

Justin,” she responded,pullinghisheadclosetoher breasts and kissingthe top of his headsoftly.

****The next morning

Clare lookeddispassionately atherself inherglass.Herupper arm was indeedmarked by purplebruises,butthosecouldbe concealed quite

easily by several of hermorning gowns. It washer face that was theproblem.Luckilyhereyewas not affected, buther cheek was stillswollen and red, andsheexpecteditwouldbeaday or twobefore shewasbacktonormal.Shewouldhavetocancelallherengagementsforthenext two days, for shecould not imagine any

excuses that wouldexplainherappearance.

When Martha camein to help her dress,Clare saw the maid’seyes widen at hermistress’sappearance.

“Oh, Martha,” Claresaidwithmockdespair,“Iwaslookingforabookto put me to sleep lastnight and was foolishenough to think I couldmakemywaywithouta

candle. I bumped rightinto the doorjamb. Ivow,Iamalmosthappy,for it givesme a day ortwotomyselftorest.”

Clarechatteredgailyabout this and that asMarthahelpedherdressand arranged her hair.Usually it was Marthawhogossipedaway,butthis morning the maidseemed to have little tosay and Clare couldn’t

bearhersilentscrutiny.But it was no one’sbusiness, after all,thought Claredefensively. Certainlynotherabigail’s.

“Please direct Petersto turn down all myinvitation for today andtomorrow, Martha. AndIwillbreakfastuphere,”she added, gesturing atthe small table by thewindow.

“Yes,mylady.”Martha was devoted

tohermistress,aswerealltheservants,andshewent down the stairsmuttering to herself,“Walked into thedoorjamb,myarse.Thathandsome husband ofhers did that to her, Iwager.” After she gaveClare’s orders to thebutlerandthecook,shewent looking for the

housekeeper, Mrs.Clarke.

“You will not beseeing the mistressdownstairs today, Mrs.Clarke.”

The housekeeperlooked up from heraccounting in surprise.“Is my lady not feelingwell? Can she beincreasing,” she askedexpectantly, after amoment.

“No, no. Herstomach is fine,” saidMartha, pulling up achairopposite.“Itisherface.”

“Herface?”“Allredandswollen.

And her arm all purplewithhisfingerprints.”

“Whose fingerprints,Martha? Whatever areyousaying?”

“Iseenmyma’sfacelike that often enough,”

responded Marthabitterly.“Icantellwhena man has hit awoman.”

“LordRainsborough? StrikeLady Rainsborough? Iam sure you aremistaken,Martha.”Mrs.Clarke’s tone hadbecomequitecool.“Whythey are absolutelydevoted to one another.He has never been

anything but lovingwhen I see themtogether.”

“Aye, well mystepfatherwaslikethat,too. Could charm thebirds out of theirnests,when he was in themoodtodoit.Andthenin an instant, ifmymadid one little thingwrong, like scorch hisshirt collar, he was onher.”

“I am certain youmust be wrong. DidLady Rainsborough sayanything to explain herappearance?”

“Oh,shehadagoodstory.Mymacouldhavewritten books, she hadsomanystories,too.Myladysaidshewentdownto get a book from thelibrary and ran into thedoorjamb. And pigs can

fly,”addedMartha.“ThenIamsurethat

that is what happened,Martha,” replied Mrs.Clarke. “Youcanhardlycompare your mother’ssituation with that ofthe quality,” she saidrepressively. “And youare not to go spreadingthis story of yoursaround, do you hear?Lord Rainsborough is akind man. Why, I have

hardly heard him raisehis voice to a servant,muchlesshiswife.”

Martha got up witha dramatic sigh. “Oh, Iwill keep quiet, Mrs.Clarke. But for mylady’s sake and no oneelse’s.Butmarkme,thefirst time is never thelast.”

Justin had been upearly thatmorning, andClare did not see him

until early afternoon.She had spent the dayquietly reading andembroidering and wassoenjoyingthepeaceofa day without socialobligation that she wasalmost grateful to herhusband for providingtheopportunity.ShedidfeelapangofguiltwhenMartha brought upSabrina’s card. “Peterswasn’t sure if you

wanted to turn LadySabrina away with alltheotherladies.”

“I would welcomeher company, Martha.But not today,” saidClare, her handautomaticallyfeelinghercheek, as she had offand on all day to seewhether the swellinghad gone down at all.“TellherIamnotfeelingwell.”

“Yes,mylady.”A short time later,

Marthawasback. “LordRainsboroughwishes toknow if you will seehim,”sheannounced inabsolutely neutraltones.

“Why, of course,”said Clare, laughingnervously. Justin hadnever asked forpermission before this.Theirs had been a

delightfully informalmarriage, with bothfeelingquitefreetowalkin on the other at anytime.

Martha admittedJustin and closed thedoor behind him. Shestood for a minuteoutside, glaring at thedoorasthoughhecouldfeel her through thesolid wood. “You hadbetter not touch her

again while I amaround, my lord,” shemuttered, before shemovedoff.

Justinlookedalmostas bad as she did,thoughtClarewithsomegenuine amusement.His face was pale, andhis eyes a little swollenfrom the drinking andfrom his tears of thenightbefore.

“Good day, my

dear,”shesaid,intonesas close to normal aspossible.

“I amsorry I ranoffthis morning, Clare. Iconfess, I couldn’t bearto lookatwhat I’ddonetoyou.”

“Well, Justin,neitherofus isaprettypicture today,” she saidlightly. “But we mustput this behind us andmoveon,”shecontinued

moreseriously.Justin reached into

his pocket and pulledout a small oblong box.“Thisisasortofpledge,Clare,” he said quietly.“Isaw itandthoughtofyouimmediately.”

“Justin, you did notneedtodoanythinglikethis,”sheprotested.

Hecameover toherandputhisfingergentlyon her lips. “Hush, my

darling.Closeyoureyesand letme fasten this.”Clare felt his fingersbrush the nape of herneck as he fastened asmall necklace aroundher throat. She wasrelieved it was nothingas big as the sapphirechoker, forhehadbeenfar too generous withjewelry during theirshortmarriage.

“Stay there,” he

whispered into her ear,“and keep your eyesclosed.”Hewentandgother hand mirror fromthe dressing table andcoming back, held it infront of her. “Now youcanopenthem,Clare.”

Clare opened themand caught her breathin surprise, gratitude,and strangely enough,dismay. Around herthroat was a delicate

gold chain andsuspended from it aheart-shaped amethyst.It was so similar toGiles’s gift and sodifferent from Justin’susual taste that therewas somethingdisturbing about it.Clare fingered it gently,completely at a loss forwords.

“I don’t know whattosay,Justin.”

“You don’t have to,Clare.ItlooksjusthowIimagined it: a perfectlength and a deepenough purple to bringout the violet in youreyes. I have alwaysregretted making youremove Whitton’s gift,Clare, for it wasflattering.NowyouhavesomethingaslovelythatIgaveyou.”

“It is very beautifulJustin. I will treasureit.” Clare was touchedand grateful, and shewished she felt onlythat. But her gratitudewassomehowmarredbya feeling of ... well, shecouldn’t quite put herfinger on it. It justseemed strange thatJustin would want toremind her of Giles,afterhisjealousy.Itwas

as though he weregiving her and Giles asort ofmessage. Almostmarkingherashisown.Normally she loved hisslightly possessiveshowsofaffection.Theymade her feel essentialto him. But althoughthe necklace was anexquisite piece and shewould wear it to honorJustin’s gesture, shewas sure she would

never feel quitecomfortableinit.

It was three daysbefore Clare’s face wasback to normal andwhen theRainsborough’s finallyreappeared at the nextrout, the glances downatherwaistlineandtheinquiries after herhealth were not subtleatall.

Sabrina was at

Clare’s side almostimmediately, solicitousand concerned. “I wasgetting really worried,Clare,when Peters sentme away againyesterday.”

“I hated to do it,Sabrina, but I was stillnotfeelingquitemyself,”apologizedClare.

“Idon’tmeantopry,but I hope it wasn’tanythingserious?”

“No,justfatigueanda cold. And no, I am notincreasing,” addedClare, with a twinkle inher eyes, answeringSabrina’s unspokenquestion.“Anddon’tyoustart inspecting mywaist.Ipromiseyouwillbe one of the first toknow, after Justin, ofcourse,”sheadded.

Giles had seen their

arrival from across theroom.Clarewasdressedinlavendersarcenetandhad violets threadedthroughher hair. Therewasa flashofpurpleather throat as shewalked by a candelabraand he realized it wassomething new,obviouslyagiftfromherhusband.When he sawher with Sabrina, hemadehiswayover.

“Clare, I am veryhappy to see youhere,”he said after theygreeted one another.“WhenIcamebackwithyour punch the othernightandyouhadgone,I was afraid you hadbeentakenill.AndthenSabrina told me I wasright.Youarerecovered,Ihope?”

“Lady Rainsboroughis completely recovered,

Whitton,” said a voicebehind Giles as Justinjoinedthem.“Thankyouforyourconcern.”

“Clare is an oldfriend,andIwillalwaysbe concerned for herwelfare,” Giles saideasily.

“Ah, but that is notat all necessary,Whitton, for she nowhasalovinghusbandtocare for her. Come, my

dear,Iwishtointroduceyoutosomeonewhohasjust returned from theWest Indies. Iwanthimto meet my beautifulwife.” He took Clare’sarmandtheyweregonevery quickly, leavingGiles and his sisterlooking at one anotherinconsternation.

“Well, Rainsboroughcertainly is making hisfeelingsclear,Sabrina.”

“Oh, Giles, I amsorry. I am sure it isnone of Clare’s doing.She still has all the oldaffection for you. Andthough I am loathe tosay it, were IRainsborough, I wouldbe tempted to keep mywife away from oldfriendsandsuitors.”

“Oh, I canunderstand it,” saidGiles. “Although what

he thinks he has toworry about, I don’tknow. Clare was clearlybesotted from the firsttime they met. He hasno rival in me,” headdedbitterly. “Did youseehernecklace?”

“Yes. Isn’t it theoneyou gave her, Giles? Ithought it was a prettygesture on her part towearitagain.”

“No.Itisenoughlike

minetoremindyouofitand different enough togive the clear messagethatifanyoneisgoingtobring out the purplelights inmywife’s eyes,itwillbeme,thankyouverymuch. It is anoddgift, don’t you think,Brina?”

“Perhaps you arejust overly sensitivebecause it is Clare,Giles.”

“I suppose so. Well,message received, butI’llbegoddamnedifIdonot claim a dance withher tonight andwheneverIwill.”

****Although Clare had

toldherselfthatJustin’sjealousy was a thing ofthe past, that theincident was closed,that she had convincedhimshe feltnothing for

Giles, she had madesure to fill her dancecard quickly and onlyhad a country-danceavailable for her oldfriend. She had beenrelaxed for their fatefulwaltz,butforthisdanceshe was still andunresponsive, alwayswondering whetherJustin was somewhereon the sidelineswatching.Hersmilewas

forced, and after themusicstoppedandGilesledheroffthefloor,shethanked himbreathlessly and askedhim to take her over towhere Lucy Kirkmanand a few friends werechatting. Itwasclear toGiles that she wasdismissing him, but heonly smiled a politegood-bye, as thoughnothing had changed

betweenthem.Clare was relieved

that her husband hadnotbeenhoveringattheedge of the dance floor,but engrossed inconversation with agroupof acquaintances.Since she had no moredances with Giles, shewas able to relax andenjoy the rest of theevening. Her waltzeswith her husband were

delightful, and they leftearly,eacheagerforthepassionate lovemakingtheyknewwastocome.

And when Clareawokethenextmorningand looked over at hersleeping husband, sheknew that difficult as itwas to pull back fromGiles, it was well worthitifitkeptherhusbandhappy and theirmarriage as solid as it

had every indication ofbeing. There was onlyone thing that wouldmake her happier, shedecided, running herhands across her belly.That was to satisfy allthe gossips and giveJustin the son he andshewanted.

ChapterEightTherestoftheLittle

Season passed byquickly anduneventfully. Clare feltshe did a subtlebalancing act betweenavoidingGileswhenevershe decently could andat the same time, notmaking it noticeable,either to the gossips, orshe hoped, to him. It

had been worth theeffort, however, forJustinhadbeentrue tohis word and not onlyavoided strong drink,butwentoutofhiswaytoprovehe trustedher.In fact, one evening, heevencommentedthathewouldn’t like to thinkshe was slightingWhittononhisaccount,nor would he want anygossiptothateffect,and

hadn’tshebettersaveatleast one dance for himthisweek?

****They left for Devon

beforemostofthetoninordertoavoidtheworstof the early winterweather. Clare wasdelighted to be homeagain and threw herselfinto holidaypreparations with theenthusiasm of a child.

And,indeed,shefeltlikeone and intended tohave theChristmas shealways wanted. Whenshemissedhermonthlycourse in the beginningof December, shehugged her secret toherself, not wanting totellJustinuntilshewasabsolutelysureshewasincreasing. But what alovely secret to carryduring the Christmas

season.Invitations came to

the house as thick andfast as snowflakes. ItseemedtoClarethatalltheir neighbors, boththose that had gone upto London and thosewho had remained inDevon, were planningsomething in the twoweeksbeforeChristmas.They accepted most ofthem, but not all, for

Justinputhisfootdownwhen he saw theshadows under Clare’seyes after a particularlybusy few days. But theViscount Ware’s St.Lucy’sDayballwasonethat no one in theneighborhood wouldmiss. Ware Hall wasalways hung withdecorations early, andredolent of evergreens.The viscount and his

wife were excellenthosts,andthe foodwasalways better from oneyear to the next, or soeveryone alwaysexclaimed.

****Clare was surprised

and felt a moment ofconcern when shethought she caught awhiffofspiritsasJustinhanded her into theircarriage. She told

herself she was beingfoolish. If Justin hadhad a drink, surely hehad a right to celebratetheholidayswithatasteofbrandy.

“LadyRainsborough.It is delightful to haveyou with us your firstChristmas in Devon.”Theviscount,whowasaheartymanwithagreatbooming voice, lookedover at his wife. “Aren’t

we, my dear?” Hisviscountess, who wascomfortable with herhusband’s enthusiasticpersonality and lack ofself-consequence,merelytookClarebythehand and said: “Come,my dear, let meintroduce you around.You have met most oftheneighbors,butthereare a few you havemissed.”

One of those shehad missed was SirPercivalBlake,whohadbeeninCanadaandtheUnited States and hadonly returned inNovember. He was ahandsome gentleman,quite different fromJustin, with pale blondhair and equally paleblue eyes and aprominent nose, wholooked to be five years

olderthanherhusband.He obtained both acotillion and theprivilege of taking Clareinto supper, and shehad to admit that shefound herself lookingforward to supper, forshe had always wantedto travel and wasparticularly interestedinAmerica.

Sir Percival was asdelightful a supper

companion as she hadexpected, and had herlaughing and shiveringin turn at his stories,which went fromhumorous to dramaticin minutes. She wasenjoying herself somuch that she actuallyforgotJustin’spresence,whichwasthefirsttimethat had happenedsince they met. Whenthey finally left the

Wares’, Clare wasbubbling over in thecarriage: “Can youimagine,Justin,thecityof Boston was actuallyconstructedaroundcowpaths? And Sir Percivaltold me he spent manyweeks living with anativetribeandlearningtheirways.”

Justin was silentwhile Clare chattered,and it wasn’t until he

requested a footman tosee Lady Rainsboroughintothehouse,thatshesmelled the liquor onhisbreath.

“Goon,Clare,goin,”hewaved impatiently. “Iam just going to take aturnaroundthedrivetoclearmyhead.”

Itwasallrightthen,she thought. Well, whyshouldn’titbeallright?It was the holiday

season, her husbandwas in the mood tocelebrate with hisneighbors, and heintended to clear hisheadbyashortwalkonaclear,coldevening.

Shewasinhernightrail and wrapper withMartha brushing herhair out when Justincame to her room. Hetookthebrushfromthemaidanddismissedher,

saying, “I will finishgetting LadyRainsborough ready forbed, my girl.” Marthaglanced over and metClare’s eyes in themirror. “Yes.” Clarenodded. “You must betiredfromwaitingupforus.Gotobed,andIwillseeyouinthemorning.”

“Yes, my lady.”Marthahadsmelled theliquor on Lord

Rainsborough’s breathand wasn’t sure shewanted to leave hermistressalonewithhim,but she didn’t have achoice.Andhistonehadbeen calm enough. Hedidn’t seem overset. Asfarassheknew,hehadbeennothingbut gentleand lovingwithhiswifeafterthatfirstincident.

After Martha shutthe door behind her,

Justin began drawingthe brush throughClare’s curls, gently atfirst, which lulled herinto a state ofrelaxation, and thensuddenlyharder.

“Justin, that hurt,mydear.Ithinkmyhairhas been brushedenough anyway,” shesaid with a laugh, andreachedupherhand totakethebrush.

Rainsborough putthe brush in her hand,and closing his over it,twisted her wrist untilshe winced with pain.“There, there is yourbrush, my dear. Andthere you sit, admiringyourself in your glasslikethewhoreyouare.”

Claresatspeechless.It cameoutofnowhere,this attack, and all shecould do was look

aghastatherhusband’sface in the glass. Hiseyes were icy andopaque,hisfaceflushedwithdrink.

“Justin, I think youhave had too muchbrandy again,” she saidascalmlyasshecould.

“Don’t talk to meabout what I have orhaven’t been drinking.Whowouldn’tdrinkifhehad to watch his wife

fawningoverablowhardlikePercyBlake.”

Oh, God, it is thesame thing all overagain, thought Clare.Lynton, Giles, and nowSir Percival. “I wasn’tfawning, my dearest,”she replied sweetly andevenly, as though hewasn’t accusing her ofalmost-adultery. “It wasonly that Sir Percival isa good storyteller.Why,

I even told you one ofhis most amusing talesonthewayhome.”Clarewas sure if she wasquiet, if shedidn’t raisehervoice, ifshe inhaledand exhaled slowly,imperceptibly, if shedidn’t move, didn’tdisturb anythingfurther, Justin wouldsurelystop.

“You should know agood storyteller, my

dear, for you are one,too, so meek and mildand sweetly humoringyour drunkenhusband.”Rainsborough ran hishand up her back andthen her head, andgrasping a handful ofhair he suddenly stoodupanddraggedherwithhim.

Clare gave a lowwhimper.“Ithurts,does

it, my so treacherouswife?” Rainsboroughwrapped his hand evenmoretightlyandpullingher face back, beganslappingit,atfirstsoftlyandthenharder.

****Martha always

knocked twice in themorning, for LordRainsborough alwaysspent the night andsometimes sent her

away, saying his wifewasnotreadytogetupyet. She knewwhat thatmeant. Most likely thathewasupagainandather. Although she hadto admit, her mistressalways looked like acontented cat in themorning.

Today, however,therewas no answer atall.Shewasabouttogo

in,buthesitated.Iftheywererightinthemiddleof it, she wouldn’t wantto be the one whowalkedinonthem.Andso she sought out LordRainsborough’svalet.

“Is his lordship upyet,Price?”

“No,andnotlikelytobe for awhile,Martha,”saidthevalet,makingarepeatedtipplingmotion

withhishand.“Did he spend the

night in his own room,then?”

“Yes, although it isthe rare night that hedoesthat,Martha,”saidPricewithawink.

Marthahurriedbackto Lady Rainsborough’sroom.Sheknockedoncemore, but this timedidn’t wait for ananswer.

Her mistress laycurled up like a child,still asleep.Marthawassmiling as she watchedher until she saw thebowl of dirty water andbloodstained cloth. ShewasveryawareofwhenLady Rainsborough’smonthly course wasdue. She knew it wasthree weeks overdueand had been secretlyhappy for Clare.

Perhaps her mistresshadhadasuddenonsetlast night? She couldhave been increasingandlostthechildinthisearly stage. She leanedover Clare and shookher gently, worried thatClare’s deep sleep wasperhaps a sort of faintfromlossofblood.

Clare groaned atMartha’s touch andturned over to see who

was pulling her up outof oblivion. She couldonly see out of one eye,and it was hard to sayMartha’snamewithherswollenlip.

“My God, whathappened to your face,my lady?” Marthawhispered and thenanswering herself said:“Nevermind,Iknowjustwhat happened to yourface.Thatbastard.That

stinking bullyingbastard,”shemuttered.

“No, no, Martha,”Clareprotested.

“Don’tyoutrytotellme no more storiesabout doorjambs, LadyRainsborough. I didn’tbelievethefirstone,andI won’t believe it now.Come now, sit up andlet me see what he’sdone to your prettyface.”

Clare let herself besupported by Martha’sarm, while the maidgently probed her noseandeye.

“Your nose is notbroken, no thanks tohim. And the eye lookstobeallright.Whyeverdidn’t you call out forme,mylady?”

Because I had novoice, Martha, thoughtClare. Because I wasn’t

really there. Because itwas only a dream. No,aneternalnightmare.

“Oh, I know it isnone of my businessand what could I havedone anyway againsthim? Well, you arecertainlynotgettingoutofbed todayoranytimethis week.” Marthahesitated and thendecidedshehad toask.“Thebloodonthecloth,

my lady. That was onlyfrom your nose? Youdon’tneedanyclothsdoyou?”

Clare blushedcrimson andinstinctively put herhand on her belly. “No,Martha, if I am right, Iwillnotneedanyforthenext eight months. Idon’t think last nightwill have an effect, doyou?” she asked

anxiously.“Not if you stay in

bed and let yourselfsleep and heal. I willbringyousomeporridgeand tea, and get somewitch hazel from thestillroom.”

“Thankyou,Martha.CanyoutellMrs.Clarkethat I am not feelingwell. That I can’t helpher today with theholidaypreparations.”

“Ofcourse.”“And Martha? Can

you keep LordRainsborough away fora few hours? I don’twant to see him likethis.”

“IwilldowhatIcan,mylady.”

****But Lord

Rainsborough did nottry to see his wife thatmorning. He slept late

and then after a lightbreakfast in his room,called forhishorse androde away “as thoughdemonswereafterhim,”saidhisvalettoMartha.

“And I hope theyare,” she answered.“Well,atleasthewillbeawayfrommymistress.”

Clare stayed in herroom, eating very littleand dozing off for mostof theday.Sheslept so

much, she was afraidshe would be awake allnight, but sleep wasevidentlywhatherbodyand spirit needed, andshe slept through thenightwithnoproblem.

She awoke early thenextdayandgotherselfout of bed and over toher glass. Her facelooked even worsetoday, if that werepossible, as the bruises

begantoshow.Shewasstandingby

her window watchingthe early morning mistliftandblowawaywhensheheardthedooropenandshutbehindher.

“I am feeling muchbetter this morning,Martha,” sheannounced, but whensheturned,shesawherhusband standing bythe door and quickly

moved back behind thearmchair that sat infrontofherwindow.Hereyes were wide withfear, and her handsgripped the back of thechairconvulsively.

Justin stood theresilently, gazing at thedamagehehaddone.

“It is far worse thistime, isn’t it,Clare?”hesaid ina tone thatheldboth disbelief and

despair.Clarenodded.“I don’t know what

tosay?Whatistheretosay? I ... I don’t knowwhat happens to me,Clare. I think it isbecause I love you somuch. The drink bringsoutthedarksideofthatlove.”

Clare stood silent,still wide-eyed andfearful.

“I went for a longride yesterday, Clare. IknowwhatIhavetodo.I know I promised thisbefore, but this time, Imeanit.Iwillnottouchadropofwineorbrandyagain; I swear it onmylife. Iknowyouwillnotwantmenear you for awhile, but I hope youwill regainyour trust intime.Ihope...”Justin’svoice broke on the

words. “I only hope Ihaven’t killed your loveforme.”

The face was herbeloved Justin’s face.The eyes were his, nolonger the hard,shuttered eyes of aviolent stranger. Andthegrayeyeswerefulloftears,aswerehersallofasudden.Healingtears.

“I have loved youfromthefirsttimeIsaw

you, Justin, and I havenever stopped. I justdon’t know how toconvince you of it. Tomake you see that noother man could everreplaceyouinmyheart.Not Giles, certainly notLynton or Sir Percival,”added Clare with awaterysmile.

“I know that now,Clare,” said herhusbandfervently.“It is

the alcohol that takesover, and I become ... Idon’t even know who Ibecome...someonewhoisterrifiedthathemightlose the most preciousthingheowns.”

Justin took a stepcloser, and withoutthinking, Clare camefrom behind the chairand walked slowly overtohim.

“Imustbesurethat

youmeanit,Justin.Youswear that you will notdrinkagain?”

“I swear it on myimmortalsoul,Clare.”

She shuddered asshe stepped closer andhisarmsgentlyenfoldedher. “I hope so, Justin,for I am not onlythinkingofmyself. Iamalso thinking of thesafetyofourchild.”

Justinputhishandson her shoulders andstepped back. “Child,Clare? You areincreasing?”The lookofhappiness on his facewas everything she hadhopedfor.

“Iwasn’tgoingtotellyou until after the newyear. Until I was quitesure. But yes, althoughitisearlyyet,Iamquitecertain.”

“This is a newbeginning for us, Clare.Iwillletyourestnow...I will not ... bother youwith my presence atnight. Until you wantme.”

“Oh, Justin ... I willrest today. And I fear Iwon’t be fit for anypublic appearances allweek. But please don’tleavemealoneatnight,mydear.”

When Marthabrought her breakfastup,Clarewas seated inthe armchair by thewindow.

“Iseeyouarefeelingbetter thismorning,mylady.”

“Yes,Martha,much,muchbetter.”

Marthalookedatherinquiringly.

“No one must knowwhathappened,Martha.

In or out of thehousehold.”

“Iamsurenogossipwould ever escape mylips,mylady.”

“Let the servantsknowthatIbelieveIamincreasing and amsuffering from fatigueandmorningsickness.”

“Yes,mylady.”“AndMartha...Lord

Rainsborough will bejoining me here for

supperthisevening.”“I see, my lady.”

Martha’s tone wasnoncommittal,butClarewas sure that shedisapproved.

“It is only that hecannot dealwith strongspirits that thishappened, Martha. Hehas given me his wordthat this will neverhappenagain.”

“Of course not, my

lady.”“AndMartha?”“Yes,mylady?”“Thank you very

much for taking care ofme last night,” saidClare, reaching herhandsouttohermaid’sand clasping them. “Ivery much appreciateyour loyalty andaffection.”

“Thank you, mylady.” And you will

alwayshaveit,mypoor,innocent young lamb.Martha was only a fewyears older than Clare,but she felt almostancientinexperienceasshe left her mistresshappilydrinkingherteaand dreaming, nodoubt,ofherhusband’svisitthatnight.Hemustbe an expert at makinglove, this LordRainsborough, to make

awomansoeasilyforgetthe blows those samehandscoulddealout.

ChapterNine

February,1817“I see you are

dressed for Aston’sriding party, Sabrina.He seems to bebecoming more markedin his attentions. Areyou taking themseriously?” Giles’s tonewaslight,buttheintentbehindthequestionwas

serious.Sabrinasatdownat

the breakfast table andmotionedthefootmantomakeherupaplate.

“If youmean to askdoIintendtoencouragehim, why, no, Giles, Idon’t.”

“You have been outfor...”

“Fouryears.IknowIamalmostontheshelf,”shesaidhumorously.

“Hardly. But youhave never lacked foreligible suitors.Has notone touched yourheart?”

“Notone,Giles,”sheanswered with a ruefulsmile. It was the truth,as far as it went. Notoneofheradmirershadever made her heartskipabeat. Itwas onlyAndrew More who hadthat effect on her. And

he had certainly neverpresented himself asanything but an oldfriendofherbrother’s.

She had hoped thatAston,whowasnotonlyaveryeligiblesuitorbuta good-looking man,would have sparkedsomething in her. Butshe had to accept thefact that for now atleast, an attraction toanother man did not

seemtobeinthecards.“I have always

thought that you andAndrew would be wellmatched,” said herbrother thoughtfully,with that uncannyability that they sharedtopickupontheother’sthoughts. “But he is sosporadic in hisattendance during theSeason,”observedGiles,hisvoicetrailingoff.

“Andrew More hasnever given anyindication of a specialinterest inanywoman,”Sabrina replied lightly,and then changed thesubject. “Have Motherand Father gonethrough the mailalready?”

Gileslookeddownatthe small pile next tohim.“Why,yes,Ibelieveso.”

“Is there anythingthereforme?”

Giles put hisnewspaper downwith asigh and withexaggerated patience,sortedthroughthemail.“You are always sopatient, my dear sister.An invitation to theBlunts for Wednesdaynext. An invitation forme from Franklin to

spend a week inLincolnshire.”

“Willyougo?”“Perhaps.Ienjoyhis

company, and I wouldbe glad of a change ofscene.”

“But you wouldleave Lucy behind towaste away,would you,Giles?”teasedhissister.

“The day LucyKirkman wastes awayforlove...Shehasn’tlet

me alone for an instantsinceChristmas.”

“You haven’t lookedparticularlyboredinhercompany, though,Giles.”

“No,” he grinned. “Ihave to admit she isgoodcompany.Ipreferawomanwhoknowswhatshe wants and goesafter it to one of thosedocile misses inLondon.”

“Such humility,Giles.”

“Well, you were theonewarningmeagainsther, Sabrina! It is quiteclearthatshewantsme.I do not think it takesbeing too full of myselftoacknowledgethat!”

“And will she getwhatshewants,Giles?”

“She clearly thinksso,”heansweredwitha

maddening smile, andwent back to hisnewspaperafterpassingtherestofthemailovertohissister.

At least he couldjoke about it, Sabrinathought. Seeing Clareand Rainsboroughtogether during theLittle Season had beenhard for Giles, sheknew. But it had alsoput some distance

between him and hislost dreams. Sabrinacertainly hoped Lucywould not get what shewanted in the long run.But if her pursuitamusedherbrotherandkept him from dwellingonClare,thenGodblessthelittlehellcat!

“A letter fromClare!Oh, I am so glad. Ihaven’t heard from her

in weeks.” Sabrinaexclaimedaloudwithoutthinking and thenregretted it. But Gilesmerely looked over ather and smiled blandly,asking, “I hope she iswell?”

“She sounds happy...”Sabrinascannedthenote quickly. “As amatter of fact, she isincreasing.” She hatedto say it, but he would

findoutsoonerorlater.“Why, that is

wonderful. I am sureshe will make anexcellentmother.”

Sabrina knew herbrother well enough toknow that the newsmust have felt like adeathblow to anotheroneofhisdreamsaboutClare.But if the easiestwayforhimtodealwiththenewswasnotatall,

thenshewasn’tabouttoforcehim.

****Giles had thought

the wedding was theworst, until he camehome to Whittonwithout Clare. Then,seeing her in Londonwith Rainsborough. Butsurely this was it: theknowledgethatsheboreanother man’s child.Surely it should have

been over when hisdream died. He’dsuffered,aswasonly tobe expected, but eachtime he was quite surehe’d moved on,something would takehimby surprise andhewould realize that whathe thought was onedream was really manyinterconnected ones.Well, thank God, if shewas increasing, Clare

would not be availablefor much this Season.And maybe by spring,he would havediscoveredaninterestinLucy Kirkman that wasequaltohersforhim.

****“Do you know

whether Lord and LadyRainsborough are intown yet, Sabrina?”askedLucyoverteaandpastriesatGunther’s.

“Iamnotsure,”saidSabrina with a worriedfrown. “The knocker ison the door, but I havereceived no answer toeither of my notes.Perhaps Clare is notfeeling well. Althoughshe might have writtenafewlines...”Sabrina’svoicetrailedoff.

“Ah,yes,Iheardsheis increasing. I am veryhappy for her,” said

Lucy, licking a bit ofcream from one of herpastries.

“For Clare, Lucy?”asked Sabrina with awrysmile.

“Of course. Butmostlyforme.Gilescanhardly spend his timedaydreaming about awoman whose waist isexpanding and anklesareswelling!”

Sabrina laughed.

“Oh, Lucy, you areoutrageous.”

“I know you wouldnot be thrilled with meas a sister-in-law,Sabrina.You think thatGiles deserves someonesweet and loving likeClare. But she treatedhim worse than I everwould,youmustadmit.I am just honest aboutwhatIwant.”

“I find myself

admiring that in you,Lucy, much to mysurprise! But I believeGiles needs someonedifferent.”Someonewholoves him, thoughtSabrina, not just wantshim,as thoughhewereaprizetobewon.

“I promise you,Sabrina, Giles does notneed someone likeClare. Oh, she brings

out the knight on thewhitechargerinhim.Aswould Lady Helena orthe Honorable SusanMaxwell,whosemothersarealwayspushingtheirdaughters at him, Imight add. I, who ammotherless,mustdomyown pushing,” sheaddedhumorously.

Perhaps if yourmother had not diedwhen you were three,

you would have hadsomeone to check yourdetermination to getyour own way, thoughtSabrina. And you areright, Giles does notneed a girl like LadyHelena. But neitherdoes he need a womanlike you. He needssomeone a little softerand more loving thanyou and stronger thanClare.Sabrinasurprised

herself by that lastthought, which felt likedisloyalty to an old anddear friend.But ifClarehadn’treallylovedGiles,then her brother wasindeedbetteroffwithouther.

That evening wasone of the first crushesoftheSeason.GiventhefactthattheDuchessofWinston liked to haveeveryinchoffloorspace

taken up with eitherpeople or exotic plants,neither Giles norSabrina would haveexpected to see Lordand Lady Rainsboroughimmediately. They wereattempting to maketheir way through thecrowd when they heardthe Rainsboroughsbeing announcedbehind them. Sabrinafelt Giles stiffen, and

she automatically putherhandonhisarm insympathy.

When they reachedtheir destination, acluster of friends andacquaintances, Sabrinaallowedherselftosearchthrough the crowd,looking for Justin, whowastallenoughtostandout even in this crush.But when she foundhim, with Clare by his

side, she audibly drewin her breath, for Clarewas as slim as ever. Infact, Clare, who hadsometimesbeenreferredto as a Pocket Venus,was almostunattractivelythin.

“She must havebeen ill, Giles,” Sabrinasaidwithoutthinking.

Her brother lookeddownatherinsurprise.“What are you talking

about,Brina?”As the conversation

continued to flowaroundthem,shepulledhim closer to her sideand gestured to whereRainsboroughandClarewere standing. “Claretold me she wasincreasing, Giles. Shemust have lost thebaby,” Sabrinawhispered.

Gilesblanched.“She

looksawful.”“Yes. Take me over

toher,willyouGiles?”“Of course.” Giles

made their excusesandleadingtheway,cleareda path in front of themwhile holding onto hissister’s arm.When theyreached theRainsboroughs, Sabrinapushedpastherbrotherto greet Clare with ahug. Clare felt brittle

andunresponsiveinherarms, and Sabrinareleasedherquickly.

JustinRainsboroughgreeted them politelyenough, but bothbrotherandsistercouldtellthathewishedthemback on the other sideoftheroom.

Giles keptRainsboroughbusywithquestions about hisestate while Sabrina

movedClareovertooneofthenearbypillars.

“Iamsosurprisedtosee you looking so, mydear,” she said withoutpreamble.

Clare looked at herblankly and thenblushed.“Oh.Thebaby.I lost it shortly after Iwrote to you,Sabrina. Ishould have told you, Iknow.ButIamstillverytired. Not quite

recovered,Iguess.”“You are so thin,

Clare.”Clare looked down

as though to see forherself. “Why,yes, Ididlose weight. But I ambeginning to gain itback.” She tuggednervously at the sleevesof her dress, as thoughshe wanted to be surethey covered her thinarms.

“May I call on youtomorrow,Clare?”

Clare hesitated, andher eyes darted over towhereherhusbandwastalking to Giles. “Why,yes, of course, Sabrina.I will be at home tovisitorsafterone.”

Sabrinachattedwithher for a few minutesand then returned herto her husband. Shepulled at her brother’s

arm. “Come, Giles, Ithink the first country-danceisours, ifwecanmake our way over tothe dance floor! Theduchess has outdoneherself this year, don’tyou think, LordRainsborough?”Sabrinasmiled brightly up athim, almost daring himtorespond.

“Yes, indeed,” heanswered, putting his

arm protectively aroundhiswife.“Infact,itissocrowded, I think I willget Clare home earlytonight.

He was true to hisword, for when Sabrinalooked for her friendlater, she was alreadygone.

Sabrina made herpromised visit the nextday, only to find Clareentertaining twowomen

who were mereacquaintances. Therewas no time for anyintimate conversation,and she left early, butnot before she madeClare promise to comefor a ride in the parkwith her later in theweek.

Their ride, however,was hardly moresatisfactory, for Clarewassubduedandnotat

all forthcoming abouther life inDevon or theloss of the baby.Sabrinadidnotwant topry, and so they had,what was for her, adisappointing timetogether. When nothingimproved over the nextfew weeks, she decidedto consult with herbrother.

She interrupted himone rainy morning in

thelibrary.“Giles, I am very

worriedaboutClare.”Gileslookedupfrom

his book. “Why is that,Sabrina? When I sawher at a musicale lastweek, she had morecolor and seemed tohaveputbacka littleoftheweight she lost,” herepliednoncommittally.

Sabrinahesitated. “Iknow it may still be

painful for you to talkabout her, Giles, so Iwas reluctant even tobring this up, but it isnot just the physical Iam concerned about.She doesn’t seem quiteherself.”

Gilesclosedhisbookandtookadeepbreath.Sabrina was right. Hedidn’t want to thinkabout Clare. It wasmuch easier that way.

He sat quietly for a fewmoments, listening tothe steady fall of therainoutsidethewindow.Ifhe openedhimselfupto Clare again, it wouldbe painful. But howcould he ignore her ifshe was really introuble?

“Tell me about it,Sabrina,” he saidquietly.

“It is hard to

describe. It feels to methat she isnot really ...presentattimes.”

Gileslookedupwithconcern in his eyes.“Women can sometimesbe so affected afterchildbirth,Iunderstand.Perhaps a miscarriagewould also leave itsmark?”

“Oh, no, Giles. Idon’t think Clare isseriously melancholy in

the way you mean. IrememberMrs.Craneinthe village and hermelancholia after hersecond child. It isnothing like that. It ismore that Clare seemsonlytobegoingthroughthe motions of beingpolite and dancing andmaking calls. She doesnot feel available to mein the same way. Well,perhaps that isall it is:

the fading away of aclose friendship. Afterall,herhusbandshouldcome first, shouldn’the?”

“And how do theyseem together?” Gileshad tried to avoid themasmuchaspossiblethisSeason.

“Oh,notasmuchineach other’s pockets asthey were before, Giles.Atleastallthatdreadful

wagering has stopped,”sheaddedwithasmile.“But they appear veryhappytogether.”

“Perhaps it isas yousay, then, Sabrina.Clarehasgrownbeyondheroldfriends.Shehasher own husband, herownlifeinDevon.”

“Iknow,Iknow.Butitstillbothersme.”

“I have been ... not

avoiding her precisely,but only asking her foran occasional dance.Maybe I should try toact more the old friendthan a disappointedlover, and see if I canofferhersomecomfortifsheneedsit.”

****Sabrina was right.

Clare was not herself.The trouble was shewasn’t quite sure who

that self was. ClareDysarthadcertainlynotbeen a vibrant, self-assured young womanlike Sabrina. But ClareRainsborough, in theearly days at least, hadfelt cherishedand lovedand alive, finally notanyone’s afterthought.She had discoveredpassion; she hadlearned what it was tobe an elemental part of

someone else’shappiness. She hadexperienced Justin as asensitive and expertlover. He hadmade herbelieve ... no, notmadeher believe, she hadexperienced herself asthe center of hisexistence. Until thatfirst blow. Which ofcourse had been anaberration. Until thenext one. But it was so

clear that brandybrought out hisinsecurity and distortedhis personality, andwhen he was notdrinking, he was herlovinghusbandagain.

But she wasbeginning to feel thatshewaslivinginalmostparallel lives. Whichwas, of course, notpossible. Surely therewas only one: either

one’s husband wasgenerous, kind, tender,and passionate (whichwasher lifemostof thetime). Or he was ajealous, bullyingtormentor. Which washerlifeforsuchasmallportion of the time thatshe surely must beimagining it. Orsomehowcausingit.

What was her

marriage? A blissfullyhappy one, for monthsat a time?Or the livinghell that occurredoccasionally and foronlyadayortwo?Claresometimes thought itwould have been easierto have Justin beat herregularly. To know thathe despised her. To besurethathewasabrutewith no redeemingqualities. Then she

could have hated himback. Or maybe evenleft. But how could shehate him when he soclearly did love her? Sodesperately needed her.Was so sorry after thebrandygot thebetterofhim. Gave her morepleasure in their love-making than she hadeverthoughtpossible.

There was no one

she could talk to aboutit. Her parents wouldnever understand, and,in fact, hadwanted herto marry Giles. Shemissed her intimateconversations withSabrina, but how couldshetellheranything?Itwastooshamefultotalkabout. And how couldSabrina understandwhat a good husbandJustin was most of the

time. A piece of herheart longed for Giles.He had understood herandprotectedherwhenLucy Kirkman hadbulliedher.Butitwouldbeevenmoreimpossibletotalktohim.

Perhaps it was allover anyway. They hadbeeninLondonalmostamonth, and Justin hadnot touchedanyspirits.They both were

recovering fromthe lossof the baby. Justin hadbeen slow to return toher bed, but Clare hadfinally convinced himthatshewasready,andso the last few weekshad felt almost like asecond honeymoon. Sosurely she was thehappily married LadyRainsboroughafterall.

****Gileswastednotime

in seeking Clare’scompany.TheeveningofLady Petersham’s routhemade sure to securea supper dance withher. Rainsborough wasverypoliteaboutit—butthen Rainsborough wasalwayscoollypolitewithhim.

He watched herclosely as the patternsof the dance broughtthem together. She had

morecolorthanshehadat the beginning of theSeason,andsheseemedfairlyrelaxedwithhim.

When itwas time togo in for supper, hemade sure to chooseseatsontheedgeofthecrowdso theyhadabitofprivacy.

“I have not had achancetoreallyexpressmy sympathy, Clare,”said Giles. “I imagine it

takes awhile to recoverfromsuchaloss.”

Clare felt tearsspring to her eyes. Shefeltshewasbackinthepresence of her oldfriend, and all theconstraints of the lastyearweregone.

“Thankyou,Giles.Ithas been difficult. ButJustin has been verysupportive,”sheadded.

“I am sure. Sabrina

hasbeenratherworriedabout you, though,” headded, trying to keephistonelight.

“Oh, she need not,Giles. I know I havebeen a little distracted,but I had hoped to bespending the springwith my feet up on ahassock rather thandoing the full roundagain. It is taking meawhile to shift my

expectations.”“I hope that your

loss does not mean ...that is, I trust you willbeableto...”

It was the first timeClare had ever seenGilesillatease,andshewastouchedandevenalittle amused. “If youmean will I be able tohave other children,Giles,theanswerisyes.The doctor assured me

there were no lastingeffects.”

Giles saw a fleetinglook of deep sadness inher eyes, even as shesaid what should havebeen good news, andwondered at it. It wasgone so quickly,however, that he couldalmostbelievehehadn’tseenit.

“I did not mean topry, Clare. I think

Sabrina and I justwished to make surethat our old friend washappy,” Giles said,reaching out andholding her handaffectionately.

It was so lovely toknow who she was forthat moment: the Clarewhom Giles loved as afriend, the Clare Gileshad always taken careof, that all the distress

of the past few monthshad disappeared. Claresmiled up at Giles justat the moment Justinpulled up two chairsnear them for himselfandhissupperpartner.

Giles felt Clarestiffen and immediatelylet go of her hand andbegan chatting aboutinconsequential things,making sure to includeRainsborough and his

companion in theconversation.Rainsborough smiledand responded, but asusual, his smile didn’treachhiseyes.Oh,well,thought Giles, therewould always be thistensionbetweenthem.Itwasonlynatural.Andatleast he had satisfiedhimself about Clare’sstate of mind. For thefirst time inmonths,he

began to think that itwould be possible to bewith Clare in that old,relaxed way offriendship.

****Thenextmorningat

breakfast, he reassuredSabrina and told herthat he thought Clarewasmerelyworkingherway throughhersorrowat the loss of the baby.“She said she was

findingithardtoadjustto a full Season whenshehadnotexpectedtoparticipatemuchatall.”

“I am glad that youspoke with her, Giles. Iam supposed to visitthis afternoon, andperhaps now that I amless worried, our visitwillbemorerelaxed.”

But Sabrina wasturned away that

afternoon and for thenext week, as were allothers. “LadyRainsboroughhas comedown with a very badcold,” thebutler toldallher callers, “and wouldreceive visitors whensherecovered.”

Sabrina madeherselfremaincalmanddid not even begin tolook for Clare in theevenings until a week

had passed. But it wasfully ten days beforeLady Rains-boroughattendedanythingintheevening, and when sheand her husband wereannounced at theFraser’smusicale,itwasnoted that she lookedalmost as pale as shehad in the beginning oftheSeason.Allagreeditwas a shame that sheshould have recovered

from amiscarriage onlyto succumb to anotherillness.

Rainsboroughhovered protectively,and for her first fewnights back, turnedaway any and allrequests fordancesandmade sure she washome early. “It iswonderful, isn’t it, thatevenafteralmostayear,he is such a loving

husband,” said morethan one matron toanother. “Yes, she is averyluckywoman.”

Any of the timeSabrina managed tospend with Clare wasshortandunsatisfactorydue to her husband’shovering. But she wastorn between feelinghappy that he was sogood to his wife andexperiencing his

protectiveness as avigilantcontrol.

It wasn’t until thethird day Clare wasback in circulation thatGiles had theopportunity to obtain awaltz.Asheclaspedhishand around her waistand they moved off tothe music, Clare keptherself distant, headand eyes down. After afew measures, Giles

shiftedhis hand to pullher ina littlebitcloser,and although sheresponded tohissignal,she did not relax for amoment of their dance.And when they weremaking one last whirlaroundthefloorandhishand tightened underher ribs for an instant,he felt her wince andheard a little gasp ofpainescapeherlips.

“Are you all right,Clare?” he askedanxiously.“Doyouwantmetotakeyououtforabreathofair?”

“No, no,” sheprotested immediately.“Iamfine,Giles,reallyIam. I, um, pulled amuscle the other daywhenIwasreachinguptogetabookdownfromahighshelf.Veryfoolishofme.”

She felt as tense tohim as an overstrunglute string, ready tobreak at the slightesttwist. Something waswrong, but he couldn’timagine what. And hecertainly couldn’t askagain.Hewasnotgoingtopushanythingonherin this state, not evenhisfriendship.

“Claredoesnotseemfully recovered fromher

illness, Rainsborough. Ihope she hasn’t comebacktoosoon.”

Giles was intriguedby the expression onRainsborough’s face. Atfirst he looked worriedand responsible, as anyhusbandmight.Then,itseemed for an instant—but only that—anexpression of pain andguiltflittedoverhisface.Yetimmediatelyhiseyes

hardened and he said,with an edge in hisvoice, although it wascalmandpoliteenough:

“Thankyou for yourconcern, Whitton. Irealize you are an oldfriend and have Clare’sbest interest at heart,but I am her husbandand therefore knowwhatisbestforher.”

Giles bowed to bothof them and moved off,

feeling both furious atsuch an obviousdismissal, andconcerned. But theman, much as Gilescouldn’t like him, wasright. He was Clare’shusband, and whetherGiles liked him or not,certainlyseemedtohaveClare’s best interest atheart.

ChapterTen

February,1818“Are you and Lucy

joiningusatthetheatretonight,Giles?”

Her brother, whohad just takenabiteoftoast and was washingit down with his coffee,mumbled and noddedhishead.

“Was that a yes,

dear?” his sister askedwith exaggeratedsweetness, in exactlythe same tone theirmother would haveused, were she withthem in London, ratherthanwiththeirfatherinParis, on what theyconsidered a “secondhoneymoon.”

Giles swallowed.“Yes, it was a yes,Sabrina.Doyoumindif

wedo?”“Of course not. In

fact, I have becomequiteresignedtoyour...friendshipwithLucy.”

Herbrothergrinned.“My ... friendship? Areyou trying to oh sosubtly ask something,Brina?”

“Are you going tomake her an offer,Giles?”

“The wagers arethree to one in favor,Sabrina. What do youthink?”

“Ithinkthatyouarebeing most annoying,Giles. Surely your twinsister should be keptinformed of the state ofyourheart.”

“I have given veryserious thought to it.LucyandIhavespentagreat deal of time

together,andsheisverygoodcompany. Ineedawife, and the Kirkmanlandrunswithours.”

“You have spent agreat deal of timetogether because Lucymakessurethatyoudo,Giles.”

“Sabrina, I'm notobtuse. Of course Iknow Lucy sought meout.Butperhapsthatiswhat I need: a woman

whowantsme.”“But do you love

her?”“I have a great deal

of affection for Lucy.And we know eachother’s foibles very wellby now. I think wewould get along quitecomfortably.”

“Well,then?”“I haven’t quite

made upmymind. Butif I were going towager

...?”“Yes?”“Odds on, Sabrina,”

he said, pushing awayfromthetable.“Willyoujoin me for a ride thisafternoon?”

“Ofcourse.”“Then I will see you

later. I am off to theHomeOffice.”

“Another diplomaticbungle to straightenout?”

“It seems that I amthe only one they canfind who can translatePersian and interpret areport’s deepermeaning.”

After her brotherleft, Sabrina sat staringinto space. LucyKirkman as a sister-in-law. She had seen itcoming, certainly, soshe was almostprepared. But not

entirely. She so wantedGiles to have love. Hedeserved it after losingClare.Lucywantedhim,Lucy liked him. Lucyeven had affection forhim.ButLucy,asfarasSabrina could see, wasincapable of any deeperfeelings.

Ofcourse,hewasn’tthe only one who hadlost Clare, she thought.BeforeClarehadarrived

in London for theSeason last spring,there had been talk ofSabrina coming for asummer visit. Butduring the Season, thevisit had never evenbeen mentioned, andSabrinahadreceivednoanswer to the twoshortnotes she had sentClareinAugust.

Lord and LadyRainsboroughhadcome

upfortheLittleSeason,but their attendance atsocial events had beensporadic. Sabrina hadhad one or two veryshortandunsatisfactoryvisitswithClare. Itwasas though her friendhad retreated behindsome wall. Yet she andRainsborough seemedas close as ever andevenleftforDevonearly,wellbeforetheholidays,

and without even agood-bye to her oldfriend.

Although Sabrinahad very much wantedher brother’s comfortand counsel, she hadavoided talking aboutClare. Giles seemed tobe over her, at leastfrom all outwardappearance, andSabrinadidnotwant toreopen the old wound.

As to whether thewound had ever trulyhealed, she was notsure.Shesuspectednot,for if it had, she wassure her brother wouldhave been looking forlove again, and notsettling for LucyKirkman.

****Lucywouldcertainly

makeanattractivewife,if nothing else, thought

Sabrina that night,whenGilesandSabrinaarrived at the theatre.She was dressed inprimrose muslin, whichwas a wonderful colorfor someone with herdark brown hair. Hereyeswerefulloflifeandenjoyment. I have togive her that, thoughtSabrina.Shehasenergyenough for the two ofthem. When she is

gettingwhatshewants!“Oh, look, there are

the Rainsboroughs,”said Lucy. “I wonderedwhether they wouldcome up for the wholeSeason. Or whetherLady Rainsborough wasincreasingyet.Heisthemost handsome manand so devoted, don’tyouthink,Sabrina?”

Sabrina lookedacross to the

Rainsborough box.Justin’s tan had neverfaded completely, andhisblackhair anddarkskin and cool gray eyeswere still a powerfulcombination, even afterall this time. Shewatched as he turnedsolicitously to Clare,pullingoutherchairforher and getting hersettled. Sabrina leanedforwardandwaved.She

thoughtshesawaslightfrown creaseRainsborough’s brow,but it was gone by thetime he alerted Clare,and they both gavediscreet waves over totheWhittonbox.

“She looks as paleandthinasshedidlastspring after losing thebaby. Do you think ithas happened again,Sabrina?” remarked

Lucy, who had noqualms about speakingwhatwasonhermind.

Sabrina answeredcasually: “I don’t know,Lucy. I haven’t heardfrom Clare for an age.”Sabrinawasverygladtoseethecurtaingoingupand the pantomimebegin.

Clare stayed in theRainsborough boxduring the interval, but

Sabrina sawRainsborough in thelobby procuring a glassofpunch.DraggingLucywith her, sheapproachedhim.

“Ah, good evening,Lady Sabrina, howlovely it is to see youhere,” he said with asmile that held no realpleasure.

“Good evening. MayI come back with you

andsayhellotoClare?”“Ofcourse.”Sabrina dismissed

Lucy, saying she wouldbe safe in LordRainsborough’scompany and that shewould return shortly,and then followed himback to his box,chattingabouttheplay.

“Here is Sabrina tosee you, my dear,”Rainsborough

announced.Clare, who had

seemingly not movedsince the curtain camedown, started andturned around. Sheblushed slightly whenshe saw Sabrina andgave her a hesitantsmile.

Clare was as thinand as lacking in coloras she had been at thebeginningoflastspring.

And there wassomething about theway she held herselfthat worried Sabrina.There was both atensionandafragilityinher bearing that madeSabrina feel that if sheshould but touch her,Clare would shatter. Soshe did not give her awarm hug of welcome,but merely took herhand and squeezed it

affectionately.“I hope your

holidays were as festiveas ours, Clare. Did youhave much snow inDevon?”

“Wehadsomesnow,Lady Sabrina, but weare so near the coast,you know, that itmeltsalmostimmediately.”

Sabrina wanted tosay rudely: “I didn’taskyou,Rainsborough.”

Insteadshesmileddownat her friend and said:“Will you be hometomorrow? I would loveto catch up on the lastfewmonths,Clare.”

Clare’s eyesautomatically glancedover at her husband,and Rainsboroughsmoothly answeredSabrinaforher.

“We have only justarrived, Lady Sabrina.

Perhaps you could giveus a few days to getsettledbeforeyoucall?”

“Of course. Well, Ihadbestgetbacktomyseat,Clare.It isgoodtoseeyouboth.”

She was looking tohimforpermission, fumedSabrina, as she walkedback to their box.Permission to see heroldestfriend!Well,Iwill

make sure I call thebeginning of next weekwhether LordRainsborough approvesor not. Being solicitousabout his wife’s healthisonething;keepingherfriends away from herwasquiteanother.

****Four days later,

Clare watched herhusband going throughtheir cards and

invitations. She hadalmost become resignedtothefactthathemadeall the decisions abouttheir social life, even tothe extent of telling herwhomtoseeandwhomto turn away onafternoon calls. Shecaughtherbreathwhenhe lifted up a piece ofvellum with Sabrina’shandwritingonit.

“Sabrina Whitton

will never give up, willshe,” saidRainsborough.“Ishouldthink it would havebeen obvious to her bynow that you do notwish to continue anintimate friendshipwitheither her or herbrother.”

“I won’t see her ifyou don’t want me to,Justin,” said Clare,trying to keep her voice

free of anything thatmay have beenconstrued as desire toseeheroldfriend.

“I appreciate yourwillingness to go alongwithmy wishes, Clare,”said her husband,smiling his approval.“Butyouhadbetter seeher. If you completelyignore theWhittons, nodoubt the gossips willseizeuponit.”

“Allright,Justin.”“What were your

plans for the day,Clare?”

“Ineedanewpairofgloves,Justin.IthoughtI would go to thePantheonBazaaranddoa little shopping thismorning.IwilltakeLizawith me, of course. Ifthat is all right withyou,”sheaddedtimidly.

“Ofcourse,mydear.

Andjustmakesurethisafternoon, when LadySabrina calls, you seeheronherwayquickly.”

Clare lowered hereyes to hide herdisappointment andnodded.AfterallClare’sneglect of theirfriendship, Sabrinawould hardly expect along, cozy afternoon.But,ohhowshemissedheroldfriend’scompany

andcounsel.“Do we have plans

for this evening,Justin?”

Rainsboroughfanned out theinvitations. “I think theWinstons’ ball, don’tyou?”

Clare nodded. “Ofcourse,mydear.”

“Wear your newgownforme,Clare.”

“I will, Justin.” It

wasa lovely gown,withan underslip of ivoryand the palest graygauze overslip lightlysprinkled with tinyrhinestones. Clare hadfelt she was dressed ingossamer thread spunbyfaerieswhenshehadtried it on. “Are youriding this morning,Justin?”

“No, I am merelydressed in my

buckskinsforshow,”heanswered sarcastically.“I will see you later,Clare.”

“Yes, Justin.” Shehad never gotten usedto the sarcasm that heemployed more andmore with her. But shetried to dismiss it fromher mind, and gettingup from the breakfasttable,summonedLiza.

Every time she saw

her abigail’s bland faceshe felt a surge ofloneliness. Liza hadbeenwithherforayearnow, but she stillmissed Martha. Marthahad cared about her.Martha had defendedClare, better thanClaredefended herself. Ofcourse, Justin couldn’ttolerate her and haddismissedher, choosingthe new maid himself.

But Clare never felt soaloneaswhenLizawaswithher.

****She saw several

womenthatsheknewatthe bazaar, and smiledandnoddedandchattedaway about the price ofsilk scarves. She knew,as she walked awayfrom them that theywere gossiping abouther appearance. Had

she been increasingagain and lost anotherbaby? Was she capableof giving Rainsboroughan heir? No, she couldhavetoldthem,shehadnotbeenwithchild thiswinter, for which shewasprofoundlygrateful.Not that she could evershare her relief withanyone. And not thatanyone really cared why

shelookedunwell.She was alone and

friendless in a bed ofher own making, andshe must lie in it untilshe died. At times overthis past year, she hadactually prayed fordeath, but most of thetime, she just hopedtherewouldbenomorebeatings, that this time,Justin would keep hispromisesnever todrink

again, never to touchheragainexceptinlove.Oratleast,thathisnextbeating would not beany harder than thelast.

****“How was your visit

with Clare thisafternoon?” Giles askedas he helped his sisteron with her cloak.Sabrina looked up insurprise. She had not

mentioned her decisionto visit Clare, as far assherecalled.

“No need to looksurprised, Brina. I waslooking for you thisafternoonandafootmantold me where you hadgone.Youdon’tneed tobe so protective,althoughIappreciate it.I have long beenresigned to thesituation.”

“I know, Giles. Butthere doesn’t seemmuch point in talkingabout my worry whenneither of us can doanythingaboutit.”

Gileswassilentuntilthey reached thecarriageandthenaskedquietly: “And whatworriesyou,Sabrina?”

“It is not just thatClarelooksunwell.Ifeelthat there is an inner

fragility that goesbeyond any of her olddiffidence. She initiallyseemed ...” Sabrinahesitated.

“Yes?Goahead,sayit,Sabrina.”

“So happy in hermarriage. But now ...well, Rainsborough isalways hovering overherandcertainlyseemsaffectionateenough...”

“Has she said

anything to lead you tobelieve their marriagehaschanged?”

“Nothing. She didn’tsay much at all. Wechatted about this andthat. Anytime Iapproached anythingpersonal,Icouldalmostseeawalldropbetweenus.Andyet,atthesametime,Ihavethisstrangefeeling thatourClare istrapped behind that

wall, waiting to ask forhelp.Buthelp forwhat,Idon’tknow.”

“If she doesn’t ask,wecertainlycan’tgiveittoher.Andneitherofushastherighttointerferewith what is, ultimatelya private affair,” saidGiles with such finalitythat Sabrina wonderedif she had been wrongall along. Maybe Gileswas completely heart-

free where Clare wasconcerned.

****However he had

sounded to Sabrina,Giles was unable toignore what she hadtold him. He watchedClare carefully thatevening, asunobtrusively aspossible. She dancedwith her husbandseveral times, and

throughout the nightthey rarely had theireyes off each other, orso it seemed. But hecould not make up hismind whether Clare’sglances over toRainsborough werelovingorsomethingelse... something closer towatchfulnessorfear.

Giles did not askClare to dance, but henoticed that the young

Earl of Bewley washovering around herand danced with hertwice. Bewley was anamusing fellow, andGiles felt a pang whenhe saw Clare laughingupathimonceortwiceduring their waltz. Itwasthehappiesthehadseen her look in a longtime. Shortly thereafter,however,henoticedthatClare was gone and

Rainsborough also. Hewas relieved to see thather husband wasmaking sure she didn’texhaustherself.HeandSabrina were likelyworried for nothing.Even the oldest andclosestof friendsdriftedaway from one another.Hejustneededtoacceptthat thatwaswhatwashappeningwithClare.

****

Claresatverystillasthe carriage carriedthemhome.ItwasneveragoodsignwhenJustingave their excuses totheir hostess and tookherhomeearly.Shewastrying to review theevening: she had beenwith Justin for most ofit, howeverunfashionable thatappeared. She had notspoken with Sabrina

and had barelyacknowledged Gileswhen he bowed to her.She had not dancedwith Giles the past fewnights, nor had heasked her. She hadallowedyoungBewleytogetheraglassofpunchafter their seconddance. Could that havebeen it? But surelyBewley would not

threatenJustin?Hewasthree years youngerthanshewas,afterall.

When they gothome, Justin handedher down withexaggerated politenessand told her he wouldbeupsoon.Shestartedupthestairsslowlyandwatched him go downthe hall to the library.He had had Madeira todrink at supper and

several glasses ofchampagne at the ball.And therewasalwaysadecanter of brandy inthe library. When hewent there beforecomingupstairs...

Liza helped her outofhergownandintohernightrail.

“Do youwantme tobrush your hair, mylady?”

“Please, Liza.” Clare

said yes not becauseshe liked the abigail’scompany or the briskway she brushed hermistress’s hair. Shewanted to keep Lizathere as long aspossible. Sometimes itmadeadifference if herabigail was with herwhen Justin first cameup.

Justin opened herdoor just as Liza was

finishing.“You can go, Liza,”

he said.Hewas talkingslowly,soasnottoslurhis words, and Claretrembled as he closedthe door and came upbehind her. He put ahand on each of hershoulders and dug intoher flesh with hisfingers.

“Who are youthinking of tonight,

Clare?Whittonseemstohave been avoidingyou.”

“Iamnotthinkingofanyone, Justin,” saidClare.Itwashopelesstothink she could getthroughtohim,butshealways quietly deniedhischarges.

“Perhaps it is theyoung Earl of Bewley?He is a very handsomeyoungman,ifyougofor

that sort of pretty face,isn’the,Clare?”

If she said “no,” hewouldcallheraliar.Soshe said: “Yes, Justin,heisverygood-looking.”

“And you enjoyedyour waltz with him, Icouldtell.”

His hands hadmovedsothattheywereresting on her throat,and as she swallowed,she could feel them

tightening.“It was a waltz like

any other, Justin,” shewhispered. She waslooking down at herdressing table, staringat her brush and comband hand mirror. Shenoticed a few grains ofpowderthathadspilled,and thought,inconsequentially, thatshewouldhavetomakesurethatLizacleanedit

up. She could not lifthereyesandlookinthepier glass. If she did,she would meet thehard, bloodshot eyes ofher husband. She sawthe face of the lovingJustin less and lessthese days. This pastyear it was not monthsthatwent by, orweeks,but days before histransformation into theman who despised her

and took pleasure inhurting her. He had tobe too drunk to domuch tonight, please,pleaseGod.

Ofcourse,shedidn’treally believe in Godanymore. How couldshe? She had promisedbefore Him to love,honor, and obey herhusband. Under thelaws of God and man,shewashelpless.Once,

last summer, she hadtried to talk with theirvicar. She had thoughtthatmaybe if he talkedtoJustin, itmighthelp.But as soon as herealized what she wastellinghim,heonlysaidin his Sunday-sermonvoice that her husbandknew far better whatwas best for theirmarriage than anoutsider, all the while

looking at her withdistaste, as though shehad dropped asquashed, but stillwriggling snake on hisdesk.

Butithelpedtocalmher fear to say, “PleaseGod, please God,” eventhough she nowexpected no answer. Ifhis representative onearthwouldn’thelpher,was disgusted by her,

then why should Godhelp?

“You smiled up athimthewayyouusedtosmile atme, Clare. Youareleadinghimon,justlike you led me on. Hethinks you love him,justlikeIdid.”

It did no good toprotest or to get angry.Tocry.Itonlymadehimworse.Soshe just said,

in the even, calm voiceshehadworkedsohardtomaster:“No,Justin.Ihave only loved you. Istill only love you.”Although she was notsure thatwas still true.But she would make ittrue, by constantrepetition, or else whatdid hermarriage or herlifemean?

She felt his handstightenagain,andthere

was pressure againstherwindpipe.

“Icouldkillyouveryeasily, right here, rightnow, Clare. And unlikeOthello,Iwouldhavealltherightintheworldonmy side if I choked thelife out of myDesdemona.”

He had begunthreatening her life inthe last six months. Atfirstshehadthoughthe

wasonlypushedby thebrandy and his insanejealousy into makinginsanethreats.Butafterhe had choked her intounconsciousness twice,she began to fear notonly for her sanity, butherlife.

She couldn’t sayanything now, becausehishandswerepressingso hard against herthroat that her vision

was beginning to cloud.Then the pressurereleased. She was alive.He had not choked herto death tonight. Shewouldnotbe able to goout for a few nightsbecause of her face. Hewould calm down. Hewould come in andapologize tomorrow orthe next day and shewould have a little timetofeelsafe.

****It took Justin three

days this time. Clarehad kept to her room,with Liza helping herclimb stiffly into herbath and bringing hermealsuponatray.Themaid’s face remainedpassive andexpressionless on theseoccasions, and shenever commented onClare’s bruises. She

never expressed anysympathy or anger, theway Martha had. Andwhenever she sawJustin, she greeted himas if he were exactlywhat everyone elsethought him: anattentivehusband.Afterwatching her abigailduring the first monthsof her employment,Clare had decided thatJustin, who had

dismissed Martha, wasmost likely paying Lizaverywell to ignorewhatwasgoingon.

When her husbandfinally knocked on herdoor, Clare was sittingup in bed working onher embroidery. Shewasn’t very good atneedlework, but foundthe concentration itdemanded of her kepther mind off everything

else.Justin’s face looked

asitalwaysdidontheseoccasions: open, caring,grief-stricken at herappearance. And therewas still a part of herthat responded to him,who believed him. Infact, Clare knew hemeanteverywordofhisabject apology. He wassincere, he did intend

nevertodrinkagain,hedid need and dependupon her. She wascertainly, in every way,the center of his life.Thatwaswhathadbeenso difficult throughouttheirmarriage: that shebelieved him. That hewas the man she hadmarried.

The trouble was, hewas not only thatman,

but someone else. Bothwerereal,shehadcometo understand. She hadmarriedamanwhowastwo different men: onethe tender lover, theother, an insanelyjealous, abusive tyrant.And themore the lattershowed his face, themore Clare wondered ifsoon the two Justinswould become one, onewho would keep his

often-stated promise,andchokethelifeoutofheronenight.

“Your father calledon you today, Clare,”herhusbandannouncedafter the familiar ritualofatearfulapology.

Clarewassurprised.Herparentsrarelycameup for the Season now,and when they did, itwas later in the spring.“I wonder why they are

here,” she said. “InMama’s last letter, shewasn’t sure they werecomingatall,muchlessthisearly.”

“Evidently yourfather has somebusiness to take careof.” Justin hesitated. “Itold him you werefeelingill,butwouldcallonhiminafewdays.”

Without thinking,Clare felt her nose. The

swellinghadgonedown,andher eye,whichwasalso discolored, wasalmost back to normal.Justin flinched whenshe did this, and shereached out for hishand. “I think I will befinebyWednesday.”

“Clare.”“Yes,Justin?”“I think I am going

tomakeanappointmentto see Dr. Shipton. I

have heard he has hadgreatsuccessinhelpingpeople reduce theirdependence onlaudanum. Perhaps hecan help me withbrandy.”

This was the firsttime that Justin hadever admitted that hisproblemwasbeyondhisownstrengthorresolve.Clare felt a stirring ofhope. Maybe there was

aGodafterall.“Oh,Justin,I’msure

that he could help you.AndIwoulddoanythingthat you needed me todotohelp.”

“Iknowthat,Clare,”hesaidquietly.

Thatnight,whenhereturned to her bed,Justin slowly andtenderly caressed andkissed her. At first, shecould not help from

shrinking back, andwhen he felt this, hegroaned, and shestiffenedinfear.

“I don’t blame youfor being frightened,Clare. I won’t ask youfor anything that youdon’twanttogive.”

And his restrainthad the effect it alwayshad: her fear subsided,and the old feeling oflove and passionate

responsetookover.Thistime, she thought, asthey lay there in eachother’s arms, this timehemeansit.

ChapterElevenThe Marquess of

HowlandhadcomeuptoLondon on business.But he had also comeup because he and hiswifewereworriedabouthis younger daughter.Although her marriagehad disappointed them,it had started off well,and he and themarchioness, after

seeing their daughter’shappiness, decidedperhaps they had beenwrong to push GilesWhitton. JustinRainsborough seemedanexcellenthusband.

They had beenconcerned by herappearance last spring,but knew that recoveryfrom a miscarriagecould take time. Thecouplehadvisited them

once and had seemedvery happy together.But they had also beenexpected for theChristmas holidays andhadcanceledatthelastminute in a note fromRainsborough, citingClare’s need to recoverfrom the Little Seasonand their desire tocelebratetheholidaysathome.

Clare had never

been sickly as a child,and her motherwondered whether shehad suffered anothermiscarriage. “Orperhaps she isincreasing again,” shetold her husband, “anddoesn’t want to raiseour hopes until she isfartheralong.”

But here it wasApril, and the gossipthat had reached them

about Clare’sappearance indicatedshe was still in poorhealth.

After his failed visitto his daughter, themarquessdecideditwastime to visit theWhittons and see ifClare had confidedanything to her oldfriends.

“The Marquess ofHowland,mylord.Heis

callingforLadySabrina,andwhenItoldhimshewas out, he asked foryou.”

Gileslookedupfromhis translation insurprise. Since theDysartswereoldfriendsof the family, naturallythey had seen eachother over the past twoyears. But since thewedding,ithadnotbeenoften,andClare’sfather

had never called onSabrinabefore.

“Show him in,Henley, and bring ussometea.”

“Yes,mylord.”When the door

opened to admit themarquess, Giles wassurprisedtoseehowhehadaged. Itwasalwayseasytoforgethowmucholder Clare’s parentswerethanhis.

“Please sit down,sir.”

“Thankyou,Giles.”“Would you like

some tea? Or perhapssherry?”

“Tea will be fine,Giles. It is too early forspirits. At least for me.Butyougoahead,ifyouwish.”

“Ineverdrinkduringtheday,”Gilesansweredwith a smile as the

butler handed themarquesshis tea. “Thatwillbeall,Henley,”saidGiles,dismissinghim.

“You must bewondering why I havecome.”

Giles smiled. “Iconfess to somecuriosity. You werelookingforSabrinafirst,Iunderstand.”

“Yes. I was hopingthat shemight helpme

sort out my concernsabout Clare.” Themarquess hesitated. “Itseemed moreappropriatetostartwithClare’s friend. Ofcourse, you were alsofriends,but...”

“But I am also arejected suitor. Don’tworry, I understand,Howland. I don’t thinkeitherofuscantellyouvery much, however.

Sabrina has not heardfrom Clare very oftenthesepasttwoyears.”

“Wasn’t she to visitDevonlastsummer?”

“It never came off.Clare wrote a notesaying she wished topostpone the visit, forshe was feelingindisposed.”

“I called on mydaughter the beginningof this week and was

told the same thing.Doyou think Clare isseriously ill, and theyarebothkeepingitfromus,Giles?”

“To tell you thetruth, Howland, I don’tknow what to think.Clare never seemed torecover the weight shelost after losing thebaby. I had evenwonderedifshehadlostanother?”

“If so, her motherand I have not beentold. But there is thesource of ourworry:wehave been told so little.There she is, in Devon,and we only getoccasional short notestelling us how happyshe is.Andthenweseeher or hear from thegossips how unwell shelooks.Rainsboroughisaverysolicitoushusband,

however,soitseemssheis lucky there,” headded, and thenrealizing to whom hewas speaking,apologizedimmediately.

“It is water underthe bridge, Howland,”Giles reassured him.“Rainsborough is veryprotectiveofClare,andIhave been hesitant toapproach her too often.

And she has made noeffort to keep up herfriendship with eithermeorSabrina,althoughSabrinahasneverquitegivenuponher.”

“I see. Perhaps it isjust as well Sabrinawasn’t here, then. Ishouldn’thavebotheredeither of you,” said themarquess, getting upfromthesofa.

“Of course you

should have,” repliedGiles. “Perhapswehaveheld back too muchwhenweshouldn’thave.WouldyoufeelbetterifIsought Clare out andtried to determinewhether your worriesaregroundless?”

The marquessturnedtowardGiles,hisfacebrightening.“Wouldyou, my boy? Hermother and I ... we

never had the samecloseness with Clare aswith our older children.She came so late, yousee. And her visits toWhitton were soimportanttoher. Ihavealwaysbeensorry...”

“SohaveI,Howland.But it has been twoyears,andIhavemovedon.”

“So Ihear,” said theoldermanwitha smile.

“LucyKirkmanhasbeenafter you for years, youknow,” the marquessreplied, happy to teaseGiles and lighten theconversation.

“Yousound just likemy sister! Don’t worry,though. I am not thesort to let a womancatchme unless I wantherto!”

****Giles knew that

Rainsborough usuallyvisited his club everyafternoon, and decidedto call on Clare whenher husband was out.Hewasadmittedby theRainsboroughs’ butlerthe next afternoon andshown into the drawingroom.

“I will send up yourcard,mylord,andseeifLady Rainsborough isabletoseeyou.”

“Thankyou.”When the butler

returned, however, heofferedGiles anapologyandexplainedthatLadyRainsborough wasresting. “She has beenunwell these past fewdaysandneedsherrestbefore attending LadyPetersham’s galatonight.”

Giles frowned. Hevery much wanted to

see Clare alone in herown home, for he feltthat was the only wayhewouldgethertoopenup to him. But he washardly in a position toinsist, so he took thebutler’s message withgood grace and badehim tell his mistressthat he hoped for awaltzthatevening.

“I will tell her, mylord,” said Peters as he

showedGilesout.Unfortunately,

Rainsborough was justcomingup thestreetasGileswasleaving.

“Good afternoon,Whitton,”hesaidcoldly.

“Good afternoon,”said Giles , bowingpolitely and continuingonhisway.Withanyoneelse he would havestayed and chatted andadmitted the reason for

his visit, but for somereason, Rainsborough’scoldness set up hisback.

Justin questionedhisbutlerassoonasthedooropened.

“Was Lord Whittonhere visiting LadyRainsborough,Peters?”

“Yes, my lord. Hecalled on my mistress,but she told me to tellhimshewasresting.”

Justin’s facelightened. “Good. If weare going out tonight,she needs her rest,” hesaidsolicitously.

“Yes, my lord.”Peters’s face may haveremained blank as agood butler’s should,but the conversation inhis head withRainsborough wouldhardlyhaveamusedhisemployer.Therehegoes

again, the kindesthusbandyouwouldeverwant to meet, makingsure my lady gets herrest. Making sure noone can see how hetreatsher!

Most of thehouseholdwasofcourseaware of the situationbetween their masterand mistress. Most ofthem didn’t like LordRainsborough. But he

hadchosenhisservantswell: men and womenwho were older or hadreceived a less thanglowing reference fromtheir previousemployers.Noneofthemwas in any position toprotest his treatment ofLady Rainsborough.And, after all, theywould say tothemselves,whatamandoeswithhiswifeinthe

privacy of his home ishis business, nomatterwhat a rough businessitwas.

Justin enteredClare’s room withoutknocking. She wassitting by her windowreading,andshestartedwhen she heard himcomein.

“Justin! I didn’texpect you back fromyourclubsoearly.”

“Apparently not,sinceWhittonwashere,callingonyou.”

Clare tried to gaugeher husband’s mood.Shecouldnotsmellanyliquor on his breath ashecamecloser,andthatwasarelief.Hesoundedangry, but not out ofcontrol,thankgoodness.

“I was quitesurprised when Peterssent up Giles’s card,”

sheansweredmatter-of-factly. “I toldhimto tellGilesIwasresting.”

Justin passed hishand over his forehead,and his expressioncleared. “I know, Peterstold me, Clare, but thethought of you meetingwith Whitton privately...”

“Which I have neverdone, Justin,” shequietlyreassuredhim.

“I know, I know.Well, Ishould leaveyouto get your rest,” hesaid,droppingakissonthetopofherhead.

“Justin? Did youhave a chance toschedule anappointment with Dr.Shipton?” Clare askedhesitantly.

“Dr. Shipton? No,not yet,Clare. In fact, Iam not even sure I

really need to see himafter all. I have had notrouble refraining fromspirits these last fewdays.”

“I am glad to hearthat,Justin,butIwouldbe very happy if youconsulted with himanyway.”

Her husband wavedhishandatherandsaidimpatiently: “I’ll thinkabout it, Clare, but

don’t put any pressureon me. I am competenttojudgemyownstateofmind.”

After he left, Claresatthereforawhile,herbook forgotten in herlap.WhyhadGilescomecallingonher?Shehadhad to turn him away,of course. And thankGod, she had, for whoknew what would havehappened with Justin

cominghomeearly.Perhaps Sabrina

needed her? But thenwouldn’t Sabrina havecalled? Giles had beenspendingsomuchofhistime with LucyKirkman. Perhaps hewantedtotellherofhisbetrothal beforeannouncing it publicly.Or perhaps he wantedto know why she wasavoidingheroldfriends.

Thatwasthemostlikelyreason, she supposed,and therefore she wasglad to be able to sendhimaway,forshecouldhardlygivehimtherealreason.

She felt the knot offear that was herconstant companiontighten in her stomach.It had relaxed a littlethese past few daysbecause of Justin’s

decision to seek outmedical help. She hadallowed hope to revive.Hope that at last thenightmare her marriagehad become would beoverandtheJustinshefell in love with wouldreturn to her. Well,Justin had not said hewouldn’t go, shereassured herself. Hejust didn’t want to bebadgered about it. She

would not mention Dr.Shiptonforawhile.Andshe would continue tobehopeful.

****The Rainsboroughs

hadbecomesoerraticintheir attendance atsocial functions thatClare’s card was rarelyfull.Gilesmadesurehemade his way over towhere she stood with agroup of acquaintances

early that evening andconfirmed his waltz.There was no way forClaretorefusehim,andshe tried to tell herselfthat all would be well.Justinwasnotdrinking,and she had reassuredhimjustthisafternoon.

She did her best tokeep away from theWhittons,butonecouldhardlyturndownanoldfriend in public. So she

justsmiledandletGileswrite his name on hercard.Shelookedaroundforherhusband,hopingshecouldcatchhimandexplain, but he wasdeep in conversationonthe other side of theroom. And by the timeshe had danced a fewsets and looked forhimagain, she wasdismayed to see himaccepting a glass of

champagne. But oneglass never set him off,she reassured herself,and when she saw himmakinghiswayintothecard room, she wasrelieved. He wasn’thovering over hertonight as much asusual, and if he stayedat the whist table longenough,shewouldhavealready finished herwaltzwithGiles.

When Giles came toclaim her hand, shegave him a nervoussmile and let him leadherout.

When Giles put hishand around Clare’swaist, he was appalledat how he could feelevery rib through hergown. For amoment, aterrible fear seized him:perhaps she was

seriously ill. But whenhelookeddown,hesawa pale face, not thehectic flush thataccompaniedconsumption,andsohemade himself relax andpay attention to themusic.

After the musicstopped,hekeptClare’sarm through his, andleaning down, asked ifhe could have a few

minutes alone. Clare’seyes darted desperatelyaround, but Justin wasnowhereinsight,andsoshe nodded heragreement.ClearlyGileswasgoing topersist,nomatter what, so shemightaswellgetitoverwith.

There were a fewsmall rooms off eachside of the ballroom,and Giles walked Clare

over to one and let thedoorclosebehindthem.

He sat Clare downon a small sofa, butremained standing. Sheglancednervouslyatthedoor, and her fingersbegan pleating the skirtofhergown.

“Giles, did you havesomething particularyou wanted to say tome?”Hervoicewastightwithtension.

“You are not afraidtobealonewithme,areyou, Clare?” Gilesasked, appalled at howfarfromtheeaseoftheiroldfriendshiptheywere.

“No,Giles, of coursenot. I just don’t wantany gossip to start up.”She could hardly tellhimitwasherhusbandshe feared. Why didn’thegetonwithit,soshecould be back in the

ballroom before Justinnoticedherabsence?

“Sabrina and I havebeenworriedaboutyou,Clare. I know that timechangesthings,evenoldfriendships, andperhaps it is only thatyour marriage takes upmost of your attention.Butyouhavenotlookedwell this past year, andSabrina has found itdifficult to find enough

time with you to askwhy.”

Clare attempted acasual, almostdismissivetone.“Iamofcourse grateful for yourconcern, Giles. I mustconfess that mymarriage to Justin hasbeen unfashionablytime-consuming, andperhaps Ihaveneglectedmyotherrelationships.I

assure you, though,thatIamquitewell.”

“Your father andmotherdonotthinkso.”

Clare lookedstartled.“Myparents?”

“Your father calledonme the other day toaskme ifSabrinaand Iknewifyouhadperhapshad...another...”

“No,Giles,Ihavenotlost another baby,”Clare answered quietly.

“I am sorry my fatherdraggedyouintowhatisessentially a privatematter.”

“Your parents areworried about you,Clare. As are your oldfriends,”headded.

“Their concern istouching, but a fewyears too late,” sheanswered bitterly. “Youmay assure my fatherthatIamquitewelland

very happy, Giles. Andnow we had best begettingback.”

Giles felt utterlyfrustrated.Hehaddonehis best, but Clare wasclearlyunwillingtoopenher heart to him or toanyone. He offered herhishandasshegotup,andbroughtherbacktoasmallgroupofmutualacquaintanceswherehestayedandchattedfora

few minutes beforeexcusinghimselftoseekout his next dancepartner.Neitherofthemnoticed Rainsborough,who had been standingin the doorway of thecard room and seenthememerge.

****Clare felt her

husband’s hot breathand smelled the brandyfumesasheleanedover

herfrombehind.“IthinkIwillgetyou

home early tonight, mydear. Youdon’twant totire yourself.” His handgripped her arm like avise, but she kept herface empty even thoughshe could feel the painofoldbruises.

“We ladies arealways envious of yourwife, LordRainsborough,”

commented one of thegroup surroundingClare. “She is veryfortunate to have suchan attentive andobservant spouse. Ihope she appreciatesyou as much as youdeserve,” Lady Brettteased.

Rainsboroughsmiled his mostcharmingsmileasClaremade her excuses to

their hostess, but saidnothingtohiswifeasheled her to the door andhailedtheircarriage.Hetook Clare’s cloak fromthefootmananddrapedit over her shouldershimself. When hishands brushed herthroat, she shuddered.He must have beendrinking thewhole timehe was in the cardroom,she thought.Had

heseenhercomeoutofthe anteroom withGiles? Oh, God, shehoped not. But whatother reason did hehave to rush her off soearlyintheevening?

ChapterTwelve“Getup.”Clare uncurled

herself slowly and thenpulledherselfagainintoa fetal position as shefeltJustin’sbootagainstherback.

“Getup,slut.”Clare bit down on

her hand as Justinkicked her again. Therewas nothing she could

do to protect her back,nothingshecoulddoatall except keep herselffrom screaming in painby biting her ownfingers to distractherself.

Justinreacheddownand grasped her by thehair.

“I said, get up,bitch.”

Clareallowedherselfto be pulled into a

sitting position, and asJustinletgoofherhair,she pushed herself upwith her hands andstoodonshakylegswithher back to themantel.She hoped her ordealwas almost over.Usually Justin’s kicksmeant that the beatingwas coming to an end.Althoughthesepast fewweeks, he had startedchoking her. She

shivered.“Whatwere youand

Whitton doing in theanteroom, my ladywhore?”

Clare said nothing.She had already givenher usual calmexplanation and denialin the carriage, whichnever convinced himanyway.Hehadpushedher into the library assoon as they arrived

home and sent thebutleruptobed.

Here she was, LadyRainsborough, beingbeaten senselessbyherhusband while theirservants sleptcomfortablyonthethirdfloor. They all knewabout it, of course, butit was none of theirbusinessafterall.

She watchedfearfully as Justin

clenched andunclenched his handsagainst his side asthoughhewere fightingtokeepthemfromgoingaround her throat. Shebacked up against themantel, and his handreached out andgrabbedherneck.Allofa sudden, he let her goand walked over to thedesk. Was it over atlast? She was afraid to

hopeso.He was opening a

polished wooden case,andshealmostdroppedwhere she stood whenshe saw it contained apair of dueling pistols.Please God, he wasn’tgoingtochallengeGiles.Oh, God, if she wereresponsible for Giles’sdeath, she would killherself.

“Lovely, aren’t they,

Clare?”Justinliftedoneof the pistols andsighteddownthebarrel.“I aman excellent shot,asyouknow.”

Shenodded.“And Whitton? Well,

I have seen him atManton’s. Would youliketohaveusfightoveryou,Clare. Is thatwhatthisisallabout?”

“No,Justin,no,”sheanswered in a low,

shakingvoice.“I think you are

telling the truth.Because you would notwish me to kill yourlover, would you,Clare?”

“He is notmy lover.Youknowthat,Justin.”

“WhatIknowisthatyou are a sneaking,conniving woman, rankasabitchinheat,Clare.But I will give you a

chance. Admit that youhave been Whitton’sloverandpromiseneverto see him again, and Iwillnotchallengehim.”

It would be hard,but therewas obviouslyno choice. And shehadn’t really seen Gilesmuch in the last year,sowhatwould there betomiss?

“I promise I willnever speak to him or

seehimagain,Justin.”Justin drew next to

her and slowly ran thebarrelofthepistoldownhercheek. “That isonlypart of what I asked,Clare.”

“I swear I will neversee him again, Justin.But how can I tell youwe have been loverswhen it is not thetruth?”

Rainsborough

pressed the pistolagainsthertemple.“Tellthe truth, Clare, and Iwill letyouandWhittonlive. Lie to me again,andIwillshootyounowandtaketheotherpistoland kill him in themiddle of a waltz, ifneedsbe.”

She knew he meantit. He had almostchoked her to deathtwicealready.Shedidn’t

care about her own lifeanymore. In fact, shealmost would havewelcomed the release.ButtoletGilesdie?

“All right, Justin.But you must swear tome that if I tell you thetruth and keep mypromise, you will letGilesalone.”

Rainsboroughlowered the pistol andsaid in a quiet, almost

tendervoice,“Iswearit,Clare. Once I amsatisfied, this needneverhappenagain,”

Clare took a deepbreath and said: “Yes,Justin, you are right.Giles and I have beenlovers. But I swear, asGod ismywitness, thatIwillneverseeorspeakto him again.” Forgiveme, Giles, she thought,fordamagingyourname

and for the hurt thismaycauseyou.

Rainsboroughdropped the pistol onthe rug. “So you havebeenlyingtomeallthistime,” he whisperedfiercely.

“Yes,Justin.”He grabbed her by

the neck, and her eyeswidenedinfear.

“Justin, I did what

you asked,” she saiddesperately. “You mustkeepyourpromise.”

“Ionlypromisedthisscene would neverhappen again, Clare.And it won’t,” he addedas he tightened hishandaroundherthroat.

Clare backed away,but it was foolish toeven imagine she couldget away. She felt shewasleadinghimonand

could feel the pressureonherwindpipeandherbreathbeingcutoff.Hewas leaning into her,and her back was nowbent over the desk. Hewas going to kill her atlast, she thought. Whynot let him? Her legsbuckled, and shebeganto sink down, down,toward death. It wouldbe so easy ... shecouldn’t fight him ... it

wasover...As her knees gave

way under her, sheinstinctively reachedback to keep herbalance, and her handbrushed the corner ofsomething heavy andcold. Everything in herhad been saying, “Yes,yes, just let go, Clare.Just sink down and itwillbequicklyover,andyouwillbefree.”

Andthen,fromsomeplace in her that shedidn’t know existed,came a “No.” Shecouldn’t scream it,becausehishandswerechoking off her voiceand breath. But it roseand rose until shethought it would burstthrough the top of herhead. “No, no, no.” Herhand closedaround theneck of a brass

candlestick and in thelast moment before shelost consciousness, sheraised it and brought itdown on Justin’s headashardasshecould.

He released herinstantly and slumpedto the floor. She stoodthere, gasping forbreath, herwhole beingstill silently shouting,“No!” Oh, my God, hewas moving, he was

getting up, he wouldcomeafterheragain,hewouldkillherthistime.She didn’t think, shejust moved. The casewasopen,thepistolwaslying in it, she lifted it,andashebegantorise,arms open, she walkedtoward him, as thoughinto his embrace,pressed the pistolagainst his chest, andfired. He fell back, eyes

wide open in surprise.His left arm twitched,and Clare, terrified thathe was going to comeafter her again,scrambledovertowherethe other pistol lay onthe floor. He groaned,andseemedtobetryingtopullhimselfup.Clareapproached him slowly,and pressing the otherpistol against histemple, fired. He

slumped down in frontofherandlaystill.

“Oh, God,” shewhispered. “Oh, God, Idon’t know how toreload them.What if hewakes up?” She lookedaround desperately andgrabbed the poker fromthe fireplace. She stoodoverherhusband,dressdrenched in his blood,hands and bodyshaking, saying, “No,

no,” over and overagain.AndwhenPeters,whohadbeenawakenedby the shots, came intothe library, he saw hismistress standing overher husband’s body,brandishingthepoker.

“LadyRainsborough?”

Clare looked up forone minute and thenback down, as thoughafraid her husband

would attack her if sherelaxed her vigilanceevenforonemoment.

“Did you see himmove, Peters? He isgoing to kill me. Don’tlet him get up again. Iwon’t let him kill me,”she added, gripping thepokermoretightly.

Thebutler lookedathis mistress and downat Rainsborough. Themasterwasnotmoving.

The master wouldobviously never moveagain. The master waswellandtrulydead.

He walked over toClare and gently tookthe poker from herhand.

“You will not needthis, my lady. LordRainsboroughisdead.”

“No,no,hecan’tbe.I saw him move after Ishothim.”

“I think you mustsay nothing, my lady,”saidthebutlerasheledher over to the sofa.“Until I summon aRunner.”

“Yes,aRunnercouldstop him,” whisperedClare. Then her facecrumpled. “But I can’ttell him whathappened.”

Peters patted herhand reassuringly. “Of

course you can, mylady.Youcantellhimitwasadreadfulaccident.Will yoube all right if Ileaveyoualoneforafewminutes?”

Clare nodded, andthebutlerlefttoawakenafootmanandsendhimofftoBowStreet.

Clare pulled at herdress. It was wet andsticky anduncomfortable.Andred.

Surely she had beenwearing her green silkthisevening?Shelookeddown at Justin andshuddered.Hewaslyingvery still, and hisclotheswerestainedthesame red as her own.How strange. Sheswallowed and winced.Why was her throat sosore? They had comehome early from theball. Justin had pulled

her into the library ...Herheadwaspoundingandall after thatwasablank.Allsheknewwasthe terror. Justin wasgoing to kill her. ButJustin wasn’t moving,so maybe she was safeuntilPetersreturned.

****Shehadnoideahow

long she sat therewatching her husbandclosely for any

movement at all. Sheheard voices in thehallway and then thebutler was back,accompanied by a BowStreetRunner.

“I found herstanding over him withthe poker,” Peters saidinalowvoice.

The Runnersurveyed the scene.Lord Rainsborough layon a red and blue

Turkey carpet with ahole in his left templeandanotherthroughhischest. LadyRainsboroughsatontheleather sofa in abloodstained silk gown,looking up at him inconfusionandfear.

“Youwillnotlethimkill me, will you?” sheaskedfearfully.

She was either in astate of shock or she

was a damned goodactress, thought theRunner.

“No, no, of coursenot,LadyRainsborough.Please watch yourmaster for a moment,Peters,” said the runnerinordertoreassureher.“May I ask you a fewquestions abouttonight?”

Clarenodded.“It appears from

your evening dress thatyou and your husbandwereouttonight?”

Clarenoddedagain.“May I ask where,

mylady?”“We attended the

Petershamsball.”“Isee.Andwhendid

youleavetheball?”Clare frowned. “I

think it was about one.Weleftearly,yousee.”

“And you came

straighthome?”“Yes.”“And then what

happened, LadyRainsborough?”

Clare twisted herfingers together andplucked at the blood-soaked bodice of hergown. “I ... I can’tremember.”

“Youare afraid yourhusband wants to killyou, my lady?” The

Runnerlookedatherfora long moment. “Youhave bruises on yourthroat, and your face isswollen. Was it yourhusbandwhodidthat?”

Clare only looked athimblankly.

“Has he done thisbefore, LadyRainsborough?”

“Done what?” shewhispered.

“Beatenyou.”

“Justin? Justin is amost loving andaffectionate husband,”she said in a calm,detached voice. “Hewouldneverhurtme.”

The Runner roseand addressed thebutler. “Clearly yourmistress is in a state ofshock,Peters.Wakeherabigail so she can seeher up to bed. I’llsummon another

Runner and make surethehouseisguardedallnight.”

“Is my lady underarrest, then?”askedthebutler, horrified to beemployed in ahousehold with such ascandal breakingaroundhim.

“Of a sort. Itcertainly looks asthough she killed LordRainsborough. But she

is in no condition to bebrought before anyonetonight. And I wouldn’twant to see a lady likethatinNewgateanyway.Iwilljustmakesureshestays here safe andsound,untilacoroner’sinquest. Does yourmistress have family inLondon? Or a closefriend? Someone whocouldbeherewhensheawakes?”

“Her father andmother just arrived intown,” said Peters, “butthey are both quite old,and it would be adreadfulshock...”

“Surely she hassomewomanfriend?”

“Lady SabrinaWhitton,” the butleranswered hesitantly.“ButLadyRainsboroughhas kept very much toherself this last year or

so.”“But theywere once

close?”“Oh,yes.”“Well,summonLady

Sabrina inthemorning.Your mistress needssomeone with her tohelpheroutofthestateofshocksheisin.Iwillget clearer answers outof her when thathappens.”

“Yes,sir.”

“Has LordRainsborough anyrelationswhoshouldbenotified?”

“Just a distantcousin in Lancashire,sir.”

“Well, best let thefamily man of businesstake care of notifyinghim.Iwillhavethebodyremoved in themorning.”

Peters blanched.

“Yes,sir.”****

Sabrina,whowasanearly riser, was justgetting dressed whentheir head footmanknocked on her door.She looked over at herabigail questioninglyandmotioned forher toanswerit.

“Whatever is it,William,”said themaid,opening the door less

than halfway. “My ladyis just getting ready forbreakfast.”

William cleared histhroatnervously.“Ihavea note from theRainsboroughhousehold,” he said.“Theirbutlerdeliveredithimself and said it isurgent.”

The abigail put outher hand. “All right. Iwillgiveittoher.”

“The Rainsborough’sbutler delivered this?”asked Sabrina, lookingat the folded square ofpaper in her hand. Shewas almost afraid toopenit.SomethingmusthavehappenedtoClare.

“Yes,mylady.”Sabrinasatdownat

her dressing table sothat her maid could doup the last tapesofhermorning dress, and

opened the note. “LadySabrina, LordRainsborough has beenshot. LadyRainsborough has needofafriend.”Peters.

“Surelythismustbesome joke,” mutteredSabrina. “But you sayPeters delivered ithimself?”

“Yes,Williamsaidhewas very insistent thatyougetitrightaway.”

Sabrina stood upsuddenly, jerking thelast tape out of herabigail’shands.

“Have a footmanpourmesometea.Iwillbe going to LadyRainsborough’sdirectly.”

“Yes,mylady.”Sabrinawasout the

dooranddownthehall,knocking on herbrother’sdoor.

“Giles,Giles.Areyouawake?”Shecouldhearhim groaning. He hadcome in late last night,and she had seen himdrinkmorethanwashiswontafterhistête-à-têtewithClare.

“Giles!”“All right, Sabrina,

allright.Thishadbetterbe important.” Gilesopened the door andlooked both annoyed

and bleary-eyed as hetied his dressing gowntogether.

“The Rainsboroughbutler delivered this afew minutes ago,” saidSabrina, thrusting thenoteathim.

Gileslookedupfromthepaperwithapuzzledlook on his face thatwouldhavebeenalmostcomicalunderanyothercircumstances.

“Rainsborough dead?Shot?Wasitintruders?”

“I don’t know,Giles,but clearly I must getover to Clareimmediately.”

“I will go with you,”hesaidinstantly.

“I think it would bebetter if you told herparents,Giles.Nodoubttheservantsarealreadygossiping, and Iwouldn’t want the

Dysartstohearitthird-hand.”

Giles frowned. “Isuppose you are right.Please give Clare mysympathy.”

“Iwill,”saidSabrina.

ChapterThirteenAs she turned onto

St. James Street,Sabrina saw that therewas a Runner standingin front of theRainsborough townhouse. It must havebeenattemptedrobbery,she thought. PerhapsJustin had surprised aburglar in the act. TheRunner moved in front

of the door as Sabrinacame up the stairs andasked her to identifyherself.

“I am Lady SabrinaWhitton,” she answeredfrostily. “I wassummoned early thismorningtobewithLadyRainsborough.”

“All right, my lady.No need to get so highinthe instep. Iwastoldto keep everyone out

except for my lady’sfriend.Whichisyou,”headded with a smile ashe opened the door forher.

Peters was almosteffusive in his greetingswhen Sabrina enteredthehallway.“Thankyouso much for coming,Lady Sabrina. This hasbeen a horrible ordeal,horrible.Iwillshowyouup.”

AsSabrinamountedthe stairs, she sawanother Runner off toherleftstandinginfrontofwhatshethoughtwasthe library door, andsheshivered.Thatmusthave been where theintruder broke in, shethought. That couldhavebeenwhereJustinwaskilled.

Peters knockedsoftly on his mistress’s

door,andLizaopenedit.“Lady Sabrina

Whittontoseemylady,”he announced in asolemnwhisper.

“Come in, LadySabrina,” saidLizawitha relieved smile. “I amveryworriedaboutLadyRainsborough.”

Sabrinawalked veryquickly past Clare’sabigail, eager to takeClare in her arms and

hear thewholedreadfulstory, and then frozemid-way.

“I can’t get her intobed, Lady Sabrina,”whispered Liza behindher.

Clare was standingto the left of her bed,back to the window,holding a small ironfireplace shovel in herhands. She was still inhergreensilkballgown,

orwhathadbeengreensilk. ItwasnowstainedsohorriblythatSabrinagasped.

“I could not get herto take it off, my lady,”whisperedLiza.

“Clare,”Sabrinasaidsoftly. “I am here, mydear. IamsosorrythatJustinhasbeenhurt.”

Clare lifted theshovel in frontofher.“I

willnot let himkillme,”she said fiercely. “I willnot.”

“Youaresafe,Clare.There are two Runnershere. The intruder willnotcomeback.”

“Justin?”“I don’t know yet,

mydear,but I thinkheis dead,” said Sabrinagently.

“But I saw himmove,” said Clare in a

terrifiedwhisper.“Then,perhapsheis

not dead,” repliedSabrina,reassuringly.

Clare began toshake.“Ifheisnot,thenIam.”

Sabrina looked overto Liza, bewildered byherfriend’swords.

“Themasterisdead,Lady Sabrina. I keeptellingher that,butshedoesn’t seem to believe

me.”“Butwhythen...?”“Oh, it was no

robber, my lady. It wasLadyRainsboroughwhokilledherhusband.”

Sabrina looked atClareandreallysawherfor the first time, notjust the bloodstainedgown. Her friend’s facewas red and bruised,and her lips wereswollen.Therewerelivid

marks around Clare’sthroat,sherealized,justas thoughsomeonehadbeen trying to strangleher. And if there hadbeen no intruder, thenClare was terrified ofJustin. Of her ownhusband.

Sabrina took a deepbreath. “Liza, could youplease bring some hotwater for Lady

Rainsborough’sbath.”“I tried to gether to

take that gown off, butshe wouldn’t, my lady,”said the Liza, eager toexplain that she, LadyRainsborough’s abigail,hadnotbeennegligent.

“Perhaps I canpersuadeher.”

“Yes,mylady.”Sabrinawalked over

toherfriend.“Clare,willyouletmehelpyoutake

offthisgown?”Clare backed away.

“But I saw him move,Sabrina.”

“Clare, if I wentdownand...sawJustindead, would thatreassureyou?”

“Would you,Sabrina? Would youmake sure he is dead?”Tears started runningdown Clare’s cheeks.Sabrina was here.

Sabrina would makesureJustin couldn’t getup from where he layand begin to choke heragain.

“Yes,Clare.But youmust sit down and restwhileIamgone.”

Clare shook herhead.

“Youwillbeallrightalone for a fewminutes?”

Clarenodded.

“Iwillberightback,”Sabrinaassuredher.

Sabrina made herwaydownthestairsandapproached Peters.“Lady Rainsborough isfearfulthatherhusbandisstillalive.”

“Lord Rainsboroughis most certainly dead,LadySabrina.”

“I promised her Iwould see for myself,Peters.”

Thebutlerfrowned.“She won’t sit, she

won’t bathe, she is in astateofshock,Peters.”

“It is not a pleasantsight,LadySabrina,”hewarnedher.

“Neither is LadyRainsborough.”

The butlerapproached the Runnerguardingthelibraryandthen summonedSabrina. “Youcango in

for only a minute, mylady.”

The Runner pushedopen the library door.JustinRainsboroughlayon his back, eyes wideopen as thoughsearchingtheceiling foran answer to hispredicament. His shirtwas as horribly stainedas Clare’s dress, andthere was a duelingpistol on the carpet

besidehim.“They will be by for

the body shortly, mylady. Have you seenenough?” asked theRunner.

Sabrina, who washoldingherhandtohermouth,nodded.

“Are you all right,mylady?”

“Yes,yes.”“Get the lady a

chair,” said the Runner

sharply, after lookingmore closely atSabrina’sface.

Sabrina sank into itgratefully, and put herhead between her legsforafewminutes.

“Iamsorry,Officer.Iamnotusuallythishen-hearted.”

The Runner pattedher awkwardly on theshoulder. “Now, now,my lady, it is a hard

sight for anyone notused to it.Andeven forthoseofuswhoare.Thelady did a fine job onherhusband.”

“ThenitwasClare?”“Found standing

overhimwithafireplacepoker, worrying that hewasgoingtogetupandattackher!”

Sabrina shuddered.“Oh,God,andwenever

even suspected thatanythingwaswrong.”

“Happens all thetime,mylady.”

“This?” askedSabrina, gesturingtowardJustin’sbody.

“Well, usually it isthe wife lying theredead,” admitted theRunner. “ ‘But no oneever suspected, Officer,’orevenmorelikely,‘But

itwerehiswife.’”Sabrina stood up

andswayed.“Are you sure you

areallright?”“Yes,yes.Imustget

backtoClare.”****

Clare was stillstanding vigilant, butherarmsrelaxedalittlewhenSabrinareturned.

“Didyouseehim?Ishetrulydead?”

“Yes, Clare, I sawhim. He will neverthreatenyouagain.”

Clare drew a deep,ragged breath andlowered her arm.“Threatenme? I wish ithad only been threats,”sheaddedwithanironicsmile.

The bath had beenfilled,andthewaterwassteaming. “Come, mydear,letmehelpyouoff

with your dress.” Clarestood quietly whileSabrinaundidhertapesand let the gown slipdown around her feet.She lifted her arms likea child as her friendpulled the underslipover her head and thenlowered them asSabrina undid herstays.

Sabrina had beenshocked to see

Rainsborough’s body,but almost morehorrible was seeingClare’s. Her friend wasthin to the point ofemaciation, and bothher belly and her backwere discolored withbruises,oldandnew.AsSabrina helped Clareintothebathandbeganto sponge her downgently, she realized thatthe marks on her

friend’sbody could onlyhave been made bysomething harder thanafist:somethinglikethetoe of a boot. As shesqueezed warm, soapywaterdownClare’sbackand watched it rundown,shecouldfeelthetears slipping down herowncheeks.

“How long has thisbeengoingon,Clare?”

Clarewassilent,and

Sabrina looked into hereyes and repeated herquestiongently.

“I don’t know. Fromthe beginning, I guess,”repliedClareinasleepy,farawayvoice.

“Why didn’t you tellme,Clare?”

“Why, what couldyou have done, Brina?”Clare answered calmly,almostdreamily.

Killed Rainsborough

myself, thoughtSabrina.

****The hot bath and a

cup of hot chocolatelaced with rum thatSabrina ordered madeClarerelaxedandsleepyenough so that whenSabrina put her to bed,she fell asleep almostimmediately. Sabrinasat by her side foralmost an hour until

Peters knocked softlyand informed her thatlords Whitton andHowland had arrivedandwereinquiringafterClare.

“Iwillberightdown,Peters.” Sabrina pulledthe covers higheraround Clare’sshoulders and gentlybrushed her friend’shair back fromher faceas though she were a

child. “Come, Liza, sithere and stay with heruntilshewakes.”

The marquess wassitting in the morningroom looking very oldandverytired.Gileswaspacing the carpet whenSabrina walked in andrushed over as soon ashesawher.

“Where is she,Sabrina? Is she allright? Was she injured

also?”“She is asleep now,

Giles.”“And

Rainsborough?” askedthemarquess.

“Lord Rainsboroughis indeed dead, mylord.”

“Does Clare knowyet?” Giles askedworriedly.

Sabrina’s laugh wasmirthless. “Yes, Giles,

Clare knows. Now.Although at first shewas terrified that hewasn’t.” Sabrina sankdown into the nearestchair.

Giles stood in frontof her, nonplussed. “Iam not sure what youmean, Sabrina? Whywould Clare want herhusbanddead?”

“Oh, Giles, sitdown,” Sabrina replied

with a tired sigh. “Wehave all been so blind.Clare is responsible forher husband’s death.There was no intruder,no burglar. There wasonlyClare.”

“You are quitemad,Sabrina,” said herbrotherangrily.“Clareistoo gentle to hurtanyone, much less abeloved husband. Alovinghusband.”

“A not so lovinghusband, Giles. Ahusband who beat her... andkickedher.And,from what I can see,must have been tryingtochokehertodeath.”

The marquessburied his face in hishands. “Oh, my poorchild.”

“I do notunderstand, Sabrina.Rainsborough doted on

Clare. Everyone knewthat. Why, he wasoverprotective, ifanything.”

“I am not sure Iunderstand, either,Giles. But I have seenthe bruises on Clare’sbodyandonherthroat.And I saw her face thismorning,Giles.Shewasterrified.Shemusthaveseenhimmoveaftersheshot him, and she

wouldn’t even take hergown off until Ipromised to see formyself that Justin wasdead and not going tocome after her again.”Sabrinashuddered.

“MyGod,Brina,youdidn’t see him, didyou?”

“I had to, Giles. Itwas theonlyway together out of that bloodygownandintobed.And

that, by the way, wasnot a profanity but theliteral truth,”sheaddedwithableaksmile.

Giles put his armaround her and drewher close, and Sabrinalet herself cry softlyagainsthisshoulder.

“Where is Clarenow?” asked themarquess.

“In bed, asleep. Igaveherahotbathand

some chocolate liberallylacedwithrum.Butyoushould probably call adoctor for her, for I amsure shewas in a deepstateofshock.”

“Iwilltakeherhomewithme,” Clare’s fatherdeclared, rising slowlyfromhischair.Hecameover to Sabrina andawkwardly patted herontheshoulder.“Thankyou for being such a

goodfriend,mydear.”Sabrina put her

hand on his arm andreplied: “I hardlydeserveyourthanks,mylord. Poor Clare hasbeenabsolutelyaloneinthis ordeal for twoyears. I should haveknown something waswrong.”

“No, no, my dear.Everything is muchclearer now, isn’t it,

Giles? Her ‘illnesses,’her pulling away, herhusbandwantingherallto himself.” Themarquess’s facebecamehard. “I am glad sheshot him. Had I knownwhat he was doing toher, I would have doneitmyself.”

****Clare’s father was

back within minutes,shaking with

indignation and fear.“Theywon’t letme takeher home, Giles. TherearetwoRunnersheretomake sure she doesn’t‘escape!’ According tothem,sheisasuspectedfelon and we are luckysheisnotinNewgate!”

“Sit down,Howland,sit down. There is nosense in your becomingoverwrought,” saidGiles, leading the

marquess over to achairbythefireplace.

“We must dosomething, Giles,” saidSabrina. “It is obviousthat shewas in fear forher life. No one couldcondemn her fordefendingherself.”

“Rainsborough washer husband, Sabrina.Hehadevery legal righttobeathiswife.”

Sabrinaflushedwith

anger.“Giles!”“I mean legally,

Sabrina. And we allknow that Lord Tarnasoccasionally physically‘chastises’ his wife andno one thinks twiceabout it. After all, it isconsidered a privatematter.”

“How can you besaying these things,Giles?”

“I am merely trying

to point out that tosome people ahusband’s absoluteauthorityoverhiswifeisacceptable. Indeed,societyandthelawtakeitforgranted.”

“Do they takebruisesonthebellyandback for granted?Bruises that could onlycome from viciouskicking for granted? Iwouldtakeyoubothup

toseeher,except that Idon’t want herdisturbed. Her throathas his finger marksimprintedonit,Giles!”

“And it is all myfault,” said her brotherquietly. “I insisteduponseeing her alone lastnight, even though shedidn’t want me to. Sheknewwhathewoulddoto her, her oh-so lovinghusband.”

“There is no use forself-recrimination now,Giles,” said themarquess. “I am herfather, and I shouldhave seen what wasgoing on. But we mustput all our energy intofinding someone whocan prove herinnocence.”

Gileswassilentforamoment. “Do you haveanyoneinmind,sir?”

Themarquessshookhis head. “The familysolicitor has noexperience in preparingcriminal cases, butperhaps he knowssomeoneelsewhocoulddothejob.”

“Iwasthinkingofanold school friend ofmine,” offered Giles.“AndrewMore.Heistheyounger brother ofViscountAvery.”

“Does he have anyexperiencein...criminalcases,” asked Clare’sfather. Itwashardeventosaytheword.

Gilessmiledhisfirstreal smile of themorning. “Yes. He is asort of black sheep inthefamilyasamatteroffact. They had hopedthathewouldbecomeasolicitortosomeLordSoand So instead of a

barrister. I don’t thinkhis father ever knewAndrew intended to trycases. He does doenough work for thewealthy to earn a verygood living. But he isfascinated by criminalwork and takes on anumberofcharitycases.He likes defending theunderdog. And I’m surehe knows a fewexperienced solicitors

who can help preparethecase.”

“Will he take Clareon,doyouthink?”

“I will see him thisafternoon, sir, and domy best to convincehim.”

ChapterFourteenAndrewMore looked

around his office indespair. Unfortunatelyhis new clerk was nomoreorganizedthanhisemployer. The booksthat he had been usinglastweekwerestillpiledup on his desk, withslips of paper stickingout, marking the caseshewasinterestedin.His

deskwas clutteredwithbriefs.Andalthoughhisusual way of workingwas to create a smallamountofchaosaroundhim while focusingintently on the task athand, even he had ahard time ignoring thismess.

Hewasverygrateful,then, to have a visitorannounced, and whenhe heard Giles’s name,

went directly into thefrontofficetogreethim.

“Giles! What anunexpected pleasure.Comein,comein.Bringus some coffee, Jepson,willyouplease?”

Giles, whose moodwasfarfromlightunderthe circumstances,looked around andlaughed out loud.Andrew’s office lookedjust like his rooms at

Oxfordyearsago.Itwasobvioushis friendcouldstill ignore everythingaround him when hewas intent upon hiswork.

“Don’t laugh, Giles,”said Andrew, throwinguphishandsindespairand lifting Blackstone’sjournal off the mostcomfortable chair sothat Giles could sitdown. “It is too much,

even for me today. Andmy new clerk isexcellent inmanyways,but organization isneither of our strongpoints. But enough ofmy disorder. It is goodtoseeyou.”

Giles smiled. “Andyou.” And it was, evenunder suchcircumstances.Andrew’s presence hadalways lifted his spirits.

His friend had theenviable capacity tothrowhimself,heartandsoul, intohiswork,andat the same time,appreciate theabsurdities of life. Hewas a very dedicatedman,AndrewMore,andwith his dark hair andthick eyebrows, couldappear intense andbrooding when involvedin untangling a legal

intricacy. But then,when his problem wasresolved and his frownsmoothedaway,hewentfrom looking like aGothic hero to alighthearted gypsy. Hehad always been awonderful foil to Giles’smore evenly serioustemperament.

“Ihavenotseenyouanywhere this Season,Andrew. In fact, your

mother was remarkinguponyourabsenceonlytheothernight.”

Andrewgroaned.“Somy mother sent youover todragmeoff toaballortwo?Sheandmyolder brother keephoping that if theyintroduce me to everyelderlyearl inneedofafamily lawyer, I willbecome respectable.They should know

better by now, Giles.And if they think anySociety mama is goingto let her daughterwithin ten feet of ayoungest son, they aremore foolish than Icouldhaveimagined.”

“Actually, I wasasking your motherabout you, Andrew. I’vemissed your company.And no, your familydidn’t send me. I am

here to ask your adviceand perhaps help in averyseriousmatter.”

At that moment theclerkknockedandcamein with a tray of coffeeand fresh rolls. “Putthemdownover ...well,wherever you can findthe room, Jepson.Thankyou.”

When the doorclosed again, Andrewpoured a cup for Giles.

“Here.NowthatIlookatyou, Icanseeyouneedthis. What is wrong,Giles?”

“JustinRainsborough was shotto death last night. Byhiswife.”

Andrew choked onhis coffee. “You arebamming me, Giles?Clare Dysart murderedher husband? Clare,whowouldn’tsaybooto

agoose?”Giles fingers

tightened around hiscuphandle.“Iknowyouwere never overly fondof Clare, Andrew,” hesaidstiffly.

“Ineverdislikedher,Giles. I just alwaysthought you needed astronger woman.Someonemorelikeyoursister.”

“One Sabrina is

enoughinanyone’slife!”“And she chose

Rainsborough over you.ThatwasanotherthingIconfess I have heldagainsther.”

“Well, she has paidfor itmore thananyoneshould,” said Giles, sogrimly that Andrew puthiscoffeecupdownandinstantlyresponded.

“I apologize, Giles.HereIambeingflippant

and unsympathetic.What do you need ofme?”

“I need you todefendClare.”

“Has she beencharged?Arrested?”

Giles hesitated. “Notas far as I know. Notformally, anyway. Thereare two Runners at thehouse, and it is clearthat she will not beallowed to leave. Not

that she is in anyconditionto.”

“That is good news.Did she confess to themurder?”

“She didn’t have to.Evidentlyshewasfoundstanding overRainsborough’s bodybrandishing a poker,terrified that she hadn’tkilledhim.”

“Butshehad?”

“Clare shot him intheheadandchestwithhisownduelingpistols.”

Andrew lifted hiseyebrows.“ThenIguessthereisnowaytomakethe argument that shethought he was anintruder?”

“Hardly.”“And why are you

coming to me, Giles,and not her father?” he

askedquietly.“Clare’s father

doesn’t know anyoneinvolved in criminallaw.” Giles hesitated.“AndIfeelresponsible.”

“Howso?”“It seems ...

evidently Rainsboroughwas not doting butinsanely jealous andcontrolling. And violent,very violent. Sabrinaand I had been worried

about Clare. She haspulled away fromeveryone. I insisted onseeing her alone at thePetershams’ ball, eventhough she didn’t wantto. I think that set thewholethingoff.”

And, of course, youstill love her, thoughtAndrew, looking over athis friend’s set, closedface.

“From what little

Sabrinacouldgather,hehas been”— Gilesswallowed hard—”beating Clare for atleast a year. Perhapslonger. We really don’tknow. She was beatenlast night. Sabrina hasseen her. Surely youcould argue self-defense?”

“It is a very trickycase, Giles. After all, aman has the right to

beathiswife.”“But surely not to

killhiswife,Andrew.”“We would have to

show that she was inreal fear for her life,Giles.Notaneasythingtodo.”

“Andifyoucan’t?”“IfIcan’t...”Andrew

letthewordshangtherebetweenthem.

Giles shuddered.“Surely she would not

hang, Andrew. Awoman?Acountess?”

“I am afraid shewouldbeluckytohang,Giles. The punishmentfor a servant who killshismasterorawifewhokillsherhusbandisthesame as for pettytreason:beingburnedatthestake.”

“What!”“Itisstillthelaw.Of

course,noonehasbeen

burned in the last fiftyyears or so. But thestatutestillexists.”

“Oh,myGod.Clare.”Giles buried his face inhishands.

Andrew stood upand put his hand onGiles’s shoulder. “I willdo what I can, Giles.The sooner I talk toClare,thebetter.”

“She was in shock,according to Sabrina.

Sheissleepingnow.”“I’ll come by this

afternoon,then.”Giles lifted his face.

“Thank you, Andrew. Ifanyonecandothis,youcan.”

“I will do my best.”Giles stood up to go.“AndGiles...”

“Yes?”“Clare’s father hired

me. Sabrina can visitClare and keep you in

touch. Iwill do so also.But you must stayaway.”

Giles started toprotest.

“I amnot concernedabout gossip, Giles. Oratleast,onlyinsomuchas it impinges on thecase. There can be nosuspicion of collusionbetweenyouandClare.”

“I see,” repliedGilesstiffly.

“For God’s sake,Giles, I know therewasno reason forRainsborough’sjealousy, man. I amtelling you this as alawyer.”

“Oh,God, Andrew, Ihopeyoucanhelpher.”

AndsodoI,thoughtMore as he watchedGilesleave.SodoI.

****Gilessentamessage

to Sabrina telling herthat he had spoken toAndrew and that thelawyerwould visitClarelater that afternoon. Heasked his sister to offerhis sympathy to Clareand explained why hecould not do so inperson.

When Sabrina readhis note, she frowned.Clare needed all thesupport she could get.

Why was Andrew MoretreatingGiles almost asthough he was a guiltyparty?

Clare had slept themorning and noontimeaway. When she finallyawoke, dull-eyed fromthe aftereffects of herevening and the rum,Sabrinawasnexttoher.

“Howareyoufeeling,mydear?”

Clare was puzzled

for a moment bySabrina’s presence.Justinwouldnot liketohave Sabrina Whittonby her bedside. Justinwouldbeangry,andshewould have to placatehim. Justin might startdrinking and ... Thensheremembered.Justinwas dead. Sabrina hadpromised her that. Shesank back against thepillows.

“Would you like acup of tea, Clare?Perhapssometoast?”

Clare nodded. Sherealized she was verythirsty, and when sheswallowed, her throathurt. She put her handup to her neck, asthough to hide thebruises when sherememberedwhy.

“Iknowwhathedid,Clare,” said Sabrina

softly.Clare let her hand

dropbackonthecovers.“I saw the bruises

lastnightwhenIhelpedyoubathe.Wasthiswhyyoukeptusallaway?”

Clare flushed andturned her face away.Aftertwoyearsofhidingit, now everyone wouldknow that Justin beather. That she had beenhelpless to stop him.

That somehow, shewasn’t surehow, itwasallherfault.

She winced as theback of her headtouched the headboard,and suddenly she sawJustin’s hands holdingher and banging herhead against themantel.Thenthescene,which had flashedsuddenlyintohermind,was gone. Surely that

had happened lastnight?Shecouldfeelthepressure of othermemoriespushinglikeariveragainsta lock,butshe was unable orunwilling, she wasn’tsure which, to releasethem.

What was Sabrinaasking her? Was thiswhy she had kept herfriends away? Howcould she answer that?

How could she possiblyexplain to anyone whatherlifehadbeenlike?

Sabrina patted herhand. “It is all right,Clare.Youdon’thavetosay anything. Here isLizawithsometea.”

Clare put all herattentiononthefamiliarritual. Would she likesugar? Yes. A piece oftoast? Thank you. Thefirst swallow hurt her

throat, but as the teabegantoworkitsmagic,shesavoredeachsip,asthough it were her firsttime tasting it. Perhapsit was only thestimulating effect of thetea, but somewheredeepinsideher,shewasbeginning to feel aliveagain in a way shehadn’tfortwoyears.

Sabrina had beensilent,butafterthecups

had been cleared, shesaid hesitantly: “Ireceived a note fromGiles, Clare. He hascalled on an old schoolfriend.AndrewMore.”

Clare was puzzled.WhywasSabrinatellingher something soinconsequential?

“Do you rememberhisname?”

Clare shook herhead.

“He is the youngestson of the Earl ofCollinworth. Brother toLord Avery. He is abarrister.”

So Giles had calledon an old friend, abarrister and sent anotetoSabrinawhowassitting here by herbedside to tellher that?Clare knew there wassome meaning in this,something to do with

her, but she couldn’tquite make theconnection.

Sabrina had beenhoping that mentioningAndrew would be self-explanatory. That Clarewould understand whyGiles was sending him.But she could see fromthe questioning look onher face that Clare wasstillataloss.

“Clare,” she said

quietly but firmly, “youwere found standingover Justin, terrifiedthat he was still alive.There is a Runnerdownstairs who is heretomake sure you don’tleave the house. Therewillhavetobesomesortof ... inquiry.” PleaseGod, it wouldn’t go totrial, prayed Sabrina toherself. “You will needlegaladvice.”

The river waspushing hard againstthe lock—so hard thatClare felt she would besweptawayifanywaterwere released. Terriblethings had happened.Butshecouldn’tlookatthem.Notnow.Notyet.

“Please ... no,” shewhispered.

Sabrina grasped herhand. “Oh, Clare, hemust see you and find

outwhathappened.ButI will stay with you,dear, and send himaway if it gets tobe toomuch.”

****Andrew More was

not looking forward tohis meeting with Clare.Hehadmethertwiceonsummer visits to theWhittons while Gilesand hewere on holidayfrom university, and

despite his friend’sobvious love for her, hehad been unimpressed.Clare had seemed niceenough, and certainlypretty enough, but shelacked a certainsomething ... energy,personality ... Andrewcouldn’t quite put hisfingeronit.Ofcourse,itcould have been onlythat she was notSabrina.

It had been a cool,cloudy morning whenGiles had visited hischambers.Ithadturnedinto a clear, warm day,and Andrew, who hadchosen to walk to theRainsboroughs’ townhouse, was hot andsweaty by the time hearrived.

The butler hadobviously beenexpecting him, and it

onlytookafewminuteswiththeRunners,whomAndrewknewquitewell,to establish that hewouldlikelybeactingasClare’s counsel andneeded to interview herprivately.

“You may tell LadyRainsborough herlawyer’s here,” said oneof the Runners to anobviously annoyedPeters. It was galling to

the butler to have hisauthority diminished,but he could hardlychallenge an officer ofthelaw.

A fewminutes later,PetersadmittedSabrinainto the drawing room,where Andrew waswaiting.

“Sabrina, it isdelightful to see youagain,” said Andrew,standingassheentered.

“I did not realize youwerestillhere.”

“Thank you forcoming so quickly,Andrew. Please sitdown.”SabrinahadonlyseenAndrewafewtimesthis Season, and theflicker of attraction thatwasalwaysactivatedbyhis presence made hernotice, almost withoutherwanting to, thewayhis hair was damply

curlingattheends,andthe odd way hiseyebrows drew togetherwhen he was intentuponsomething.

“Is LadyRainsboroughavailable?”

“Shedoesn’twanttoseeyou,Andrew.She isin a very vulnerablestate. I am sorry foryourtrouble,butIthinkitbestifyoucomeback

inafewdays.”“Afewdays?Inafew

daystheywillbeholdinga coroner’s inquest,Sabrina. Whether shewants to or not, yourfriend needs to talk tome.Andshewasnotsofragile last night, wasshe?”

Sabrina looked atAndrew in amazement.“I beg your pardon,Andrew, did Giles not

tell you of thesituation?”

“He told me LadyRainsborough shot herhusband with his owndueling pistols.”Andrew’s tone softened.“He also toldme that itseemspossibleitwasinself-defense.”

“Clare had beenbrutally beaten. And itiscleartomethatitwasnotforthefirsttime.”

“The law allows aman to beat his wife,Sabrina.”

“Ifyouareonlyhereto quote the law to meand Clare, then youmightaswellleaverightnow,” Sabrina said,furious at hisinsensitivity.

“I am a lawyer,Sabrina,so it isnaturalformetoquotethelaw,”said Andrew, with a

devilish twinkle in hiseye.“Iamonlytryingtopoint out to you thatLady Rainsboroughneeds to convince thecoroner’s jury and thecoronerthat,despitehisrights under law, shehad reason enough todefend herself from herhusband’s attacks.Under law, a wife isessentially herhusband’sproperty,and

hecandowhathelikeswith his own, if I maytake the part of thedevil’s advocate for amoment, and expresssociety’sviewofthings.”

“Clare is the onewhoneedsanadvocate,not that devil of ahusband of hers,Andrew.”

“Well, yes, that is,after all, what I havebeen saying. I must

question herimmediately, no matterhow painful thatprocessisforher.”

Sabrina sighed. “Allright. But she is in noconditiontocomedown.Iwilltakeyouup.”

Just outside ofClare’s door, Sabrinaturned and whispered,“Idon’tknowifyouwillbe able to get anythingoutofher,Andrew.She

thoughtJustinwas stillalive and able to comeafterheragain.Iamnotsure just what sheremembers about lastnight.”

****Clarehadputonher

silk wrapper and madeher way stiffly andpainfullytothechairbyher window. Shenervously pulled thewrapper tighter when

Sabrina entered,bringing Andrew Moreintotheroom.Gileshadsenthimtohelpher,soshe supposed shemustsee him, but what shecould tell him, shedidn’tknow.

ChapterFifteenAndrew had seen

Clare a few times thisSeason and had, likeothers,noticedhowthinshehad gotten.Nowhewas shocked at herappearance.Shewassopalethatthebruisesonher face looked almostworsethantheywere,ifthat were possible. Hermouth looked lopsided

because of her swollenlips, and when shegreeted him almostinaudibly, he could tellitwasphysicallypainfulfor her to talk. He wasso filled with pity thatall his previous dislikeofher fellaway,andforthefirsttimesinceGileshadapproachedhim,hefelt like he wanted todefendher.

Sabrina had called

for a tray of lemonade,and it arrived almostimmediately.Aftera fewmoments ofcommonplacesexchanged betweenSabrinaandhimself, asthey sipped andwatched Clare ignoreher glass, AndrewthankedSabrinaforhercompany, but asked ifshe would leave LadyRainsborough alone

with him for a fewminutes.

SabrinaprotestedasClare liftedherhandasthough to grab herfriend.

“Clare wishes me tostay.”

“I understand that,”said Andrew kindly.“But if I am to defendher, I must establish arelationship with hermyself. I need you to

leave,” he repeatedfirmly.

“I do not wish toleave, Andrew. I cannotleave her to beinterrogatedwithoutanysupport.” Sabrina wasfurious that he wouldevensuggestit.

“Then I can donothing here,” saidAndrew, starting to getup.

Sabrina was just

opening her mouth todeliver a cutting set-downwhenClarespoke.

“No.” She put outher hand to Andrew.“No, you can stay. Imust do this. You cango,Sabrina.”

Sabrina could seethatittookallofClare’scouragetosaythis.Howcould Andrew More notsee it.Clareneededherfriend, not a possibly

unsympatheticbarrister.

“Idon’twanttoleaveyoualone,Clare.”

Clare was silent fora moment and thenlaughed softly. “Justinis dead, Sabrina. I cansafely talk to a manalone or in company,without being afraid. Iwill be all right, Ipromiseyou.”

****

After Sabrina hadgone, Andrew handedClare her glass oflemonade. “Here, drinkthis, LadyRainsborough.Youneedyourstrength.”

Clare sipped slowly,wincingabitasthetartliquid hit her cut lip.But she was thirstierthanshehadrealized.

“IfIamtobeabletodefend you, I need to

know exactly whathappened last night,LadyRainsborough.”

Clare could feel thepressure again. “I don’tthink I can remember,Mr.More.”

“Why don’t we startearlier in the evening,then. You attended thePetershamball?”

Clarenodded.“With your

husband?”

“Yes.”“Had you quarreled

or had anydisagreement earlierthatday?”

“No...notreally.”“Tellmeaboutit.”“Well, Giles had

called on me thatafternoon. But I senthim away,” Clarehastenedtoadd.“Justinmet him as he wasleaving and was ...

upset.”“Upset?”“Justinsometimesis

... was jealous if I payany attention to othermen.”

“Anddidyou?”“Did I what?” asked

Clare with a puzzledlookonherface.

“Pay attention toother men. Or morespecifically,toGiles?”

Clare was taken

abackbyMore’stone.Itsounded almost hostileand reminded her ofJustin. “Sometimes Ismiledandlaughedwithsomeone.Butthatisall.And I purposely didn’tsee Giles thatafternoon.”

“But your husbandwas jealous. And youaresaying therewasnobasis for it?” Andrew’svoice was gentler. She

was confessing to asmile or laugh asthoughitwereadultery.Just what hadRainsborough done toher,hewondered.

“Justinwasadotinghusband. He didn’t likeit when anyone spentmuch timewithme.Orif it looked like I wasenjoying another man’scompany. He wasespecially sensitive

aboutGiles.Becausewewere almost betrothedbeforeImetJustin.”

“Yes, I remember.So,yousentGilesawayand then you and yourhusbandquarreled.”

“No,” said Clare,shaking her head.“Justin apologized forhis suspicions. And Ireminded him”—Clarefrownedasshebegantoremember—”I reminded

him that he had beenplanning to visit withDr.Shipton.”

“Dr.Shipton?”Clare lowered her

eyes. “The doctor hashad some success inhelping people reducetheir dependence onlaudanum. Justinthought hewould see ifhe could help himovercome a certaindependenceonspirits.”

“Lord Rainsboroughdranktoomuch?”

“Notallthetime.Hecould abstain for weeksat a time. But when hediddrink,then...”Clarefoldedherhandsacrossherstomach.

“Whenhedrank?”“That was when he

would get jealous.Accuse me of terriblethings ...” Her voicetrailedoff.

“Hityou?”She nodded. “I was

sohopefulwhenhefirstmentionedDr.Shipton.”

“I understand. Youloved your husband,LadyRainsborough?”

Clare’s eyes filledwith tears. “I loved himvery much. Once.” Thelast word was almostinaudible, and Andrewalmostmissedit.

“Once?”

“Idon’tknowifIstillloved him. You see, itwas almost like livingwith two husbands: theJustin who loved me,andtheJustinwhobeatme. At first it was theJustin who loved methatI livedwithmostofthetime.Butlately...”

“Forhowlong?”“ForatleastayearI

havewondered if Ihavebeen going mad. If I

could trust my ownperceptions. Becausethe time he was notdrinkingbecameshorterand shorter. I washaving a hard timeremembering theJustinwhom I had loved.”Clare paused and thencontinued slowly andpainfully. “But then hewould be there again,for a short time, and ofcourse, I still loved

him.”“Let us go back to

yesterday, LadyRainsborough,” saidAndrew as he watchedClaretwistingherhandstogether harder andharder. “You were inharmony with oneanotherbythetimeyouleft?”

Clarenodded.“Did anything

happenattheball?”

“Justin and Idanced. Then he wentinto the card room. Isawhimwithaglassofchampagne, but I washoping he would haveonly one. It was all myfault,” she said in anagonizedwhisper.

“Whatwas?”Andrewasked gently. Whatcould she possibly havedone to merit such abeating?

“Giles asked if hecouldseemealone.Ilethim convince me to beprivate with him. Ithought Justin wasplayingcards. I thoughtwewouldbeoutofthere... that he wouldn’t seeus.”

“And what did Gileshavetosaytoyou?”

“Thatmy fatherhadaskedhimtospeakwithme.Thatmyfamilyand

friends were concernedaboutmyhealth.”

“And did you tellhim about your ...troubles?”

“Oh, God, of coursenot,” said Clarevehemently. “Ihavetoldno one. What couldanyone do, especiallyGiles?"

“Perhaps someonecould have challengedLordRainsboroughwith

hisbehavior?”At the word

challenge,Clareputherhandtoherforehead.

“Are you in pain,LadyRainsborough?”

“No. Yes. It is justthatIcan’tletitthrough...”

Andrew reached outfor her other hand andheld it loosely in hisown.“Howdoyouknowthat your husband saw

thetwoofyou?”“He made me leave

early. He made hisusualaccusations.”

“Whichyoudenied?”Clare pulled her

handfromAndrew’sandlaughed mirthlessly. “Ihave always deniedthem. As quietly andcalmly as I could. Inever let myself bedrawn into a quarrel.The few times in the

beginningwhen Idid, itonly made thingsworse.” She continuedin a level voice thatsounded to Andrew asthough she weresomewhere else.“Sometimes, if you arequiet enough, he willstop.”

“Stop what, LadyRainsborough,” Andrewaskedveryquietly.

“Stophittingyou.Or

kickingyou.”“Did he hit you last

night?”The river was

swelling, swirling,pushing against herbrain. The lockwouldn’t, couldn’tpossibly hold it. Claremoaned. Oh, God, thewaterwas rushingover,and she was beingcarriedalongwithit.

“Did he hit you last

night, LadyRainsborough?” Andrewkept his voice as softand even andexpressionless aspossible.

“Yes, yes. I kepttelling him nothing hadhappened. I promisedhim I would never seeGiles again.He said if Ipromised, he wouldn’tchallengehim.”

“How did he hityou?”

“Oh,asusual,”Claresaid with a tired smile.“Myface.Hebangedmyhead against themantel.”

“Didhekickyou?”“Oh, yes,” Clare

said, almost matter-of-factly. “That usuallyendedit.Butsomethinghad changed thesepastfewweeks.He...”

“Yes?”“He had started

choking me. I thoughthewas going to killmethis time. And he tookout his pistols. I didwhat he asked: Iadmittedwewerelovers,Isaid IwouldneverseeGiles again. I wouldhave said anything tokeep him fromchallenging Giles. Butthen, he said he was

going to kill meanyway.”

“But you said therewas nothing betweenyouandGiles?”Andrewkepthisvoiceinnocentlypuzzled.

“Don’t youunderstand?” saidClare, suddenlystandingup. “Don’t youunderstand?Hesaidhewould challenge Giles.He would have killed

him. Giles, who hadneverdoneanythingbuttry to help me. Wholoved me. Who was mydearest friend. I wouldhave said anything. Iwould have admitted toanything to preventthat. Justin promisedthat if I admitted to it,that this would neverhappenagain.”

“What?”“Thebeating.Buthe

tricked me. He put hispistoltomyhead...andI...” Clare was backingaway from Andrew, notseeing him, seeingJustin. “I hit him withthecandlestickfromthedesk.”

“Didn’t that stophim?”

“He started to getup,” said Clare, lookingdown as though sheagainsawherhusband.

“Hewasgettingup,andIrememberedthepistol,and I walked right intohis arms, and I shothim.”

Clare was shakingviolently from head tofoot,andAndrewstartedtoapproachherslowly.

“Don’t you come nearme,” she said. Hestopped.“Hemoved.Hisarmmoved, so I picked

up the other pistol andput it to his head. Butthen I was so afraid hewasn’t dead, that hewould kill me and thenGiles after all ...” Shetook a long, deep,shuddering breath andthensaidcalmly,almostlike a child who hasbeen comforted after anightmare:“ButSabrinatoldmethatheisdead.”

“Lord Rainsboroughis indeed dead, LadyRainsborough,” saidAndrewreassuringly.

Clare stood there,and her body graduallybecame still. She liftedher eyes to Andrew.“Then I killed myhusband, didn’t I, Mr.More?”

“Iamafraidso,LadyRainsborough.”

****

Sabrina had gonedown to the library,hoping to findsomething to read thatwouldkeephermindoffClare, but she hadforgottenthatthelibrarywasoff-limitsforanyonebuttheRunners,andsoshesettledherselfinthemorningroom.Thatwaswhere Andrew foundher, pacing back andforth, unable to settle

foraminute.“Sabrina.”She turned, and

Andrew could see fromthe expression on herface that she was stillangrywithhim.

“How is she? I hopeyou have not upset hertoomuch?Iwillgorightuptoher.”

Andrew caught herarm just as she wasabout to rush past.

“Lady Rainsboroughneedsherrest,Sabrina.Andsometimealone.”

Sabrina tried toshrug his hand off herarm. “Let go of me,Andrew. She needs afriendnearher.”

“Soon, I agree, butnot this moment. Ibelieve she needs toabsorb what happenedtoher.”

“Does she

remember, then?”Sabrinaasked,givinginand lettingAndrew leadherovertothesofa.

“Yes,Iamafraidshedoes.”

“What do you mean‘afraid,’Andrew?”

“Had she continuedin a state of shock, theamnesia coupled withher rank might havegiven me a chance todeclareher incompetent

to testify. I could havebrought witnessesforward who wouldattest to her physicalcondition andmade theargument that she wasout of her mind withterror and didn’t reallyknow what she wasdoing.Butnow...”

“But now?” Sabrinarepeated.

“She is competentenough to take the

stand. And she doesremembereverything.”

“But surely Justinhad terrorized her?Surely she was onlydefendingherself.”

“Oh, I believe that.The question is, can Iget a coroner’s jury tobelieveit.Shekilledherhusband,andshediditknowingly. She couldhave stopped with the

blow to his head. Butsheshothimtwicewithhisownpistols.”

“She was stillterrifiedwhenIgothere,Andrew. Afraid that hewas still alive. Surelythatshowsthatshewasbesideherselfwithfear?Andherfaceandthroat...thebruises.”

“Yes, well, they willbe almost gone by thetime of the inquest. We

will have to rely oneyewitnesses.Thebutler...herabigail.”

“Myself,” saidSabrinamatter-of-factly.

“Surelyyouwouldn’twant the notoriety?Sabrina.”

“Surely I wouldn’twant my good friendconvictedofmurder!”

Andrew smiledwarmly at her, andSabrinafeltastirringof

pleasure at hisapproval. His browneyes could change soquickly, from beingintent and concentratedto softening withaffection.Nonsense,shechided herself. He hadnoaffectionforher.Whyshould he? He hardlyknew her. And he hadtreated her more high-handedly than anyonebutGilesdaredto!

“I don’t think therewill be any need forthat. I hope there willnot.OrforGiles.”

“Giles?”“Yes. He could

confirm her story thatshe turned him awayfrom an afternoon visit.And that the onlyreason he sought herout at the ball was toinquire after herhealth.”

“Surely, no onewould believe anythingelse?”

“Her husband did.And there are peoplewho would sympathizewith a jealous husbandoveraprotestingwife.”

“Butwehavehardlyseen Clare these lasttwoyears.”

“I know. And thatwill count forsomething. But the law

is on JustinRainsborough’sside.”

“The law allows ahusband to murder hiswife!” Sabrina saidfuriously.

“No, of course not.But the prosecutingcounselorcanmake theargument that her lifewas not truly indanger.”

Sabrina sat quietlyfor a moment. “Do you

think you can win,Andrew?”

“Iamgoingtodomydamnedest!” he saidwiththequirkygrinthatgavehimagypsylook.

ChapterSixteenGiles had never felt

so helpless. He wantednothingmorethantobewith Clare. She neededhim, now more thanever. Who else couldgive her the courage toface what was beforeher?And all because ofAndrew’s ridiculousprecautions, he wasbeingkeptaway.

Giles had been sosure these past twoyears that his love forClare had changed.Recently, he hadseriously beenconsidering marryingLucyKirkman. Shewasattractive, an enjoyablecompanion, and wouldhave made him anundemanding wife. Shewanted him, and heknew their marriage

would also have beenphysically satisfying.Andheneededanheir.

Now the very ideaseemed ridiculous. Hehad been lying tohimself all along. Well,perhaps not lying.Perhaps he could havemarried Lucy and beenhappy, had Clare trulybeeninthemarriagehesupposed her to have.But to find out that

Rainsborough had beenabusing her. That shehad had to bear it allalone.Alltheoldfeelingcame rushing back.Clare was his love, theoneandonlyonehehadeverwantedtoenfoldinhisarmsandkeepsafe.And for now, the onlyway to keep her safe,according to Andrew,was to stay away fromher.Hedidn’tknowifhe

could bear thefrustration.

****WhenAndrewfinally

called, Giles was soeager tohearhis reportthat he quite forgothimself as a host. Afterthey sat down in thelibrary, and Andrewlookedoverathisfriendand said, with aquizzical smile, “Aren’tyou going to offer me

anything to drink,Giles? Tea? Sherry,Andrew?’”HemimickedGiles’s even tonesperfectly.

“I apologize. I havebeenbesidemyself.Tea?Sherry, Andrew?” herepeatedwithasmile.

“Sherry would beperfect,Giles.”

Giles rang and hadthe footman bring thema decanter and a plate

ofbiscuits.Andrew sipped the

sherry slowly andappreciatively. It hadbeen a hard afternoon.He had had some grimcases in the past, butnothingthathadturnedhis stomach like thisone. He was notcompletely against anoccasional blow. Hewasn’t the sort who

wouldeverdoit,buthecouldunderstandhowamanmight be driven toit by a certain kind ofwoman. Itseemedtobehuman nature that thestrong sometimes hurtthe weak: parents beattheir children, masterstheirservants.Hedidn’tlikeit,hedidn’tapproveof it, he wouldn’t do it,butifitwaskeptwithinbounds, he was able to

live with it. After all,peoplepaidgoodmoneyto watch professionalpugilists go at it forhours. It wasn’t his cupoftea,butthereitwas.

But Clare Dysart,Lady Rainsborough. Asweet, harmless youngwomanwho had clearlynever looked at anotherman.Fromjustthelittleshe had revealed, and

he was sure he hadn’theardeverything,hefeltsick to his stomach.There had beenmadness in JustinRainsborough, andunfortunately, societyand the law gave himtherighttoexpressit.

Andrew finallylookedoveratGiles,hisbrows knitted togetherand Giles said quietly:“Thatbad?”

“Notgood,Giles.Notgood.”

“What happened?Were you able to get acoherentstory?”

“Oh, yes. It seemsLord Rainsborough hasbeen beating his wifethese past two yearswith increasingregularity.”

Giles buried hisheadinhishands.

“Lastnight, or tobe

more accurate, thesepast few weeks, it hadescalated. Evidently hehad threatened to killher several times whilehe choked her almostinsensible. Last nightshe believed he trulymeanttodoit.Andthencall you out and killyou.”

“Me!”“It seems

Rainsborough was

beyond reason, jealousofanyattentionspaidtohis wife, especiallyyours.”

“But I have hardlyseen Clare,” Gilesprotested.

“Yet you called onheryesterdayandspokewithherprivatelyatthePetersham ball. Thatwas more than enoughto set him off. He

threatened to kill her ifshe didn’t admit youwere lovers and then tochallengeyoutoaduel.He was a crack shot, Iunderstand?”

“Clare denied it, ofcourse?”

“For a while. Butthen he promised tostop the torture if sheadmitted you had beenintimate and gave herword never to see you

again.Soshedid.”Gilesgroaned.“He put a pistol to

her head, and she hadenough courage ...”Andrew looked over atGileswithanexpressionof wonder mixed withadmiration. “I don’tknow where she got itfrom, Giles. And of allwomen, Clare. She hithim over the head withabrasscandlestick.Had

shestoppedthere...”“Had she stopped

there,” said Giles,almost spitting thewords out, “had shestopped there he wouldbe alive to do it again.She might well havebeendeadbytheendofthe Season,” he addedwonderingly.

“Yes, perhaps youare right. At any rate,sheshothimtwicewith

hisownduelingpistols.”Giles looked

horrified. It was onething to be glad Clarehad defended herself. Itwas another to imaginethedetails.

“She likely wouldhave shot him again,Giles,”saidAndrewwithan ironicgrin, “hadsheknown how to reload.Shewasn’tconvincedhewas dead until Sabrina

went down to see thebodyandreassureher.”

“Oh, God. I shouldhave been there,Andrew.”

“No, you shouldn’t.The worst thing in theworld formycase is foryou to involve yourself.No, you must letSabrina act the friendforbothofyou.”

“Idon’tknowifIcanstand it. Clare needs

me.”Andrew thought to

himself that the lastthing intheworldClareneededat this timewasaman,oldfriendornot,but he kept histhoughtstohimself.

“She is all right,Giles,Ipromiseyou.”

“You will doeverything you can?Spare no expense,Andrew. I will assume

thecosts.”“The Marquess of

Howland will assumethe costs, Giles,”Andrew reminded himdryly.

“Yes,ofcourse.”“I will have to

question the servants.Herabigail.”

“Liza is relativelynew, you know,” saidGiles thoughtfully. “Infact,nowthatIthinkof

it, I wouldn’t besurprised ifRainsborough hadMarthadismissed.”

“Martha?”“Her former abigail

wasMarthaBarton.”“Hmm. Well, I will

try to find this Martha.The more eyewitnessesto her husband’streatment of her, thebetter.”

“Can you win,

Andrew?”“I will do my best,

Giles.”****

Andrewwentdirectlyfrom the Whittons’ toClare’s father and toldhim all. The marquessseemedtoagefiveyearsas he listened to hisdaughter’sordeal.

“I know it issomehow our fault,” hetoldAndrew.“Shewasa

late arrival, a surprise,actually. We did notquite know how to dealwith her. It was asthoughwehadforgottenwhat a young childneeded.” He was silentforamomentortwo.“Itwaswhywesenther tothe Whittons. Sheneeded young peoplearound her. If only shehad married Giles. Hadnever met

Rainsborough. Why didshe never tell us whathewasdoingtoher?”

“She seems to havefelt hopeless thatanyone on the outsidecould help her. And, atthe same time, hopefulthat thesituationmightchange, thatRainsborough would goback to being the manshemarried.”

“They seemed so

happy together. Theywerenotoriousforbeingin one another’spockets.”

“Yes, well evidentlythe doting husbandturned into a violentlyjealous one under theinfluence of spirits,”said Andrew. “You willnot be hearing a verypretty story at theinquest,Iamafraid,mylord.”

“Canyouhelpher?”“If you wish me to

take the case, I will domy best. Much willdependonClare’sabilitytotellherstory.Andonany witnesses I canfind.”

“If Giles called youin, then I am sure youare the best for mydaughter,” said themarquess with a sadsmile. “Please spare no

expenseoreffort.”“Thank you, my

lord.Iknowaverygoodsolicitor who willpreparethecase,buthecomes high. I do needsome information fromyou.”

“Anything.”“Clare’s former

abigail was a womancalledMartha?”

“Ah, yes. Martha. Ialways wondered why

she was let go. Clarewasveryfondofher.”

“I would guess thatRainsboroughdismissedher because she wasequally fond of Clare.ButIwon’tknowuntilIfind her. Have you anyidea how I could? WasshehiredinLondon?”

“She was from thecity, and I think shereturned here shortlyafter she was

dismissed.”Andrew frowned.

“Did she stay inservice?”

“I think so, but letme askmywife’smaid.She was the one whorecommendedMarthatous years ago and maystill be in touch withher.”

Andrew rose. “Don’tbother to get up, mylord. I will see myself

out.Pleasesendmeanyinformation that youmay obtain on Marthaassoonasyoucan.”

“Of course. AndMr.More?”

“Yes?”“Thankyou.”“Don’tthankmeyet,

my lord,” repliedAndrew.

****Ittooktwodaysand

a hired Runner to find

Martha Barker, nowworking as a parlormaid in the Winstonhousehold. While hewas waiting, Andrewhad his solicitorinterview both Petersand Liza about thestatus of theRainsborough marriage.At first they were bothreluctant to speak, andeven when they did,clearly were of the

opinion that howeverdistressing LordRainsborough’streatment of his wifehad been, it had beennone of their business.Indeed, any commentsor interference wouldhavemeanttheirjobs.

Andrewwentbacktothe Rainsborough townhouse for anotherinterview with Clare.She was beginning to

look better physically:thebruiseswere fading,and her mouth wasback to normal. Sheeven had a little bit ofcolorinhercheeks.Butshe was very subduedand unwilling to speakabout her marriage. “Itis all over now,” shewhispered, her eyes onthefloor.“SurelyifItellthe coroner about thatlast night, it will be

enough.”She didn’t

comprehend her dangerat all, thought Andrew.And he wasn’t sure hehad the heart to pushher so soon after herordeal. Yet if he didn’t,hewasn’tsurehecouldgetthecoroner’s jurytoacquit her. And if thecase went to trial, shehad even less of achancetogetoff.

On his way out, hewasstoppedbySabrina,who was just comingfrom a morning ride.Shehadmoved into thetown house “for theduration” as she put it,notwantingClare to bealone.

“Andrew!” sheexclaimedinsurprise.

“Good morning,Sabrina.” Sabrinalooked everything that

Clare didn’t: healthy,glowing, vibrant, andenergetic.Theseverecutof her riding habit onlymade her contrastingcurves more noticeable,andAndrewexperiencedthe same stirring ofattraction that healways felt in herpresence.

“Willyouhaveacupof tea with me and tellmeaboutyourprogress,

Andrew?”Andrew hesitated

andthenagreed.“Do you mind

waitingwhileIchange?”“Notatall,Sabrina.”

****When she came

back down, itwashardto keep his face blankandtheappreciationoutof his eyes. She wasdressed in a simpleround gown of deep

burgundy thatcomplemented both hercomplexion and hereyes.

“Come sit down,Andrew. I will pour.”She suited action towords and handed himacupoftea.

“I am afraid I havenot much to tell,although we have foundMartha and will be

calling on her thisafternoon.”

“Oh, thankgoodness,”saidSabrina.“She should be veryhelpful in your case,shouldn’tshe?”

“I hope so. PetersandLiza’stestimonywillnotdomuchforus.AndClare...”

“What aboutClare?”Sabrina askedprotectively.

“You are like alioness with her cub,Sabrina,” Andrewcommented withappreciativehumor.

“She needsprotection,” repliedSabrina.

“Perhaps not quiteso much,” Andrew saidthoughtfully, after amoment. “She is agrown woman after all.She made a free choice

tomarryRainsborough.”“You don’t

understand, Andrew.Clare has always calledupon my protectiveinstincts. And Giles’s.EspeciallyGiles’s.”

“Well, neither younor Giles can protecther from this, Sabrina,”said Andrew finally.“Shewillhavetotellherstory toa juryof twelvemen who will be

convinced that herhusbandwascompletelywithin his rights tochastiseher.AndIcan’tget her to talk furtherabouthermarriage.”

“Isn’t telling themwhat happened theothernightenough?”

“Frankly, no. Itcould be seen as anaberration: ‘Dotinghusband becomesinsanely jealous after

wife’s tête-à-tête withex-lover.’”

“Giles and Clarewere never lovers,”protested Sabrina,incensed by thesuggestion.

“You and I knowthat, Sabrina. But willthe coroner’s jurybelieve it? No, howeverpainful it is,Claremustgivethewholehistoryof

her marriage. And itwould help meenormouslyifyouwouldsupport her in thisinsteadofhoveringoverher protectively. Shekilled a man, my lady.However justifiable, itwasamurder.”

Sabrina’s faceflushedwithanger.“Itiseasyforyoutospeakso,Andrew.Youareaman.You do not become

someone’s propertyuponmarryinghim.”

“Is that why youhave never married,Sabrina?” he askeddryly.

“I have nevermarried ... it is none ofyour business why Ihave never married,”shereplied,furiouswithhim. “You do not knowClareaswedo.”

“No, I do not,” he

admittedinsoftertones.“Nor do I know what itwouldbe like tobe inawoman’s shoes. Butdespite the law,Sabrina, we both knowwomen and men wholive in very happymarriages. Yourparents, for one. Mine.Yes, the law protectedJustin Rainsborough,but surely he is anaberration.”

“Perhaps. Butperhaps he was anextremeexampleofhowa man can abuse thepower he has over awoman.”

“I cannot single-handedly change thelaw,Sabrina. Icanonlyworkwithinit.ButItellyou, I cannot defendClare Rainsborough ifshe is not willing tospeak of her last two

years. I would adviseyou that the way toprotect her, to be herfriend, is to encourageher to speak.” Andrewrose.“Thankyouforthetea,mylady.Iamsorrythat all ourconversations seem toend in disagreementsabout LadyRainsborough.”

Sabrina said a coolgood-bye, and Andrew

left, wondering why,since theirdisagreements kept thedesired distancebetweenthem,hefeltsofrustrated.

****After Andrew had

gone, Sabrina foundherselfreconsideringhiswords. He was a mostannoying man, it wastrue, with little or nounderstanding of who

Clarewasandwhatshehad been through. Onthe other hand, he wasa good friend ofGiles’s,and,shemustpresume,a good lawyer or herbrother would not haverecommended him. Heknew the law and thecourts. Perhaps he wasright about Clare.Perhaps she didhave totell the whole story of

hermarriageinordertoprove her innocence.And if that were true,then she, Sabrina,should be encouragingher to cooperate withAndrew.

And so, whileAndrew’s solicitor wasinterviewing Martha,Sabrina spent theafternoon with herfriend, hoping that shecould discern whether

Clare was strongenough to do what shehadtodo.

Thetwowomenwerebent over embroidery,when Sabrina lookedover at Clare and said:“I spoke with AndrewMore this morning. Ifind him annoyinglyopinionated, but I dotrust him.What do youthinkofhim,Clare?”

Clare kept her eyes

on the Frenchknot shewas working and saidquietly: “Giles chosehim, so I must trusthim.Andmyvery life isin his hands,” sheadded.

“Perhapsitisalsoinyour own, Clare,”replied Sabrina, puttingher hand on Clare’sarm. “Andrew seems tothink that unless youare willing to speak of

your marriage from theearly days, you will notgain enough sympathyto get off. At first I wasannoyed at him, butnow I am not so surethatheiswrong.Isitsopainful to tell yourstory,Clare?”

Clare looked up ather friend. “There aresome things I just ... Ican’t imagine sayingtheminpublic.”

“Couldyoutellthemto me, Clare? Thatmight be a first step.”Sabrinaheldherbreath.

Clare pushed herneedle very carefullythrough the linen,completedherknot,andbit the thread off withherteeth.Reachingoverfor a small velvetpincushion, shedisposed of her needleand foldedupthesmall

squareofembroidery.She folded her

hands just as carefullyin her lap and said: “Iwill try, Sabrina.” Shesoundedcomposed.Shelookedcomposedunlessone noticed how herhands were folded overher belly, as though toprotect her most vitalparts.

“Tell me when allthis started,” Sabrina

asked. “You and Justinseemed so happytogether.”

“We were, at first.And even afterward, asstrange as that mayseem.” Slowly andhaltingly,Clarebegantotell Sabrina about thepast two years. Therewere times during herstory when Sabrinathought she wouldchoke on her own

horrified reaction, butshe sensed that anyresponse might silenceClare.

Atonepointshefeltliterally nauseated andhad to breathe slowlyand intentionally inordernottoretch.Therewas nothing to say attheendexcept,“Clare,Iam so sorry.” Shestarted to put her armsaround her friend, but

Clare stiffened at hertouch and Sabrinaimmediatelywithdrew.

“Iamsorry,Sabrina.If you do that, I mayjust lose my nerve. Itwas ... well, not good,exactly, but necessaryto tell someone. Mr.More was right. It willhavetobemadepublic.I thank you forlistening. I know itcouldn’t have been

easy.”“No,noitwasn’t.”“I suppose you are

wondering: why didn’tshe tell someone? Whydidn’t she leave? Howcould she have madelove to him again andagain after what he didtoher?”Clareasked.

“Why, no,” Sabrinastammered.

“You never were agoodliar,Sabrina.Ifind

it difficult to explainmyself. You see, whenJustin was himself, hewas the wonderful manI fell in love with. Hetruly was tender andlovingandpassionate.Itwas so easy to believethat the other Justinwouldn’tcomeback.Notthis time. Not after hispromises and tears andapologies. It is almost

like living in amadhouse, I suppose.”Clare paused. “You arealso probably thinking:“If only she’d marriedGiles.”

“I confess I havethought that over thepast few days,” Sabrinaadmitted.

“It is only natural. Isuppose I should have.ButIonlylovedGilesasa friend. A dear friend,”

Clare hastened to add.“Justin wakened a partof me that I hadn’tknown existed. Ofcourse,” she addedbitterly,“heawakeneditonlytotorturemeforit.Anyway, Giles deservessomeonewho loves himthe way I loved myhusband.”

“Yes, he does,”agreed Sabrina. “And Idon’t think it is Lucy

Kirkman.”“Lucyisverygoodat

gettingwhat shewants,Sabrina. But I am sureGilesknowsthat,”Clareaddedwithasmile.

“He does,” saidSabrina, throwing herhands up in mockdespair.

Clare sat for amoment and thenturningtoSabrina,saidquietly: “I think I will

have Mr. More comebacktomorrowmorning,Sabrina. I will tell himthe whole story andagree to repeat it at theinquest. Thank you foryourhelp.AndI think Iwill be all right alonefrom now on.” Shelaughed. “Hardly alone,I suppose, with aRunnerinthehouse.”

Sabrina protested,butClarewasadamant.

“Iwould love toseeyouafter Mr. More leaves,Sabrina, but you mustnotneglectyourlifejustto be with me. Youmustn’t miss anotherengagement.”

“Allright,Clare.ButI will be over tomorrowafter my ride, Ipromise.”

ChapterSeventeen

Timehadnevergone

soslowlyforGilesasthelast few days. All hewanted was to be withClare, to put his armsaround her, to let hercryoutallhergriefandfearonhisshoulder.Allhe got was quick visitswith Sabrina andAndrew, who kept

telling him that Clarewas doing very well. Sowhen Sabrina returned,obviously planning tostay, he pulled her intothe morning room andinsisted she sit downand give him a fullreport.

“You aren’tabandoning Clare, areyou?”heprotested.

“Clarewasverysurethatshewasreadytobe

alone, Giles,” answeredhis sister, “or else Iwouldn’t have left. Shewants me back incirculation, and she isprobably right. I intendto go to the Maxwells’tonight. What aboutyou?”

“I haven’t gone outsince this happened,Sabrina.”

“I know, Giles. Andthat means that the

gossipsarehavingafinetime with Clare’s story.And, no doubt, workingyouintoitaswell.”

“I hadn’t thought ofthat. Andrew’s advicewas to stay away fromClare. He didn’t addanything else to hisinstructions,” Gilesaddedsarcastically.

“Andrew More canbe a most annoyingman, I admit, but I

think we can trust himto take Clare throughthissafely.Ifinallygavein to his advice today,and found his counselwiserthanIthought.”

Giles looked over atherquestioningly.

“He believes thatClare must tell thewhole story of hermarriage in order toconvince the juryofherinnocence. Ididn’twant

himtomakeherdredgeitallup.”

“Indeed, sheshouldn’t have to,”protested Giles. “She’sgonethroughenough.”

“HepointedoutthatRainsborough’sbehaviorcouldhavebeenseenasa result of someprovocation. Given thelaw,well,Clareneedstoconvince the coronerand the jury that she

trulywas indanger ... Ilistened to her wholestory, Giles,” saidSabrina, her voicestrained.

“Tellmeall,Brina.”“I can’t Giles. It is

Clare’s story to tell, notmine. But it washorribletolistentowhatshewent through thesepasttwoyears.”

“Oh, God, if onlyshe’d never met him. If

only I hadn’t waited solongtoaskhertomarryme.”

“Oh, Giles, it hadnothing to dowith you.Clare lovedRainsborough in a wayshe didn’t love you,although I know this ispainfultohear.”

“I still love her, youknow,”saidGilessoftly.“ThemorefoolI.”

“Oh, Giles, I know,”

saidhissister, reachingout her hand andclaspinghis.“Anditcannever be foolish to lovesomeone, can it? Notthat Iwouldknow,”sheaddedhumorously.

“You have kept yourheart whole, haven’tyou, Brina?There hasbeen no one whom youhavewanted to share itwith,hasthere?”

“No, Giles. Perhapsit isbecauseIhavehadyou. There is suchsympathy andunderstanding betweenusthatIhavenotreallyfeltthelackofamaninmy life. I’ve had mytwin,” she added withanappreciativesmile.

Giles leaned overand gave her a quickhug.“Wearelucky.Butyou need more than a

brother,Sabrina.”“No doubt I will

settle for someone oneof these days,” she saidlightly.“Now,Iamgoingup for a rest before Itake on society forClare. You will comewith me to the balltonight?”

“Yes,my dear,” saidGileswithasmile.“Iwillescortyouintobattle.”

Indeed, Sabrina had

a very militant look inher eye when theyarrived at the Maxwellball.Shesoughtoutherclosestfriendswhowerefull of questions, butreluctant to ask them.Except, of course, LucyKirkman.

“Is it true, Sabrina,that Clare is under asort of house arrest?Therumorsareflyingsothick and fast that it is

hard to tell what is thetruth.”

Lady Julia Willefordexclaimed: “Lucy!” inhorroratherfrankness.

“Oh, Julia, don’tpretend you weren’tdying to ask. Come,Sabrina, tell us all youknow.”

“Lucy, you areincorrigible.” Sabrinalaughed. “Clare is, infact, confined to her

house, but as much torecover from her ordealasanythingelse.”

“Did she kill LordRainsborough,Sabrina?”askedLucy.“Ihave heard so manydifferent versions: thatshemistook him for anintruder, that shebrained him with apoker,andthatsheshothim with his ownduelingpistols.”

LadyJuliablanched.“Lucy, if you go on likethis, I am going tobecomeill.”

“Go right ahead,dear Julia,” repliedLucy. “You have heardall the same gossip Ihave, my dear, andseemtohavesurviveditupuntil now. Themostdisturbing rumor, ofcourse,isthatClareandGiles were lovers and

provoked Rainsboroughintoakillingrage.”

Lucy said this lastas lightly as she hadrepeated the otherrumors, but Sabrinaknew that this was theone she had beenleading up to, thequestion she reallywanted answered. Shewas surprised that sheactually felt sorry forLucy. Sabrina knew

Gileswouldnevermarryher now, although Lucywould not realize thatyet.

“Evidently JustinRainsborough was anunreasonably, perhapsone could say aninsanely jealoushusband,” Sabrinareplied. “He accusedClare of many thingsduring their marriage,noneofwhichweretrue.

And Giles has hardlyhad time to spare theselast few months, Lucy.After all, he has spentmuch of his time withyou.”

“Of course,” saidLucy, soundingcomplacent,butSabrinacould sense her relief.“And one could hardlysuspect little Clare ofinfidelity anyway, couldone?”

Sabrina spent a fewmore minutesconvincing her friendsthat when the truthemerged at the inquest,Clare would becompletely vindicated.Theyweresopleased tobe the first to hear the“real” story that sheknew she could counton them to start acounter-waveofgossip.

She danced several

dances with her usualfavorites. During hercountry-dance with herhost, shewas surprisedto see Andrew Morestanding on thesidelines, conversingwithGilesandhisolderbrother,LordAvery.Sheasked Maxwell to leadher over to them afterthemusicstopped.

“Good evening, LadySabrina,” said Lord

Avery. He was a taller,slightly more refined-looking version ofAndrew and someoneSabrinahadnever likedvery much. She mightfind Andrew Moreannoying,buthewasatleast a stimulatingcompanion. His brotherwas too concerned withthefamilynameandhisown importance forSabrina’sliking.

“Good evening, mylord. Good evening,Andrew. I am surprisedto see you here. Ithought you might beworking long hours toprepareforyourcase.”

“Ihavebeenworkingvery closely with mysolicitor, Sabrina, butyou know the oldsaying:‘Allworkandnoplay,’ ” replied Andrewinsouciantly.

“Iwas just speakingwith Andrew aboutthat,”saidLordAvery.“Icannot like him beinginvolvedinsuchacase.”

“You and the familyare always after me tofind a better class ofclient, Jonathan. I hadthought you would bepleased,” said Andrewwithmockinnocence.

“We hardly meantfor you to take on a

murder case, whetherthe murderess is acountessornot.”

“I know. You’drather I spent my timesorting out disputedfamilysettlements.”

“It is, for the son ofan earl, certainlypreferable to defendingcommoncriminals.”

“Lady Rainsboroughcan hardly be called a

common criminal,Jonathan.”

“Of course not,” hisbrother admitted. “Butto be involved evenperipherally with thisscandal is verydistressingtome.”

“I assure you,Jonathan, it is farmoredistressing for Clare,”said Andrewsarcastically.

“Of course, of

course. But I still wishyouweren’tinvolved.”

Andrewturnedawayfrom his brother toSabrina, raising hiseyebrows in a way thatexpressed all hisamusedfrustrationwithhis brother’s attitude.Shehadtoliftherfantoher face to hide hersmile.

“Do you by anychancehaveawaltzfree

tonight, Sabrina?” heasked.

Sabrina examinedher dance cardcarefully. Giles was herpartner for the nextwaltz,butshewassureher brother would notmindifshedancedwithhis friend. She glancedover at Giles with thequestion in her eyes,and he nodded almostimperceptibly. It was

something they bothtook for granted now,their ability tocommunicate withoutwords, and Sabrinawondered if she wouldever find anyone withwhomshecouldhaveasnatural an intimacy aswithhertwin.

“I have the nextwaltzfree,Andrew.”

“And they are aboutto strike it up,” said

Andrew with a smile.“Come, letusnot loseaminuteofit.”

****Sabrina had danced

withAndrewMoreuponmanyoccasionsovertheyears, and sheremembered him as anaverage dancer. Thisevening, however, wasdifferent. She felt shehad never been so atone with the music or

theman who partneredher. They didn’t speakmuch. Itwasas thoughthey were both caughtup in anotherdimension, one whereeverysmallmovementofhis hand around herwaistandher fingers inhis became a source ofpleasure. Sabrinarealized that every cellin her body was awareof Andrew in a most

disturbing but alsointriguingway.

When the musicstopped, they both feltthey had been droppedback into everydayconsciousnessandweresuddenly embarrassedand ill at ease. Andrewescorted Sabrina backto her brother andmuttering his apologiesfor leaving early, leftalmost immediately,

withoutevenanattemptatpoliteconversation.

And when Sabrinaglanced over to Giles,hoping for that instantunderstanding, hemerely looked at herquestioningly as if tosay: “Yes, Sabrina, isthere something that isbotheringyou?”She feltvery empty and bereft,andforoneoddmomentrealizeditwasthelovely

oneness with Andrewshewasmissingandnotthe lack ofcommunication withGiles. But that wasridiculous, sheimmediatelytoldherself.Andrew More hadnothingincommonwithher brother or herself.ExceptforhisdefenseofClare.

****The morning of the

inquest arrived all tooquickly for those mostconcernedandnotatalltoosoon for thoseofallclasses who hoped towatch that very rarething: the possibility ofapeeressbeingchargedwithmurder.

It had beenunseasonablywarmandhumid the past twodays and when Clareawoke, she felt like the

weather matched hermood: heavy,oppressive, andenergyless. The smellsof London, whichusually blew by one,hung heavy in thenostrils, but it was toohot to close herbedroomwindows.

She had to wearblack, of course, whichmade it even worse, fortheonlyblackdressshe

owned was of a heavytwilledsilk.Andrewhadinsisted, though. “Youmust appear inmourning,if fornothingelse than the happy,early days of yourmarriage.”

She tried to eat, forAndrew had alsorecommended a goodbreakfast, but was onlyabletoforcedownahalfa cup of tea and one

triangle of toast. Shewaited quietly in thedrawing room until thehired chaise arrived totake her and theassigned Runner to theinquest.

She had originallyplanned touseherowncarriage, but Andrewjust looked at her andsaid kindly: “LadyRainsborough, thestreets will be full of

thosewhowishtocatcha glimpse of you. Youcould even be in somedanger, if the crowdbecomesamob.”

Indeed, when theRunner came to greether,hetookheroutthebackdoor. “There is toomuchofacrowdaroundfront, my lady,” heexplained. He handedher into the chaise andclimbed in quickly

afterward, banging onthe roof to signal thedriveron.

The shades of thechaisewere drawn, andClare could feel herdress begin to stick toher back. She made anervouscommentaboutthe heat, but theRunner only noddedandthenignoredher,sothe long ride throughthecrowdedstreetswas

asilentone.She could tell when

theywereclosebecauseshe could hear peopleshouting. Some werehawking tickets to thegallery. Others werepromisingthattheyhadthetrue,authenticstoryofthishorriblecrimeforonlyapennyasheet.

When the carriagefinally stopped, a hushfell over the crowd. The

Runner was out first,and as Clare appearedin the door of thechaise, the crowd wentwild. “There she is,there’s the MurderingPeeress.” “Nah, it can’tbe ‘er.She’s too little to‘avekilled‘er‘usband.”

Clare was frozen.TheRunnerwasinfrontof her but behind himwas a gauntlet ofLondoners, eager to see

her, to touch her,perhaps even to attackher.Howcouldshestepdown into that sea ofhumanity? How couldshegothroughwiththisinquiry at all? She hadkilled Justin. Sheshouldjustadmititandletthemhangher.

Then, as the dooropened,shesawAndrewMore.Hiseyesmethers,andhenoddedhishead

as if tosay:Youcandoit, Clare. She steppeddown slowly, lookingneither to the left norright, keeping her eyeson his as though heoffered her a lifeline.She hardly noticed thepawing and thegrabbing, and was onlyhalf-conscious of apulling at the hem ofher gown. It was onlyhours later that she

realized someone hadactually ripped off apieceoftheblacksilkasasouvenir.

When at last shewas beside Andrew, heslammed the doorbehindherandtookherarm solicitously. “Areyou all right, LadyRainsborough?”

Clare nodded, buthereyeswerewidewithfear. Andrew thought

that only one timebefore inhis lifehadheseen that look. He hadbeen tramping throughthe woods of the familyestate and came upononeof the trapssetoutfor foxes. A half-grownfox cub was caught byhis paw. Andrew knewhe should have shot it,buthecouldn’t.Hehadapproached the animal,whispering words of

comfort andreassurance, andmanaged to free it. Butnotbeforehehadlookeddeepintoitseyes.Therewas mainly fear there,but also a desperatekind of courage. It hadactually stood itsground and growled athim. He hoped he wasright about Clare: thatunderneathwasenoughcouragetotellherstory.

Iftherewasn’t,theyhadbothlost.

ChapterEighteenGiles and Sabrina

hadmade sure tobe incourt early. The crowdhad already begun togather when theyarrived, and they hadlooked at one anotherapprehensively. HowwouldClareeversurviveall this? The heatbecame worse as theroom filled, and the

screamingandshoutingas Clare arrived madeGiles believe that henowknewwhathellwaslike.

He watched asAndrewledherovertoaside bench. She lookedso pale that he couldalmost believe that shewas cold with fear. Butwhen he looked moreclosely, he could seethat her curls were

clinging damply to herneck, and even theblack gown couldn’thide the wetness underher arms. He hit therailinginfrontofhiminan angry gesture ofhelplessness andfrustration,andSabrinaputahandonhisarm.

“I should be withher,Sabrina.Sheneedsme,”hesaidintensely.

“Andrew is right,

though, Giles. Can youimagine the crowdwereyoutohavebeenbyherside? I know this isterribleforyou,butitisbestforClare.”

When the jury wasseated, Giles lookedeach one over carefully.Howonearthcouldthisbe considered a jury ofherpeers,hewondered.Andhowwouldtheyseeher? As a pretty young

woman who hadaroused the jealousy ofherhusband?Orasthevictim of a maniac? Itwas impossible to tellfrom their faces, whichremainedexpressionless.

The coroner, SirBenjamin Rooke, was ahard man, well-knownforhammeringsuspectsintotheground.Hewasalsonothappywith the

growing trend to usebarristers as defensecounsel. He was anolder man, and morelikely to be sympatheticwith a husband’s rightto “chastise” his wifethan a wife’s right todefendherself.

****The first witnesses

called were thoseofficials who had beensummoned to the scene

of themurder: the localconstable and the twoRunners. They allagreed on the basicdetails: LordRainsborough had beenshot twicewithhis owndueling pistols. Uponcloser examination, hewas also found to havesuffered a blow to thesideofhishead.

“Which blow mightitself have killed him,”

askedthecoroner.“Yes,mylord.”“And Lady

Rainsborough?”“Wasfoundstanding

over her husband,brandishing a pokerfromthefireplace.”

“Was there anybloodonher?”

“Yes, her dress wassoakedwithit.”

“I have no furtherquestions,”saidRooke.

Andrew cross-examined the twoRunners rather tooquickly, thought Giles.When he came to thelocal constable,however, who had beenfirst on the scene, hetookhistime.

“You say you sawLady Rainsboroughstanding over her deadhusband?”

“Yes.”

“Holdingapoker?”“Yes.”“How?”“How what, Mr.

More?” responded theconstable, who wasobviouslypuzzledbythequestion.

“How was sheholding the poker? Byher side? In front ofher?”

“Uh,liftedinfrontofher,Mr.More.”

“As though she wastryingtoprotectherself,isn’tthattrue?”

“Why, yes, althoughthere were nothing toprotect herself from.Lord Rainsborough wasas dead as theproverbial doornail,”added the constable,looking around thecourt as though to getothers to see the joke:the silly woman

protecting herselfagainst amanwhowasalreadydead.

“You found LordRainsborough’s deathhumorous,Constable?”

The constable’s facefell.“Ofcoursenot.”

“The fact is, thatwhen you entered thelibrary, LadyRainsborough wasconvinced her husbandwas only unconscious

and was obviously in astate of terror that hewasabouttogetupandattackheragain?”

“There is noevidencetosuggestthatLord Rainsborough hadattacked LadyRainsborough, Mr.More,” interjected thecoroner.

“My apologies, SirBenjamin. I got a trifleahead of myself.

Constable?”“She did act as

though she thought hewas still alive,” headmittedgrudgingly.

“And could youdescribe to us LadyRainsborough’sappearance?”

“Her dress wassoaked in blood, as Isaid, if that’s what youmean.”

“Yes, and what ofherface?”

“Herface?”“Yes, Constable, her

face. Did you noticeanythingaboutit?”

“Well, now that youmention it,” replied theman grudgingly, “itwasalittlebruised.”

“A little,” askedAndrewsoftly.

“Her cheekwas red,and her lip was

swollen.”“Andherneck?”“I didn’t notice

anything about herneck.”

“I see. Well, thankyou very much,Constable.”

Sabrina turned toGiles. “He did very wellwiththatone,don’tyouthink?”

“Yes, but I wish hehadgottenhimtotestify

to the bruises on herneck.”

“Sh, Giles. It isPetersupnext.”

Peters was takenthrough the scenarioagain by the coroner,who never raised anyquestions about Clare’sappearance. He did askwhether the servantshad been aware of anyquarrel between thecouplethatnight.

“I can’t say as Iknow of one,” answeredthe butler, who was sofull of his ownimportance that Gileswanted to slap him. Itwas clear from theman’s expression thathe found it extremelydistasteful to be pulledintosuchacircus.

“What did you seeon the desk and on thefloor?” the coroner

asked.“The desk and the

floor, my lord? Oh, thepistols, of course. Or, Ishould say the emptycase on the desk andthe two pistols on thefloor.”

“Did you recognizethepistols?”

“Yes, of course, mylord.”

“And whose werethey?”

“LordRainsborough’s. Hewasveryproudofthem.Hadthem specially made.They were inlaid withrosewood andmahogany.” The butlershookhisheadsadly.

“Yes,Peters.”“I was just thinking

how ironic it is thatLady Rainsboroughmurdered him with hisownpistols.”

“Objection, my lord.We have not come toany conclusions aboutthiskilling.”

The coroner bowedin Andrew’s direction.“Mr. Peters, yourmistress has not beenproved guilty of anycrime. We cannot drawany conclusions as yet.That is what thisinquest is for. Yourwitness,Mr.More.”

Andrew began hisquestioning with hisbacktothebutler.“Howlong have you been inthe Rainsboroughhousehold, Mr. Peters?”heaskedcasually.

“Twoyears,sir.”“So you are hardly

an old family retainer,areyou?”

“No, sir. Although Ibecame very fond ofLord Rainsborough,” he

addedpiously.“Andwherewereyou

employedbeforethat?”The coroner leaned

over and addressedAndrew. “I fail to seewhere my learnedcounselisgoingwithhisquestioning.”

“I assure the courtthatIhaveadestinationin mind,” repliedAndrewturningaround.

The coroner waved

his hand. “Continuethen, Mr. More, butdon’t linger by the sideof the road, if youplease.”

“Irepeat,Mr.Peters,who was your employerbefore LordRainsborough?”

The butler clearedhis throat. “LordMonteith.”

“And why did youleavehishousehold?”

“I was dismissed,”thebutleradmitted.

“Any particularreason?”

“Unsatisfactoryservice.”

“Did you receive areference?”

“No.”“No? And yet Lord

Rainsborough hiredyou?”

“He was mostunderstanding and

decided to give me achance to prove myselfanew. He was a kindman, LordRainsborough.”

“You were certainlyindebted to him. Anunemployed butlerwithoutareference.Youhadmotivationtoignorecertain occurrences inLord Rainsborough’shousehold?”

“Mr. Peters is not

the focus of thisinquest,Mr.More,”saidthecoroner.

“No, no, of coursenot, my lord. Tell me,Mr.Peters,whatdidyounotice about LadyRainsborough’s facethatnight?”

“It was like theconstablesaid.Red,herlipswollen.”

“Andherthroat?Didyou notice anything

aboutherthroat?”Thebutler turnedto

the coroner as thoughseekingguidance.

“I am afraid SirBenjamin wasn’t therethat night,” Andrewcommenteddryly.

“There were marksonherthroat.”

“If you had toventureaguessatwhatthosemarks were from,what would it be, Mr.

Peters?”“I would guess ...

they looked like fingermarks.”

“And how wouldfingers leave animpression onsomeone’s throat, doyouthink?”

“I suppose ifsomeone were chokingsomeone.”

“Someone chokingsomeone. But in this

case,theonlysomeoneswere Lord and LadyRainsborough?”

Thebutlernodded.“Since we will

assume that LadyRainsborough was notin the habit of chokingherself, we put forwardthehypothesisthatLordRainsborough had hishandsaroundhiswife’sneck and was holdingher tightly enough to

leave finger marks. Isthat a possibleexplanation, Mr.Peters?”

“Yes,Isupposeso.”“You suppose so.

HadyoueverseenLadyRainsborough’s face orneck in that conditionbefore,Mr.Peters?”

Thebutlerhesitated.“Youareunderoath,

Mr.Peters,” the coronerremindedhim.

“Yes.”“Once,twice,often?”“Afewtimes.”“A few times. And

what did you do aboutit,Mr.Peters?”

“Doaboutit?”askedthe butler in a puzzledtone.

“Yes. Your mistresswas obviously beingsavagelyattackedbyherhusband. Surely youwould have wanted to

protecther.Didyounotfeel something for LadyRainsborough?”

“It was none of mybusiness, Mr. More. Amanhasaright tobeathis wife. Whateverhappenedintheprivacyof his home was LordRainsborough’sbusiness,notmine.”

“And you weredependent upon hisgoodwill,weren’tyou?”

“Thathasnothingtodowithit.”

“But it is true,nonetheless.”

“Yes,” the butleradmittedreluctantly.

“Thank, you, Mr.Peters.Ihavenofurtherquestions,” saidAndrew, turning hisback again on thewitness.Peterssatthereforamomentasthoughunable to believe the

lawyer had dismissedhim.

“Youmaystepdown,Mr. Peters,” said thecoroner.

“Oh,yes.Thankyou,sir, thank you.” ThebutlerhadtopassrightbyClare,andheavertedhis eyes as he scurriedby.

“Like a rabbit,” saidGiles to Sabrina. “GoodforAndrew.”

****“I call Miss Liza

Stonetothestand.”Thecoroner’s voice did notsoundasconfidentwiththis witness. Now thathe could see Andrew’sdirection, it was clearthatthetestimonyoftheabigail would be usefulin the same way thebutler’shadbeen.

“MissStone.”“Yes, my lord.” Liza

looked cool andcomposed, thoughtGiles,andverydifferentfrom the affectionateand impulsive Martha.HowhadClare survivedit, he wondered, withnot even one friend tosupporther?

“You are in theemploy of LadyRainsborough and thelate LordRainsborough?”

“Yes,mylord.”“Pleasetellthecourt

inwhatcapacity.”“I am Lady

Rainsborough’sabigail.”“What do you

remember of themorningofthemurder.”

“I object,” saidAndrew.

“I beg your pardon,Mr. More,” said thecoroner. “The morningthat Lord Rainsborough

wasfounddead.”“Iwasasleeplikeall

the other servants, mylord. I woke up suddenlike.”

“Whatwokeyou?”“I couldn’t say, my

lord. But I heard Mr.Peters go by, and Ifollowed himdownstairs.”

“Didyougo into thelibrarywithhim?”

“He went in first,

and I stayed by thedoor.Butthenhecalledmein.”

“And what did yousee?”

Liza’s voice, whichhad been flat and stillasapondonawindlessday,becamehigherandan expression of fearrippledoverherface,asthough someone haddropped a small pebblein the pond. “The first

thing I saw was LadyRainsborough.”

“And what was shedoing?”

“Just what theconstablesaid.”

“We want to hear itfrom you, Miss Stone.”The coroner promptedrespectfully.

“Well, she wasstanding there, herdressallbloody,holdingthe poker in front of

her.”“How did she hold

thepoker.”“Like he said, she

had it liftedup like shewas going to hitsomeone. Then I lookedoverandsawhim.”

“Who?”“Lord Rainsborough.

Hewas lying there ... itwas a terrible sight.”Her voice rose a littleagain as she

remembered what herlate employer hadlookedlike.

“Was there anyoneelseintheroom?”

“JustPeters.”“Did it look like

there had been anintruder?’

“An intruder, mylord?”

“Ahousebreaker.”“No, no, my lord.

The windows was still

closedandlocked.”“So before you

arrived, Lord and LadyRainsborough wouldseem to have been theonly ones in thelibrary?”

“Yes,mylord.”“Why doesn’t

Andrew object,”whispered Giles toSabrina.“Howcouldsheknowifanyoneelsewasthere?”

“I don’t thinkAndrew wants todistract the jury withany other possibilities.Afterall,Clareherselfiswilling to admit shekilledJustin.”

“That is all, MissStone,” the coronerwassaying,andthinkingshewas finished, Lizastartedtogetup.

“A moment of yourtime, Miss Stone,” said

Andrew, smiling hismost charming smile,first at her and then atthe jury, as if to say:“Weallunderstandhowmuchyouwishthiswasover,butletmeleadyouthrough a few moredetails.”

Liza sat back downand flushed withembarrassment. Sheknew about cross-examination, but had

forgotten.“MyGod,thewoman

is actually blushing,”said Giles. “I didn’tthinkshehadanybloodin her veins. TrustAndrewto throwheroffbalance.”

Andrew movedcloser to the witnessstand and said, withgreatsympathy,“Iknowthis has been verydifficult for you, Miss

Stone,butIonlyhaveafewmorequestions.Youhave already said thatyou saw LadyRainsborough first andnoticed that her dresswasallbloodstained.”

“Yes,sir.”“Did you notice

anything else abouther?”

Liza had beenlistening to the otherwitnessesanddidn’tsee

the sense of hemmingand hawing, only to beled down the gardenpath,asitwere.

“Yes, sir. Like theothers have said, herfacewasredandherlipswollen.”

“Andherneck?”“Had red marks on

it.”“Would you call

themfingermarks?”“The marks could

very well have comefromfingers,yes,sir.”

“You are LadyRainsborough’spersonalmaid,MissStone?”

“Yes,sir.”“And a lady’s maid

has almost as muchintimate knowledge ofher mistress as herhusbanddoes,isn’tthatso?”

“I amnot surewhatyoumean,Mr.More.”

“Oh, nothingscandalous, I assureyou. I only mean thatyou help your mistressdress andundress. Youprepare her for herbath.”

“That is what anabigaildoes,Mr.More.”

“So a lady’s maidmust be trustworthyandloyal,MissStone.”

“Yes,sir.”

“Loyaltowhom?”Liza answered

without hesitation:“Why, to her employer,Mr.More.”

“And in this case,thatwas?”

“LordRainsborough.”

“So your loyalties,were, in reality, withyour master and notyourmistress?”

Liza looked a little

takenaback.“Well,now,I wouldn’t exactly saythat.”

“Tell me, whointerviewedyouforyourposition,MissStone?”

“Lord Rainsborough,sir.”

“Andthenofcourse,Lady Rainsboroughwould have met withyou?”

Liza hesitated for aminute.“No,sir.”

“Youmean,youwerehired without meetingthe lady you were toserve? And she neverhadachancetoapproveor disapprove herhusband’schoice?”

“No,sir.”“Didn’t you think

that a bit odd, MissStone?”

“Not really, sir. LordRainsborough explainedthatLadyRainsborough

trusted his judgmentcompletely.”

“I see. So your firstloyaltywasindeedtothemanyouworkedfor,nottothewoman.”

Thereisnothingshecan say but yes,thought Giles. Goodwork,Andrew.

“Yes,Mr.More,”Lizarepliedinalowvoice.

“Could you repeatthatsoallthecourtcan

hear?”“Yes,sir.”“That must have

been a difficult positionto be in, then, MissStone,” said Andrewsmilingsympathetically.

“I amnot surewhatyoumean,sir.”

“To work so closelywith LadyRainsborough. To cometoknowherwell,betterthan you knew her

husband, I suspect. Tohave developedsympathy for her. Andyet to be completelydependent upon LordRainsborough’sgoodwill.”

“It was a littledifficult,” said Liza, hervoice softening as sheresponded to theattention andunderstanding Andrewwasgivingher.

“It must have beenvery difficult, indeed,when you had to helpLady Clare after one ofher husband’sbeatings,” continuedAndrew even moresympathetically.

“There has been noevidence of beatingsintroduced, Mr. More,”the coroner remindedhim.

“Excuse me,” said

Andrew, turning andgivingashortbowtothecoronerandthejury.

“On the night inquestion, Miss Stone,did you take LadyRainsboroughup toherroom?” Andrew’s voicewashardernow.

“Yes,sir.”“Andyouhelpedher

bathe?”“In the morning,

LadySabrinacameover

andwebothhelpedher,sir.”

“You have alreadystated that you noticeda red and swollen faceandfingermarksonherthroat. Did you noticeanythingelse?”

Liza hesitated, andthen answered slowly,“There were bruises,sir.”

“Bruises?Whatkindofbruises?Andwhere?”

“Rather largebruises,sir.Aroundherribs. Her back ... herbelly.”

“And where did youthinkthesebruiseswerefrom,MissStone?”

“I don’t really know,sir.”

“But if you were toguess, how might theyhaveoccurred?”

“Theylookedasif ...perhapstheyweremade

bythetoeofaboot,sir.”“A gentleman’sboot,

MissStone?”Theabigailnodded.“An earl’s boot?”

Andrew’svoicewasveryhardnow.

“I never saw himkick her, so I couldn’tsay as it was LordRainsborough’s,” saidLiza, relieved that shecould tell the truth andyet not be giving the

coroner and the juryany reason to favorClare.

“I wonder who elsewould have had theopportunity,” musedAndrew with pseudo-innocence. “Mr. Peters,the butler? A footman?A groom from thestable?”

Liza blanched. “No,sir,ofcoursenot.”

“It would seem that

a husband had thegreatest opportunity,then. Would you agreewith me, Miss Stone,that in all likelihood itwas LordRainsborough’s bootswhich had left thesemarks?”

“Yes, sir,” Lizaanswered with obviousreluctance.

“And had you everseenLadyRainsborough

in this conditionbefore?”

“What relevancehave past beatings inthiscase,Mr.More?”

“Everyrelevanceinaclaimofself-defense,mylord. And I am gratefulforyourconcessionthatthere were pastbeatings,mylord.”

Brilliant, Andrew,brilliant.Gileswantedtoshout it aloud, but he

could only turn toSabrina and smile hisexaltation. “I knew hecoulddoit.”

“Hush, Giles, hehasn’tdone it yet,” saidhis sister. But Sabrinawas feeling the sameadmiration for Andrew.Andsomethingelse.ShehadalwaysbeenequallysympathetictoAndrew’sand his family’s views.She understood his

desiretobeindependentof their expectations,and also theirrepugnance for hisusualclients.

Today, however, sheknew that they werewrong. Andrew Morehadfoundtheonethingthathisintelligenceandtalents were meant for,and such unity ofpurpose and dedicationhadapowerfuleffecton

Sabrina. She foundherself becoming awareof little things aboutAndrew she had nevernoticed before: the wayhis thick brown hairsprang back into placewhenever he ran hishand through it, howexpressivehis facewas,and how he used hisvoice like aninstrument.

Shehadalwayshad

fleeting moments offinding him attractive,but today, it was asthough somethingcoalesced inside her,anddespiteherongoingsympathy for Giles andher sense of onenesswith him, somethinghad shifted so thatwhenshelookedoverather brother, she feltmoreseparate fromhimand in some strange

way, connected toAndrew.

****Itwasnowafterone,

and the coronerinformed the court thatsince the next witnesswould likely take thempast dinnertime, hewould adjourn theinquiryfortwohours.

“Thank God,” saidGiles. “It is exhaustingjust sitting here in this

heat. I can’t imaginehowClare can stand it.Come, Sabrina, let usgetoutofhereandseeifwecangetahackneytotake us home fordinner.”

“Will we have time,Giles?”

“I think so. And wecertainly will not findany eatery in thisneighborhood suitableforalady.”

Theywereluckythatthe coroner had calledhis recess a little bitearlierthanusual,foritmeant that the crowdshad had no time togather and they wereable to find a cab quiteeasily. It was too hot,and both were toonervoustoeatmuch,soSabrinahadaplatterofcold meats and saladsent up from the

kitchenforthemaswellas a large pitcher oflemonade.

“Unlessyouwishforwine,Giles?”sheasked.

“No, no. I am toothirsty for anythingstronger than water orlemonade.”

Theyatesilentlyandquickly, and after aquick freshening up,were back at the courtjust a few minutes

before the coronerreconvened.

Andrew had hadfood and drink broughtinforhimselfandClare,and both were feelingrefreshed.Theyhadnotbeen able to escape theheat, however, andSabrina could see thatAndrew’shairwasdampandclingingtohisneck.

“Whomdoyouthinkwill be called next,

Giles?”“The coroner is in

charge,so IassumetheonlyoneleftisClare.”

And indeed, aftereveryone had beenreseated, the coronercalled LadyRainsborough to thestand.

ChapterNineteenGiles thought his

heartwouldbreakwhenhesawClaregetupandwalk slowly over to herplace. She looked sosmall and frail that hewanted to rush downand shriek into thefaces of the vulgar,curious audience, thatshe should be releasedimmediately. She

couldn’t survive thisordeal. Wasn’t itobvious? And wasn’t italsoobviousthatsuchasmall, weak womancould never have killedherhusband.Except,ofcourse,shehad.

She had to give heroath twice for thecoroner was unable tohearherthefirsttime.

“LadyRainsborough,Irealizethatthiswillbe

difficult for you, but Iwish to lead youthrough the events ofthe day and evening ofthe sixteenth. Can youtell us exactly whattranspired between youandyourhusband.”

Clare spoke veryslowly and carefully,and in a tone barelyaboveawhisper,sothateveryone in the roomhad to pay careful

attention.“My husband, Lord

Rainsborough,went outto his club thatafternoon,asheusuallydid. I was at home tovisitors.”

“Did you receiveany?”

“No, my lord. LordWhitton called on me.”Clare hesitated. “But Itold Peters to tell him Icouldn’treceivehim.”

“Andwhywasthat?”“My husband is ...

was a jealous man, mylord, especially when itcametoLordWhitton.”

“And did he haveanyreasontobe?”

“BeforeImetJustin,my husband, there wasan understandingbetween Lord Whittonandmyself.An informalunderstanding. I thinkthat Justin was never

abletoforgetthat.”“Did you see Lord

Whitton often duringyour marriage, LadyRainsborough?”

“No, my lord.Despite the oldfriendshipbetweenus,Ihave seen LordWhittonand his sister LadySabrina very little thesepast two years. Onlywhen our paths crosssocially, for the most

part.”“And yet Lord

Whitton called on youwhenyourhusbandwasaway.”

“Yes,mylord.”“Doyouknowwhy?”“I found out later

thatevening.”“Isee.Wewillgetto

that later. Pleasecontinue.”

“I sentGiles ...LordWhitton away. My

husband returned justas he was leaving andwas...upset.”

“How do you mean,upset?”

“Hebegan toaccuseme of an intimacy thatdid not exist. When hefound out that I hadsentLordWhittonawaywithout seeing him, hecalmed down andapologized for hissuspicions.”

“Andsoyouwere inharmonythatevening.”

“Yes, my lord.Absolutely.”

“What happenedwhen you got to thePetershams’? Itwas thePetersham ball youattended?”

“Yes. Justin and Idanced. I danced withseveral friends andacquaintances.”

“Including Lord

Whitton?”“Yes. Then my

husband went into thecard room, and LordWhitton asked if hecould speak with meprivately.At first, I saidno. I knew if myhusband saw ustogether, he would beangry. And I wouldsufferforitlater.”

“How do you mean,LadyRainsborough?”

“Hewouldbeatme,”Clare answered in avoice so low that allstrainedforwardtohearher.

“What did LordWhitton have to say toyou?”

“He toldmethatmyfather was concernedabout my health andhad asked Giles tospeakwithme.”

“And what did you

reply?”“That all was well.

That I needed to getback to the ballroom.But when we got back,there was Justin,looking for me. We leftsoonafter.”

“Did anythinghappen on the wayhome?”

“Just the usualaccusations.”

“Whichwere?”

Clare swallowedbeforewhispering,“ThatI was an unfaithfulwife.”

“Andwereyou,LadyRainsborough?”

“Never, my lord,”Clare responded, hervoice quiveringwith theintensityofheremotion.

“And when youreachedhome?”

“He sent all theservantstobedandtook

me into the library. Hekeptatme,wantingmeto admit to somethingI’dneverdone.”

“Did he strike you,LadyRainsborough?”

“He started out asusual,”sheanswered ina matter-of-fact tonethat went straight toGiles’sheart.“Hestruckmy face,mymouth.Hethrewmedownand...”

“And?”

“Andkickedme.”“And what did you

do?”“If I curl up,” said

Clare expressionlessly,“thenhecan’tgetatmybellysoeasily. I lethimkickmeuntilhetiresofit. It endsmore quicklythat way. Usually, thekicking is the end of it,but lately he is pullingmeupandchokingme.I was hoping it wasn’t

oneofthosetimes.”“Butitwas?”“Yes,mylord.”“Is that all that he

did?”“My God, isn’t that

enough for him,” saidGiles in a furiouswhisper.

“No, then he hitmyheadagainstthebackofthe mantel. Then heopened the gun caseand took out one of his

pistols.Hedrewitdownmy cheek. He put it tomy temple andthreatened to shoot meif I didn’t admit thetruth.Hesaidhewouldkill me and then callLord Whitton out if Ididn’t admit we werelovers.”

“Did you reallybelieve he meant toshoot you, LadyRainsborough?” the

coroner asked.His tonehad subtly changedfrom cold andbusinesslike to involvedaridcurious.

“Yes,mylord.Andifhe had called out LordWhitton, hewould havekilled him, too, for myhusbandwas the bettershot. I ... I didn’t reallycare what he did tomeanymore, but I couldn’tlet him kill Giles. Giles

was innocent ofeverything except beingmygoodfriend.”

“What happenedthen, LadyRainsborough?”

“Hepromised that itwould all end if I onlyadmitted thatGiles andI were lovers. I didn’tknow what else to do.The more I protestedour innocence, theworse he got. So I

admitted the ‘truth’, ”said Clare with gentleirony, “and promised Iwould never see Gilesagain. Then he startedto choke me again. Hewas going to kill meanyway and then goafter Giles, despite hispromise.” Clare’s eyeswere wide, and itseemed as though shewas looking at a scenefaraway,tryingtomake

it out as she slowlydescribedit.“Iwasbentoverhisdesk. I reachedbehind me and felt thebrass candlestick andbrought it down on hishead.”

“Did that stop himfromchokingyou?”

“Yes,mylord.”“Was your husband

onthefloor?”“Yes,mylord.”“Unconscious?”

“I...Idon’tthinkso.Hemoved,hestartedtogetup. I sawhispistol,and I picked it up andwalked into his armsandshothim.”

The room wasmesmerized, both byClare’s quietexpressionlessvoiceandbyherstoryitself.Whenshe admitted shootingher husband, acollective intake of

breathwasheard.“Was that the shot

in the chest, LadyRainsborough?”

“I suppose so. Iwasn’t aiming orthinking about it. I justwantedtostophim.”

“Andhewasnowonthefloor?”

“Yes.”“Unmoving?”“No, no.” Clare was

becoming a little

agitated as she relivedthemoment.“Isawhimmove.Iwassurehewasgoing to come after meagain. So I took theother pistol and shothimagain.”

“Through thetemple.”

“Yes, I think so,mylord.”

“Andsoyouadmittomurdering yourhusband, Lady

Rainsborough.”“Yes,mylord.”The collective intake

of breath this time wasagasp.

****“I have no further

questions for LadyRainsborough, Mr.More. She is yourwitness,” said thecoroner.

“I know this is verypainful for you, Lady

Rainsborough, but Iwishyoutoreenteryourstate of mind thatnight.”

Clarenodded.“When your

husband was chokingyou, what were youfeeling?”

“Thefirsttime?”“Both times,”

Andrew answeredgently, after a slightpause to let it sink into

the jury’s and thecoroner’smindsthatthewomanbeforethemhadbeen so used to herhusband’sbrutalitythatshe needed toenumerate theoccasions.

“Both times I wasafraid ... terrified hewould kill me. Butespecially the secondtime, after I had toldhim what he wanted to

hear.”“Andsoyoureached

behindyou?”“It wasn’t so much

that I reached behindme,Mr.More,asthathewas pushing me backandIwastryingtokeepmybalance ...myhandbrushed the candlestickbychance.”

“And so withoutthinking,yougrasped itandbrought itdownon

Lord Rainsborough’shead.”

“Yes.”“Why didn’t you

summon help, LadyRainsborough? Yourhusband was, after all,almostunconscious.”

Clare had a puzzledlookonher face. “Therewasno one to helpme,Mr. More. The servantswere all aware of thebeatings, but they

would have lost theirpositions had they triedto help. I know thatfrom experience,” shesaidsadly.

“What happenedthen?”

“As I told hislordship, Justin startedto get up. I was soscared, and then I sawthe pistol on the floorwhere he had droppedit. I picked it up and I

shothimandhefell.”“Did you think that

youhadkilledhim?”“No,”Claresaid,her

eyes clouded, her voicetrembling, as thoughshe were back in thelibrary.

“Whynot?”“His arm moved. I

was sure he was goingtogetupandcomeaftermeagain.”

“Surely the amount

of blood would haveindicated a mortalwound, LadyRainsborough?”

Clare sat very stilland then looked downat her dress. By now,she was soaking withperspiration, and thedress clung to her. Shepulled at it, as thoughtoliftitoffherskin,andthen looked at herhands.

“There is so muchblood ... my dress ...”She pulled again at theblack silk. “His arm ...ohGod,heisgettingup,he is going to kill meand then go after Giles...”

The spectators wereagain mesmerized intosilence.ItwasclearthatLady Rainsborough’smindhadslippedgears,as itwere,andshewas

speaking of that nightas though it were thepresent.

“You take the otherpistol ...” Andrew wasspeakingverysoftly.

“I have to stop him,but therearenobulletsleft,” moaned Clare.“And there, he movesagain.”

“And so you get thepoker from thefireplace.”

“It is all I have tokeep him away fromme.”

“So you didn’t thinkyou had killed yourhusband, LadyRainsborough. In fact,you hadn’t intended tokill him, just topreventhimfromkillingyouandgoing after LordWhitton.”

“What else could Ihave done,” whispered

Clare, coming back tothe present. “There wasno one to help me.Therewasneveranyoneto help me. Except forMartha,”sheaddedinawhisper.

“AndwhoisMartha,LadyRainsborough?”

“MarthaBarton.Shewas my abigail when Iwasfirstmarried.”

“And you dismissedher?”

“No. Justindismissedher.”

“Doyouknowwhy?”“Yes.”“Could you tell the

coronerandthejury?”Clare took a deep,

shudderingbreath.“Shehad seen the results ofone of his attacks onme.Shestoodinfrontofmeanddefendedmethenextmorning.”

“Yousaid ‘oneofhis

attacks’? So thisbehaviorhadbeengoingon during yourmarriage?”

Clarenodded.“From the

beginning?”“Almost. We were

very,veryhappyatfirst.ButwhenJustindrank,hebecamejealous.”

“Did he have anycause, LadyRainsborough,” Andrew

askedcoolly.“If by cause, you

mean, was I everinterested in anyoneelse? Was I everunfaithful? No, Mr.More. Something assimple as a smile orobvious enjoyment ofanother man’sconversation orexpertise on the dancefloor was enough to sethim off when he was

drinking.”“Why didn’t you

leave, then?Go back toyourparents?”

“ImarriedJustinforbetter or worse, Mr.More.Insicknessandinhealth. His drinkingseemed like a sicknessto me. And when theillness passed, he wasthe same tender andloving Justin I hadoriginallymarried.”

“So you would sayyou loved yourhusband, LadyRainsborough?”

“Oh, yes. Verymuch.Andatfirstallhedid was hit me once ortwice.Causeablackeyeor a swollen lip, Andtherewouldbeweeksofthe good Justin whichwould wipe out thememory of the bad. Hewould always cry and

swear he would neverhurtmeagain.”

“And you believedhim?”saidAndrew,withanairofdisbelief.

“It is so hard toexplain, Mr. More. Itwas like living with twodifferent people.Whenever Iwouldbeginto think that thedrunkenJustinwasmytrue husband, that allwashopeless,theloving

Justinwouldreappear.Ithought at times I wasgoingmad.”

“Did Martha everwitness any of theseearlyattacks?”

“No, although shesawtheresultsofthem.Ialwaystried,hadsomesort of story ready, toexplain my black eyesand swollen face. But Iamsuresheguessed.”

“Then what made

her finally risk herposition?”

“Things werebeginning to get worse.The time in betweenJustin’s outburstsbecameshorter.Hehadstartedpushingmeandkicking ...”Clare’s voicetrailedoff.

“Andthen?”“I became ... We

realized we were goingto become parents. I

was so happy. Justinpromised ... I was surehemeant it this time ...that he would neverdrink again. He was soprotectiveofme.Almostoverprotective,” sheadded,withalaughthatwasmorelikeasob.

“And so yourmarriage turnedaround?”

“I thought so. Butthen when we attended

a neighbor’s dinnerdance, Justin had onedrink. And thenanother. The next dayhe shut himself in thelibrary with a bottle ofbrandy. When he cameout,hewasmoreoutofcontrol than I had everseen him. He accusedmeof terrible things ...”Clare’s voice trailed offagain.

“Go on,” Andrew

saidencouragingly.“He called me ...”

Clarestopped.“He called you

what?”“He called me a

whoreandanunfaithfulslut.Hedeniedthebabywashisandaccusedmeof having an affair withoneofourneighbors.”

“Where were youwhen this was goingon?”

“He had come intomybedroom.”

“Didhestrikeyou?”“Yes.Heheldmeup

and hit me again andagain. Then he threwmeagainst thedressingtable, and when Islipped and fell to thefloor,he startedkickingme.”

“Where did he kickyou, LadyRainsborough?”

Andrew’s voice wasgentleandsympathetic.

“In the belly. Heswore he would kill mybaby before he wouldacknowledge it for hisown.Andhedid.”Claredroppedherheadinherhandsandcriedquietly.

“And that was whatMarthasaw?”

“She came in at theend of it. She was withme when I lost the

baby.”“You were quite ill

afterward?”“Yes.”“And Lord

Rainsborough?”“He was distraught.

He abased himself andtold me he wouldn’tcome near me until Isummoned him. Hebegged my forgivenessand solemnly promisedon the Bible that he

would never drinkagain.”

“And so you forgavehimagain.”

“Notrightaway.Buteventually. It is veryhard to explain, butJustinwassosincereinhis repentance and hisdesire to change that Iwouldn’t turn himaway.”

“And yet he neverchanged. In fact, the

man who threatenedyourunbornchild’s life,then took that life,eventually threatenedyours. You had everyreason to believe hewould carry out histhreat, didn’t you, LadyRainsborough?”

“Yes,” respondedClare, her tearstainedfacesetandstrained.

“I know this hasbeen very difficult for

you, LadyRainsborough. Thankyou for telling us yourstory.”

“IhaveonequestionforLadyRainsborough,”saidthecoroner.

“Ofcourse,mylord.”“LadyRainsborough,

you have given us avivid picture of yourmarriage. We have onlyyour word for much ofit, but that

consideration aside, didyou ever attempt todefend yourself in anyway, verbally, orotherwise. Did you evertry to stop LordRainsborough, protesthis treatment, disputehis accusations? Inother words, might younot have preventedmuch of this, especiallythe awful denouement,by standing up for

yourselfearlier?”Clare smiled and

shookherhead.“AtfirstI tried to convinceJustin he was wrong,my lord. I attempted aquarrel. I even oncetried to defend myselfagainst himby pushinghim back. It onlymadethings worse. I know Imust appear a veryweakpersontoyou,mylord, but I learned very

soon that if I just tookthe beating withoutprotest,itendedsooner.Thebetterpartof valor,in this case, seemeddiscretionineverysenseof the word. It did notleave me much self-respect, but it helpedmesurvive,” sheadded,withashowofspirit.

"Thank you, LadyRainsborough. Youmaystepdown.Iknowofno

other witnesses. Mr.More?”

“I would like to calltwo other people to thestand,mylord.ThefirstisMarthaBarton.”

ChapterTwentySabrina and Giles

had sat very still asClare haltingly told thestoryofhermarriage. Itwas as though they,along with the otherspectators,wereholdingtheir collective breath,notwanting a sound ormovement to distractfrom any word of hertestimony.Bytheendof

it, however, tears werestreaming downSabrina’s face, andGiles, handing her hishandkerchief,wishedhecould find similarrelease from his strongfeeling.

At first, as Clarerecalledthebeginningofher marriage, he hadfelt the old pain andjealousy. Then fury atRainsborough. And, he

was ashamed to say, atClare. How could shehave married such aman?No, not aman, achameleon. And even ifhe could bring himselfto understand how shehad fallen in love withhis looks and hischarm, how could shehave stayed with him,especially after itbecame clear that hewould never change?

She could have gonehome to her parents.Or,ifshehadn’twanteda scandal, she couldhave livedwith him theway many a ton wifedid: maintaining herindependence and aseparate bedroom.Instead, Clare obviouslylet him back into herbedagainandagain.

But Giles’s anger atClare and rage at her

husband disappeared,leaving a curiousnumbness when shecontinued her accountofJustin’sattacks.Howcould a man treat anywoman that way,especially a lovingwife?OfcourseGilesknewofmen who beat theirwives. But surely itoccurred mainly in thelower classes andusually involved only a

black eye or a split lip.He had always ignoredthese signs on theshopkeeper’sorfarmer’swife, believing that itwas a private matter.So, too, was violencebetween aman and hismistress. Everyoneknew that Lord Carltonmistreated his bits ofmuslin, but that wasthe riskallwomen tookwhen they sold their

bodies.But Justin

Rainsborough, to allappearances, had beena besotted husband.Always hovering overClare. Protecting her.Arriving late, leavingearly. Why, in the firstmonths of theirmarriage, men hadwagered over theirdegreesoflateness.Howcould someone be so

differentinprivate?Andhow could any manhave raisedhishand tosomeone so small andhelpless as Clare? Holdher down and punchherrepeatedly?Kickherhard enough to lose achild?Itwassohorribleapicture,so farbeyondhiscomprehension,thatGiles couldn’t respondto it at all, not withsorroworrage.

But he reached outto take Sabrina’s handandcomforther.

“Giles,howcouldwenot have seen what washappening? How couldwe have let her downso?”

“Hush, Sabrina,” hewhispered, as Marthatook the stand and thecourt stirred aroundthem. “How could we

have known?She nevertold anyone anything.And in public at least,they appeared themostdevotedofcouples.”

****Andrew led Martha

quickly through herearly years as Clare’sabigail.

“And so, when LadyClare Dysart becameLadyRainsborough,shetookyouwithher?”

“Yes, sir. We wasveryclosebythen.”

“You were fond ofLadyRainsborough?”

“Very, sir. She wasalways kind andgeneroustome.Iwouldhave done anything forher.”

“Including defendingherfromherhusband?”

“Yes,sir.”“When did you

become aware of Lord

Rainsborough’sbehavior,MissBarton?”

“Oh, from the verybeginning. Me own mawere treated rough bymestepfather. Iknew itwasn’t no doormy ladyhad run into. And Iknow all too well howbrandy chases thecharmaway.”

“DidyoutalktoLordRainsboroughaboutit?”

“No, sir. It weren’t

myplace.”“Did you talk to

anyone else about it?Anotherservant?”

“Aye. To Mrs.Clarke, thehousekeeper.”

“And what was herresponse?”

“That itwasnoneofourbusiness.”

“But you finallymade it your business,MissBarton?”

“I had to. He werekicking her and kickingher.Itwasnotevenherthirdmonth.”

“So what did youdo?" Andrew askedquietly.

“I tried to pull himaway.Iscreamedbloodyblue murder, which iswhat finally stoppedhim,” said Martha witha grimsmile. “Hedidn’twant no other servants

tocomerunning.”“After he finally

stopped, what did youdo?”

“I locked him outandgotmyladyintoherbed. She startedcramping somethingterrible.” Martha’s voicebecame lower. “She lostthe babe the nextmorning.”

“She had had notrouble with her

pregnancyuntilthen?”“No, sir,” said

Marthastoutly.“So you would

concludethatitwasherhusband’s beating thatcaused themiscarriage?”

Martha looked atAndrew as though hewas mentally deficient.“Weren’t itobvious frommystory,Mr.More?”

Andrew could not

helpsmiling.Hecoveredhismouthwithhishandand cleared his throatbeforehisnextquestion.“What happened a fewdaysafter?”

“Igotthesack.Iwastold to get my thingsand be gone by theafternoon. I didn’t evenget a chance to saygoodbye to my lady,”added Martha, “and Ialways felt bad about

that.Ididn’twanthertothink I had desertedher.”

“And are youemployed now, MissBarton.”

Martha frowned.“Yes.”

“Where?”“Asaparlormaid in

theWinstonhousehold.”“Thatisastepdown,

is it not, from a lady’smaid?”

“Yes, sir, but I wereturned out without areference.”

“I see. Thank youvery much for yourtestimony,MissBarton.”

“Iwereveryhappytospeak for my lady, Mr.More.AndIforonesayshegotwhatwascomingto him, and I hope youmen,” she continued,glaring at the jury, “beintelligent enough to

think the same.” Thathadnotbeenpartofherplanned testimony, andAndrewtriedtohidehisamused consternation.“I beg the court’spardon,” he said,addressing the coroner.“I have only one morewitness,mylord.”

“Go ahead, Mr.More,”saidthecoroner,wavinghimon.

“Dr.Simkin.”

Giles looked overwith interest andcuriosity as a plump,elderly man took thestand.

“You are Dr.Simkin?”

“Yes,sir.”“You reside in

Devon.”Thedoctornodded.“Please speak up,

sir.”“Yes, my family has

lived there for over ahundredyears.Iamtheyoungestsonof the lateBaronetSimkin.”

“Canyourecallwhatyou were doing on thenightofJanuary25th?”

“I had just returnedhomefromacallwhenIreceived a summonsfrom RainsboroughHall.”

“Which youansweredimmediately?”

“Of course. I havebeen the Rainsboroughphysicianforyears.”

“What did you findwhen you got to thehouse?”

“Lord Rainsboroughwas distraught. LadyRainsborough wasincreasing, and hefeared she was losingthechild.”

“How did LordRainsboroughlook?”

“As I said, he wasdistraught,Mr.More.”

“Soberly distraughtor drunkenly, Dr.Simkin,” asked Andrewwithsomeirony.

“Uh, well, it didseem as though LordRainsborough had beendrinking. Which wasunderstandable, giventhecircumstances.”

“And what were thecircumstances,Doctor?”

“Lady Rainsboroughwas indeedmiscarrying.”

“Could you describeLady Rainsborough’sappearance on thatnight?”

The doctorhesitated.

“You did examineher?”

“Ofcourse.Er...she... that is, her face was

bruisedandswollen.”“Andherbelly?”“Also was very

bruised. Of course,” headdedeagerly,“thiswasunderstandable.”

“Understandable?”asked Andrew, raisinghiseyebrows.

“Lord Rainsboroughtold me, and LadyRainsboroughconfirmedit, that she had fallenfromherhorse.”

“Anddidtheinjuriesyou witnessed seemconsistent with thatexplanation?”

“Well, yes, theycould have occurredthat way. Certainly herface...”

“Andherbelly?”“Lady Rainsborough

herself explained thatshe had first beenthrown against thepommel of her saddle,

and I saw no reason todoubther.”

“No reason at all?Tellme,Dr.Simkin,didany other possibleexplanation cross yourmindthatnight?”

“It did seem likeextensive bruising, Iadmit. But LordRainsborough was soconcerned. And, afterall,itwasreallynoneof

my business to askfurtherquestions.”

“Of course not,”Andrew repliedsmoothly, and thedoctorwinced.

“Tellme,Dr.Simkin,you have heard LadyRainsborough’stestimony and that ofherformerabigail?Werethe injuries to LadyRainsborough’s facesuchascouldhavebeen

caused by the beatingyou have hearddescribed?”

“Yes,” replied thedoctor, taking out hishandkerchief andwiping the sweat fromhisforehead.

“And themiscarriage. Now thatyou have heard LadyRainsborough’s story,would you say that itwas Lord

Rainsborough’s brutalbehavior that led to thelossoftheirchild?”

“Ifhekickedherlikethat,yes.”

“If?Doyoustillhavedoubts after twoeyewitnesses, Dr.Simkin?”

“Well, no, I supposenot,” the doctorstammerednervously.

“Thankyou,Doctor.”Andrewturnedaway,as

thoughhewerefinished,but just before thedoctor began to get up,turnedbackagain.

“Surely, Dr. Simkin,you must havesuspected LordRainsboroughofbeatinghiswife?”

“Yes,itdidcrossmymind,” the doctoradmittedreluctantly.

“Why did you notreportit?”

“I have known thefamilyforyears...”

“Although not LordRainsborough.”

“That is true, butboth their stories wereconsistent. He seemedsuch a devotedhusband. I, uh, didn’twant to intrude onwhat, after all, was aprivatematter.”

“If you saw a manbeatinghishorseonthe

high street, would youhave protested? Takenaction,Doctor?”

“I ... really don’tknow. After all, a manhasa right todealwithhis private property ashewill.”

“And a wife is aman’s propertyaccording to law. Well,youhavemade a point,Doctor,” Andrew saidsarcastically. “Thank

you, you may stepdown.”

The doctor openedhis mouth to protest,but the coroner wavedhimdown.“Thisisyourlastwitness,Mr.More?”

“Yes,mylord.”“Then we will

attempt to bring thisinquest to a conclusiontoday. The jury willpleaseconferinordertoofferaverdict.”

The twelvemenwhohad been facing thecourt gathered theirchairs around in aratherhaphazard circle.Therewasnowaytotellfrom their faces whichway they were leaning,and as Giles watchedthem begin theirconsultation,hehadnoidea if they would takefive minutes or threehours to come to a

decision.“Do you want to try

forabreathoffreshair,Sabrina?” he asked hissister.

“No, I would be tooafraid we might misssomething,Giles.”

“I thought Andrewdid an excellent job,didn’tyou?”

Sabrina’sfacelitup.“Oh, yes. If anyonecouldconvincea juryof

Clare’s innocence, it isAndrew.”

In fact, thoughtSabrina, he couldpersuademeofanything.That pull towardAndrew More that hadbeen present since shefirst met him, hadgrown stronger andstrongerasshewatchedhim expertlyquestioning his

witnesses. He had beenespecially good withClare. Something in hismanner toward hersubtly offered strengthandsupportashedrewout the horrifying storyofhermarriage.

He was sitting nextto Clare now, and fromClare’soccasionalsmile,Sabrina guessed thatAndrew was trying tokeep her amused and

distracted. And he hadmade sure he wassittinginsuchawayastoblockher viewof thejury.

“What do you thinkthey are saying, Giles,”Sabrina asked, after aglance over to theconferringmen.

“I do not see howthey can find heranything but innocent,”saidGiles.

“Butiftheydon’t?”“It is certainly not

over. She would go totrial. Andrew wouldhave more time toprepare a case.But thecoroner’s verdict wouldlend some weight, so itmust end here,” saidGilesvehemently.

“They can’t bring itto trial, Giles. Thethought of her beingconvicted of murder ...

of the sentence ...”Sabrina’s voice trailedoff.

“That particularsentence hasn’t beenhanded down in thiscentury, Brina,” saidGiles reassuringly. “Wearemorecivilizedinthisdayandage.”

“Oh, yes, we are socivilized. We might verywellonlyhangawomanfor acting in her own

defense.”They were both

suddenly silent, eachone trying to push outoftheirmindstheimageof Clare, eyes covered,mounting a scaffold.Orevenworse,Clareboundto a stake, flameslickingattheedgeofherdress.

The images were sounthinkable for Gilesthat he felt he had

awakened into anightmare, not fallenasleep into one. Howcouldhebe sittingherein this courtroomwaiting tohear ifClare,hischildhoodfriend,thesmall ten-year-old whohad arrived at Whittonthat summer long ago,the woman he hadgrown to love,would goto trial for murder. Itwas unthinkable and

disorienting. Were shereleased—surely shemust be released—thenhe was going to getthem both out of thiswaking dream. He wasgoing to offer her hisname, his protection,and they would returnto Whitton and live thelife they should havehad,wouldhavehad, ifJustin Rainsborough

had not come along.They would walk andride and fish andpretend that the pastfew years had nothappened.Hewouldputhis arms around Clareand never let her go.Never let her be hurtagain. He would standbetweenher andall theworld,ifneedbe.

“Giles, they arepushing their chairs

back,” whisperedSabrina.

The whole roomsuddenly became still,so that the only soundwas the scraping of thelast juror’s chair as hemoveditintoplace.

The coronersurveyed the court as iftosay:Notabreath,notone word, as we hearthisverdict.

“Haveyoureacheda

verdict,” he asked thejury.

The spokesman, amiddle-aged gentlemanclad in black worsted,rose.

“Wehave,mylord.”“And what is your

verdict?”Giles and Sabrina’s

hands reached out andfoundeachother.

“We find that LadyRainsboroughkilledher

husbandinself-defense,mylord,andshouldnottherefore,becharged.”

“Thank God, thankGod,”saidGiles.

The room, whichhad first been buzzingwith whispers, nowbecame noisier asspectators expressedtheir reactions to theverdict.WhenGileswasfinally able to getSabrina and himself

downstairs and pushtheir way toward Clare,it was only to find hergone, for as soon asAndrew heard the firstsyllables, he hadgrabbed Clare’s handand gotten her outthrough the side door.GilesandSabrinastoodthere as people pushedtheir way past, out ofthe court. They couldhear the crowd in front

letting goa great cheer,andGileslookedoverathissisterandsmiled.

“I’ll wager theywould have beenshouting as loud andjoyfully had she beenboundoverfortrial,butI am glad to hear it atall.” He offered Sabrinahis arm. “Hold on,Brina. We may as welllet the crowd sweep usout.”

****Clare had followed

where Andrew led herfor the past few days:back into the awfulmemories of hermarriage, into thecourtroom, telling herstory, and now, out theside door and into awaiting hackney. Shefelt empty andweightless, and notquite sure what the

verdict had meant. Shethought she had heard“will not be charged,”but the spokesmanhadn’t even finishedwhen Andrew grabbedherarmtorushheroutbefore the crowdreacted.

She supposed itmust have been afavorable verdict forAndrew, who had satdown opposite her, was

smiling at her andtelling her what awonderful job she haddone. What was it hethought she had donesowell?Toldher story?Survived her marriage?Killedherhusband?Shefelt hollow anddisoriented, and sheleanedbackagainst theseat and closed hereyes.

“Are you all right,

Lady Rainsborough?”asked Andrew,anxiously grabbing herhands. His touch, solidand human and warm,brought her back intoher body. She openedhereyesandgavehimaweaksmile.

“I am not sure, Mr.More. I feel ... nothing.Not even relief,” shesaid.“SurelyIshouldbefeeling something. I am

not going to burn orhang,soitseems.”

“You have beenthrough a terribleordeal, LadyRainsborough, and youarelikelystillinshock,”Andrew reassured her.“Andthisheatisenoughto make anyone feellight-headed. Once youget home and have thetimeandprivacytotakethis all in, you will feel

muchmoreyourself.”Home? Where was

that, Clare wondered.When she was small, ithad been her parents’house. A place whereshehadnever felt quiteat home. Then it wasWhitton. After the firstyear,Clarehadfelt thatevery summer she wascominghometoSabrinaand especially to Giles.Why hadn’t she made

herhomewithGilestwoyears ago? Was itbecausehehadbecomealmost too familiar, toomuch like family?Justin and Devon hadthen become her home.Now, although shesupposed she wouldinheritboththehallandthetownhouse,shefelthomeless.

Butshecouldhardlysay any of this to

Andrew More, so shejustnodded.

When they reachedSt. James Street, hehanded her down.“Come, let me makesure you are madecomfortable.”

Peters, who hadgotten home beforethem, opened the door,and Clare felt she wasseeing him for the firsttime in two years. This

manhadbeen aware ofher husband’s brutalityand had done nothing.Ah, but what could hehavedone,shethought.Whatcouldanyonehavedone?

“Please summonLady Rainsborough’sabigail, Peters,” saidAndrew.

“Yes,sir.”“No, Peters,” Clare

interjected just as the

butlerturnedtogo.Andrew looked over

atherinsurprise.“PleasegiveLizatwo

months wages anddismissher.”

Peters was veryproud of his ability tomaintain hisimperturbableexpression, but thisorder caused him toraisehiseyebrows.

“And, Peters, please

send a footman over tothe Winston household.If shewants to, Iwouldlike Martha Barton toreturntomyemploy.”

The butler bowed.“Yes,mylady.”

“Good for you,Clare,” said Andrewwhen the butler left.“Pardon me, I meanLadyRainsborough.”

“Please call meClare.Itseemsfoolishto

besoformalafterallwehave been throughtoday.”

“ThenIamAndrew.”“Will you joinme in

a glass of lemonade,Andrew?" she asked.“You must be asexhaustedasIam.”

Andrew hesitated.Clare looked like shewas ready to collapse,not hostess a socialvisit.Buthewasthirsty,

and she probablyneeded refreshment aswell as rest, so henoddedandsaid“Thankyou, Lady— I mean,Clare.”

The drawing roomwas on the side of thehouse, which wasshadedbya largeplanetree.Theheatofthedaywas finally beginning todissipate,andClarehadthe footman who

deliveredtheirtrayopentheFrenchdoors.

“Even that slightbreeze feels like a tasteofheavenafterbeing inhell,” said Andrew,loosening his cravatwithout thinking. Whenherealizedwhathehaddone, and started toapologize, Clare said:“Please, Andrew. Afterwhat we have beenthrough together, you

may be a little informalwithout offending me!You are lucky that youare wearing somethingadjustable,” she added,fingering the heavyblacksilk.

Andrew lifted hisglass. “To the mostcourageous lady of myacquaintance.”

Clare put up herhand as though toprotest. “No, to a most

persistentandarticulatedefender. Truly, I oweyou my life, Andrew,”she added with quietfervor. “I am not sure Ireally understood thatuntilnow.AndalthoughIhavenosenseofwhatIwilldowiththerestofit,Iamforeverindebtedto you that I have anychoiceatall.”

“Will you stay hereor go to your parents’,

Clare?” Andrew askedafter they had bothtaken long swallows oftheirlemonade.

“I don’t know,Andrew. I feel veryempty of every feelingright now. And wheredoes a woman go whohas murdered herhusband,” she added,trying to soundhumorous, but

obviously stilltormented.

“Clare, you knowthat if you had notkilled him, he wouldhavekilledyou.”

“Ifeltthatwaythen.When you brought mebacktothatnightattheinquest, I felt it again.Now, however, it seemsnoneof ithappened.Orifanyofitdid,itwastoa different person. I am

outside it all, only anonlooker.Itisasthoughthere are two Clares,one who is standingoverherhusbandwithapokerandtheotherwhois watching her. Andneither feels anything.Indeed,Idon’tknowifIwillfeelanythingagain,”she said with a sadsmile.

“I have seen thisbefore, Clare,” said

Andrewreassuringly.“Inmany cases involvingviolence, the victimseems to becomeremoved.Youarestillinshock.’’

“But I am not thevictim, Andrew. Justinwas.”

“Oh, no, my dear.You are indeed thevictiminthiscase.Now,I think it is time yourested,” said Andrew,

putting his glass downand walking over towhereClarewassitting,hereyesstaringout theFrench doors, butobviously seeingnothing.

Hereachedout,tookher glass, and put itdown on the table infrontofher.She turnedtoward him then andreally saw him for thefirst time that day. His

hairwasallelflocksandwet curlsboth from theheat and from runninghishandthroughit.Hiscravatwaspulled loose.He had dark circlesunder his eyes, nodoubt from late-nightbriefings with hissolicitor, preparing hisdefensestrategies.

“Oh, Andrew, youlookworsethanImust,”she said, with such

sympathythathewasn’tinsulted.“Iwillrestandhope that something ofmyself is restored. Itwas very painful toremember, Andrew, butthank you for makingme.” She hesitated. “Ifeel that we havebecome more thancounselandclient.Ifeelwe are friends. May Iconsideryouso?”

Andrew smiled. “Of

course. And as such, Ifully expect to have awaltz now and againwhen you return tosociety.”

Clare shook herhead.

“No,youwon’twaltzwithme?”

“I doubt I will bereceiving moreinvitations this Season,Andrew. And even if Idid, I would turn them

down.”“I would wager a

small fortune that youwillbethemostsought-after guest,mydear.Atleast for a few weeks,until another scandalcaptures the ton’sattention. And I wouldstronglyrecommendyouaccept at least a few ofthose invitations. Oh,not right away. Giveyourself time to

recuperate. But youmust show your face,Clare, to convinceeveryone that the jury’sverdictwastherightoneandyourcounselamostcompetent one,” headdedwithagrin.

Clare shook herhead again, and thenswayedagainsthim.

“Damnme for beingafool.Let’sgetyourighttobed.”

Andrew led herslowly to the door andsummoned the butler.“HasLizaleftyet?”

“No,sir.”“Then get her,

please. She can do onelast thing for hermistress before sheleaves.”

Andrew hated toleave Clare in Liza’shands,buttherewasnochoice. He certainly

couldn’tbringheruptoher bedroom himself.And by the time sheawoke, Martha wouldcertainlyhavereturned.

He watched thembothup the stairs untilhe was satisfied thatClarewouldmakeit.

“Tell your mistresswhensheawakes that Iwill call on hertomorrow,” he said tothebutler.

“Yes,sir,”“AndPeters.”“Yes,Mr.More?"“If Martha arrives,

please send her up toLady Rainsborough’sroom and send Lizaaway.”

ChapterTwenty-one

Clareawoke latethe

next morning, partlybecause of herexhaustion and partlybecause the weatherhad changed. The heathad finally brokenduring the night withthe arrival of a heavyrain,and itwasadark,wet morning. She lay

there, all the energyleached out of her,listening to the steadybeatoftheraindropsonthe roof. Perhaps shewould stay in bedforever, she thought.Slowly she becameconscious that therewassomeoneelseintheroomwithher.Liza,shethought, and openedher eyes. There wasMartha, sitting by the

window,sewing.“Martha?” Clare

whispered.Martha dropped the

shift she was mendingand hurried over to thebed.

“My lady. You arefinallyawake.”

“What time is it,Martha? And how didyougethere?”

“Itispasteleven,mylady. And I left the

Winstons’ as soon asyousentforme.”

Clare began to pullherself up, and Marthareachedbehindherandsettled her pillowsagainstthebedstead.

“I was hoping youwould come, Martha,”saidClare. “But Ididn’tdream it would be sosoon. You have alwaysbeen too good to me. Iwouldn’t have survived

my marriage withoutyour caring. Or yourtestimony,”sheaddedinastrongervoice.“Thankyou. It took courage tocomeforward.”

“Not as muchcourage as you, mylady.”

“Do you think so? Ifelt I only revealed myowncowardice.”

“You were as braveasanysoldierwhenyou

defendedyourself.”Claregaveherawan

smile. “Youmean whenI shot LordRainsborough? I wasafraid for my life,Martha. And LordWhitton’s,”sheadded.

“Which remindsme,”saidMarthawithasmile. “Lord Whittonandhissisterhavebeenheretwicealready,butIhad Peters send them

away.Theywillbebackagain,Iamsure.”

Clareclosedhereyesandsatbackagainstthepillows. “I don’t think Ican see anyone yet,Martha. Especially notLord Whitton. I don’tknow how I will everfaceanyofthemagain.”

“You will do itslowly, my lady. Yourfatherhasalsocalled,ofcourse.AndMr.More.”

Clare’s expressionlightened.“DidMr.Moresay when he wouldreturn?”

“This afternoon, Ibelieve.”

“Perhaps you couldsend a message to myfather, Martha. IfAndrew were there tosupport me, I think Icouldseethem.Butnotuntil later thisafternoon,”sheadded.

“I’llhavePeterssenda footmantodeliver themessage, my lady. AndtheWhittons?”

“Notyet,Martha,notyet.”

Clare knew thatGiles and Sabrina hadbeen there through thewhole inquest. At onepoint during theproceedings, she hadglanced up and seenGiles leaning over the

railing.Hehadsmiledather, a caring,encouraging smile. Shehad done nothing toacknowledge it. Howcould she? What wouldshe have done? Smiledback and thenproceeded to give hertestimony. Thatshameful scene withJustin, where she gavein and “confessed” thatshe and Giles were

lovers?Shehadtried tomake it clear that shehad lied only to saveGiles. That she hadkilled Justin almost asmuch for Giles’s safetyas for her own. But indoing that, she felt shehaddrawnhim into thehorror that had beenher marriage. That shehad somehowcontaminated him. Hemust despise her: for

marrying Justin, forstayingwithJustin,andfinally,forkillingJustin.

Perhaps she couldreceive Sabrina again.Herold friendhadbeenfaithfulandsogoodthatnight of Justin’s death.But she was Giles’stwin. They were soclose.

Itwasall toomuch.She had saved her ownlife, but to what

purpose? What kind oflife could she now lookforward to? She couldgo back and live withher parents, shesupposed.Shewassurethattheywouldaskher.Or she could return toDevon. But how couldsheliveatRainsboroughHall?Every roomwouldhold a memory. Somewouldbegood,butthatwould make it even

worse. Of course shecould stay in town, asAndrew had suggested.If she stayed in town,then at least shewouldn’t lose hercontact with him. Hehad heard her storyfirst, and he hadn’tdespised her orcondemnedher: he hadlistened and comfortedher and saved her life.She owed him at least

the waltz he hadrequested.

****Clare’smeetingwith

her parents wasbittersweet. At last, shethought, she wasreceiving their fullattention. And theirgenuine love andconcern.Howcouldshenot appreciate it andreceive it. Yet letting itinatlonglastonlymade

her remember how shehad longed for it as achild. Perhaps if shehad felt more lovedthen,herlifewouldhavebeenverydifferent.

Asshehadexpected,theywerereadytoleaveLondon and take herwith them, and wereclearly disappointedwhen she refused.Andrew, who hadarrivedafterhermother

and father, supportedher in her decision,sayingthattheonlywayto deal withscandalmongers andgossipswastobrazenitout.

“But she will beexpected to observe amourning period,Andrew,” protestedClare’smother.

“I think wearingblack and not receiving

visitors when one hasoneself caused ahusband’s demise,might cause as muchgossip, don’t you think,LadyHowland?”

“I think he is right,my dear,” commentedthe marquess. “Why onearthshouldClaremournthe death of such amonster.”

“I will come to

Howland when theSeason is over,” Clarepromised, and herparents had to acceptthat.

After the marquessand marchioness hadgone, Sabrina wasannounced. Clare, whohad been anxiouslyexpecting both theWhittons was relievedand gave her awelcomingsmile.

“I won’t stay long,”she promised. “Gileswanted to come again,butIconvincedhimthattoo many visitors todaywould exhaust you. Hewill likely calltomorrow.”

“I am glad youcalled, Sabrina, for Iwantedtothankyouforyour willingness totestify if you wereneeded.”

“There isnoneed tothankme,Clare. Itwasthe least I could havedone. I still feel terriblethat you had to sufferthosetwoyearsalone.”

Andrew, who hadbeen watching Clarecarefully, saw the lookof anxiety that flittedacross her face andbroke in: “I think thatLady Rainsborough, Imean Clare, blames no

one for those years andis ready to leave thembehind?”

Clare noddedgratefully, and Sabrinafelt shut out as herfriend and Andrewshareda quick intimateglance. Andrew Morehad never offered hersuchaquickand readysympathy.AndrewMorehad never doneanythingtodemonstrate

any special interest inLady Sabrina Whitton.But it wasunderstandable, shesupposed, that hisposition as legaldefender of Lady ClareRainsborough mightlead him to considerhimself her friend.Perhaps with thepotentialformore?

“What are yourplans for therestof the

Season, Clare? If youare not going home toHowland, Giles and Iwanted you to knowthatweverymuchwishto bring you toWhitton.”

“And interrupt yourown Season? No, thankyou,Sabrina,althoughIappreciate yourkindness. Andrew hasconvinced me thatstaying on and doing a

modest amount ofsocializingwillmakethescandal go awayquicker. And I havepromised him a waltz,”Clareadded,tryingtobehumorous.

Indeed, thoughtSabrina, and then wasappalled by herreaction. Andrew wasright. The ton wasdrawn to weakness thewayawolfwasdrawnto

a lamb: try to run, andthey were down on youat once. But turn andface them, and theyeventually lost interestand sought out othervictims. Clare did nothave to resume a fullsociallife,butstayinginLondonandattendingafew functions would, inthe long run, serve herwell.Andwhyshouldn’tshe give a waltz to

Andrew More, the manwhohadsavedherlife?

Sabrina only stayeda short while and leftwithAndrew,whoaskedif he could call her ahackney.

“No, thank you,Andrew. It is a lovelyday, so I will walkhome.”

“Surely you shouldnot do so unescorted.May I offer you my

company?”“It is a short walk,

as you know. There isno need for you to goout of your way,”Sabrina respondedcalmly.

“But it is a lovelyday, and I would enjoythewalk.”

Sabrinanodded,andthey walked along insilence for a few

minutes.“You were truly

impressive at theinquest, Andrew,” saidSabrina, breaking thesilence.

“Thank you,Sabrina. Iwasnot surethat I could pull it off.And I knew if Clare’scase were brought totrial,shewouldbemoreatrisk. Ihadtobeverystrong at the inquest.

And I, too, admire yourwillingness to take thestand, had I neededyou.”

“Oh, I think it tookno courage at allcompared to Claretelling her story. Andshe would not havedone that for anyoneelse, Andrew, I amconvinced. You wereright to push her, eventhough I did not think

soatthetime.”Andrew looked over

atSabrinaandliftedhiseyebrows. “So I haveyour approval at last,Sabrina,” he saidteasingly. He gave herone of his quirky grinsand suddenly she feltmuch better than shehad all afternoon. Hewas not looking at herinthatprotectivewayhehad Clare ... but then,

didshereallywant thatfrom him? She enjoyedit when they spoke asequals,even if itwas indisagreement. And sheknew that she wantedsomething more fromhim,muchmore.

****Gileswasathisclub

when Sabrina reachedGrosvenor Square, andshe had no opportunityto talk to him. They

were both to be at theKendall ball, but hadplanned to arriveseparately. Sabrina gotthere first and foundherself surrounded byfriends andacquaintances whowanted to know justwhat had occurred attheinquest.

“I heard that youwerewillingtotestifyforClare, Sabrina,” said

Lucy Kirkman. “Thatmust have beenterrifying tocontemplate.”

“It wouldn’t havebeen difficult for me,Lucy, since Iwasn’t theone in danger,” Sabrinaresponded quietly. “Itwas Clare’s story thatconvincedthejury.”

“Imagine little ClareDysart having the spirittodefendherself!Why,I

remember when Idumped fish bait onher, and she only stoodthere, waiting for Gilestorescueher.”

“Some of us changeas we grow up, Lucy.”Sabrina’s comment,although uttered indulcet tones, was stillinsulting enough tomake even LucyKirkman shut hermouth, and when Lord

Avery asked her for adance, Lucy was quiteeagertogiveittohim.

Sabrinawasprayingthat Giles would arrivesoon and come to herrescue when she sawAndrew approachingher. She gave him thewarmest and mostspontaneouswelcomeoftheir acquaintance, andhe thought to himselfthat perhaps he was

being foolish to rein inhis feelings for hisfriend’s sister. Then hetook in the crowd andrealized that she wouldprobablyhave lookedatanyone like that whocouldgetherawayfromsuchagroup.

“They are striking awaltz, Sabrina,” heobservedwithasmile.

“Yes, they are,Andrew. And if you do

not ask me for thisdance,Iwillneverspeakto you again,” Sabrinasaid,sottovoce.

“May I have thiswaltz,Sabrina?"Andrewasked with mockformality.

“Why, I would bedelighted,Andrew.”

“Iamverysurprisedat your unladylikeboldness,” Andrew saidwithatwinkleinhiseye

as theymoved out ontothefloor,

“Had you not askedme, Andrew, I wouldhave just grabbed youand led you outmyself.That would havedistracted them fromClareforawhile.”

“I thought it wouldbegoodtoshowmyfacetonight to see if I coulddeflectalittleattention,”

Andrew said, expertlyguidingSabrinapastanolder couple with slightpressure on her waist.Hishand feltwarmandstrong, and she wassorry when his touchbecamelighteragain.

“I seemy brother isdancing with LucyKirkman.”

“Yes, well, I wasmildly insulting to her,andshewas looking for

any port in a storm,”smiled Sabrina. “Oh,dear, I shouldn’t havesuggested that yourbrother...”

“Is a rather stiff,formal fellow, full ofhisownconsequence?Lucyissooutrageouslyfrankthat it will be good forhim.”Andrewwassilentforawhile,andSabrina,who had beenstudiously focusing on

his cravat, lifted hereyes to him for amoment and thenloweredthemquickly.

“Do you think Lucywill manage to hookGiles after all, Sabrina?Irememberherasquitean angler thosesummers I would visitWhitton.”

“I might have saidyes just a week ago,”Sabrina replied. “But

now...”“Now that Clare is

free,doyoumean?”“But is she free,

Andrew?”askedSabrinaas the music stoppedand they began towalkoff the floor. “Free tolove, I mean. I supposesheisfreetomarry.Shecan hardly be expectedto go into deepmourningforahusbandwhotriedtokillher.”

“I never knew LadyRainsborough verywell,Lady Sabrina. And IneverdidthinkshewaswhatGilesneeded.ButIhavecometoadmirehervery much. She hasmorecourageandspiritthan I ever gave hercredit for. But she hasalso gone through anordeal that would leavethe strongest person inshock. I doubt she will

feel ready to love ormarryforawhile.”

****Giles was

announced just asAndrew and Sabrinajoined a small group offriends. Andrew said:“I’ll bring him over toyou,Sabrina.He’llneverfind us in this crush.”Sabrina gave him agratefulsmile.

When Andrew

returned with herbrother in tow, SabrinacouldtellthatGileswasin no mood forsocializing. And whenLucy Kirkman joinedtheir group, Sabrinaalmostfeltsorryforher.Giles was everythingthatwas polite, but theslight current of energythathadflowedbetweenthem was no longeralive. Giles asked Lucy

for the next cotillion,whichwasalsoasupperdance, but Sabrinaknew, with her twin’ssixth sense, that thingshadchanged.

****Giles himself was

only half-present. Hehad spent the last fewdays in a state offrustration. After a yearor so of convincinghimself thathis feelings

forClare had died backdowntopurefriendship,he had been taken bysurprise.Hedesperatelywanted to be byClare’sside, and it was agonytokeephimselfaway.

But he had knownAndrew was right: anymoveonhispartwouldhave put her injeopardy. As he hadlistened to hertestimony, he had been

torn between fury andlove.Had shenot killedJustin Rainsborough,he would have done ithimself, cheerfully andwithout regret. Claredeservedtobecherishedand loved, and insteadshehadbeenbrutalized.Shelookedsosmallandhelpless sitting thererevealingthehorrorthatwas her marriage. Sheneededhiscare,andhe

was determined to giveit toheras soonas thenightmareoftheinquesthadpassed.

****It was almost two

weeks before Clareaccepted an invitation.To her surprise, therehad been no lack ofthem; indeed, shebelieved there mighthave been more thansheusuallyreceived.

She chose theDuchess of Ross’s ballinhopesthatshewouldbelostinthecrush.Thethoughtofarrivingaloneterrified her, however.Giles had made hispromised visit, but ithad been a short one,and she had beenterribly uncomfortablewith him. All she couldthink of was Justin’saccusationandherown

false admission of guilt.She feared theirfriendship washopelesslycontaminated, andalthough she knew thatGilesandSabrinawouldhappily have includedher in their party, shecouldn’t ask them. Shesent a short note toAndrew More askinghim to call on her andvery timidly asked if he

would be willing toescort her to the Ross’sball.

“Ididpromiseyouawaltz, Andrew,” shesaid,tryingtomaketheatmospherelighter.

“Iwouldbedelightedto support you in this,Clare,” said Andrew. Sowhen LadyRainsborough wasannounced, AndrewMore,Esquirewas right

besideher.It seemed to Clare

that the sea of facesbelowher turned to thedoor at the same time,their eyes eager andcurious. For a momentshe was afraid that thefaces and voices hadblended into a real sea,onewhichthreatenedtoengulf her should shestep down into it. ButAndrew placed his arm

underherhandandledher down, and the seaparted before them asthoughhewereMoses.

Giles, who washurrying over, did notmiss the grateful lookClaregavehisoldfriendand was seized by anawfuljealousy.Damnit,heshouldhavebeentheone Clare was leaningon. Yet what could be

more natural than thatafter her ordeal, awoman would dependupon such an abledefender.

Giles helped thempushthroughthecrowdand reach the corner oftheroomwhereSabrinawaswaitingwithClare’sparents. It felt to Clarethat she walked a verylong distance, though itwas, in truth, not a

particularly largeballroom. Her father’ssmile and mother’sembrace welcomed her,and Sabrina squeezedherhand.

“Good for you,daughter,” said themarquess.

“This is almostworsethantheinquest,”whisperedClare.

“Tonight will feelvery hard, I am sure,

Clare,” said Gilesreassuringly. “But thecuriosity will die downsoon enough.May I getyou a glass ofchampagne?”

“I don’t think I daredrink anything strongerthan lemonade,” saidClare in a strongervoice.

“Then I will bringyouaglass,”saidGiles.

A few friends of

Clare’s parents cameover and greeted Clarepolitely. Of course, nomention was made ofher late husband thenor at any time duringthe evening. “It is as ifJustin never existed,”remarked Clare toAndrew when he cametoclaimhiswaltz.

“Society will go onthe way it has begun:ignoring the brutal

husband in death aswellas in life. I suspectthat more than a fewfamilies have the samesortofskeletonsrattlingin their closets, Clare.To speak of your ordealwouldstriketooclosetohomeforsome.”

The waltz withAndrew was verycomfortable. He hadbeen the first to hearthe truth of her

marriage. He hadreceived it, but had notjudgedher.Hewasverygoodat taking the lead,thisAndrewMore,whileat the same time notoverlooking his partner,she thought, as theydanced.

HerwaltzwithGileslater intheeveningwasnot so comfortable. Sheaccepted his invitation,although she was

reluctant, forhowcouldsherefuseanoldfriend.But she was convincedthat all eyes were onthem, wondering if shehad really lied abouttheir relationship. Shewas sure that at leastsome of those presenthad decided that LordJustin Rainsboroughhad been correct in hissuspicions. She hadsaved Giles from

scandal and probablefatal injury in a duel,but she suspected thata rippleof gossipwouldalways follow them. Sohow could she smilenaturally or respond tothe affectionate squeezehe gave her handwhenhe ledher off the floor?It was better for himthat she not encouragea return to their oldeasycamaraderie.

Gileswasveryawareof Clare’s attempt tokeephimat a distance.His call earlier in theweek had beenunsatisfactory. And shehad been “indisposed”the second timehehadcalled. And she heldherself stiffly in hisarms as though theyhad only beenintroducedthatevening.

Allthefeelingforher

thathehadthoughtwasdead was alive again,even stronger thanbefore. When he haddanced with LucyKirkman earlier in theevening, he had lookeddown at her as thoughshewereastranger,notawomanwhomhe hadseriously consideredmarrying. She was veryattractive, Lucy, withher dark hair and

sparkling dark eyes. Hehad wanted her onceand no doubt wouldhave enjoyed hercompanionship throughlife. But that wasnothing compared towhathefeltforClare.

****Surely the shock of

her husband’s death(Giles could not reallyimagine Clare killing

Justin. She haddefended herself. Hehad died.) would wearoff soon, given the factthat the marriage hadbeenamistake.HeandClare had years offriendshipbehind them.Once it was clear thatLucy meant nothing tohim, hewould convinceClarethatthebestthingfor her to do was tomarryhim.Andsoon.

****Clare was shaking

with fatigue and nerveswhen she returnedhomethatnight.Marthasatherdowninfrontofher bedroom firewith acup of warm milk andhoney.

“Are you all right,mylady?”

Clare’s teeth hadbeguntochatter,soshecouldonlynod.

“No one wasinsulting you, wasthey?” asked Marthafiercely. Clare looked ather abigail’s hands,which hadunconsciously clenchedinto fists, and smiled.Thewarmmilk,thefire,and the wool shawlMartha had laced overher shoulders werebeginningtowarmher.

“I am sure some

things were being saidbehind my back,Martha,” she replied asher shivering subsided.“Butforthemostpart,itwasnotasbadasIhadfeared.”

“That niceMr.Morestayedbyyou,Ihope?”

“Yes, Andrew wasverykind.”

“AndLordWhitton?”Martha asked, withstudiedcasualness.

“Gileswas,asusual,mygoodfriend.”

Her mistress’s facehad been clear whenspeaking of AndrewMore,butaslightfrownhadcreaseditwhenshementioned LordWhitton. Martha, whobelieved her mistressneeded and deserved agood man to love andtake care of her, waspleased. Andrew More

was very charming,there was no doubtabout that. But he wasnot the man for LadyRainsborough, Marthawas convinced. Tensionwas a good sign, shedecided. LadyRainsborough was notindifferent to LordWhitton, that wasobvious. She hoped hislordship was smartenough not to let any

grass grow under hisfeet.

She took the emptycup from hermistress’shandsandsaid, “Come,my lady, letme get youtobed.”

Clare let herself beguided and fellimmediately into adeepsleep.

****“She sleeps like the

dead,” whispered Clare,

the waking dreamer,looking down at thewomanon thebed.Thewoman looked just likeher.Thewomanwasher,it seemed. And next toher lay the woman’shusband. His handswere folded gently overhischest,butbloodwasseeping between hisfingers, as thoughsomeone had dropped

crimson rose petals onhis white hands. Hiseyeswere closed, thankGod,butbloodwasalsoseeping out of ahole inhislefttemple.Howcanshe sleep in the samebedwithhim,wonderedClare. A voice behindher in the dream, thevoice of the coroner,said: “She made herbed.Nowshemustlieinit. But it would be a

shameforsuchayoungandbeautifulwoman tolie alone. So herhusband will be therewithher.”

It seemed a fittingpunishmenttoClarethedreamer.

The other Clarewould lie sleeping nextto her murderedhusband. Her sleepwould be “like thedead’s”forever.

When Clare awoke,she remembered thedream clearly. Indeed,when she opened hereyes, it was with theexpectation of seeingJustin’s body next tohers.For, inaway,shehad been awake in thedream. She had seensomething real, andwhen she awoke, shecould only wonder atthe everyday distinction

people made betweenwaking and sleeping.Who was to know whatwas a dream and whatwas reality? And nomatter that thecoroner’sjuryhadgivenaverdictofself-defense.She was a woman whohadkilledherhusband,and she suspected hewouldforeverhauntherbed.

****

For the next fewweeks,Clareattendedacarefully chosencombination of routs,musicales, and dinnerdances. Her entranceswere marked less andless, and by the end ofthe second week, theton was too distractedby Lady Huntly’sinteresting condition topay too much attentionto Clare. Cuckolding a

husband was not, ofcourse, as exciting askilling one, but whensaid husband had beenin the service of hiscountry for the pastyear, and saidwifewasobviously increasing ...well, speculation as towho the fatherwaswasrunningwild.

Andrewcontinuedtogo outmore thanusualand to stay close by

Lady Rainsborough’sside for much of anevening. Giles Whittonwas equally attentive,however, and wagerswere beginning to belaid as towhether LadyRainsborough wouldfindanewhusbandthisSeason, and who wouldbe the lucky man.“Although lucky maynot be the right word,”

said one gossip with amocking smile. “Afterall, the lady is deadlywithapistol.”

Hadhe been offereda wager, Giles himselfwas not sure on whomhe would have placedhismoney.Clarewas,itis true,more relaxed inhis company, but therewas almost a palpablebarrierbetweenthem.Abarrier that did not

seem to exist betweenClareandAndrewMore.

“Do you think thereis anything seriousbetween Clare andAndrew, Sabrina?”askedGilesonemorningat breakfast. He hadbeen trying to read onearticle in the paper forthe past twentyminutes, a task he hadfound impossible andfinallyhadgivenupon.

His sister, who hadbeen very aware of hismood, and indeed, hadshared his concerns,putdownhercupofteaand said: “I truly don’tknow,Giles.IwouldliketothinkClareisleaningon Andrew in a waywhich is quite natural.After all, he saved herlife. They seem to havebecome good friends,but I have noticed

nothing romanticbetweenthem.”

“But what could bemorenatural than forawoman to fall in lovewith the man whorescued her from ahorribledeath.”

Sabrina shruggedhershoulders.“Perhaps.You have been quitenoticeably neglectingLucy Kirkman, Giles.Does thismeanyouare

no longer thinking ofmarryingher?”

“Ican’tbelieveIeverdid consider it. I hadthought my feelings forClarewere dead. It hadbeentwoyears,afterall.I wanted to believe Icould see Clare only asa friend, and thereforemake Lucy a decenthusband. But as soonasIknewClarewasfree...” Giles looked over at

his sister, and she sawin his eyes such amixture of exultationand hopelessness, thatshequicklyhadtolowerherown.

“I almost feel sorryfor Lucy,” said Sabrina.“Except that herfondness for you neverdeepened into love, asfaras Icould tell.Whatdo you plan to do,Giles?”

“I could wait,” saidher brother. “I shouldwait. Let Clare recover.See if this connectionwithAndrewisanythingmore than friendship.But I don’t think I canwait, Brina,” he addedfiercely. “I intendtoaskClare to marry mebeforethisweekisout.”

“Do you think thatwise?” Sabrina asked

withgentleconcern.“Wise? I thought it

wisetoletherenjoyherfirst Season without aformal commitment andlook what happened.She ended up withJustinRainsborough!”

“Andrew More ishardly comparable,Giles,” protested hissister.

“I know,” Gilesreplied with a little of

his old humor. “ButClareisvulnerablerightnow.Andwhatkindofalifewill shehavealone?Shecan’twanttoreturnto Devon. And livingwithherparents isonlya short-term solution.She needs love andsecurity, and if I don’toffer it to her, I amafraid she will settleelsewhere.”

“Perhaps you are

right, Giles. Although Ihate to think of yourushingintoanything.”

“Rushing? I haveloved Clare for almosthalf my life, Sabrina.Whatever constraintsshefeelswithmenow,IamsureIcanovercomethem.”

“I hope so, Giles.”And Sabrina did, asmuch for her own sakeasforherbrother’s.For

while she did not senseanyromanticinclinationtoward Andrew onClare’s part, she knewher friend had alwaysneeded a shoulder tolean on, and Andrew’swasmuchtooavailable.

ChapterTwenty-two

“LordWhittontosee

you,mylady.”Clarelookedupfrom

her embroidery insurprise.AlthoughGileshad been very attentivelately when they metsocially, he had notcalled upon herrecently.

“Send him up,

Peters,” she said,somewhat reluctantly.Shestilldidnotfeeltheold comfort in hispresence, but did notwant to wound him byturninghimaway.

“Good afternoon,Clare,” said Giles,standing hesitantly atthe door of the drawingroom.

“Good afternoon,Giles, what a pleasant

surprise.Pleasecomeinand sit down.” Despiteher efforts, Clare’swelcome did not soundcompletely natural, andGiles wondered if hecould ever break downthe barrier she haderectedbetweenthem.

“I do not intend tostay,Clare. It is suchabeautiful day, I washoping I could convinceyoutocomeforaridein

the park. We do nothave to be away long,”headdedquickly.

Clare felt trapped.Giles and Sabrina hadoffered her all theircomfort and supportthese past few weeks.Theyhad,withAndrew,made itpossible forherto return in a modifiedway to her place insociety. And here wasGilesofferingtohelpher

take another step. Yetshe cringed inwardly atwhat the gossips mightbe saying about them.AndthememoryofwhatJustinhadsaid.

She put herembroidery down andlookedupatGiles. “Areyousureyouwishtodothis,Giles?”

“Of course, Clare.You need to appear inpublicalittlemore.”

“Despite the gossipitmaycause?”

Giles looked puzzledfor a moment. “Clare,they will be gossipingaboutyoufortherestofthe Season. For years,most likely,” he addedwith a quick smile. “Ithought you hadacceptedthatfact?”

“I have,Giles. I justhaven’t gotten used tomy friends being

draggedinwithme.”“Surely there is

nothing strange abouttwooldfriendsspendingtime together,” saidGiles. And the sooner Igetyoutomarryme,thebetter, he thought tohimself. For after theinitial uproar, thingswould die down, andClarewouldnothavetoface anything aloneagain.

“If you think so,Giles,” Clare repliedafter a moment’sthought. “I will be withyouinamoment.”

When she returned,shewaswearing an oldchip-straw bonnet withribbons that matchedher eyes, andGileshadallhecoulddonottotipher chinupanddropakissonherlips.

Whenhehandedher

up into his curricle, helet his hand linger atherwaistevenaftershewas seated. Clare triedto ignore the sensationof warmth thatremained even after heremoved his hand, butshe could not. Giles'stouchfeltgoodandthatdisturbed her. HadJustin knownsomething about herthat she hadn’t? Might

she have been asresponsive to Giles hadhe ever had the chancetobeapotentialloveraswell as an old friend?Clare made sure shewas on the far side ofherseatsotherewasnochance of her legcomingintocontactwithGiles, and shewas verygladthathehadtogiveall his attention to hishorses as they made

their way through thetraffictothepark.

Once there, theywere of course caughtup in the parade ofcarriagesandridersthatfrequented the park inthe afternoon. Luckilythey arrived a littlebefore the mostfashionablehour,sothecurricle was able tokeep moving. Severalfriends and

acquaintances of Gilesgreeted him and rodenext to them for a fewminutes, exchangingpleasantriesandlookingcuriouslyatClarewhenthey thought shewouldn’tnotice.

Lucy Kirkman rodeby at a canter lookingvery dashing in herHussarridinghabit,thejaunty cap tilted overher eye. A few minutes

later she turned herchestnut mare andwalked her back toGiles’scurricle.

“Good afternoon,Giles.Clare,itisgoodtosee you finally takingtheairinpublic.”

Lucy’s patronizingtone made Clare feeljust as she had in herchildhood: small,cowardly, and helpless.And overlooked, for

having politelyacknowledged Clare’spresence, Lucyproceeded to ignore herand chatted away toGiles. Lucy wasn’t oneto give up easilyanythingsheconsideredher own, thought Giles,and she had certainlythought of him assomeoneshepossessed.He had hoped that hisobvious attention to

Clare would have madeit clear enough to Lucythat whatever coursethey had been on hadbeenalteredradicallybythe events of the pastmonth. He was relievedwhen she was finallydrawn away byAndrew’sbrother.

“That is the thirdtime this week LordAvery has sought Lucyout. What an odd pair

they would make. Iwonderifheisserious,”remarkedGiles.

“He would seem tobe. But I think herinterest still lieselsewhere.” Clare wassurprised by her owntemerity.

Giles flushed. “Atone time I had thoughtthat Lucy and I mightrub alongwell together.But I was never in love

with her, nor she withme,Clare.”

“You don’t owe meanyexplanation,Giles.Ishouldn’t have madethatcomment.”

“Youhadeveryrightto make it, Clare, forthings have changeddrasticallyoverthepastweeks,” respondedGiles, turning andlookingsoseriouslyintoher eyes thatClare had

to turn away. Shethoughthewasgoingtogo on, but instead hetouched his horses upto a trot and both ofthem silently enjoyedthe breeze created bythecurricle’smovement,which cooled off theirfaces, flushed byintensity andembarrassment.

WhenGilesreturnedher toSt.JamesStreet,

he only walked her tothe door and turneddownherofferof teaorlemonade.

“No, not thisafternoon, thank you,Clare.ButIwillseeyoutonightatthemusicale?May I take you in tosupper or are youalreadyspokenfor?”

“No, that would belovely,Giles.Thankyoufor the lovely drive. It

wasindeeda...”“ ‘Lovely’ afternoon,”

he teased, his grinsuddenly bringing backtheoldfriendGiles.

Clare couldn’t helpbutlaugh.“Butitwasalovelyafternoon,Giles.”

“Until tonight then,”he said, and was gone,leaving her to bothdreadandanticipatethecomingevening.

****

For the next fewdays, Clare lived withthe very uncomfortablecombination ofexcitement and fear,although fearpredominated. She felthelplessinthehandsofFate—or Giles—shewasn’t sure which. Sheonly felt safe when shewas with Andrew Moreand stayed by his sideas often as she could

respectablydoso.Thereweremoments

when she wanted toturntoAndrewandcry:“Saveme,Mr.More,”forsomuchofthetimeherlife felt beyond hercontrol. She hadreturned to societybecause she had seenno other choice forherself. She was gladshe had, for shecouldn’t imagine what

elseshemightbedoing.Yet it gave her littlepleasure and exhaustedher.Shespent thedaysin between her socialengagements lying inbed, feeling tired anddisoriented. There werestill mornings whenMarthaopenedherdoorthat she felt her heartbeat in terror, so surewas she that it wasJustin about to enter

herbedroom.She felt she was

wandering ina fog,andwhen Andrew More’sface would emerge, heseemed a landmark toher, the one securethingtoholdonto.Shecould almost wish thathewantedtomarryher.She would have saidyes.

Not for the rightreason, of course. But

becauseshewouldhavehadhimtosupporther.But despite the gossipshe knew wascirculating,sheknewhehad no romanticinterest in her. It wasGiles who would askher. Of that, she wassure. He had beenincreasingly attentive.After the carriage ride,he had taken her in todinner at the musicale

and been hovering athersideeversince,orsoit felt. He had saidnothing yet, but it wasinevitablethathewould.

One morning, whileClare was lying thereagonizing over how shewouldanswerGiles,shedecidedshemustspeakwithsomeoneaboutherdilemma.ItcouldnotbeSabrina. Andrew wasthe only other person

shecouldtrust,andsherang forMartha, feelingmoreenergeticthanshehadinweeks.

“Martha, I need tovisit Mr. More’s office,and I need yourcompany.”

“Yes, my lady.” IfMarthathoughtthevisitodd, she kept it toherself. At least hermistress had someenergy and some color

inhercheeks.Theytookahackney

to Lincoln’s Inn andfound Andrew’schambers. His clerklooked at them with acuriosity he didn’t eventry to hide. He knewwho Clare was, ofcourse, from theinquest.

“Mr. More is busywithaclientrightnow,”hetoldthem.“Ifyouare

willing to wait, heshouldbeoutwithinthequarterhour.”

It was twentyminutesbefore anolderman emerged fromAndrew’s office. He hadobviously dressedcarefully for his visit tothebarrister’soffice,butthe clothes he wore,though clean, werethreadbare. If this wasAndrew’s usual sort of

client,thoughtClare,nowonder his familydisapprovedofhim.

The clerk went intothe office to announcethem,andAndrewcameout immediately with alook of pleased surpriseuponhisface.

“It is delightful tosee you, LadyRainsborough.Butwhatbrings you here?” Hegesturedthembothinto

his office, but Clareturned to Martha andasked her to waitoutside.

“Please sit down,Clare,” said Andrew,afterhe closed thedoorbehindthem.

“The man who wasleavingyouroffice,isheone of your clients,Andrew?” asked Clareas she sat down acrossfromhisdesk.

“Thefatherofoneofthem. His son is inNewgate forhousebreaking. The oldman is sure I can gethimoff.”

“Andcanyou?”“I don’t know. From

what my solicitor hasshown me, I think theboy is guilty. But I amhoping I can get himtransported.”

“His father did not

looklikehehadenoughmoney to pay you,Andrew.”

Andrew pulled achair over and satoppositeClare.“Ialwaysask for something, nomatter how small. Butyou are right, Clare,”said Andrew with asheepish grin. Many ofmy clients are poor. Iam lucky to have asmallincomeofmyown.

AndsinceIdo,Ialwaystakeafewpoorerclientshereandthere.”

“IamverygladthatIcould pay you well,then,” saidClarewithasmile.

“Now, what bringsyou here?” askedAndrew.

Clare was silent foramoment. She had feltenergized an hour ago,but now she could feel

allthatenergydrainoutofher.

“Andrew,Icountyouasmyfriend.”

“Indeed,Ihopeso.”“I am not in a very

goodstate,Andrew,”shewhispered.

“HowcanIhelpyou,Clare?" he asked,leaning forwardsympathetically.

“I don’t know quitewho I am anymore. Or

where I am, althoughthat sounds strange, Iknow. It is as thoughthere is a veil of mistbetween me andeverything,everyone.”

“Do you think thereturn to society hasbeentoomuchforyou?”

“No, no, it is notthat, although even alittle effort seems toexhaustme.Ithinkitisthatmyold life isgone,

and Iam living insomelimbo where the onlyface I feel I know andcancountonisyours.”

Andrew reached outand took Clare’s hand.“I think that is a verynatural feeling, Clare.AndyouknowthatIamhere to support you inanywayIcan.”

“I know. It is justthat I am afraid. Gileshasbeen very attentive.

He is my oldest friend.SurelyIshouldwelcomehis company. I dowanthis company, I think.Oh,Andrew,”saidClarewith a shaky laugh, “Isound like amadwoman.”Shetookadeep breath. “Perhaps Iam wrong, but I thinkbefore the Season isover, Giles is going toaskmetomarryhim.”

“I think you areright.”

“And I am afraid Iwillsayyes.”

“Whyafraid,Clare?”“Because I can’t see

a way out of it. I can’tsee any shape for mylife. I feel like Ihavenofuture, Andrew. Thatthereisonlyadreamlikepresent that will go onand on. And I feel insome way, that I owe

Giles. Had I marriedhim in the first place,noneof thiswouldhavehappened.”

“Butyouwerenotinlove with him the wayyou were with LordRainsborough?”

“IthinkIcouldhavebeen, had Justin notcomealong.”

“But Rainsboroughdid, and you made theonly choice you could

have at the time. Areyou in love with Gilesnow?”

Clare shook herhead.“Idon’tthinkIamcapable of feeling thatfor any man again. Iwouldbe cheatingGilesout of something hedeserves.”

“You could marryme,” said Andrewlightly.

“Andrew, you are

surely the mostsupportive friend,” saidClare,deeplytouched.

“We could both doworse.”

“I never felt youlikedmeverymuch,youknow, those summerswhen you visited. Andwhen I married Justin,notGiles...”

“I didn’t. But I havecometoknowyoumuchbetter, Clare. And to

admireyousincerely.”“Will you be very

insulted if I refuse you,Andrew?”

“Notatall,but Iamquite serious, for allthat.”

“I am very grateful,more than I can say.AndIcareverymuchforyou as a friend. But Ihave always suspectedthat you had specialfeelingsforSabrina.”

Andrew lookedsurprised. “Ihaveneverdone anything obvious,haveI?”

“No, no. It is just afeelingIhavehadlately,since I have seen youtogether more. Whywouldyouevenconsidertying yourself to me,when you could haveSabrina?”

“Because I can’thave Sabrina, even if

she wanted me. Whichshe doesn’t. I am ayoungerson,Clare,andfourth in line for thesuccession. I am abarrister, although thatin itself presents nobarrier, since it isconsidered agentlemanly enoughcalling,” Andrew saidironically. “But I don’tpursue it in agentlemanly enough

manner. I deal with allsorts of criminals andriffraff. I have anadequateallowance,butan earl’s daughter,particularly Sabrina,deservesbetter.”

“Shedoesn’tseemtohavebeenmovedbyanyeldersons,Andrew.ThisisherthirdSeason,andI see no sign of anyattachment.”

“She will meet

someone someday.”Andrew paused. “Giles,however, will not. Hehas always loved you,Clare. Surely thatshould count forsomething.”

“But doesn’t hedeserve a woman whoknows who she is andwhatshewants?”

“Be patient withyourself, Clare. I amsure these feelings will

pass. Giles may berushing things; I don’tknow. But I canunderstand. I wouldguess that he feels likehedoesn’twant tomissthischance.”

“Or I will findanother Justin?” askedClarebitterly.

“Hardly.Thatpartofyour life is over, Clare.Youmust put it behindyou.”

“I hope I can,Andrew. But sometimesI am afraid Justin willalwaysbewithme.”

****Aweekafterhervisit

with Andrew, Gilescalled on Clare beforenoon. She wanted toturn him away, butknew that shewasonlydelaying the inevitable.If she didn’t allow himtomakehisdeclaration,

he would only comeback again tomorrow,and tomorrow. “Andtomorrow,” shewhisperedaloudwithoutrealizing.“Creepsinthispettypace...”

“What is that, mylady?” asked Peters,whowaswaiting forherresponse.

“Oh,nothing,Peters.Tell Lord Whitton I willseehim.”

“Yes,mylady.”Macbeth had never

been a favorite play ofClare’s. She hadpreferred Shakespeare’sromantic comedies overhis tragedies.Andofallthe tragedies, a playthat made a murdererthe tragic hero was herleast favorite. But thewords had suddenlycome to her from

nowhere and seemed toexpress very well howshe had been feeling.She had believed thatstories had happyendings when she hadmarried Justin.Probably that was whyshehadstayed:shehadthought she couldsomehowwrestahappyending from hermarriage. She hadbelieved and hoped

anew each time he hadpromised to change.Even at the end, shehad thought hisdecision to see Dr.Shipton might haveturned everythingaround, and given hersufferingsomemeaning.

But what meaningdidthatsufferinghaveifone’shusbandwasdeadatone’sownhand?Herstory seemed to have

become a “tale told byan idiot,” goingnowhere. The onlymeaning she couldimaginefindinginit,theonly“happyending”shecouldconceiveof,wouldbe if she gave one toGiles. Her own storysignified nothing, but ifshe married Giles,perhaps she could givehismeaning.Oratleastthe ending he deserved.

Howhe could stillwanther, she didn’t know,but if he did love herandaskedher tobehiswife, she would let himhave her and do herbest to make him notregretit.

****When Giles was

shown into themorningroom, Clare wasstandingbythewindow,looking out at the soft,

butsteadyrainthatwasfalling.

“I had intended toaskyoutogoforadrivein the park, Clare, butthe weather is againstus, as you can see,” hesaid.

“It is early for adrive, Giles,” respondedClare, turning andfacinghim.

“I know. I washoping we would have

theparktoourselves.”Clare moved away

from the window andsat down. Gilesremainedstanding,evenwhen she motioned tothesofawithherhand.

Heclearedhisthroatnervously. “I know it isearly for a call, Clare,but Iwantedsome timewith you alone.” Hehesitated, and thencontinued. “I know that

these past few weekshave been hell for you,no, these past twoyears. Perhaps I shouldbegivingyoumoretime...”

“Time for what,Giles?”

“Time to forgetwhatyouhave been through,time to begin to enjoylife again. But I find Ican’t. I suppose it isbecause I did it once

before and lost you. Inever asked you tomarry me before yourfirst Season because Iwantedyoutobefreetoenjoy it. Of course, Ineverdreamed that youwould really meetanyone,” he added witha bitter laugh. “I stilllove you, Clare. I neverstopped loving you,although I tried veryhard to convincemyself

thatIhad.”“What about Lucy

Kirkman, Giles? Wouldyouhavemarriedher if... if Justin were stillalive?”

“I suppose I wouldhave,” admitted Giles.“Lucy and Iwouldhaverubbed along welltogether, I think. ButJustin’s death changedeverything,Clare.”

“Yes, it did, Giles,”

Claresaidsoftly.“Youare freeof that

monster. I am free.There was never anyspoken agreementbetween Lucy and me.And I find I don’t wanttowait,Clare. Iwant tobring you back toWhitton. I want us tospend the summerthere. You needsomeone, Clare,someonewholovesyou,

to help you forget thepasttwoyears.”

“But do you needme,Giles?IamnotsureI have much to giveanyonerightnow.”

“Of course you feelthat way, Clare. Iunderstand. I won’tforce you to anyintimacy until you areready. And you don’tneed to give meanything, my dear.

Exceptyourself.”“That feels like a

poor gift, Giles,” Clarewhispered.

Giles sat down onthesofanexttoherandtook her hands in his.“Clare, Ihave lovedandwanted you for a longtime. The fact that youare free seems like amiracle to me. We canstart our story againwhereitleftoff.Youwill

forgetthelasttwoyears,I promise you. You willbesafewithme.”

Clare couldnot lookup intoGiles’s eyes, forshe was afraid of whatshewouldseethere.Hislove was almost toomuch for her, and soshelookedatherhandsin his. His thumb wasgently and rhythmicallybrushingthebackofherhand. It was very

relaxing,andifsheonlyfocused on thatsensation,sheknewshecouldsayyes,couldgiveGiles what he wanted,what he deserved: hishappyending,hisClare.

“If you are sure,Giles?”

“Iamsure.”“Then, yes, I will

marryyou.”Giles dropped her

hands and lifted her

chin with his finger.“Tellmeagain,Clare.”

“You are my oldestand dearest friend,Giles,andIwillbeyourwife.”

Giles lowered hismouth to hers andbrushed it gently withhis lips. Clare felt astirring of desire, but itso frightened her thatshe lowered her face.Giles reached out and

smoothed her hair. “Iwon’t rush you on this,Clare,” he said quietly.“Only on the weddingdate,” he added with aself-mockingsmile.

“Wheneveryouwish,Giles. My only wish isthatitbeveryprivate.”

“I was assumingthat you would visitwithyourparentsattheend of the Season,Clare.Wouldyouliketo

be married from yourfather’shouse?”

Clare smiled up athim, one of the firstspontaneous smiles hehad seen from her in along time. “Oh, yes. Ihad always wanted theReverendStilestomarryme,butJustinwantedaLondonwedding.”

“We can be marriedin the parish churchwith just family around

us,Clare,ifthatiswhatyouwant.”

“AndAndrewMore.”“Of course, Andrew.

If it weren’t for him ...”Giles didn’t finish, buttheybothsatsilentforamoment. Giles put hisarms around her verygently and held her tohis heart beforereleasing her andstandingup.

“I will see you

tonight,Clare?”“Yes, Giles. We do

not have to make thispublic, do we? I don’tthinkIcouldbearbeingthe center of morescandal. It will be badenough after we aremarried.”

“Bythefall,theywillhave forgotten us,Clare,”saidGileswithareassuring smile. Hedropped a kiss on the

topofherheadandwasgone, leaving her towonderwhethershehadjust made a decisionthat Giles would onedaycometoregret.

****Giles told his sister

that afternoon, and shecalled on Clareimmediately.

“Iamthrilled,Clare.I have never seen Gileslooksohappy.He isoff

to speak with yourfatherandmother.”

“I hope I am doingthe right thing,Sabrina.”

"Because it is sosoonafterJustin?Don’tworry about the gossip,Clare. We will all be atWhitton by then, and itwill die down by thefall.”

“Not just thescandal, Sabrina. I

meanforGiles.”"I know Giles better

thanmost sisters knowtheirbrothers,Clare.Hewas devastated whenyou married, althoughhehiditwell.Andifyouare at allworried aboutLucy Kirkman, youshouldn’t be. His hearthasalwaysbeenyours.”

“That is exactly myconcern, Sabrina. Theonly thing I can do for

Giles to make himhappy is to give himmyself,butIamafraidIhavenotmuchtogive.”

“Clare, you havealways underestimatedyourself,” Sabrinaprotested. “I think youand Giles could makeeach other very happy.You just have not yettaken it in that youarefree from that horriblemarriage. You will be

safe with Giles, Clare,andwillneverbetreatedbrutallyagain.”

Or loved aspassionately? wonderedClare, immediatelyappalled at her ownquestion. Most of thetime when she thoughtof Justin, it was withterrorandoverwhelmingremorse. Butoccasionally she wouldremembertheearlydays

of their courtship andmarriage, and thepleasure she had foundwith him. Dear God,there must besomething terriblywrong with her if shecould still cherish someof those gloriousmoments with her latehusband. She hadcertainly paid a highenough price for thatecstasy.

Sabrinadidnotstaylong, and shortly aftershe left, Andrew called.Clare received hiscongratulations quietly,and told him that shenot only absolutelydemanded his presenceat the ceremony, buthoped he would comefor an extended visit toWhittonthatsummer.

****That evening, at the

Bellingham rout,Andrew approachedSabrina and was luckyenoughtoobtainbothawaltz and theopportunity to escortherintodinner.

What Andrewthought was luck wasactually Sabrina’sdecisiontosaveroomonhercardforAndrewnowthat he was attendington functions more

regularly. She felt fairlysecure that he wouldask her but not at allsure that, were she notfree, he would keepcoming back on futureoccasions. Some menmight have been thatpersistent, not Andrew.Hewasnotatall fullofhimself, which was onereason, an acceptableone. Or possibly he didnot care that much

about a dance or asupper with LadySabrina Whitton, whichwas a much lessacceptableexplanation.

Andrew wasdistracted during theirwaltz and did not talkmuch.HewashappyforGilesandClare,worriedabout them, andenvious,allatthesametime. Whatever theirproblems, at least they

were of equal rank andstatus.

What was he doing,torturing himself bydancing with Sabrina,drinking in the sweetrosewater scent of her,whennothingcouldevercome of it? He wasalways surprised thatshe managed to find adance for him, for shewas very popular, andrumor had it that Lord

PatrickMeademight beattempting to fix aninterest. Lord Meadewas exactly the sort ofman she should marry:rich, titled, tall,handsome, not toostaid.Withhim,Sabrinawould have everythingshewasusedto:wealth,a lovely country estate,and luxurious townhouse. With Andrew,she’d have nothing. So

Andrewwasverycarefulnot to enjoy his waltztoomuch.

Oversupper,hewasquiet also, and Sabrinafinallycommenteduponit.

“Iamsorry,Sabrina.One of my cases hasbeen preoccupyingme,”helied.

“Clare told me youknow of theengagement.”

Andrew’s facebrightened. “Yes, I havewished them bothhappy.”

“Do you think theywillbe,Andrew?”

He thought awhilebefore answering.“Perhaps notimmediately. Clareneeds more time torecover than Gilesrealizes, I am sure. Butultimately? They are

very well-matched, andthe affection betweenthem runs long anddeep.”

Sabrina smiled. “Iam glad you think so,Andrew.Ican’thelpbutworry about my twin,youknow.Youwillcometo Whitton thissummer?” Sabrinaaskedascasuallyasshecould.

Andrew hesitated a

moment and then said:“Yes, I think I will beable to get away for ashortvisit.”

“I will look forwardtothe fourofus fishingand riding, then,” saidSabrina. “It will be justlikeoldtimes.”

Ah, Sabrina,thought Andrew, it cannever be like old timesagain.

ChapterTwenty-three

By the time a small

announcementappeared in the Times,Clare and Giles hadbeen married a week.While it was true thatsociety was scandalizedby such a quickmarriage, and betweentwo people who hadbeensuspectedofbeing

lovers by LordRainsborough, most ofthe tonhad left Londonand only a few peoplewere gossiping over teaor in the clubs. Mostwereontheirwaytothecountry,andbythetimethey heard about it, itseemed like stale news.WhichwasexactlywhatGiles had hoped wouldhappen.

****

HeandClarestayedwith her parents for afew days after theceremony, and then setoffforWhitton.Whenhehanded his new wifedown in front of thehouse, GilesrememberedClare’sfirstvisit. There wassomething in her eyesthat reminded him ofthe frightened ten-year-old,andhefeltthesame

surge of protectivenessas he led her into thehouse.Shewasstillthinand tired-looking andhad been very quietthesepastfewdays.

Their things weretaken to his bedroomsuite,andoncethebagswere set down and thefootman had left, Gilesdismissed Martha andjoined Clare in herroom.Shewasstanding

there, looking lost, andhe was immediatelydrawntoherside.

“Thisisallrathertoomuch for you, isn’t it,Clare?”

“Iamsorry,Giles. Ittakessomegettingusedto. I have been LadyRainsborough for twoyears now, and all of asudden, I am LadyWhitton. This is notDevon, but Somerset ...

and...”“And I am not

Justin,onlyGiles.”“ThankGodforthat,

Giles,” responded Clarefervently.

“I told you on ourwedding night I did notintend to rush things,Clare.Thedoorbetweenus will always be open,butIwillwaitforyoutoinvitemeintoyourbed.”

Clareblushed.“Iam

sorry,Giles.”“There isnoneed to

apologize,Clare.Wewillhave a whole lifetimetogether.” Giles leaneddown and dropped agentle kiss on her lips.All his kisses had beengentleandnonintrusive,and for this Clare wasgrateful, for theystirredonly a momentaryresponse before feartookover.Shewondered

if that part of her wasdead. If so, it would befitting punishment forkillingherhusband.Buteven so, eventually shewould have to walkthroughGiles’sdoorandpretendtoapassionshemight never feel again.Allofasudden,she feltan all too familiarexhaustionhither.

“I think Iwould liketo rest before coming

downtodinner,Giles.”“Of course, my

dear.”****

Clarespentthenextweek inbed.Shewouldwake in the morning,have tea and toast inher room, summonenough energy to getup, but once at herdressingtable,wouldbeutterly overcome by theidea of leaving her

bedroom and enteringinto her new life. Shewouldreturntobedandsleep the morningsaway. She then ate alightlunchinherroom,andafterreadingonlyafewpagesofherbookorleafing through thelatest La Belle Assemblee,she would slide underthe covers and sleepagain.

She felt likesomethingthrownupbythetide,atidethatwasat its lowest ebb.A tidethat might never runagain, never flow backtofloather,tobringherback into life. Even thethought of how shemust be disappointingGilescouldn’tmoveher.

Giles wasdisappointed, of course,butalsoworried.Hehad

imagined that he andClare would rediscoverthe camaraderie theyhad enjoyed on hersummervisits,andherehe was, eating alone,sleeping alone, ridingalone. That was notpreciselytrue,ofcourse,forhehadSabrina,whowas there to reassurehim.Afterthefirstthreedays, they summonedthe family physician,

whoconfirmedSabrina’sopinion that there wasnothing physicallywrongwithClare.

“Lady Whitton issuffering from completeexhaustion, Giles,” thedoctor announced.“Perhaps suffering isn’tthe right word,” headded. “Really her bodyis only doing what itneeds to do to restoreitself. She has been

throughalotthesepastmonths.Youwillhavetobepatient.”

“Thankyou,Doctor.”“You were right,

Sabrina,”Gilesadmittedafter the doctor hadgone.

“Give her time,Giles.”

Giving Clare almosta fortnight seemed likegiving her forever. Butwhen at last she came

downstairs,Gileshadtoadmit that she lookedmuch better than shehad in months. Theshadowsweregonefromunder her eyes, anddespitethefactthatshehadn’t been eating thatmuch, she had clearlyputonalittleweight.

She appeared forbreakfast one morningwithout anannouncement after

Giles and Sabrina hadseatedthemselves.

“Clare!” exclaimedSabrina, who saw herfirst. “Should you beup?”

Clarelaughed.“Afterall this time, I certainlyhope so, Sabrina. I feelvery well. And I wasn’treally sick, you know. Idon’t know what cameoverme,butIneededtorest.”

“I guess so,” saidGiles with a teasingsmile.“Itiswonderfultosee you up, LadyWhitton. Will you joinusforbreakfast?”

“I am quiteravenous,” Clareadmitted.

Giles gestured to afootman to fill her plateandwatchedhappily asshe ate almosteverythingonit.

“Doyouhavespecialplans for today, Giles?"Clare asked, aftersetting her fork downand looking at heralmost empty plate insurprise.

Gileshadplannedtoride over to thenorthwest corner of theestatetoconferwithoneof their tenants, butimmediately decidedthat the errand could

waitforadayortwo.Sohe said, “No, not really.Although it is a lovelyday for a ride. Do youcaretojoinme?”

Clare smiled over athim. “I was hoping Icould, Giles. Sabrina,”she added, turning tohissister.“Willyoujoinus?”

Sabrina had seenthe eager look in herbrother’s eyes and

shook her head.“Unfortunately I amcommitted elsewhere. Ipromised I would helpthe housekeeper in thestillroom.”

It was a beautifulday: sunny and warm,but with enough of abreeze to make itcomfortable for riding.Gilespickedoneoftheirfavoriteshortridesfromsummerspast:one that

led them along thecornfields and into asmallwoodthatwastheboundary betweenWhitton and SquireKirkman’s.Theyenjoyedseveral easy cantersacross the fields, andthen dismounted andledtheirhorsesthroughthe wood, enjoying acompanionable silence.Whentheyreachedtheirdestination, an old and

familiar fallen tree,Clarelaughed.

“I confess I hadforgotten about thisplace, Giles,” she saidasshehandedherreinsinto his outstretchedhands and sat herselfdown on the moss-coveredtrunk.

Gilestiedthehorsesandsatnexttoher.

“This has alwaysbeen one ofmy favorite

places on the estate,”saidGiles.

Clare gazed around.It was an almostperfectly circularclearing, surrounded bytall oak trees with onegap through which thesunpouredinashaftoflight.

“It is almostmagical.”

GilescoveredClare’shand with his. “It feels

like something akin tomagic to be here withyou,Clare.Tohaveyouasmywife.”

“I hope I can be agoodwifetoyou,Giles,”she said almost in awhisper. Her hand wasstill under his, and shewas very conscious ofhis thigh pressingagainst hers. Sheglanced up at him, andit was as though she

saw him for the firsttime: the glint of greenin his eyes, the pulsebeating in his tannedneck, and thecombination of bothstrengthandtendernessthatmadeup the curveofhismouth.

Giles reached out,removed her riding hat,andsmiledasherblondcurls sprang free. Hebrushed his hand

through them andmoved even closer.Clare’s breathingquickenedwitha small,sharp intake of breath,and Giles leaned downand placed his lips onhers. It was a gentlekiss, like all he hadgiven her, but longer.When she did notshrink from him, Gilespulledherintohisarmsand sought to deepen

the kiss by teasing hermouth open. It waseverything she hadhopedforfromhimthatsummer years ago, andshe responded eagerly.Yet almost immediatelyas she felt herselfbeginning to enjoy theembrace,shefeltherselfbecoming scared. Herpassionate feelings forJustin had only led toconfusion and pain,

both physical andemotional. The onlyexperiencesshehadhadwith physical love werewith a man whoalternately loved heruntilshediedagainandagain in his arms, andthen hated her. Howcould she trust herbody’sresponsesagain?

Giles could feel thepointatwhichshedrewback.Itseemedtobeat

the exact moment shebegan to relax into himandrespondtohiskiss.Forafewseconds,therehad been a warm andwilling woman in hisarms, and then apassivestatue.

Claredidnothavetosayaword, forGiles lethergoinstantly.

“I promised I wouldnotrushyou,Clare,andIwillkeepmypromise.”

“Ididnotaskyoutostop, Giles,” said Clare,feeling like she hadfailedhim.

“Youdidnothaveto,my dear. I know youwould allow me to kissyou, Clare. Perhapseven allow me to makelove to you. But I wantmore than your passiveacceptance.”

Although Gilesspoke patiently and

lovingly, Clare feltterrible.Shedidn’tknowhow to explain herfeelings to him, for shebarely understood themherself. She was apassionate lover, shehad been with Justin.But that part of herselfterrified her. Logically,sheknewthatGileswasnot Justin; that hewouldnevertreatherlike

her late husband had.But logic and reasondidn’tseemtomakeherirrational fear go away.It was physicalattraction, and hernewly discoveredcapacity for sensualenjoyment that had ledher into her disastrousmarriage.Thosefeelingsseemed dangerous anddestructive, and shewas not sure she could

open herself up in thatway to anyone again.And yet, if she couldnot, she was cheatingGiles of everything hewanted and deserved inawife.

“Iamsosorry,Giles”was all she could thinktosaytohim.

He patted hershoulder.“It isallright,Clare. We have all thetimeintheworld.”

****Giles took every

opportunity in the nextfewweekstoexpresshisaffection in ways thatClare could accept. Heknew, almost to thesecond, just how longshe would remainresponsive to his kissesand just when shewould pull back. Hewould think to himselfthathewas lucky tobe

anaturallypatientmanand one for whompassionwasonlyapartof love. An importantpart, of course, but notone that would causehim to losecontrolwithClare.Hehad lovedherfor a long time, and hewouldforalongtimetocome.Hehadgreatfaiththat shewould come torespond to hisundemanding love. If

not tomorrow, thensoon.

In themeantime,hewas happy to watchClare begin to look andact like her old self. Bytheendofamonth,shehad regained all theweight she had lost thelast two years. Butalthough she wanted tobegin learning thewaysof the house, Gilesinsisted that she let

Mrs. Stanton remain incharge for a little whilelonger. “I want you toenjoy this summer,Clare. To pretend thatthe last twoyearsneverhappened.”

She and Giles andSabrina rode andpicnicked, and whenAndrewMorearrivedforhisvisitatthebeginningof August, he wasamazed at the

transformation.“Youlookwonderful,

Clare,” he exclaimed ashe got down from hischaise.Sheputoutbothher hands to grasp his,and he marveled thatthe wraithlike LadyRainsborough had beentransformed into ahealthy-looking youngwoman whose blondcurlshadbeenbleachedby the sun and whose

dresses were no longerhangingoffher.Andrewpulledherintohisarmsand gave her a friendlyhug.

“Now, Andrew, whogave you permission toembrace my wife,” saidGiles with mock anger.“And is your onlygreetingforher?”

Andrew releasedClareandturningtohisfriend, pounded his

shoulder. “I see youhavewroughtsomethingof a miracle, Giles,” hesaid. “Marriage to youseemstohavebeenjustwhatClareneeded.”

Sabrina, who wasbeside Giles, wonderedwhen Andrew wouldrememberherpresence.Shehadenjoyedthelastfew weeks, for summerat Whitton was alwaysher favorite time of the

year.ButalthoughGilesand Clare were notenjoying a typicalhoneymoon, and shewas includedinmostoftheir activities, shecould not help feeling athirdwheelattimes.

Maybe her brotherdidnothave theperfectmarriage yet. But hewas married to thewomanhehadlovedforyears,whilesheseemed

likely to end up thespinster aunt to herbrother’s children whenthey began to comealong. She had beenlooking forward toAndrew’s visit, hopingthat during their timetogether she coulddeterminewhethertherewas any feeling for heronhispartorwhetheritwasallherownfantasy,and here he was,

ignoringher.Andrew was very

well aware of Sabrina.Indeed, although hisdelight at seeing Clarewas genuine, his hugwas as much a way tokeep from embracingSabrina as it was aspontaneous gesture ofaffection for Clare. Itwasveryhardforhimtokeep his feelings forGiles’s sister under

wraps, but he hadschooled himself well,and turned to her atlast, giving her a quicksmile and a friendlygreeting.

Sabrina’s heartsank. Nothing hadchanged. Andrew wasstill acting the friend ofthe family role healways had. Perhaps itwasn’t a role. Justbecauseshecouldsense

what her twin wasfeelingdidnotmeanshecould intuit anotherman’s reactions,Sabrina scolded herself.She wanted Andrew towant her. So much sothat she had likelydeceived herself andbuilt little nothings intosomething.Butshekeptthe smile on her faceand welcomed him toWhitton and directed

thefootmantobringhisbags up to the westwing where she hadgiven him the bedroomhehadalwaysoccupied.

“You know we keepcountry hours here,Andrew,” she said, “butwe have moved dinnerback an hour so thatyou will have time torest and freshen upbeforeyoujoinus.”

“Thank you,

Sabrina. You havealways been the mostthoughtfulhostess.”

****Andthatiswhatshe

remained for the nextfew days: a mostgracious hostess.Andrew should havebeen grateful. After all,themorepolitedistancethere was betweenthem, the easier it wasfor him to ignore his

feelingsforSabrina.Butin London they hadbecomea little closer toone another, had, hethought, started tobecomefriends,notjustthrough theirrelationshiptoGiles.Hethought Sabrina hadcome to appreciate himfor himself and hiseffortsonClare’sbehalf.But perhaps now thatClarewassafelymarried

to her brother, shewasnolongerinterestedinabarristerwhoworkedsocloselywithcriminals.

Sobeit:hecouldbeas polite and distantlyfriendlyasshe.

****Giles, who had

watched Sabrina movefrom disapproval toadmirationofAndrewinLondon, couldn’t helpbutnoticeherbehavior.

Not that there wasanything untowardabout it: she wasfriendly and alwaysappearedasthoughshewas enjoying Andrew’scompany. But as hertwin, he could tell thatshe was unhappy insome way, and so oneafternoon when Andrewhad gone off to thevillage and Clare wastaking a nap, Giles

joined his sister in thegarden where she wasdirectingthegardener.

After she finished,he puthis hand onherarm and said, “Come,sit down with me,Brina.”

Theystrolledovertothe oak bench andwatched the gardenerand his assistant filltheirbasketwithflowersfor the house. As they

moved out of earshot,Giles asked his sister ifanything was botheringher.

“Why no, why doyouask,Giles?”

“Because you havebeen so damned friendlytoAndrew.”

“Shouldn’t I be,Giles? He is our friend,after all,” Sabrinaresponded, keeping her

tonelight.“Brina, I know you

too well not to sensewhen you are unhappyabout something. I hadthought in London thatyou and Andrew hadgotten to know oneanother better. Thatperhaps...”

“Perhaps what,Giles?”

Giles could feel theeffortittooktokeepher

toneeven.“That perhaps you

and Andrew haddiscovered you wouldliketobemorethanjustfriends.”

“Andrew certainlydoes not seem to wantmore than a politeacquaintance,Giles.”

“And what do youwant,Brina?”

“Oh, I’ll admit it,Giles. To you, because

you know me too wellfor me to lie. I havealways been interestedin Andrew, ever sincehisfirstvisithere.AndIhave never met anyoneelse who was asattractive to me. Then,when I saw him withClare and at theinquest, my ... feelingsfor him became evenstronger. But it isridiculous for me to

think of him that way.He is oblivious to me,afterall.”

“He certainly hasnever shown you anymore attention thanwould be expected froma friend of the family,”musedGiles.

“No, he hasn’t,”agreed Sabrina with adespondentsigh.

“On the other hand,Brina, he is a younger

son. He is four timesremoved from the titleand most unlikely everto inherit. And to thehorror of his family, hespends his time amongthelowlifeofLondon.Hewould be unlikely toconsider himself aneligible suitor for theLady Sabrina Whitton,daughterofanearlandsomeone who has asubstantialportion.”

Sabrinasatsilentfora few moments. Therewas a murmur of bees,humming in and out ofthe herb garden, andthe air was redolentwith the scent of mintand thyme. She feltrelaxedforthefirsttimesince Andrew hadarrived. Maybe Gileswas right. She hadnever thought about itfrom Andrew’s

perspective before. Shehadneverthoughtofhisposition as an obstacle.Andrewwassonaturallysuperior to his olderbrother that shecouldn’t imagine himthinking that anywoman would prefer atitled bore to him, thequirkily intelligent andcommitted younger son.Butmen had a strangesense of honor, she

remindedherself.Honorseemed more importantto them than love, avery odd concept for awomantoappreciate.

“Ineverreallylookedat it that way before,Giles,” she finallyresponded.

“Mind you, Sabrina,I amnot saying he doescare. I don’t know that.ButIwouldnotbeatall

surprised if heconsidered only afriendship appropriatewithyou. Iamnotsurethis helps at all,” saidGiles, smilingsympathetically at hissister.

“Maybe I need toshowalittlemoreofmyfeelings, Giles. Whatwouldyouthinkofsucha match, if it were tocomeabout?”

“I would be veryhappy for you both,Sabrina. Andrew is theonlyman Ican thinkofwhoisamatchforyou.”

“Then wish meluck.”

ChapterTwenty-four

It was easier to

declareonewasgoingtobe more open than itwas to do it. Andrewseemed to have createda very effective distancebetween himself andSabrina.Hewasalwayspolite and friendly, butalso emotionallyremoved. But only from

me,thoughtSabrina,asshe watched Andrewand Clare for the nextfew days. They hadbecome fast friendsandwere obviously verycomfortable with eachother. All the warmththat Andrew kept fromSabrina was turned onClare.

One afternoon,dressed in old clothes,the four of them went

overtotheirold favoritefishing spot. It was awarm day, and Andrewand Giles gave onlyperfunctoryapologiesasthey took their jacketsoff and rolled up theirsleeves. Sabrina quicklyand efficiently baitedher own hook as Gileshad taught her yearsago, but Clare was stillas repulsed by the taskasever.BeforeGileshad

a chance to help her,Andrew stepped in anddiditforher.

“There you are,Clare. Just drop yourhookintothewater,andyou’ll forget what’swriggling at the end ofit.”

“I am still quitehopeless at this,” saidClarewithalaugh.“AndIwouldn’tknowwhattodowithafishifIcaught

itanyway.”“Do you remember

that awful trick Lucypulled years ago?”Sabrinaasked.

Clare blushed. Sheremembereditverywell,that feeling ofhelplessness beforeoutrightcruelty.

“I hope I would beable to act differentlynow,” Clare respondedquietly. “Ibelieve Ihave

changedalittleovertheyears.”

There were a fewmoments ofuncomfortable silenceasallbusiedthemselvesfinding a place on thebank of the stream,while thinking aboutClare and her latehusband.

Giles broke thesilence first, for Gilesdid not like to think

about JustinRainsboroughorhowhedied. He understoodClare’s action; a part ofhim applauded it. Butmostly he couldn’tcontemplate either howshe had lived with himorhowshehadescapedhim.

“Do you supposethat old pike is stillaround, Brina?" heasked. “Remember how

weusedtospendhourstryingtocatchhim?"

“Iseemtorememberthat I was the only oneever to hook him,”braggedAndrew.

“Hooked, but notlanded,”Giles remindedhim.

“I couldn’t help it ifmy line broke! I hopethistimeyouhavegivenme a strong enoughline,Giles.”

“Are you suggestingthat I gave you an oldline on purpose,Andrew?" said Giles,withmockoutrage.

“Oh, hush, you two,Wewon’tcatchanythingifyoukeepmakingsucha racket,” Sabrinademanded.

They all settleddown. Clare was sittingnext to Andrew, andGiles and Sabrina were

standing a few feetaway. They were at apoint in the streamwhere the water hadcollected into a deepblack pool beforespilling over a rockyledge. Under the ledgeontheirsidewasaspotprotected by reeds andoverhung by an oldwillow tree. That waswhere the big fish wasbelieved to spend his

time, and all of themhadtossedtheirlinesinthatdirection.

Giles felt somethingfirst, but all he hadcaught was a smalltrout. “You would mostlikelyhavebeen the oldpike’s dinner, so youmight as well be ourlunch,” he said as hetossed the fish into hiscreel.

The sun warmed

their shoulders andnecks, and the onyxwater looked like itwashardly flowing. Theywere all in that semi-mesmerized state thatutter relaxation canbring, when Sabrina’ssudden gasp startledthem.

Her pole was bentalmost in half, and shehadalmostlostitinthesudden,powerfultug.

“MyGod,Sabrina, ifyoudon’thavehim,youmusthavehookedsomesort of monster,”exclaimedGiles.

Andrew walkedslowly to her side,speaking calmly andrhythmically, almostchantingencouragement andinstruction.

“That’s right, Brina,letthepoledownalittle.

Lethimfeelsomeslack.Not too much, or he’llslip the hook. That’sright, Brina, that’sright.” Sabrina was toointent on landing herfishtotakeitin,buthermind must haveregistered it, for latershe remembered thatAndrew had called herby the name only Gilesused.

“Now,keepthatpole

up and move back alittlefromthebank.Yes,yes,thereheis.”

They could see thewater churning as thegreatfishcameclosertothe surface. Clare wasstanding now, too, asintent as the others onthe struggle, but themore the old giantattempted toescape thehook, the moresympatheticshebecame

to him, the more shesilentlywishedhimwell,not Sabrina. She knewwhatitwastobecaughtlike that, and shewouldn’t wish it onanyone,evenafish.

Thepiketurnedandswam for the oppositebank, and Sabrinathoughtherarmsmightseparate from theirsockets.Shewasdrawninexorably toward the

bank.“Don’t move in,

Brina, move back,”shoutedGiles.

“I can’t help it,” sheexclaimed, amazed atthe power at the end ofherline.

The pole wasn’tbent, but almost levelwiththeground,forshedidn’thave thestrengthtoliftit.

Andrew quickly

steppedbehindher andputtinghisarmsaroundherwaist,said: “I’vegotyou, Brina. Now pullhimin.”

She wasn’t slidinganymore, so she couldput all herconcentrationintoliftingthe pole. Slowly shepulled it up, but notenoughtobringthepiketothesurface.

“I don’t think I can

dothis,”shegasped.“Do you want to

land him on your own,or should I help?”Andrew asked, his faceclosetohers,hisbreathagainstherneck.

“Grab the pole,Andrew,” Sabrina criedwithout even thinking,and letting go of herwaist and pulling herinto him, Andrewreachedaroundandput

his hands on the pole.Together they lifted andall at once, it seemedthe old fish rose out ofthe water, dull pewterturned to silver in thesun.

As the pike rose,Andrew felt himself riseashewas pressed evencloser to Sabrina, andhe prayed that shewastoo intent on herstruggle to become

awareofhisarousal.The pole was bent

double again, andAndrew prayed aloudthat the line would notsnapasheandSabrinaslowlymovedbackward,pulling the fish withthem.

“All right, now,”Andrew said, and theyjerkedupandback.Theoldpike landedflopping

on thebankasSabrinaand Andrew lost theirbalance and their griponthepole.

Thefishwasrightonthe edge of the bank,still leaping as thoughair were water. Hecouldn’t get very high,but Clare realized thathewasgoing tobeabletorollhimselfrightoverthe bank and silentlycheered him in his

heroic effort. Then sherealized that the hookwas still in his mouth,stillattachedto the lineand the pole. Withoutthinking,shescrambledover. She put her handdown as gently as shecould on the wrigglinggiant, and when thatmade him move evenmore, she wrapped herskirt over him to traphim, and grabbing the

side of his head, shebegan towork thehookoutofhismouth.

“Clare,whatareyoudoing?"exclaimedGiles.

Clareworkedasfastas she could, knowingthat shewasn’t doing iteasily, only quickly andpainfully. Finally it wasfree,leavingajaggedripin the jaw, which shewas sure would heal.She looked at the pike

and whispered: “There,youarefreeagain.”Andlifting her skirt, shetossedhimbackintothewater.

AndrewandSabrinahad scrambled up bythen andwere standingasopenmouthedasanyfish. Clare turned toface them. “Iamsorry,”she said, in a low,chokedvoice.“Icouldn’tstandit.Icouldn’tstand

seeing him played withand trapped like that.”Tears were runningdownhercheeksandasGiles stepped towardher, she motioned himback. “I am sorry tospoilthefishing,Giles.Ihave never enjoyed it,”she added, amazingherself and them. “Notthewormsorthefishonthehook.Onlythequietand the trees and sun

and water. I shouldhave told you yearsago.” She looked downatherdressandsmiled.“I am as dirty as whenLucythrewthosewormsat me, aren’t I! I amgoingbacktothehousetochange.”

“You can’t go alone,Clare,” said Giles. “I’llcomewithyou.”

“Nonsense. You allstayhere,andIwillsee

you at tea.” With that,she turned and startedbrisklyforWhitton.

Andrew looked overathis two friends.Gileswas looking after Clareand then back at thewater, as though tryingto take in the fact thatshe had actually tossedthe biggest fish inSomersetshire back inthe pool. Sabrina wasstanding there, pushing

her hair back from herface with a muddyhand, leavinghercheekstreaked with dirt. Herdress was torn at thehem, where Andrewmusthavesteppedonitwhen they went down.Andrew looked down athimself. Thank God hewas no longer aroused.But his pants were asmuddy as Sabrina’shands. He let out a

great shout of laughter.“GoodforClare!”

“Whatever got intoher?”askedSabrina.

“She threw himback,” said Giles, stillunable to believe thathis wife had actuallytossedawaysuchafish.“Why, that fish is alegendaroundhere.”

“You caught him,Sabrina,” crowed

Andrew.“Andwe landedhim,

Andrew. I couldn’t havedone it without you.”She suddenlyremembered thesensation of Andrewpressed close againsther and turnedaway tofuss with her dress inorder to hide herflamingcheeks.

“Oh, well,” said

Giles, resigned to fate.“What would we havedone with him butmounthimon thewall.He was too old to eat.ButIcan’tbelieveClarehas hated fishing allthese years,” he addedwith such naiveamazement that he setAndrew andSabrina offintogalesoflaughter.

“Oh, all right youtwo. I suppose I should

haveknown.Oratleastrealized that Clarewould never have saidanything. At least shehas enjoyed part of it,hasn’t she?” he asked,wondering to himselfhow many things Clarehad not told him,wondering how well heknewhiswifeafterall.

“Come on, Giles,bring the trout, andwe’ll have him cooked

fortea,”saidSabrina.“Ifor one have done myshare of fishing for theday!”

****Clare walked home

feelingbothexhilarationand fear. For once inher life, she had saidwhat shewantedand itleft her with thesensation of havingjumpedoffacliff.Itwasexciting,thisnewfeeling

of having some power,but also frightening.Whatever would Gilessay to her? She wassure hemust be angry,both at her cheatingthem out of the mostfamous fish in thecounty and for finallyadmitting that shedidn’t like fishing andneverhad.

When they allgathered for tea,

however, therewasonlya little good-naturedteasing from Andrewand Sabrina, withGilesjoining in the laughter.But Clare was sure hewas only politely hidinghis displeasure. Thatevening, after sheretired, instead of goingright to sleep, shestayed awake until sheheardhimcomeupfromthelibrarywhereheand

Andrew had had anightcap.

She knocked softlyon the adjoining door,and Giles opened it, alook of surprise on hisface. He dismissed hisvalet and invited Clarein.

“No, I won’t stay,Giles. I just wanted toapologize for thisafternoon.Iamsureyoumust be very annoyed

withme.”“Notannoyed,Clare.

Just surprised. I neverdreamed you felt thatway about fishing alltheseyears.”

“How could youhave. And I haveenjoyed all but theactualfishing,Giles.”

Giles smiledquizzically.

“No, Iam telling thetruth,” protested Clare.

“The walks to thestream and the freshair. Even watching thewaterisveryrelaxing.Itwas just that untiltoday, I would pretendthat no fish were beingcaught. That wasn’t toohard, since I nevercaught anything!” Clarewas slowly becomingconscious that herhusband was standingtherewithouthiscravat,

his shirt half-open. ShenotedwithpleasurethatGiles had dark browncurls of hair on hischest. Justin’s chesthadbeensmooth...butno,shewouldnotthinkofJustin.

Giles reached outandpushedClare’shairback fromher facewithonefinger.Sheliftedhermouth toward himwithout thinking, and

he bent down andkissed her. She wasopen to him, and hesensed the differenceimmediately,sohedrewher into his arms anddeepened the kiss. Hermouth opened underhis, and he gentlyprobedwith his tongue.When she gave a littlemoan of pleasure, hegave himself hungrilyand completely to the

kissuntilhefeltherpullaway.

“I am sorry, Clare, IknowIpromised.”

“No, no, I want youto,Giles.ItisonlythatIam quite breathless,”Clare said with a shysmile.

They were standingalmost in the doorwaybetween the two rooms,and Giles looked overhershouldertoherbed.

“Yourbedlooksveryinviting,Clare.Johndidnot have a chance toturnminedownyet.Wewould be much morecomfortableinyours?”

Clare didn’t answer,butlethimleadheroverto the big four-poster.Giles sat her down onthe edge and slowlypulledtheribbononherdressing gown. It wassilk, as was her night

rail and as soon as heopened it, it slipped offher shoulders likewater.

“It is your turn,Clare,”hesaid,noddingtowardhisshirt.

Clare reached outwith shaking fingersand managed to undothebuttonstohiswaistand then froze, for hisshirt was still tuckedinto his breeches. Giles

took her hands in hisand kissed her again,gently nibbling her lipsand then her earlobe.Hiswarmbreathonherneck was deliciouslyarousing,andshecouldfeel herself becomingslippery andwet as hercenterturnedtoliquid.

She had never feltthis way with Gilesbefore. What she wasexperiencing now was

similar towhatshehadwithJustin.Surely thatwas a good thing, shethought, as she feltGiles cup her breast inhis hand. It feltwonderful to reach herown hand out and runherfingerslightlyuphisbelly over the soft fur.Anditgaveherpleasureto hear him groan withpleasure. To know thatat least she was giving

himwhathehadalwayswantedandsodeserved.

But when hewhispered, “Just aminute, Clare,” andstood with his back toher,pullingoffhisshirtand breeches, shewished he had not lefther alone on the bed.For all the warmth inher belly was turningslowly into emptiness.And when he turned

toward her, hismanhood juttingupward, she had tolower her eyes. Shehopedhewouldthinkitshyness rather thanfear.Shelethimslipoffthe night rail andmoveherdownontothebed.

She couldn’t stophim, she decided. Hewas her husband, hewas her loving friend,

and he had never beenanything but good toher. She owed him anormal marriage. Thiswould have occurredsooner or later, sheknew, for he not onlydesired her, he wantedanheir.Sheonlywishedshe could give him herwhole self, but at theveryleastshecouldgivehim her body andpretend that she hadn’t

retreatedinfear.Giles had wanted

thefirsttimewithClaretobeleisurelyandmorepleasurableforherthanhimself. But perhapsthe fact that shewasn’ta virgin and thereforewould not experienceany pain, affected hisown responses, for hewas unable to controlhis own desire as longas he wished. He was

inside her soon, drivento it by her soft moansashe circledherbreastwith his tongue. Shewas ready for him, heknew, for his fingershad told him that, andso when she lifted herhipstoinvitehimin,hethrustintoher.

Clare felt she wastwo people: the womanon the bed makingnoises of simulated

pleasure and awraithlike self hoveringsomewhereinthecornerof the ceiling gazingdown.Shewantedtobethere for Giles, but shecouldn’tbe,forapartofherwasbackinthepastwith Justin. Justin hadmade love to her, hadawakened her passion,had brought her toclimaxagainandagain,when she opened her

deepestselftohim.Andthen Justin hadbrutalized her. Shecouldn’t help feelingthatthetwothingswereconnected: exquisitelypleasurablevulnerability that led tounimaginableterror.

When Giles reachedhis own climaxmurmuring her nameover and over, she heldhimclose.Andwhenhe

lifted himself up andlowered his hand tobringherafinalrelease,she gently pushed himaway.

“I am sorry, Clare. Ididn’t intend this firsttimetobesoquick.ButI wish to give you yourpleasure.”

“Itisallright,Giles,”Clare whispered. “Yourpleasure is mine, too.”And that was partially

true. A part of her hadbeen there with Giles,and shewas happy thatshe was at last able togivehimthis.

“Youaresure?”“Yes, my love.” The

endearment camenaturally to her lips,surprisingbothofthem.GilesturnedonhissideandpulledClareagainsthim. As he dropped

kisseson the topofherhead,hemurmured,“AllI have ever wanted wasthis, Clare, to hold youandtocherishyou.”

ChapterTwenty-five

The next morning

whenGilesawoke,Clarewasalreadyup,washedanddressed.Sheleanedover thebedandkissedhis forehead. “I find Iam ravenous thismorning,Giles,”shetoldhim with a becomingblush. “Iwill seeyou inthe breakfast room

soon?” Despite theircloseness the nightbefore, he sensed againabarrierbetween them.Although this morning,it did not feel quite asstrong. And perhaps afew nights like the lastwould bring it downcompletely.

When Giles camedown a quarter of anhour later, Sabrina andAndrew were already

there, discussing theirplansfortheday.

“I thought we hadagreed to ride intoWells,” Sabrina wassaying.

“We had, but thatwas two days agowhenthere wasn’t a cloud inthe sky,” Andrewreplied.

“There are not thatmany clouds thismorning,Andrew.Ifyou

are not up to the ride,justtellme.”

Andrew sighed aresigned “I suppose Iwill have to toleratethis” sigh, whichannoyed Sabrinaimmensely. “It isuncommonly warm andhumid, Sabrina, and Iwager that those fewfluffycloudsweseenowwillbethunderheadsbythe afternoon. I think a

shorterrideiswiser.Wecould go into thevillage.”

“But I need a newpair of riding gloves,whichonecanonlyfindinWells,”sheprotested.“Giles, tellAndrew ifwestart a little earlier, wewillmisstheweather. Ifthereis,indeed,goingtobeany,”sheadded.

“Whatdo you think,Clare?” Giles asked,

turningtohiswife.Clarelookedupfrom

her plate. “It is quiteclose as Andrew says,but the sky is relativelyclear. I would hate todisappoint Sabrina.And, I confess, I waslooking forward to theride.”

Giles looked over atAndrew, who threw uphishands. “I surrender.If the ladies are

adventurous enough,whoamItostopus.”

“AndMrs.Fleckhasalready prepared us apicnic lunch,” Sabrinainformed them, asthough Mrs. Fleck’sgood food was thedeciding factor toensuregoodweather.

****They set out a half

hour earlier than theyhadplanned,before the

sunwastoohighinthesky. Two hours fromWhitton, there was anold ruined keep wheretheyplannedtorestandeat. Wells was only ahalfhourbeyondthat.

It was unseasonablywarm, even for earlyAugust, thoughtSabrina, as she felt theback of her neckbecome wet with

perspiration. Shequickly glanced up atthe sky, and wasreassured. It was stillblue, still only dottedhere and there withclouds.

Theyhada feweasygallops,butforthemostpart did not push theirhorses,andby the timethey reached the ruin,theywerealreadyalittlebehind schedule,

despite the earlydeparture.

Mrs. Fleck hadprovided them with asimple, light meal: coldchicken and ham,cheese,freshbread,andsome very small, earlyapples. There werebottles of ale andlemonade, whichalthough not cold, werestill cool enough fromthe cellar to be

refreshing.They tethered their

horsesintheshadeofalarge beech tree, andAndrew and Gilesspread rugs on thegrass inside the oldkeep. The crumbledstonewallsreachedhighenough toprovide someshade,anditwasaverypleasantpicnicindeed.

“I expect that whenwereachWells,youmay

feel embarrassed,Clare,”saidAndrewwithunwontedseriousness.

“Whatever for,Andrew?” she asked,sudden concern writtenall overher face.Surelyword of her trial hadbeen heard andforgottenquicklyhere?

“Iamsurewordhasspread that youare thewomanwho threw backthe biggest and oldest

fish in the county. Iwould not be surprisedif there were placardsgreeting us as we ridein.”

Giles laughed, andClaregiggled.

“That was unfair,Andrew,” said Clare. “Iwas worried you meantnews of the trial hadproceededme.”

Andrew wasimmediately repentant.

“I apologize, Clare,” hesaid,reachingouttopather shoulder. “I nevereventhoughtofthat.”

“Nor should any ofus,” said Giles. “It isover and done with,Clare. You are now mywife, the ViscountessWhitton.”

Sabrina looked overat her brother. Therewas something differentin his tone today. He

sounded surer of Clare.He sounded satisfied.Shefelthercheeksgrowwarmatthepicturethatflashed through herhead. She was all of asudden sure that Gilesand Clare were verymuch husband andwife.

The shade and thecoolness the stonesprovided were sowelcome that no one

wanted to move, butfinallyAndrewgot themgoing. They reachedWells very quickly andspent a lovely hourbrowsing through theshops. Sabrina foundher pair of gloves, andClare found a length ofribbon just the perfectshade of green fortrimming one of hermorningdresses.Bythetime they reached the

lendinglibrary,however,the heat had becomeeven more oppressiveand the shop itself feltlikeanoven.

Giles had beenwatchingClarecarefullyfor any sign that shewas overheated orfatigued. When he sawhersitdownonasmallchair against the wall,hewentovertoherandafter a short

conversation, came upbehindSabrina.

“Brina, Clare isfeeling undone by thisinfernalheat.Ithinkweshouldgo.”

“Oh, Giles, Ipromised Mrs. Pleckthat I would see if thegrocers had somevanilla beans. She isout, and the grocers inStreet doesn’t carrythem.”

“Why don’t you andClarestarthomeslowly,Giles,andwewill catchup with you,” saidAndrew. “I can hurrySabrina along to thegreengrocers.”

Giles lookedrelieved.“Allright.”

Sabrina, whoseemedmostannoyinglyimpervious to the heat,spent another fifteenminutes browsing the

lending library shelves,finally choosing MissAusten’s latest and onefromtheMinervaPress.

Then, when theyreachedthegrocers,shetook her time, chattingaway to the proprietorand trying to decide ifshe should bring thecook some cinnamonsticks aswell. “She canget these in Street, butthe quality here is so

muchbetter.”“Wrapthemup,too,”

said Andrew, pullingsome coins out of hispocket.

Sabrina was justopening her reticule.“Andrew, don’t be silly.Thisallcomesoutofthehousehold money. Youdon’tneedtodothis.”

“Letme,Sabrina,asagestureofgratitudeforyour hospitality. I

assureyou, Icanaffordit,” he addedsarcastically.

“I never meant thatyou couldn’t, Andrew,”sherespondedcoolly.

Damn the woman,and damn his responsetoher, thoughtAndrew.Shecouldarousehimtodesire or annoyance orangerinamoment.

By the time theymounted their horses,

Giles and Clare were agood hour ahead ofthem, and when theyreachedtheruin,itwasclear that they had notwaited.

“Oh, dear, theydidn’t wait for us,” saidSabrina.

“We did say aquarter of an hour,”respondedAndrew.

Heglancedupatthesky. “Iexpect thatGiles

decideditwasn’twisetowait any longer,” headded, pointing to thehugethunderheadsthatwere forming directlyaheadofthem.

“You can say it,Andrew.”

“Saywhat?”“I told you so. We

are riding right intothem,aren’twe?”

Andrew grinned. “Iresigned myself to this

possibility hours ago,Sabrina. Come, let usseeifwecanoutridethestorm.”

When they reachedthe halfway point,however,itbecameclearthat they weren’t goingto make it to Whittonbefore a cloudburst.Jagged streaks oflightning were lightingup a landscapesuddenly gone dark,

followed by greatrumblingsofthunder.

“It is moving righttoward us, isn’t it,Andrew?”

“Yes. I don’t mindgetting wet, Sabrina. Infact,itwouldalmostfeelrefreshing,” he added.“But the lightningworries me. Do youknow of any place wecould take shelterbetween here and

home?”Sabrina thought for

a minute. “There is adeserted cottage just afew miles from here. Ithink we can make itbefore the stormbreaks.”

They had beensparing of their horsesuntil now, but as theyrode toward themenacing clouds, theypushedthemashardas

theydared.Sabrina was leading

the way, and at onepoint, when her hatblew off and her hairtumbleddownherback,she turned to Andrewand laughed. That wassomething he lovedabouther, thatshewaswilling to ride into theteeth of the storm andenjoythemoment.

Sabrina pulled her

horseupattheedgeofasmall field. “I think thecottage is over there,Andrew,” she said,pointing to a smallcopse. A large crack ofthunder startled thehorses, and Andrewquicklydismountedandgrabbed Sabrina’smare’sbridle.

“Get down, Brina,quickly.”

Sabrinasliddown.

They were onlyhalfway across the fieldwhen the heavensopened. Sabrina threwback her head as if todrinkintherain.

“Keep moving,”shoutedAndrew.Hehadnever seen such astorm.Therewashardlyany time now betweenthe flashes of lightninganddeafening cracks ofthunder, and they were

very exposed in themiddleofthefield.

They finally reachedthecopseandfoundthesmall path to thecottage.

“There is a shedaround the back,Andrew,” Sabrinashouted. “We must getthehorsesoutofthis.”

Andrew pushed herin front of him. “Getinsidenow,andI’ll take

careofthehorses.”Sabrina pushed the

door to the cottageopen. She hadn’t beenhere for years, but thedamp, musty smellcarried her back tochildhood.

It looked the sameinside. There was aricketyoldtableandtwochairsinwhatwasusedas the kitchen. Therewas still the old cot

againsttheotherwall.She stood dripping

on the threshold untilshe heard Andrewrunningupbehindher.

“For God’s sake, getinside,Brina,”heyelled,grabbing her arm andpushing them throughthe door. He pulled itclosedbehindthem,andtheyboth jumpedasanalmost simultaneousbolt of lightning and

crash of thunderseemed tosurround thecottage.

“It can’t get anyworse than that,” saidSabrina, laughingshakily as they bothstood in the middle ofthe small dwellingwatching the rain comedown insheetspastthewindow. Her hair wasplastered to her head,

and her light summerridinghabitclungtoherfigure in such a waythatAndrewhadtoturnhisbacktoher.Hisownbreeches were stuck tohisskin,andhe turnedhis thoughts tounpleasant thing likehowmanymiceandratsmight have taken upresidence here to keephis arousal undercontrol.

When he turnedback, Sabrina wastrying to do somethingwith her hair, whichhung heavy andwet onhershoulders.

“Sit down,” saidAndrew, pulling a chairoutfromthetable.

She sat downgingerly, wonderingwhetherthechairswereas worm-eaten as theshakingtable.

“Now put your headback.”

Sabrina leaned herhead back and closedhereyessothatshedidnothavetogazedirectlyatAndrew.He liftedherhair up and twisted ittogetheruntil it felt likea thick rope in hishands and then wrungitout.

“I feel like awasherwoman,” he said

with a laugh asrainwater fell on thefloor. “But at least yourhair won’t be quite aswet and heavy.” Helooked around quickly.“There doesn’t seem tobeanythingaroundthatcould serve as a towel,unfortunately.” He lether hair down on herback and then ran hisfingersgentlythroughittoseparate thestrands.

A few tendrils sprangback into curls by herears and without eventhinking,hereachedouttoplaywiththem.

Sabrina sat there ina trancelikestateawareofnothingbutAndrew’shands. She would bequitehappyifthestormwent on forever, sherealized. Suddenly, hishands were still, and

she said, withoutthinking, “Don’t stop,Andrew.”

“Imust,Sabrina,”herepliedinalowvoiceashe drew his handsthroughherhairforonelasttime.

Reaching back,Sabrina caught one ofhis hands before hecould pull away, placedit on her shoulder, andleanedherheadagainst

it. Andrew turned hishand so that it cuppedher cheek, and shesighedwithpleasure.

“We can’t do this,Sabrina.”

“Do what, Andrew?”shewhispered.

He pulled away andwalked over to thewindow, peering out asthough he could seesomething beyond therain.

Sabrina turned inher chair and gazed atthisback.Hisshoulderswere squared, and hewas gripping thewindow-sill with bothhands, as though tokeep himself anchoredthere.

She got up andwalked over to standnexttohim,placingherleft hand on top of hisright.

“For God’s sake,Sabrina...”

Sabrinaloosenedhisfingers and lifted hishandtoherlips.

Andrew, who hadfelt his control slippingfrom him, let it gocompletely and turning,grabbed her up in afierce embrace. Andthen, as quickly as hehadcrushedheragainsthim,helethergo.

“Sabrina, please goand sit down at thetable,” he said in abrokenwhisper.

Sabrina stood there,frozen into immobilitybyhisrejection.

“I will not do this. Iwill not compromiseyou,Sabrina.Please.”

“Damn you, AndrewMore,” Sabrinamutteredasshewalkedwithexaggerateddignity

tothekitchentableandsatdown.

“Thank you. I amsure the rain will stopsoon,andwecanbeonourway.”

“And pretend thisnever happened,Andrew?Doyouthinkitisassimpleasthat?OrdoyouthinkIaminthehabit of letting mencrush the breath out ofmybody?”

“This never shouldhave happened,Sabrina.AndofcourseIdo not think of you aswanton. It ... itwas thestorm.”

“What it was,Andrew, is the fact thatIloveyou,”saidSabrinawhose teeth werechatteringfromboththeterror of admitting herfeelings and her coldwetclothing.

Andrew, who hadnot moved from thewindow, eagerly startedtoward Sabrina beforecatching himselfhalfway across theroom.

“You can’t,” herespondedbluntly.

“Well,Ido.Ihaveforsome time now. AndwhyIamsofoolishastoadmit it, I am sure Idon’tknow,”sheadded,

her arms wrappedaround herself to keepthedeepshuddersin.

Andrew finallynoticedhershakingandlooked around thecottage again forsomething to putaround her shoulders.The only thing he sawwas a moth-eaten oldblanket on the cot.Praying that there wereno live inhabitants of

eitherbedorblanket,heshook it out and gentlydraped it acrossSabrina’s shoulders.She clutched theblanketaroundher,andAndrew, who onlywanted to pull heragainst him and warmherwithhisbody,drewback.

“It is unfortunatethatyoudonot feel thesame way,” she

continued. “But don’tworry, I will notembarrassyouagain.”

Andrew’s controlbroke at last, and hesmashed his fist downon the table, causing itto shake and wobbleunderhim.

“You think I goaround embracing anywomaninthatway?Youthink I was onlyconsumedbylust?Itell

you, Sabrina, if it wasdesire alone I felt foryou, Iwouldneverhavestopped. Oh, I love youallright.MorefoolI.”

Sabrina’sfaceshonewith sudden joy. “Doyou mean that,Andrew?" she asked,letting the blanket slipoff her shoulders andreaching out for hishand.

“Ido,Godhelpme,I

do.Butdon’tlookatmelike that, Brina. Itdoesn’t changeanything.”

“Butwhynot?”“Because I am a

poor barrister whoseown family despairs atmy activities. Becauseyou are an earl’sdaughter and I am ayoungest son, veryremoved from the title.You could have any

noblemaninLondon.”“I don’t want any

nobleman, thank you,”Sabrina repliedacerbically. “I wantyou.”

“You can’t haveme,Brina,” replied Andrewwithoneofhisquizzicalgrins. “I will save youfrom yourself and me.What kind of friendwouldIbetoGileswereI to take advantage of

hissister’sinfatuation.”“Infatuation!Iamno

poor foolish missblinded by infatuation,Andrew. I see you veryclearly. And what I seeis a man whose pridewould keep us bothfromhappiness.”

“Pride? I have justtold you all the reasonswhy I amnotworthy ofyou. Iwouldhardly callthatpride!”

“But it is,Andrew.Averymasculine belief inhonor and duly, whichplaces them both abovelove. But I am notproud, Andrew. And Iwillnotgiveup.”

“Thatisyourchoice,Sabrina. Perhaps whenyou realize that I amvery serious, you willgive the fever a chancetobumout.”

Bothwereveryquiet

forafewminutes.“The rain has

stopped,” Andrew said,getting up suddenly. “Itis time we returned toWhitton.Iwillgogetourhorses, my lady.” Hisfacewasshuttered,andSabrina knew that onlysomething like anotherviolent storm wouldbreak through AndrewMore'sreserve.

****

When they finallyarrivedbackatWhitton,Giles greeted themwithgreatrelief.

“Thank you forkeeping Sabrina safe,”he said to Andrew laterthat evening after thewomen had retired. “Iamsuremy incorrigiblesister would have beenready to ride throughtheworstofthestorm.”

“Even the intrepid

Sabrina was willing toseek shelter, Giles. Thelightning was trulyterrifying.YouandClarewere lucky to be aheadofit.”

“Yes, and if Sabrinahadn’t taken so muchtimeinWells,youwouldhave been, too,” saidGileswithalaugh.“Butthat iswhat Imost loveabout Sabrina. Herreckless determination.

It is, at the same time,her greatest strengthandweakness.”

Andrew nodded andchanged the subject.After a half hour’sconversation, he tookone last sip of brandyand stood up. “I ammore than ready forbed,Giles,aftersuchanafternoon. And Giles, Ithink I will be leavingthe day after tomorrow.

You can inform Mrs.Stantonofthat.”

“I thought you werestaying until Mondaynext?” Giles responded,surprise anddisappointment in hisvoice.

“IrememberedthatIhave some preparationto do with my solicitoronatroublesomecase.”

“I see. Well, we willcertainly miss your

company. EspeciallySabrina,” Giles added,just as Andrew closedthe library door behindhim.

****Andrew spent the

following day avoidingSabrina as best hecould without seemingimpolite and left earlythenextmorningbeforebreakfast. His journeyback to London was

tedious and depressing,forhefelthewasleavingbehind the one chancefor happiness with awoman he might everhave.Yethehadknownfor years that she wasnot for him, and hadmanaged to resignhimself to that fact. Itwas only that damnedthunderstorm that hadbroken down his hard-won reserve. That, and

Sabrina herself. Hewould have preferredmakingafoolofhimselfby confessing a one-sided passion. At leastSabrina’s indifferencewould have addedanother barrier. But toknow that his love wasreturned,nomatterthatforheritwaslikelyonlyinfatuation; well, thatwasveryhardindeed.

ChapterTwenty-six

Giles watched his

sister very closely afterAndrew’s departure. Hecould tell that she wasunhappy, but since shefeigned indifference andhadnotconfidedinhim,he hesitated to invadeher privacy. And hehimself was ratherpreoccupied with his

own dilemma of theheart.

Giles had alwaysdreamed of a marriagelikehisparents,whereacouple so enjoyed eachother’s company thatthey shared onebedroom. While it wastrue that the doorbetween their roomswasnowopen,Gilesfeltmore like a visitor toClare’s bed. A welcome

visitor, he hoped. Forthe most part, he wassure of his welcome.Clare always seemedgenuinely glad to seehiminthedoorwayandwasanactivepartnerintheirlovemaking.

Yet there wassomething missing.Gilesstillhadthefeelingthat at times, Clareretreated behind somebarrier, even in their

mostintimatemoments.And although his wifegavetheappearanceofawoman being satisfied,Giles was beginning towonder if her releasewas, in fact, genuine.Her responses were, herealized, relativelyunvaried and beginningto seem lessspontaneous.Ofcourse,he was too much agentlemantomakesuch

an accusation. But itwasbeginningtobotherhim. If Clare was onlypretending to besatisfied, what did thatmean? Was she onlyadmitting him to herbed out of a sense ofdutyorpityafterall?

He did not considerhimself as any sort ofsexual expert, but hehad been able to bringtheotherwomenhehad

been with to a muchmoreabandonedstateofpleasure. And thosewomen included tworespectable widows, notonly those from theranksofthefashionableimpure.

Yet Clare sogenuinely enjoyed thepreliminaries of theirlovemakingandcuddledagainst him soaffectionately afterward

thathedecidedtotrytoletgoofhisconcern fora while. They werenewlywedsafterall,andshehadbeenthroughaterrible ordeal. Timewould probably takecareofeverything.

Clare herself felttorn. On the one hand,as Giles could tell, herwelcome was genuineand her enjoyment ofhis kisses and caresses

very real. On the otherhand, as soon as shefelt her own passionbuilding, somethingclicked off inside her,leaving her lying thereon the bed, watchingGiles’sattemptstobringhertoherownclimaxasthough they were twootherpeople.

IShe reassured himas best she could, thattheir coupling was as

enjoyable for her as itwas for him, and, infact,madeadeterminedeffort to initiate it a fewtimes so that he wouldbeconvincedshemeantit. But he deservedbetter. She feltincreasingly guilty thatshecouldn’tgiveamostloving and gentlehusband what she hadgiven a brutal one: thegift of her innermost

self.Clare would not

have said that she wasmiserable in hermarriage. But as thesummerturnedtofall,itbecame increasinglyclear that neither shenor Giles was perfectlyhappy in it. Perhaps“perfect happiness” wasunrealistic to expecttwiceinonelifetime,shethought with some

irony. And look at theprice shehadpaidwithJustin for thosemoments of ecstasy.And how real, after all,had that happinessbeen? Yes, there hadbeen many times withJustin when theirbodies and souls hadbeeninsocloseaunionthat she felt as if theywere one person. Andthenthathusband,who

felt like her soul’s twin,had blacked an eye orbrokena rib.She couldnot get herself beyondthat. Her courtroomtestimony had been thereality, and she neverwanted to rememberagain.

Although Clare wasincreasingly aware ofwhatwasmissinginhermarriage, she was notso miserable as to be

ignorant of Sabrina’sunhappiness. Onemorning, shortly afterthe harvest, she invitedSabrina to come for aridewithher.

“It will be an easyone, Sabrina, and wewill return beforelunch,” she laughinglywarned her sister-in-law, knowing howSabrina loved long andchallenging rides across

country.Sabrina smiled.

“That will be fine withmetoday,Clare.Itistoowarm to go too fast orfar.”

Indeed,theheathadbeen building again forthe past few days, andthe harvesters hadconstantly been lookingover their shoulders asthey worked, hoping toget the corn in before

theweatherbroke.They enjoyed a slow

canter for part of theirride, but the horseswere soaking wetafterward, aswere theirriders,andafterwalkingtheir mounts to coolthem, Sabrina aridClare dismounted andled them up CamdenHill.

“It feels just like theday we all rode to

Wells,” said Clare,sitting down on thegrass. “Look at thoseclouds gathering in thesouthwest.”

“Yes, you are right,Clare. We can’t stayhere too long. I havelearned my lesson,”Sabrina respondedruefully.

“Giles and Iwere soworried about you andAndrew thatday,”Clare

said hesitantly, withoutlookingatherfriend.“Ofcourse, we should haveknown you would findshelter. But I havewondered since thenwhether there wasanother reason to beworried?”

“Are you asking ifAndrew compromisedme,Clare?”

“Of course not.Andrew is a gentleman.

He would have offeredfor you had anythinghappened. No, it wasjust that he left sosuddenly,andyouhavenot seemed yourselfsincethen.”

“I wish he hadcompromised me,”Sabrina declaredfiercely.“Asitwas,Iwasthe one who practicallymade him an offer.

Which he honorablyrefused.”Sabrinaaddedwithironicstressonthewordhonorably.

Clare was silent fora minute, trying toabsorb what Sabrinahadtoldher. “Thenyoudo care for him. I havelongthoughtso.”

“I love him verymuch,” whisperedSabrina. “And much

gooditdoesme.”“And Andrew? Does

he return youraffection?”

“I believe so.Butheistoomuchagentlemanto want to ruin my lifebyproposingtome.”

“Whatever do youmean?”

“He is convincedthatayoungersonwhohas no chance at thetitle and no great

fortune is not an equalmatch for the daughterof an earl who has agenerous portion. It isthat damned sense ofhonor that men have.Pardon my language,Clare, but I don’t knowhowtheycanputhonorbefore everything, evenlove.”

“Does Giles knowaboutthis?”

“I am sure he has

guessed that somethinghas happened. I doubtthatAndrewwouldhavespoken to him directly.AndIhaven’t.”

“Perhaps I couldspeak to Andrew whenwe return to London,Sabrina,” said Clarethoughtfully. “We aregood friends now.MaybeIcouldbringhimto his senses. I thinkthetwoofyouwouldbe

veryhappytogether.”“As you and Giles

are,”Sabrinaasked,notvery innocently,wondering whetherClare would admit toany of the tensionSabrina could feelbetweenherbrotherandhiswife.

Claremerelynoddedand agreed. “Yes, asGiles and I are.” Thehorses were becoming

restless, and the cloudswere rolling closer.“Come, we had bettergo,” said Clare, “or wewill be caught thistime.”

They reachedWhitton in plenty oftime before the storm,butGileswasout front,pacing up and down infront of the house astheyrodein.

“Sabrina, I cannot

believe you would riskthe weather again,” hesaid, not bothering tocheckhisanger.

“Giles, this isnothing like last time,”his sister replied. “It ismerely a heavyrainstorm, with only alittle thunder. Andbesides,weoutrodeit.”

“Barely. And thistime, you put Clare atrisk.”

Perhaps it was theinjustice. Clare hadalways hated injustice.The ride had been heridea, not Sabrina’s,although, to be fair,Giles was not to knowthat.Butstill, toattackhis sister without anyexplanation was justunfair.

Perhaps it was theheat and the tension in

the atmosphere thatbuilds before such astorm. Perhaps it wasthe accumulatedtensionbetweenherandher husband. Claredidn’t know. But whenGiles casuallysummonedafootmantohelphissisterdismountand turned towardClare, grabbing thereins of her horse asthough she were

incapableofkeepingtherestless animal undercontrol, she felt a waveof angerwash over her.She was not a neck ornothing rider likeSabrina,itwastrue,butshe could handle arestivehorse.

AsGiles reachedupto lift her down, sherealized she wantednothing more than to

smack the protective,solicitous look off hisface, and wasimmediatelyhorrifiedbythe violence of herthoughts. She let himhelp her down, butturned to face him,saying in a shakingvoice: “The ride was myidea, Giles. And bothSabrinaandIaregrownwomen who can read

the weather very well.We turned around intime. It will be a goodten minutes before thestormreacheshere.Nordid we have to run thehorses to get backaheadof it. Iknow thatyouandSabrinahaveafree and easyrelationship, but thatdoes not warrantblaming her foreverything. Nor

assuming that I neverhave an idea of myown.”

Bravo, Clare,thought Sabrina,surprised and touchedby her friend’s defense.She watched Clare pullaway from Giles andwalk into the housewithoutlookingback.

Giles stood there,completelydumbfounded.Whenhe

regainedhiscomposure,he turned to his sisterand tendered her anapology. “I am sorry foraccusing you withoutreason,Brina.Ifyouwillexcuseme,Iwillgoandmake my apologies tomywife.”

****Clare was still

shaking when shereached her bedroom.She dismissed Martha

and sank into the chairby the window, lacingandunlacingherfingersas she tried to calmherself down.WhathadGilesdone,afterall,buttreatSabrinalikeawell-loved sister. The twohad always spokenfreely to one anotherand never shied awayfrom a quarrel. It wasjustthatClarewasveryconscious about

Sabrina’s vulnerabilityaroundtheaftermathofthe thunderstorm. AndGiles hadn’t been fair.He had assumed, asalways, that little ClareDysart couldn’t doanythingonherown.

The breeze that hadbeen blowing hadturned intoawind,andthe branches of theholly treeon thesideofthehousewerescraping

and rustling againstClare’s window. Theroom was becomingdarker as the cloudscovered the sun, andClare knew the raincouldnotbefarbehind.Her window was half-open, she realized, andshestoodtocloseit.Butthewoodhadswolleninthehumidity of the lastweeks, and althoughshe leaned all her

weight down against it,she could not get itshut.

“Here, Clare, let mehelp you,” said Gilesfrombehindher,andhereached around hershoulders to help herpushitdown.

She felt smotheredby him and pulledherself away, going tostand by the fireplace.Giles turned and gave

her an apologetic smile.“I am sorry if I startledyou.And I amsorry forjumping on Sabrina.But it was only naturalthat I thoughtyourrideher idea. And you didonlymake it back by avery few minutes,” headded, looking at thewindowpane where thefirst few drops werehitting. He moved overtoherandliftedherhair

back from her face. “Ilove the way your haircurls in this weather,”hewhispered.

He had touched hergently and withconsideration, as usual.That was the problem.Hewasalwayssocarefulwithher,asthoughshewereaporcelainwomanlike the shepherdess onthemantel.

“Don’t, Giles,” sheresponded.

“I am sorry, Clare,”he replied, immediatelyloweringhishand. “Youarestillupsetwithme?”

“Don’t be sorry,Giles. What have yougottobesorryabout?”

“Why, losing mytemper at the two ofyou.”

“No, Giles. You didnot lose your temper at

me. You never lose yourtemper at me. You arealways the perfect,gentle knight.” Clarewas as surprised asGiles by her reaction.She was furious withhim for being what foryears she had wantedhimtobe:herGalahad.Oh, but Galahad wouldhavebeensodifficult tolive with, she thought

suddenly.Giles blanched at

her tone. “I don’t knowwhat you mean, Clare.Of course I am rarelyangry at you. I amhardly perfect, but Ithink all I need toconfess to this time iswanting to keep yousafe. After all, I loveyou.”

“Do you, Giles? Do

you love me or do youlove some memory thatyou hold from yourchildhood.”

Giles was stung.“Howcanyoudoubtmylove, Clare? I havealways loved you. Iasked you tomarrymeas soon as it waspossible. And surely, ifnothing else, mybehavior in our bedshouldconvinceyou.”

“Sometimes I thinkyou only see ClareDysart,Giles.TheClareDysart you knewbeforeshe fell in love withJustin Rainsborough.Not the Clare Dysartwhojiltedyou.”

“We were neverformally engaged,”Gilesinterjected.

“Not LadyRainsborough, Giles,”Clare continued as

though he had notspoken. “LadyRainsborough gave herhusbandallofherselfinthemarriagebed,Giles.She gave him all thatshecannotseemtogiveyou. And when he beather...”

“Don’t talk tome ofthis,Clare. Idon’twantto hear it. And there isno need for you totortureyourselfagain.”

“And even when hebeatherandkickedherand killed their baby,she returned to hisbed,” Clare continuedinexorably. “You cannottell me, Giles, that younever wondered at thatevenalittle?ForsurelyIhave,”sheaddedwithabitterlaughthatbecameasob.

Giles looked over at

the window, as thoughby focusing on thestorm outside he couldescape the insidetempest that wasdrawing him in. Heturned back and saidcarefully:“Iconfessthatthere were times,particularly during theinquest when Iwondered that, Clare.ButIunderstand,trulyIdo.” He reached out to

assure her, putting hishandprotectivelyonhershoulder.

She shook him off.“Doyou,Giles?Doyou?I am glad one of usdoes, for I mostcertainlydonot.Doyounotwonder in bed, as Ido,whyawomancouldgive herself completelyto themanwho treatedher so horribly andcannot to themanwho

haslovedhermorethanhalfhislife?”

Tears were runningdown Clare’s cheeksalmost as fast as therain running down thewindowpane. “Doesn’t itever make you angry,that Clare Dysart wassuch a foolish youngwoman. She could havebeen happy with you,Giles, and instead she

chose a brute. Acharmingbrute,Iadmit.And a handsome one.Butacruelman,allthesame.”

“I ... if I felt anyanger, Clare ... I don’tknow,Ilovedyou.Iloveyou now. I tried tounderstand. He wasdeceptively charming.No one could haveguessed what he wouldbelike,letaloneyou.”

“But didn’t younevertheless get angry,Giles?” Clare would notlethimoff.

“I suppose so,” headmittedreluctantly.

“And do you now?Doesn’t it infuriate youwhen I am unable torespond to you past acertain point? When Ikeepmyselffromyou?”

“But I know youcan’thelpit,Clare.Ifwe

arepatient...”“Youaretoodamned

patient, Giles. That istheproblem.”

“Would you rather Iraped you?" Gilesresponded, finallymoved to anger. “Wouldyou prefer I slap you?Black your eye? Is thatwhat arouses you,Clare?”

“No, Giles,” sheanswered, her voice

steady, but her tearsstill flowing. “Justin’scruelty was never whataroused me. It was histenderness. I want somuchtorespondfullytoyou, to give you whatyou deserve for yourfaithfulness.”

“I don’t want yourgratitude,Clare.”

“I know.And I don’twant your everlastingunderstanding, Giles. I

don’t want cruelty, butyou have every reasonintheworldtobeangry,to be disappointed inthis marriage, and yetyou have neverexpressedanyofthat.”

“I have not wantedto hurt you, Clare. Youhavebeenhurtenough.We have a lifetimetogether to work thisout.”

“Lifeisnevercertain,

Giles. Perhaps we haveyears. Perhaps not. Butwe will never work outour difficulties if youcannot seeme as I am,not as I was. I am agrown woman now,Giles. Once I married amanwho lovedme in avery destructive way.Who stopped loving meand only sought todestroy me. I felthelplesswithhim,Giles.

I had no one to protectme, no one to turn tothen. I did the best Icould to keep myselffrom being hurt. Andwhen that wasn’tenough,Ikilledhim.”

“No,Clare.”“Yes, Giles. Even

though you heard it atthe inquest, you don’twant to believe it, doyou? Sabrina sawJustin.Askher.”

“I know you killedRainsborough, Clare,but you didn’t reallyknow what you weredoing. And it was self-defense.”

“I know all that,Giles. Who better.Nevertheless,Ikilledmyhusband. They foundme with my dresssoaked with his blood.”The tears had stopped,and Clare’s voice was

calm.“Atfirst,Icouldn’tremember it. Then,when I did, I torturedmyself as much asJustinevertorturedme.DidIneedtodoit?Howcould I have done it?But do you knowsomething,Giles?Ihaveremembered it all, andonemoment stands outfor me. Just as Ithought I was dying,just as my whole body

was giving in to him,saying ‘yes, yes, this isit, the ending I shouldhave foreseen,’something in me, somepart of me, very deep,that I hadn’t evenknown existed,screamed ‘no,’ and that‘no’ saved my life. Andyours. The woman whosaid ‘no’ is who I am,Giles. Not the timid

Clare Dysart, who letLucy Kirkman dumpthose worms on heryears ago. Nor theinnocent Clare who fellin lovewithamadman.For that is what Justinwas, I think. Oh, I amstill quiet and rathershy, Giles. But for thefirst time in my life, Iknow myself and likemyself despite all mymistakes.Anduntilyou

hear that woman, untilyou see her, Giles, ourmarriage will neverbecome what we bothwishittobe.”

****Giles stood there in

silenceastheroomhadbecome darker and thebranches and rain beatagainst Clare’s window.He could hardly believeit was Clare who hadspoken to him so. But

there she stood, thesame small woman hehad known for so long.Or thought he hadknown.

“I don’t know whatto say, Clare. It seemsyou want some sort ofangryresponsefrommethat I can’t give you.Perhaps I have beenguilty of loving amemory rather than areal woman. I apologize

for that.” He hesitated.“I think, for a while atleast, it is best if I donotshareyourbed.Itisobviously becoming aburden for both of us.And if things need tochange, the change willnotcomefromthere,”headded.

“I agree with you,Giles,” said Clarewearily.

“All Icanpromise is

tothinkaboutwhatyouhavesaid.ToseeifIcancometounderstandit.”

“That is all anyonecan ask,” said Clarewithasadsmile.

“I will see you atsupper,then?”

“Yes,Giles.”After he left, Clare

satbythewindowagainwatchingthestormplayitself out. It was overwithin an hour and

when the clouds hadbroken, the lateafternoon sunlightrevealedthewholeworldas clean and sparkling.The leaves of the hollytree,whichhad seemedto fade in the heat andhumidityhadlifted,andClarefeltafaintstirringof hope. Perhaps heroutburstwould serve todisperse the tensionbetween her husband

and herself and allowthem the same sort ofnewbeginning.

****Over the next few

weeks, however, therelationship betweenhusband and wiferemained static. Gileswas as kind andconsiderateasever,butnow the reservewas onhis side asmuch as onClare’s. He never

touched her unless itwould have lookedstrange not to: dancingat a local assembly orhandingheroverastileon one of their rambleswith Sabrina. He wouldgiveherapolitekissonthecheekatthedoorinthe evening when theyretiredatthesametime,but the door betweentheir rooms remainedclosed.

It took all his self-control to restrainhimself.Whentheyweredancing, the smell ofherperfumewould onlyremind him of theirphysicalintimacy.Manynights after his coolgood-night kiss, hewould lie awakeremembering how it feltto lose himself in herbody. Aroused andfrustrated, hewondered

if his wife was wantinghim, if any of thepassion between themhadbeenreal.

****Clare did miss his

kisses and waking upcurled against him inthe morning. Shemissed the way he hadgently but effectivelyarousedherandreadiedher forhis love-making.She didn’t miss,

however, those awfulmoments after hisrelease when he wouldattempt to bring her tohers. And surely, itwould not have donetheirmarriageanygoodfor them to have goneonpretending?

They had talkedabout the possibility ofattending the LittleSeasoninthebeginningofthesummer,buthad

come to no cleardecision. Clare wasrelieved onemorning atbreakfast, when Gilesraised the possibilityagain.

“I think it is time tothinkaboutreturningtoLondon,Clare.Sabrina?I hope you are both inagreementwithme?”

Sabrina was of twominds. She wasn’t sureshe could stand seeing

AndrewMoresocially. Itwould be painful tomaintain her friendlyfacade now that thetruthbetweenthemhadbeen spoken. Althoughsurely duringMichaelmas Term, hewould have a busyschedule?Yetaspainfulas itmightbe to returntoLondon,atleasttherewould be a variety ofactivitiestodistracther.

And Giles and Clare.The careful politenessbetween themwashardto watch, and she waswell aware thatsomething hadhappened that waskeeping Giles from hiswife’s bed. All in all,London seemed thebetterchoice.

“I have enjoyed thesummer, Giles,” she

replied.Well,shehad,upuntil Andrew’s visit.“But I think some timein the city would begoodforallofus.”

Clare smiled andnodded her agreement.Surelyachangeofscenecould not hurt theirmarriage. Might evenhelp it. And she wouldhave a chance to speakwithAndrewinLondon.If she couldn’t bring

Giles happiness, thenperhaps she could helpAndrew and Sabrinafindit.

ChapterTwenty-seven

The first few days

Andrew was back inLondon, his roomsseemed very crampedand dingy after thespacious elegance ofWhitton, and for thefirst time in his life, hewished he were hisbrother. Well, notprecisely, he thought

humorously. He wouldnever want to be aspriggish, responsible,andboringasJonathan.But had he been borntheelder,hewouldhaveasked Sabrina tomarryhimyearsago.

He would just haveto put her out of hismind. Banish thememory ofhowsofthercheek felt,howwell shefitagainsthimwhenhe

pulledherclose.Hehadnoreason to

be in court for thenextfew weeks, but on hisfirstdayback,insteadofgoing straight to hisoffice,hehaddecidedtodistract himself at theOld Bailey for a fewhours. Although thepractice was by nomeansuniversal, itwasbecomingmorecommon

for victims andcriminals alike to berepresented by counsel,and Andrew enjoyedwatching otherbarristers puttingwitnesses through theirpaces.

After watching twoyoungmensentencedtothe hulks for burglary,one older womantransported for stealingfrom her mistress,

Andrew felt better. Notthat he enjoyed feedingoffhumanmiseryasdidsome court spectators.He felt sympathy forthose victimized bypoverty who then, inturn, victimized others.Oh, he prosecutedthem, but he alsosympathized. And thismorning he hadcertainly needed to feelsorry for someoneother

thanhimself.He spied Thomas

Ruthven, one of thebetter-known BowStreet Runners andafter the morningsession,soughthimout.He enjoyed socializingwith Runners as muchor perhaps more thanwith his social equals.Most of themweremenof great naturalintelligence, albeit

uneducated, and mostimportant of all, werenot hypocrites as wereso many of his ownclass. They knewfirsthand what wasimportant: life anddeath, notwhowas thelatest cuckold. After anenjoyable dinner withRuthven at the GarrickHead over which hecaught up on the latestcriminal gossip,Andrew

strolled to his office,mellowedbythealeandgood company, anddistracted at least fromhisthoughtsofSabrina.Allamanreallyneeded,he decided, the aleworking on him, waswork,meaningfulwork.

Whenheenteredhischambers, his clerkgreeted him and thenmotioned to a youngman sitting in the

corner.“He’s been waiting

three hours to see you,Mr.More.”

Andrew glancedover. His visitor and heassumed, prospectiveclient, was a youngman, not older thantwenty-four, Andrewwouldhaveguessed.Hewasdressedrespectablyand lookedconsiderablydifferent from many of

Andrew’s usual clients.Hehadlank,dirty-blondhair,which fell over hisforehead, and a sallowcomplexion.

“You would like toseeme,Mr....?”

The young man’sface brightened. “Yes,sir. Oh, I am JohnGrantham.”

“Come in to myoffice,Mr.Grantham.”

The young man

unfolded himself andstood up. He was atleast two inches tallerthan Andrew, and verythin. Not a particularlyhealthy-lookingspecimen, thoughtAndrew, as he led himinto the office andmotioned him to sitdown.

“Now,what is ityouwanted to see meabout?”

The young mancleared his throat andshifted nervously in hischair.Hedidn’tlooklikea criminal, thoughtAndrew,but then,quiteoften appearances weredeceiving.

“I wish you to helpme prosecute someone.Er,actually,fourmen.”

Robbery, thoughtAndrew. “Do you knowthe identity of these

men,Mr.Grantham?Orwill I have to call in aRunner?”

The young mansmiled bleakly. “Oh, Iknow them very well,Mr. More. They areRichard Bennett,FrederickOldfield,JohnPhillips, and ThomasCarolus. They are theproprietors of a gaminghell at 75 St. JamesStreet.”

“You wish toprosecute theproprietors of a gaminghouse?” Andrew wasflabbergasted. No oneever brought chargesagainstsuchmen.

“Yes,” saidGrantham, his fidgetinghands still now that hehadspoken.“Yes,Ido.Iam, or I was,” he saidbitterly, “a student at

Inner Temple. I havelearned something ofthe law. It says that‘Anypersonwhoshallatany one sitting lose thesum of ten pounds ormoreandpays,he isatliberty for threemonthstorecoverit.’”

Andrew lifted hiseyebrows. “You arecorrect, Mr. Grantham.The law does say that.But I know of hardly

anyprecedents.”“Oh, I know,” said

Grantham bitterly. “Agentleman pays hisgaming debts. Agentleman does notcomplain and certainlydoes not attempt to gethis money back. Agentleman values hishonor above all things.Well, I am not agentleman, Mr. More.WhichiswhyIamhere.

Your solicitor told meyou take on clientswhose cases interestyou. He toldme to talkto you directly in thehope that mine alsowould.”

“Tell me your story,Mr. Grantham,” saidAndrew,leaningbackinhischair.

“IwasborninIndia.My father is a minorofficial with the East

India Company. Hisdream and also mymother’s was that Iwould come back toEngland and becomesomething a little moresuccessful than myfather. My parentsscraped and saved foryears, and when theyfinally had enough formy journey and fees,they sent me off withtheir lifesavings in my

pockets.”“Andyousettledinto

the life of a lawstudent?”

“Yes. But I didn’tmakemanyfriends,Mr.More.Mostofmy fellowstudents are theyounger sons of thenobility and had nointerest in someone likeme, whose family hasbeen in trade. It hasbeenalonelyyear,butI

discoveredacoffeehouseintheWestEnd,whereIspenthoursreadingthenewspaperorstudying.”

Andrew knew therest of the story. Anobvious “JohnnyNewcome,” JohnGrantham was thenatural prey for ablackleg, one of thoseruined gamesters whohaunted the West Endacting as “recruiting

officers.” But he letGranthamcontinue.

“Imetanolderman.AmancalledThomas. Ifound out later he iscalled ‘Coaxing Tom,’ ”addedGranthamwithahollow laugh. “It is agood name for him. Hewas kind and coaxing.He told me I was tooserious and too sallow.That I needed a littleexcitement to liven up

my life, and he knewjust the place. I wouldmake friends there,” hesaid.“AndsoIwent.”

“Andplayed?”“Oh,Ionlylaiddown

a little the first fewtimes. But I won backeverythingandmore.”

“Yes,theymakesureof that in thesehouses.Everyone wins morethan he loses the firstfewtimes.”

“Then I started tolose.Butnot toomuch.Not enough todiscourage me. And Iwas welcome. Oh, I’vetoldmyselfIwashavinga hard time. I washomesick, had nofriends.”

“But that is thetruth,” said Andrewsympathetically.

“The truth is, I wasnaive and stupid. The

truth is I letthem fleeceme out of my parents’hard-earnedmoney.Thetruth is I have nothingandhavehadtoquitmystudies. And the truthis, I don’t give a damnabouthonorandwhatisdoneandwhatisn’tdone.I wantmymoney back.The law is on my side,andIhavecometo lovethelaw,althoughatthe

end,Iwasgivingitlittleenoughofmytime.”

Andrew sat quietlythroughhisoutburst.Atfirst, he hadn’t beendrawn to this youngman, partly because ofhis unappealingexterior, he wasashamed to say. And,also, he had to admit,because of his class.Sometimes he had aneasier time with the

poorestofthepoor,andwhether he liked it ornot, he mixed with hisown class confidently.He understood themiddle class least. Noonethatheknewwouldever dream of trying toget their money back.HeknewmenatOxfordwhose fathers had lostwhole estates; onewhose brother hadcommitted suicide over

unpaid debts. But thecodeofhonordemandedthatagentlemanalwayspaidwhatheowed,evenif it meantimpoverishing hisfamily.

So at first he hadonly thought the youngman a “whiner,”unwilling to takeresponsibility for hisactions. Then, as helistened, he began to

admire him. Here hewas, willing to admithe’s been gulled,“fleabotomised,” as theblacklegs called it, butnot willing to go alongwithasocietalcodethatwould have meantdestroying thebeliefhisparents had in him. Ifhe carried throughwiththis, Grantham wouldbe even more of anoutcast thanhealready

was. But he obviouslydidn’t care. Theprinciple of what wasright and lawfulmotivatedhim.

Andwhy should oldLord Marchmain havegiven up his estate. Orthe young ViscountBlakeney shot himself?Andrew’s thoughtssurprised him, and hehad a fleeting vision ofhow nice it would have

been to come home toSabrina and discussthese issues. Hedismissed it as quicklyas it appeared andleaned forward on hiselbows.

“You realize thatthesemenarenotgoingto appreciate yourdevotion to the law,Mr.Grantham.”

Granthamswallowedhard.“Ido.”

“They are criminals,although they appearvery welcoming andgenteel.”

“I am not afraid,”said Grantham stoutly,and then he laughed.“No, I am very afraid,”he admitted. “But Imust do what I believeisright.”

“As long as youunderstandthepossibleconsequences, I will

take you on as a clientand direct my solicitortoprepareyourcase.”

“Thank you, Mr.More, thank you,”Grantham answeredwithgreatrelief.

“The case cannot bebrought untilMichaelmasTerm. Iwillhave Mr. Lawrencecontact you to preparethebrief.”

Grantham got up to

leave. "Mr. Grantham,

there is something youhave forgotten,” saidAndrew. “The smallmatter of my fee,” headdeddryly.

Grantham blushed.“Of course. I have asmall amount of moneysetaside.”

“Which, no doubt,youneedforlodgingandfood?”

Grantham noddedsheepishly.

“Well, I will wait,and you can pay mewhenwewin.”

“You think we canwin,then?”

“Iknowwewill.”“Thank you for

taking thiscaseon,Mr.More,” said Granthamfervently.

“You are more thanwelcome, Mr.

Grantham,” saidAndrew,walking him tothedoor.“Itwilllivenupmy fall termconsiderably, I amsure.” And keep mymind off Lady SabrinaWhitton, he added tohimself.

****TheWhittonsarrived

in London in mid-September and spenttheir first few days

gettingsettledin.Bytheend of their first week,however,theystartedtoaccept selectedinvitations. Each timeSabrina walked into adrawing room or aballroom, she foundherself trembling like ayoung girl about toencounter the object ofher first calf-love. ButAndrewMorewasnotatLady Edward’s soiree

nor the Thorndike ball,which left Sabrina bothrelieved anddisappointed.

Giles was also onthe lookout for Andrew,and when he didn’tappeareithereveningorcall on the Whittons,Giles decided it wastime to call on hisfriend. He excusedhimself from the dailyride one morning,

announcing overbreakfast that he hadsome errands to do.After Sabrina andClareleft, he took a hansomcabtoTempleBar.

Andrew’s clerkgreeted him andannounced that Mr.More was with a client,“If you can wait, mylord.”

“Ofcourse.Mr.Morehad no idea I was

coming.”After ten minutes,

Andrew’s door openedand a tall, thin youngman emerged. Gileslookedathimcuriously.He was better dressedthan Andrew’s usualclass of clients, andGiles wondered justwhat he had beenaccusedof.

Assoonastheclerkannouncedhim,Andrew

wasatthedoor,abroadsmileonhisface.

“Giles! What adelightful surprise! Ididn’t know whetheryou were still in thecountry or had decidedtodotheLittleSeason.”

“It was a quick andunanimous decision,Andrew.Weonlyarrivedat the beginning of thisweek.Wewerehopingtosee you at the

Thorndike’s, but whenwe didn’t, I decided tohuntyoudownmyself.”

“I have been quitebusy, Giles,” saidAndrew,sittingontopofhis desk andmotioningGiles toa chair in frontof him. “MichaelmasTermstartssoon.And Ialwaysdotheminimumsocializing anyway, youknow.”

Giles smiled. “Yes, I

knowyouwell.Wasthata new client, Andrew?He looked well-heeledcompared toyourusualclientele. What is heaccusedof?”

Andrewgrinned.“Heis accused of nothing,Giles. I am acting asprosecutorinthiscase.”

Giles lifted hiseyebrowsquestioningly.

“That young man,Mr. John Grantham, is

bringing suit againstMessrs. Bennett,Oldfield, Carolus, andPhillips.”

“Embezzlement?”“Ofakind,Isuppose

you could say,” Andrewreplied. “The gentlemenin question run agaming hell at 75 St.JamesStreet.”

“You are bammingme,Andrew.Thatyoungmanistryingtousethe

law to renege on agamingdebt?”

“Oh, no, Giles. Heowesthemnothing.He’spaid all of his parents’hard-earned money,which they saved toplacehimatthebar.Heis trying to get it back.And he is quite withinthelaw,Imightadd.”

“Truly?”“Absolutely. From

the time of our good

Queen Anne, anyonecouldsuetorecoverhislosses.”

“But, Andrew, noone ever would, wouldhe?Itis...”

“Notdone,Giles?Notthe honorable thing todo, eh, what? You areright. But it is absurd,don’tyouthink?Doyouremember JeremyWaites?”

Giles frowned. “Hewas ahead of us atOxford. Wasn’t he theonewhosebrotherkilledhimself?”

“Yes. Over agambling debt. Andthink of Franklin. Hewas forced to marry acit’s daughter ten yearsolderthanhe,justtogethimself out of the RiverTick. And she lookedevery day of those ten

years,Imightadd.”“Whatever will

people think of this,Andrew? Your brotherwillnotbepleased.”

“Oh, hang mybrother. He has neverbeen pleased with me,whatever I’ve done. Heshould be happy I amgoing after criminalsinstead of defendingthem.”

“And what of

Messrs. Oldfield et al.?To say they will not bepleased is surely anunderstatement,wouldn’t you say? Isthere any danger intakingonthiscase?”

“They have alreadyoffered the boy threetimeshislossestomakehimdropthecase.”

“And he didn’t takeit!”

“Young Mr.

Grantham is a middle-class idealist, Giles.Grew up in India.Father a hardworkingman dedicated to dutyand the company. Hebelieves in the law.Believes that thismighthelp other young menwho get caught up inthe toils of theblacklegs. No, he didn’taccept the bribe, for heis doing this as much

for the principle as forthemoney.”

“Andyou,Andrew?”“Oh,theyofferedme

a tidy sum too, Giles.Sentovertheirsolicitor,who very tactfullysuggested that thiswhole thing could goaway for five hundredpounds.”

“NowIknowyouarebammingme!”

Andrew shook his

head. “Do you knowhow much these mencan pull in a year,Giles?”

“Forty, fiftythousandguineas?”

“Five hundredthousand.”

“No!”“Yes.Theydon’twant

anyonejeopardizingthatkind of profit, I can tellyou.” Andrew hesitated.

“AfterIturneddownthemoney, their solicitorhinted that the youngMr. Grantham mightwant to return to India,‘for health reasons.’ Isent him away with anearful,Icantellyou.I’vehadMr.Granthammoveout of his rooms into asmallinn.He’llbesafe.”

“And what aboutyou, Andrew,” askedGileswithconcern.

“Don’t worry, Giles.They wouldn’t daretouchabarrister.Ortheyounger son of an earl,for that matter,” headdedwithagrin.

“Itisnothingtojokeabout,Andrew.”

“The only danger Iam in, Giles, is social.After all, I am about tothreaten everything agentleman holds dear:the right to put his

family fortune andestate at risk. I see afrown on your face,Giles. Do youdisapprove?”

“What? No, I don’tthinkso.Imustconfess,I have never heardanyone question myassumptions about thisbefore. I deploregambling, I havesincerely pitied and insomecasestriedtohelp

those caught up in it,but I never would havethought of challenginganything legally. ButnowthatIthinkof it, itseems foolish not to.”Gilesshookhisheadasthoughtoclearit.“ButIdoworryaboutyou,myfriend.”

“Nonsense. Nothingwillhappentome.Iwillwin this case. JohnGrantham will go back

andfinishhisstudiesatInner Temple, where hewill, no doubt, becomeeven more of a socialoutcast. And gentlemenwill go on ruiningthemselves andmarrying Friday-facedcit’s daughters to bringthemselvesabout.”

Giles laughed. “Isuppose you are right.Now,whenarewegoingtoseeyou?”

“Oh,Ihaveaccepteda few invitations overthe next few weeks,”Andrew repliedevasively.

“Will you be at theStraitens’?”

Andrew examinedhis fingernails. “TheStraitens’?Yes,IthinkIdid accept theirinvitation.”

“Good, then we willsee you there.” Giles

hesitated. “Sabrina willbe pleased, I am sure,”headded.

Andrewcontinuedtolook at his hand, as iftherewerenothingmoreinteresting in the worldthan the state of hiscuticles, and saidnothing.

“Will youbepleasedto see her, Andrew?Perhapsthatisthemore

importantquestion.”Andrewlookedupat

Gilesandsaidevenly:“Iam always pleased tosee both of you. Youknowthat,Giles.”

“Allright.Iwon’tpryany further. You leftWhitton very quickly,however. And Sabrinahas beenmoping aboutever since. I thought,but perhaps I waswrong, that something

had happened betweenyou? The afternoon ofthestorm?”

Andrew’s eyesflashed.“DoyouthinkIwould compromise yoursister and then flee,Giles!”

“Of course not, youfool. You know that astwins,SabrinaandIarecloser than mostbrothers and sisters. Ihavealwaysfeltthatshe

might have a specialfeelingforyou,Andrew.”

“Andwhatifshedid,Giles?Whatcouldcomeof it? Your sister is thedaughterofanearl,witha substantial portionand...”

“And you,” Gilesinterrupted,“arethesonof...”

“Youngest son,Giles.”

“With more brains

and wit than yourbrother has in twofingers. Why shouldn’tshe be interested inyou?”

“Lady Sabrina will,nodoubt,meetsomeonemore appropriate, withequal charm and moreimportantly, of equalrank,” Andrew saidfinally.

“Oh,God,yousoundjust like your brother!

Well, ifyouaregoingtoturnformalonme,Iwillleave. But I promiseyou, this isnot the lastconversation we willhaveonthistopic.”

****As was typical of

them, while Giles wasworryingaboutthestateof his sister’s heart,Sabrina was veryconcerned about thestateofhismarriage.By

now, everyone in thehousehold was awarethat the viscount andhis wife were no longersharing a bedroom or abed. Sabrina watchedGiles very carefully. Hewaseverythingthatwaskind and polite withClare,andshewithhim,but instead of takingany opportunity totouch her, he waskeeping himself at a

distance. It was mostlikely not noticeable toanyone who did notknow him well, butSabrinawas very awareof every missedopportunity.

Shehad intended totalktoherbrotherwhenthe opportunitypresenteditself,butoneafternoon, when Gileswas at his club, shewalkedinonClare,who

washuddledonthesofain the library. It wasobvious from thecrumpled handkerchiefin her hand and herreddened eyes, that shehadbeencrying.

Sabrina sat downnext to her and said,“What is it, my dear?Can I help you in anyway?”

Clare turned andgaveherawaterysmile.

“I thought I was safehere.”

“I’llleaveifyouwantto be alone.” Sabrinahalf rose, and Claregrasped her hand andpulledherdown.

“No, no, I didn’tmean that, Sabrina. IonlymeantIdidn’twanttobotheranyone.”

“IsitGiles?”Clare nodded. “Yes.

No. I don’t know,

Sabrina. I feel I hardlyknowmyselfthesedays,muchlessanyoneelse.”

“This summer itseemed as thoughthings were going wellbetweenthetwoofyou.”

“I suppose theywere.Weweresharingabed, if that iswhat youmean.”

Sabrina wassurprisedto findherselfblushing. For all her

independence of spirit,and the few years shehadonClare,herfriendhad more experience inthis area of life. Shestammered an apologyforintruding.

Clare smiled. “Don’tworry, Sabrina. Afterhaving to reveal everyintimate detail of myfirst marriage before aroom full of strangers, Ihave little

embarrassment left. Ineed someone’s helpandadvice.”

“WhateverIcando.”“I don’t know if

anyone can doanything,” sighedClare.“There is more tomarriagethansharingabed, Sabrina. Thephysical side is lesscomplicated for a manthan a woman. Gilesand I reached a certain

level of intimacy, but Ifound myself unable togive him more. It isdistressingtobothofusthatmy capability for afull, passionateresponse seems to havedied with Justin.Although,” Clare addedina lowvoice, “perhapsitisjustpunishment.”

Sabrinahadnothingto say. She was noinnocentandknewwhat

happened between aman and awoman, butthe subtleties ofmaritalintimacywereamysterytoher.

“Some of this tangleisduetomyfear,”Clarecontinued.“Iwasabletorespond to Justin andlookwhathappened.Assoon as I feel anythinglike those feelings withGiles, something in meshutsdown.”

“ButGilesisnothinglike Justin, Clare. Hewouldneverhurtyou.”

“Of course I knowthat, Sabrina,” Clarereplied almostimpatiently. “But Ihavechanged, and he can’tseemtoseethat.Idon’tthinkhewantstoseeit.He married little ClareDysart, not Lady ClareRainsborough, thenotorious widow and

murderess.”“You are not a

murderess,Clare.”“I know it was in

self-defense, Sabrina.Butallthesame,Ikilledaman.Yousawhim.”

Sabrinashuddered.“I wish Giles had

seen him. I think asmuchasGileswants toprotectme, heneeds toprotect himself. He will

notbeangrywithme.”“But why ever

shouldhebe?”“Because I walked

away from anunderstanding of manyyears. I walked awayfrom his love andprotection right into thearms of a charmingvillain. He still can’tunderstand what it isliketolivewithsomeonelike Justin. To live all

the time utterlyconfused and helplesstochangethings.Totellyou the truth, Sabrina,sometimesIwonderifatsome level, Giles isrepulsedbyme.Andtheonly way he can dealwith this is to love theoldClare. But I amnotthatchildanylonger.”

Sabrina looked atClare as though seeingher friend for the first

time.Becauseshewasawomanandbecauseshehad been there themorning after, she hadalways had a betterunderstanding thanGiles of who Clare hadbecome. But she, too,hadbeenhappy tosplitClare into two people:the Clare she hadknownforyearsandtheaberrantClarewhoonlyexisted because of her

terrible marriage. LikeGiles,shehadseenhimmarriedtotheoldClare,who somehowmiraculously emergedunchanged from herordeal.

She put her handtentatively onClare’s. “Ithink you are right. Iknow you are,” shecontinued. “It is verydifficult to comprehend

what these last fewyearshavebeen like foryou.Idon’tliketothinkabout what I saw thatnight. I don’t like tothink about what youlooked like. I havewanteditalltogoaway,sothatwecanreturntowhatshouldhavebeen.”

“Perhaps mymarrying Justin waswhat shouldhavebeen,

Sabrina,” said Clare,covering her friend’shand with her own.“HadImarriedGilestwoyears ago, Iwouldhavebeen marrying my‘Galahad,’myillusionofhim.Iknownowthatnoone is perfect, least ofallme.Ineededtolearnhow to protect myself.Youhavealwaysknownhow,Sabrina.Youwould

have thrown thoseworms right back atLucy Kirkman,” saidClarewith a soft laugh.“Orpushedher intothestream!”

Sabrinasmiled.“Well, I have been

through what feels likethefiresofhellandhavecomeoutstrongerforit.Iwishprotectingmyselfhad not meant killingJustin, but I can’t be

the old Clare for Giles,even if it would makehim more comfortable.And ifhecan’tevenseethenewClare,howcanhe love her?” Clarehesitated and thenspokeagain.“Iwillhavetogetpastmyfearsandrisk myself again. Iknowthat,Sabrina.ButI am sure that nothingwill be resolved in ourbed until Giles stops

lovinganillusion.”****

Clare’s observationson the state of hermarriage had surprisedSabrina. She thoughtshe knew her brothervery well, but she wasbeginningtorealizethattheir very closenessmade it difficult for herto see him whole. Insome ways, Clare hadtheclearerpicture.

Over the next fewdays, Sabrina observedGiles closely, trying tosee himwith the eye ofan outside observerrather than a twinsister. He was a verygood man, GilesWhitton, one who wasquick to notice thingsthatothersoftheirclassmight have overlooked:a parlor maid with redeyes who had been

bothered by one of thefootmen, the cook’sextraeffortsinplanninga favorite dish for him,the young lady withspots holding up thewall at a rout. And soobviously trying to beunderstanding with hiswife.

He was much nicerthan she was, Sabrinadecided. She understood

Andrew’s feelings, butshe was not about towait around foreverwhen they both caredfor one another. Shehad always been lesspatient than herbrother. And as shewatched his chivalrousbehavior with his wife,as she saw him act asthough all were wellbetween them, givingher a gentle kiss good

night before they wentoff to separate beds,that while the value ofsuch goodness was notto be underestimated,her brother might verywell be destroying hismarriage slowly,patiently, andunderstandingly.

ChapterTwenty-eight

The truth was that

Giles was, at last,beginningtounderstandthis. At first he haddismissed Clare’soutburst.Afterall,whathe felt for her was agenuine and lastinglove.Onewhichhadnotaltered when italteration found. How

wasitafaulttoholdtheyounger Clare in hismind,torespondtothatinnocence andvulnerability?

But he was nothingif not honest withhimself. He did not liketothinktoomuchofhermarriage toRainsborough. Towonderwhyshehadnotsought help. Her

family’s help. His help.And once the trial wasover, he had wanted toputherhusband’sdeathcompletelybehindthem.That was the way hethought about it: herhusband’s death,something that hadoccurred, but did nothave a thing to dowithClare.Forhowcouldhepossibly admit tohimself that his Clare,

that lovely child andwoman that he hadlovedforyearshadbeenfound beaten, bruised,soaked in blood,standing over thehusband she had shotwithhisownpistols?

He could feelSabrina’s concern, butforoncedidnotwanttotalk to his sister.Somehow their verycloseness stood in the

way. And she was awoman,afterall,withawoman’s view of thematter. He neededsomeone to help himunderstand himself andhisownconfusion.

Therefore, on one ofthe few occasionsAndrew appeared insociety, Giles tried tocatch a few minuteswith him alone, whichproved impossible. Lord

Averywasout tocornerhis brother that night,and he was successfulin taking up most ofAndrew’stime.

Giles finally caughtup with him as he wasleaving.

“I see your brotherhas heard about yournew client, Andrew,” heteased.

Andrew groaned.“Wantsme to drop him

immediately, of course.Unheard ofungentlemanly behavioron Grantham’s part.Why would I want toattemptsocialsuicide.Itis bad enough that Idefendedamurderess.Iam sorry, Giles. Thatjustslippedout.”

“That is all right. Infact, I need to talk toyou about that very

subject,Andrew.”“I beg your pardon,

Giles. You mean aboutClare? I was onlyrepeating my brother’sridiculousness. Surelyyoudon’t think I regardClarethatway?”

“No, no, I took nooffense. Look, I cannotexplainmyselfnow.Willyou be in yourchambers tomorrow inthe early evening? I

thought Imightstopbyon my way to theCarstairs. Or we couldgotogether?”

“I am not showingmy faceagainuntil thistrial is over,” declaredAndrew with a laugh.“But I will be there tillsevenish,Iimagine.”

“Allright then,”saidGiles.“Iwillbethere.”

****The next day Giles

excused himself frombeing Clare andSabrina’s escort to anearly musicale, andpromised to meet themattheCarstairs’rout. Ithad been a clear day,and he dressed for thesamesortofevening.Bythe time he reachedAndrew’s chambers,however, a light showerhadstarted,andhewashappy to be admitted

quickly by Andrew’sclerk.

“Mr. More is justfinishing up, my lord.He told me he wasexpectingyouandaskedme to offer yousomethingtodrink.”

“Iwouldloveaglassof sherry,” saidGilesashe brushed off hiseveningjacket.

When Andrewopened his door a few

minutes later, hedismissed his clerk andusheredGilesin.

“I see it has startedraining, Giles,” heobserved as he peeredouthiswindow.

“Yes, damn it, and Ifeel a proper fool. I amto meet Clare andSabrinalater,andifthiskeeps up, I’ll be morethanabitbedraggled.”

“Don’t worry, I can

lendyouagreatcoatifitturnsintoadownpour.”

Andrew’s clerk hadplaced the decanter ofsherry and anotherglassonAndrew’sdesk.“Moresherry,Giles?”

“Thankyou.”“Now,what is ityou

wished to speak to meabout?”

Giles hesitated. Nowthathewashere,itwashard to begin. How

could he reveal theintimate secrets of hismarriage, even to hisclosefriend?

“Fromwhatyousaidlast night, this is aboutClare, Giles?” promptedAndrew.

“Yes. Or perhaps itis as much or moreaboutme,Andrew.”

Andrew leaned backin his chair andstretched his feet out

under his desk. “I haveallthetimeintheworld,Giles,butyou,Ibelieve,are due at LadyCarstairs’s rout in anhourorso,”hesaidwithasmile.

“You never likedClare very much, didyou,Andrew.”

“As I’ve told youbefore, when I firstmether, all those years ago... no. I worried that

there was not enough,what shall I say, firebetween you? Thepattern of yourrelationship was set soearly: she needed to betaken care of; you tookcare of her. But thecontrast betweenSabrina’s spiritednessand Clare’s mildernature always struckme.”

“Sabrina is a

wonderful woman,Andrew, but I havenever wanted anyoneexactly like my sister.One Sabrina in his lifeis enough for anyman!Clare was everything tome, almost from thatfirstsummer.Ilikedthefactthatsheneededme,and I only ever wishedforherhappiness.”

“Obviously,” Andrewobservedwithatouchof

sarcasm.“And what do you

meanbythat?”“Only that you were

so concerned with herhappiness that youquite forgot your own.You were so damnedunderstanding aboutRainsborough.”

“What choice did Ihave?”

“You might have

fought for yourself. Youmight have remindedher of your loyalty andlove.”

“And have had hermarry me out of guilt?That is what it wouldhavebeen,Andrew.Shethoughtofmeonlyasafriend, and believed Iloved her the sameway.”

“Becauseyouletherbelievethat.”

“You can’t dictatepassion,Andrew.JustinRainsboroughawakenedClare to the passionateside of her nature. Itwasn’therfault.”

“I don’t blame her,Giles.Oryou.Iamonlypointingoutthatyoulethergoveryeasily.”

Giles’s handclenched around hisglass almost hardenough to snap it. “I

knowthat.Now.”“Well,youhaveboth

changed. When youasked me to defendClare, I agreed for yoursake. But after I spokewithher, Iwas in it forher sake, too. Thewoman that I hadalways thought of asweak and passive hasmorecouragethanIwilleverclaim.”

“Was itcouragethat

kept her withRainsborough? Shereturned to his bed,even after his brutaltreatment of her. Shenever asked for help,not even from herparents.”

Andrew satthoughtfully for a fewminutes, sipping hissherry. “I don’t thinkthat either you or I willever be able to

comprehendwhat thosetwo years were like,Giles. JustinRainsborough did notonly deceive Clare, youknow. He deceived theton. And from whatClare described, I don’teven know if ‘deceived’istherightword.Atthebeginning, at least, itseems there were twoJustins, both of themreal and convincing.

Clare loved andresponded to the lovinghusband, who thenturnedonher.Andthenturnedagain.”

Giles rubbed hishand over his eyes. “Idon’t know which ishardest for me toaccept, Andrew. ThatClare loved him andstayedwithhim.Or...”

“That she killedhim.”

“Yes.”“It sounds like you

areangrythatshedidn’tact for herself. Andappalledthatshefinallydid.”

“She killed a man,Andrew. Not just anyman.Herhusband.”

“Inself-defense.Andinyourdefense, Imightadd,Giles.”

Giles got up andpaced the floor in front

ofAndrew’sdesk.“I thought that if I

married Clare, I couldmakeherforgetallofit.Makeherhappyagain.”

“Whom did youmarry,Giles?Andwhomdo you love? ClareWhitton,orClareDysartwhom you loved somanyyearsago.

Giles turned andlookedatAndrew.“Clareasked me the same

thing.”“Do you have an

answer?”“I don’t know. I

suppose that is myanswer. I don’t know."Giles paused, and thencontinuedinalowvoice.“We are no longersharingabed.Ormuchbesides the externals ofour life together.Perhapstherewillnever

be passion between us,Andrew.”

Andrew wassurprisedtofindhimselfembarrassed by hisfriend’s revelations. “Iam no expert onmarried love, Giles.Perhaps you never will.But I am an optimist. IthinkthatwhenyoucanreallyseeClareandloveherforwhosheis...”

“Could you love

someone who killed aman,Andrew?”

“Do you love yourfather,Giles?”

“Of course. Whathas that to do withanything?”

“Your father killedmany times when heservedinthearmy.”

“That was in a war.If he had not killed, hewouldhavebeenkilled.”

“Giles,” said Andrew

almost harshly, “Clareonlydidthesamething.Youwanted her to saveherself. How? Divorce?She would have beenruined. Resisting? Thatonlymadehimworse.Inthe end she had nochoice. The lovinghusband was goneforever,andinhisplacewas a brutal murderer.The one with blood onhis hands was Justin

Rainsborough,Giles.Hekilled their child. Healmost killed his wife.Yourwife.”

Gilessankbackintothischair. “I think Iambeginning to see thatyou and Clare are bothright. Yet there is stillsomething in me thatdoesnotwant toacceptit.”

“Iamsorryforbeingsohardonyou,Giles.It

ismucheasierformetoseeClareforwhosheis.I haven’t loved her foryearsthewayyouhave.Giveyourselftime.”

“I appreciate yourhonesty, Andrew. It iswhat I have mostadmired about you.”Giles hesitated. “It ispart of what Sabrinaloves in you, too,” headded.

“Ouch.Ahit,Giles.”

“God knows whatwill happen betweenClare and me, Andrew.Butthereisnothingbutyour own pride keepingyou from Sabrina, fromwhatIcansee.”

“Sabrina deservesmore, Giles. You couldnot want your sister tomarry a disreputablefellowlikemyself.”

“I wantmy sister tobe happy, Andrew. To

marry where she loves.Andshelovesyou.”

Andrew opened hismouth and then closeditagain.

“Oh,don’t trytosayanything. Just thinkabout it.” Giles pulledout his watch andglancedoutthewindow.“It has turned into adownpourafterall.Iwillbe soakedby the time I

findacab.”“Ihavemygreatcoat

here, Giles. Please takeit.”

“No,Ican’t.Thatwillleave you to get just aswet.”

“But I am not goingto Lady Carstairs’s!”Andrew pulled the coatdownfromitshookandhelditout.

Gileslookeddownathis evening clothes and

gave in. “All right. Andthankyou,Andrew.Foreverything.”

Andrew helped himinto the greatcoat, andGiles pulled the collaruparoundhisears.

“Good luck, Giles. Iwish you and Clare thehappiness you bothdeserve.”

Giles smiled andwavedhishand,sinkinghis head as far down

into the collar as hecould, so that he feltlike a turtle; then hestepped out into therain. His eyes were onthewet cobblestones ashe walked along, tryingto avoid the deepestpuddles. His eveningpumps would be likewet paper in a minute,he thought, completelyunawareofthetwomenwho had emerged from

the alley next toAndrew’s chambers. Helookedupandsawwhatappeared to be ahansom cab only ablockaway.

Odd, he thought,that is not a regularcabstand, and then,before he even knewwhat was happening, achloroform-soaked ragwasthrustintohisface,and he was being

grabbed from behind inwhat felt like a vise.Hestruggled with hisassailants, managing todriveanelbowbackintowhat felt like a slackbelly. He was almostfree when the drugoverwhelmed him andheslumpedinthearmsofhiscaptors.

****After Giles left him,

Andrew went back to

the briefs his solicitorhad prepared for him,but found himselfunable to concentrate.His conversation withGiles kept intrudinguponhisconsciousness,and from time to timehewouldsitbackinhischair and find himselfwondering if there wasanything he couldpossiblydo tohelpwiththesituation.Itwasalso

impossible to dismissGiles’s comments aboutSabrina. Was he beingfoolishly honorable?Was he truly protectingSabrina from marryingbeneath her or was heafraidtotaketheriskofmarryingabovehimself?Hadherejectedherlovebecausehedidnotwantto be considered a kindoffortunehunter?

After an hour ofaccomplishing nothing,he slammed his leatherportfolio closed anddecided that he wouldgo to the Carstairs'. Atthe very least, he couldlighten some of thetension between ClareandGiles.Andsecureawaltz with Sabrina.Perhaps holding her inhis arms again wouldclarifythings?

His rooms were notabovehischambers,buton Half Moon Street,and it took him awhileto get a hansom in therain. He was thereforeoneofthelasttoarrive,andinthecrush,ittookhimawhiletofindClare.

Shewasstanding ina small group thatincluded Lucy Kirkmanand his own brother,and when he lightly

touchedhershoulderashecameupbehindher,she turnedquicklywithan eager smile on herface.Whenshesawwhoit was, however, hersmilefaded.

“Surely my face isnot that unwelcome,Clare,”Andrewteased.

“Oh, Andrew, I amsorry. It is only that IthoughtyouwereGiles.”

Andrew looked

around. “What, is helingering on the dancefloor with some prettyyoungthing,Clare?”

“He has not arrivedat all, and I ambeginning to worry,”Clare answered. “He isalways prompt, youknow that. Sabrina andIcamedirectly fromthemusicale.Hewastojoinushere,becausehehadsome business to take

careof.”Andrewfrowned.“He

was with me earlier inthe evening. But thatwas almost two hoursago.Iunderstoodhimtosay he was comingdirectlyhere.”

Clare’s face becamepaleandworried.

“Now, now, I amsure there isnothing toworry about, LadyWhitton,” said Andrew’s

brother. “I am surethere is a logicalexplanation, isn’t there,Andrew?"

“He left in themiddle of the worst ofthedownpour.Hewouldhavehadabitofawalkto a cabstand. Perhapshegottoowetandwenthome to change, Clare.That would explain thedelay.”

Clare’s face

brightened.“Although I loaned

him my greatcoat,”Andrew continued, hisvoice trailing off as asudden, horrifying ideaoccurredtohim.

“What is it,Andrew?”Clareasked.

“Oh, nothing,nothing.IamsureGileswillbehereanyminute,Clare. Ifhe isnot, Iwillgo to Grosvenor Square

and inquire after him.He could just have theheadacheafterall.”

"But then he wouldhave sent amessage tous, Andrew,” saidSabrina, who had justjoined them in time tooverhear the lastexchange.

“I think you shouldwait another half hourat least before youconcern yourselves,”

saidLucy. “Whoknows,Giles might havestopped off at his clubfirst.” The musicianswerestrikingupawaltz,and Lord Avery said: “Ibelieve this is ourdance,MissKirkman?”

Clare’s partner alsoclaimed her, andAndrew and Sabrinawereleftalone.

“Ihaveafeelingthatall is not well with

Giles,”saidSabrinainaworriedvoice.

“Is this the famousintuitionofatwin?”saidAndrewlightly.

“Do not try to teaseme out of it, Andrew.Youknowwearealwaysvery much attuned toone another’s emotions.Remember the summerGiles broke his armwhenyouwerebothoutriding?”

Andrewremembered. They hadreturned home, Giles’sarm in a makeshiftsling, to find Sabrinapacingatthefrontdoor,with John Coachmanready to summon thedoctor. Sabrina hadbeen driven almostdistracted byexperiencing Giles’ssuffering and beinghelplesstodoanything.

“To tell you thetruth, Sabrina, I am alittle worried myself.”Andrew hesitated. “Doyou have a partner forthisdance?”

“Yes.No.Ican’tevenremember,” saidSabrina, distractedlysearchinghercard.

“Letme partner youthen, and I promise ifGileshasnotarrivedbythe time the music

stops,wewillgolookingforhim.”

Sabrina allowedherself to be led outonto the floor. She wasso concerned for herbrother, however, thatshe couldn’t relax untilhalfway through thedance, when she finallyrealized that she hadsaidnothing toAndrew,who had laced hisfingers through hers as

though to comfort herwiththeextracloseness.

When she finallylooked up into his face,shewas touchedby thewarmth and concernshesawthere.

“What did Gilescome to see you about,Andrew?”

“He wanted myadvice on a personalmatter,” respondedAndrew.

“You mean he isfinallywakingupto thefact that he must dosomething about hismarriage?”

“I was trying torespect his privacy,Sabrina,” said Andrewwitharuefulsmile.“ButImighthaveknownthatyou would go right totheheartofit.”

“Ihopeyougavehimgoodadvice.”

“And what wouldthatbe,Sabrina?”

“That he love hiswife forwho she is andnotwhathethoughthertobe.”

“Thenwe are of onemind, my dear,” saidAndrew, smiling downather.

Thewaltzendedandas he led her off thefloor, Andrew saidmeaningfully: “Giles

gave me some advice,too.”

She looked up athim quickly, wonderingjustwhatkindofadviceAndrew would havesought from herbrother. She was aboutto ask, hoping againsthopethatAndrew’stoneand the expression onhis face meant that itwas advice on amatterof the heart, when she

saw Clare standingaloneat theedgeof thedancefloor.

“Where is yourpartner,Clare?”

“Isenthimofftogetme a glass of punch.Sabrina, it has beenovertwohoursnowandGiles has not come. Ican’t stand hereworrying. I must gohome and see if he isthere.”

Sabrina tookClare’shands in hers andturned to Andrew.“Clare is right, Andrew.If Giles were sick orevenifhelingeredathisclub, he would havesentus amessage.Willyouescortushome?”

“Ofcourse.”****

Thetwowomenweresilent on the ride toGrosvenor Square, and

Andrewsatthere,tryingtoconvincehimself thattheywouldfindGiles inthe library of his townhouse or having retiredwith a headache. Theother possibility thathadcometomindattherout was far toodisturbing to thinkabout. But when theyreached GrosvenorSquare and inquired ofthe butler and Giles’s

valet, they were toldthat Lord Whitton hadnot returned to thehousethatevening.

“He told me he wasgoing directly to therout, and he dressedaccordingly,” said thevalet. “He would havehad no reason to comebackhere.”

“Henley, please getusadecanterofbrandyand three glasses, and

bring it to the drawingroom,” requestedAndrew.

“The fire is bankedthere,sir.MayIsuggestthelibrary?”

Andrew led Clareand Sabrina up thestairs and sat themdown upon the sofa.Now that they knewGiles was not here, hewasbecomingconvincedthat his suspicions

about his friend’sdisappearance were onthemark, but he didn’twant to say anythinguntilthebrandyarrived.

When the butlerknocked on the door,Andrew called him inand had him put thetray down on Giles’sdesk.

“Henley, will yousend a footman to LordWhitton’sclub?Thereis

still a chance that hislordship stopped thereand lost all sense oftime.”

“I don’t drinkbrandy,” said Clarewhen Andrew offeredheraglass.

“You might need it,Clare,” he said with asympatheticsmile.

Claretookasipandalmost choked as theliquor burned its way

downherthroat.“One more swallow

before we talk, Clare,”encouragedAndrew.

Clare had to admit,as she took a secondand then a third sip,thatat least thebrandywas warming her andthat her stomach feltunclenched for the firsttimeinhours.

Andrew tossed backhis own brandy and

pulled a chair up infrontofthetwowomen.

“Ithinkyouhaveanidea where Giles is,Andrew,” said Sabrina,turning her glassaroundandaroundandwatching the amberliquid swirl against thecrystal.

Clare glanced atSabrina in surprise.“Why, how wouldAndrewknow?”

Andrew cleared histhroat. “I have recentlybeen brought on to avery interesting case,Clare. I amgoing toactthe prosecutor for ayoung man who istaking several verypowerful criminals tocourt.”

Both womenfrowned. “Whatever hasthatgottodowithGiles,Andrew?” demanded

Sabrina.“Nothing. In fact, I

think Giles’sdisappearancehasmoreto do with me thanhimself. If I win thiscase, fourmenwho arethe proprietors of agaming hell could go toprison. They havealready offered myyoung client a bribethree times the amountofhislosses.”

“This young man issuing over a gamblingdebt,” asked Sabrina,unbelievingly.

“Yes.Andletussaveour discussion of whatisdoneandnotdoneforanothertime,shallwe?”

Clare looked over atAndrew, understandingat last dawning. “Youloaned Giles yourgreatcoat, Andrew. Thatiswhatyoutoldus.”

He nodded. “Gilesleft my office with thecollar pulled up aroundhis ears. If theydidnotsee him go in, but onlygottherewhenmyclerkleft, well, they wouldnaturally have noreason to think thatanyone but AndrewMore would be comingout.”

“And so they,whoever they are, think

they have kidnappedAndrew More,” saidClare slowly. “Butinstead they have LordWhitton.”

“I knew he was indanger,” whisperedSabrina,reachingouttoclaspClare’shand.

“But they will lethim go as soon as theydiscover they have thewrongman,”saidClare.

“Won’tthey?”“When is this trial,

Andrew?” Sabrinaasked.

“Notforfourdays.”“So they kidnapped

you...Giles,sothatthisyoung man would haveto bring the caseforward himself. Andmostlikelylose.”

“He is a student atInner Temple. But youare right, Sabrina, it is

likely they didn’t wantanexperiencedbarristerrepresentinghim.”

Andrew was happythat both women wereonly talking ofkidnapping. He hopedMessrs. Oldfield et al.werenot foolishenoughto attempt anythingmore serious. If theywere desperate men,Giles could be lyingdead in some alley, a

possibility he certainlywould not suggest toGiles’swifeorsister.

ChapterTwenty-nine

Ifasked,Gileswould

have preferred thecomfort and silence ofdeath to the poundingheadache heexperienced uponawakening the nextmorning.Hehadopenedhis eyes once and thenshut them immediately,for the light made his

headevenworse.Atfirsthethoughthewaslyinginhisownbed,sufferingthemorning-aftereffectsof too much drink,althoughhewasusuallyveryabstemious.

Then he becameconscious of thehardness of themattressunderhimandthe scratchiness of therough wool blanketunder his cheek. The

soundsandsmells fromoutside were foreign,too. Although, Godknows,mybreathisfoulenough to have drunkmyself intoastupor,hethought as he proppedhimselfuponhiselbowand opened his eyesagain, determined tosettleonceand forall ifhewereinthemiddleofanightmare.

The vertigo that

assailed him wasaccompanied by anattack of nausea, andhe hardly had time toget his head over thebed.Afterheretchedupbileandwhatfeltlikeallhis internal organs aswell, he fell back,exhausted. But a fewminutes later he felt alittle better, and pullinghimselfupintoasittingposition, opened his

eyesagain.He was on a straw-

mattressed pallet in asmall filthy, dirt-flooredroom.Fromthewaythelight poured downthrough the slattedwindow, he guessed hewas in a cellar. Butwhosecellarandwhy?Itonlymadethepoundingworse when he tried tounderstand what hadhappened, so he sat

there, breathing deeplyto keep the nausea atbay and letting hissenses take in all theinformationtheycould.

The noise of heavyfootsteps above himseemed to indicate thathe was right aboutbeing in a cellar. Andhis ears seemed to alsobe telling him that thecellarwasinaverypoorneighborhood from the

absence of friendly andfamiliar street cries.Instead,thereseemedtobesomesortofbrawlinggoing on outside. Ifthere had been anyoneto wager with, hethought, after fifteenminutes of focusing onsounds and smells, Iwould wager that I amin the cellar of somerookery in Seven DialsorSt.Giles.Make itSt.

Giles, he thought, withan appreciation of theirony. My patron saint.Maybe I have died andgonetohellformysins.Although, I neverthought I was thatmuchofasinner.

He heard someone,two someones, comingdownstairs and wasinstantly alert. Therewas a sound of metalraspingmetal,andthen

thedooropenedandtwomenenteredtheroom.

These are no angelsbutSatan’sminions,hethought with anobjective humor thatsurprised him giventheir threateningappearance.

One was short,squat, barrel-chested,andbaldasanegg.Theother was tall, with thecauliflower ears of a

pugilist. Both reeked ofunwashed bodies andclothes. Although, I amcertainly adding to thearoma,admittedGiles.

“Ye’re awake I see,Mr. More,” said theerstwhilepugilist.

AtfirstGilesthoughthe was speaking to hiscompanion. Then itdawned on him that itwas he who was beingaddressed. Mr. More?

Surely his name wasWhitton. God’srecording angel made amistakeandsenthimtohell and Andrew toheaven in his place?Andrew’s name broughthimoutofhiswhimsicalfog. For some strangereason these two thugsthought hewasAndrewMore.Heclosedhiseyesandleanedback,willinghimself to remember.

LastnighthehadvisitedAndrew...itwasraining... he had pulledAndrew’s coat aroundhim ... the hansom cab...thatawfulsmell.

“Awake and cast uphis accounts, hi see,”saidtheshortman.

“Notfeelingthethingthis morning, are ye,sir?"

Giles groaned and

shook his head. Actinghelplesswould givehimsome time to decidewhat course to take.Actually, consideringhowawfulhefelt,itwashardlyacting.

“May I have somewater,”hecroaked.

“ ‘May I?’ Coo, weare being perlite now,aren’t we? Don’t worry,ye’llbewateredandfed,gov.”

“And I need achamberpot.Soon.”

“George, will yehinform the butler thatAndrew More, Esquireneedsapottopissin.”

George laughed andwent upstairs for apitcherofwaterandtheaforesaidpot.

“Why am I here?”asked Giles in aquaveringvoice. “Idon’teven know you. What

possible quarrel couldyouhavewithme?”

“Don’t take thispersonal, gov. Hit ain’t.We are just to keep yeoutofcourtforawhile.”

Gilesswunghis legsover thesideof thecot,and immediately hiscaptor stood over himthreateningly.

“Of course, hif yegive us any trouble, we‘as permission to drop

you.”“At the moment,”

whispered Giles, notactingatall,“Iaminnoconditiontogivetroubletoanyone.”

“Hi can see that,gov. But by thishafternooon, ye moightbe.Hi’mjustwarningyeforyereowngood.”

The door scrapedopen, and short andsquat entered with

water in a dirty-lookingpitcher and a chippedand uncoveredreceptacle.

“No food yet, gov.Ye’re stomach won’ttake it, and hi don’twant to askGeorge ‘ereto clean up after yeagain.”

George had alreadywiped awaymost of thesignsofGiles’ssickness,and pushed the

chamber pot under thepallet.

“Settle in and makeyerself comfortable,gov,” said the tall manwho as yet had noname.“George'llbebackthisevening.”

Afterhiscaptorsleft,Giles took a drink fromthepitcher,sloshingthewater around in hismouth and spitting itout onto the dirt floor.

The next mouthful heswallowed. He wasthirsty enough to finishoff the pitcher butstopped himself,realizing George theToadwouldnotbebackbeforeevening.

Immediately afterdrinking he needed torelieve himself, and hegingerly pulled out thechamberpot,whichwassurprisingly clean. He

pushed it into thecornerwithhisfoot,notwantingtohaveitunderhisbed.

His legs were stillshaky,buthedecidedalittle exercise would dohimgood.Hepacedoutthe size of the room:eleven by thirteen, andwhile he paced he triedtoworkoutastrategy.

Andrew More hadbeenkidnapped tokeep

him out of court.Andrew’s case againstthe gambling hellowners was before thecourtlaterthisweek,soGileswascertain itwasthey who were behindthis. They could makefurther attempts tobribe the young client,hesupposed,butifthatfailed, theywerehopingto insure that withoutexpert counsel, the boy

wouldlose.What would happen

if he told his captorsthey had got the wrongman: Lord GilesWhitton, not AndrewMore, Esq. Would theylet him go, just likethat?Orwouldtheykillhim and drop himsomewhere. If he toldthemwhohereallywas,whyshould theybelievehim?Orreleasehim,for

thatmatter,sohecouldbring the law downupon them? They couldkill him and leave hisbody in some alleywhere it might not befound for days. Andwhen it was, all wouldsuppose he had been avictimoffootpads.

As long as theythoughthewasAndrew,Giles did not think hehimself was in

immediate danger. Theproprietors would haveknown their mistakeinstantly,ofcourse.Buthe doubted they wouldbe stopping by for anofficialvisit.Theywouldhave made sure thatthere were no obviousconnections betweenthem and theirhirelings, so they couldnot be prosecuted forobstructingjustice.

But surely Andrewwould put two and twotogetherandrealizewhyhis friend was missing.He’dhaveaRunneroutlooking for Giles, andthere was every chancehe’dberescuedinadayor two. If not, then hewouldfighthiswayout.

There was no realdilemma: if he sat tightforafewdays,ifheputup with some

discomfort, Andrewwouldwinhis case andGiles would be free. Itwas the least he coulddo for a friend, hethoughtironically.

****Andrew had left

SabrinaandClaretogetwhat sleep they couldand promised to returnthenextmorning.

When he wasushered into the

breakfastroomthenextday where Sabrina wasfinishing a lightbreakfastandClarewasmerely pushing eggsaroundonherplate,hisheart sank, and herealized he had beenhoping against hope tosee Giles in his usualplaceat theheadof thetable, full of apologiesfor causing them suchworry.

“Good morning,ladies,” he said ascheerfullyashecould.

Sabrina gave him agrateful smile. “Thankyouforcomingsoearly,Andrew.”

Claremerelyputherfork down, placed herhand on Andrew’s andasked anxiously: “Youhaven’t heard anything,haveyou,Andrew?”

“No. And since you

obviously haven’t,either, I think we mayassume that Giles haseither fallen victim torandomfoulplayorwasmistaken forme. Eitherway, we need to takesomeaction.”

“We obviously needthehelpofaconstable,”said Sabrina. “Gilesmust be reportedmissingthismorning.”

“I have thought of

that,ofcourse,”Andrewrepliedslowly.“ButIamnot sure it is the bestwaytogo.”

“Why not, Andrewp”Clareaskedquietly.

“Suppose it is as Isuspect. If theproprietors hear theyhave the wrong man ...well,perhapstheymightdohimharminordertosilencehim.”

“But they must

know already thatGilesis not you,” protestedSabrina.

“Not necessarily. Idon’t think they wouldhave kidnapped Gilespersonally. They wouldhave hired someone.Giles could have toldthem who he is, ofcourse.”

“Or he is lyingunconscious or dead,”

whisperedClare.“Truly, I do not

think they wouldmurder a peer of therealm,” Andrewreassuredher.

“But you have justargued that they thinkhe is you, Andrew,”Sabrina said tartly. “IfGilesmaybe indanger,I say we need aconstable. Unless youare more afraid for the

outcomeofyourcase?Itwill be quite a surpriseforthesemenwhenyouwalkintothecourtroomafterall.”

“Sabrina, you arebeing unfair,” Clareexclaimed.

“Perhaps she isright,” said Andrew,stung by the disdain inSabrina’s voice. “Iconfess,thatwereitnota good friend, I’d be

happy to know theythoughtIwasoutoftheway. But Giles is myoldest friend, Sabrina.And you of all peopleshouldknowmebetter.”

Sabrinasatverystilland then in a tightlycontrolled voiceapologized. “My onlyexcuse,Andrew,isthatIam franticwithworry. Iam sure Giles is stillalive.Iwouldknowifhe

weredead, for apart ofme would have died.But Iamverysure thathe is in pain and indanger.”

“I understand,Sabrina,” said Andrewgently.“Actually,IthinkthebestcoursetofollowistohireaRunnertodosome quickinvestigation. Someonenearmy chambersmayhave seen something.

And if itwerearandomact, well, the Runnerswould have word of awell-dressed victim, Iamsure.”

“Andrew is right,”agreedClare.“Letusgeta Runner here rightaway. And have himwork quietly. We don’twant to alarm anyoneafterall.”

“Weare all expectedat the Bellinghams’

tonight,” said Sabrina.“IfGilesisabsentagain,it will be all over townby morning thatsomethingiswrong.”

“Wewill say thathewas called back toWhitton for anemergency,” said Clarematter-of-factly. “Willyou go to Bow Street,Andrew?”

“Immediately.”****

Theywere lucky, forthere was a Runneravailable and Andrewoutlined the situationfor him. That firstafternoon’sinvestigationyieldednothing,but thenext morning, theRunner appeared atAndrew’s rooms, wherehe was, for the mostpart,keepinghimself.

“Have you foundanything at all,

Ruthven?”“Yes, sir. There was

a youngwoman comingout of a house acrossthe street. One of themaids. It was raininghardsoshecouldn’tseetheir faces,butshesawtwo men bundling athirdintoahansomcabright about the timeLord Whitton wouldhave been leaving yourchambers.”

“Damnthemtohell,”said Andrew. “Was healive?”

“The young womancouldn’ttell.”

“He must havebeen,” said Andrew,trying to reassurehimself. “Why elsewould they take thetrouble to bundle himintoahansom?”

Neither man spokethe possible answer to

that question: to dropthebodyelsewhere, likeintheriver.

“There isn’t verymuch for me to go on,Mr. More. My guess isthat if Lord Whitton isalive,whichwecertainlyhope, he is being heldsomewhereinoneoftherookeries.”

“Well, you are theprofessional. What dowedonow?”

“I could hangaround 75 St. JamesStreet and see if eitheror both of these villainsshowsup.”

“But we don’t evenknow what they looklike.”

“The maid did say,sir,as they lookedabitlike Jack Sprat and hiswife. One tall and thin,andtheothershortandbroad.” The Runner

hesitated. “The problemis, sir, that thesegaming hells, well, theyhave a nose for aconstable or a Runner.I’ll never get inside,Mr.More. It could be awaste of yourmoney tohave me hangingaround.”

“But if there is eventhe slightest chancethey may contactOldfield or one of the

others, you must bethere. Is there anythingelsewecando?”

“Short of gettingsomeone into number75 and choking thetruthoutofoneofthem,Ican’tsaythereis,sir.”

“I’d be happy to doso,butI’dnevermakeitpast the first door,either!And Idon’twantthemtoknowtheyhavethewrongman.”

****The first day in the

cellar was not so bad,forGilessleptmostofitaway due to theaftereffects of thechloroform. He wasshaken awake forsupper byMr. Toad, ashehadcometothinkofhim.Supperwasabowlofclearbrothwithafewvegetables floatingaround in it and one

grisly piece of lamb. Bythat time, Giles’sstomach had settled,and he was hungryenoughto find itedible.Hewasleftwithasmallcandle and a fewmatches, but shortlyaftersupperheblewoutthe light and went tosleep.

Thenextmorningalltraces of his headachewere gone, and he was

beginning to feelrestless. He was pacingthe room when hisbreakfast arrived, thistime delivered by histallerjailer.

“Ere ye go, gov. Abowl of porridge and acupofcoffee.”

The porridge was agelatinousmess,burnedon thebottomandwithno sweetening, and thecoffee had so much

sugar in it thataspooncould have been stuckup in it. Giles wasalmost tempted to pouroneupontheother,butresisted.

“How long do youintend to keep mehere?"hedemanded.

“Why, ye know theanswer to that, Mr.More.”

“I suppose I do,”Giles admitted. He

thought Andrew hadsaid Oldfield was thename of one of theproprietors.Heferventlyhoped so. “Oldfield andthe rest will never getaway with this, youknow.Norwillyou.”

“Oh,hishouldthinkthey will,” the ex-pugilist said, tacitlyconfirming Giles’ssuspicions. “And hifthey don’t, we will.

There ain’t nuffink toconnectthemtous.”

Justasthemanwasabout to leave, Gilessaid: “My chamber potneedstobeemptied.”

“Why, as to that,gov, we ain’t got nodownstairs maid,”repliedthetallmanwithawinkandleft.

Giles finished hisbreakfast and sat downon his cot. His captors

did not seem to meanhimharm,but thiswasobviously not going tobeapleasantfewdays.

****By the beginning of

their third day ofwaiting for news,Sabrina and Clare wereexhausted. They haddecided to follow theirregular schedule inorder to prevent anygossip, and the effort of

maintainingappearances waswearing them out. Theywere convinced it wasworth the effort,nevertheless, since noone seemed to doubttheirstoryaboutGiles’semergency trip toWhitton.

At home, Sabrinawastheoneinthemostobvious distress, andwhen Andrew visited

that morning to keepthemuponreportsfromthe Runner, he wasamazed at how calmClare seemed and howdistraughtSabrinawas.

“Has Mr. Ruthvenseen anyone ‘round St.JamesStreetyet,”Clareaskedcalmly.

“No, but I think itimportant to keep himthere.”

“Can we not do

anythingelse,Andrew,?"demanded Sabrina. “Ifeel so helpless, sittinghere in touch withGiles’s distress andunabletotakeaction.”

“Ifyouwish,Iwillgoto St. James Streetmyself,Sabrina,andtellthem they have got thewrong man. Maybe Ishould have done thatimmediately.” He hatedwatchingSabrinainthis

state.“No,Andrew.Westill

have no evidence theyare behind this,” saidClare.

“Oh,Clare,”Sabrinaexclaimed, “Of courseweknowtheyare.”

“And if they are,what might they do toyou and Giles if youconfrontthem?Wecan’trisk it,at leastnotyet.”Clare put her arms

around Sabrina. “Weknow through you thatGilesisstillalive,Brina.We will just have toassume that they willrelease him as soon asthey realize theirmistake.” Clare turnedtoAndrew.“Sabrinahasbeenpacingthedrawingroom for an hour. Awalk in thepark is justwhat she needs, and Idonot have the energy.

Would you take her,Andrew?”

“Of course. Clare isright,Sabrina.Youneedtogetout.”

Sabrina offered atoken protest, and thenallowed herself to beconvinced.

After theyhadgone,Clare went up to herbedchamber and stoodby the window. Thesmall gardenbelowwas

gray-green and brown.The crab apple tree inthe corner had droppedall its leavesbutnot itsfruit, and was heavywithsmallgoldencrabs.On another day, Claremight have appreciatedthe picture, but despiteher calm appearance,she, too,was fearful forGiles’ssafety.

She had spoken thetruth to her sister-in-

law: she did trustSabrina’s feeling thatGileswasnotdead.Butwhat did they know ofthesemenafterall?Didthey really plan torelease “Andrew More”after the trial? It wouldbe dangerous for themnot to, it was true. Yetthey seemed to havecoveredthemselveswell.They seemed to havehired two ruffians with

no direct connection tothe gaming hell orthemselves.Whatmightthese ruffians do toGiles?

Of course, if theyknew they had LordWhitton,thekidnappersat least might be moreinterestedincollectingaransom.ButClareknewGilesverywell:hewouldsurely have guessedwhyhehadbeentaken,

andwould never dreamof spoiling Andrew’scase by identifyinghimself.Hewas a dear,chivalrousidiot,thoughtClare,hereyesfillingupwithtears.

She would not cry.She had not cried yet,although Sabrina had.ButifanyharmcametoGiles, shedidnotknowhowshewouldsurvive.

Shestoodthereforawhile, lost in thought,and then rang forMartha. When herabigail arrived, Claregaveherawintrysmile.“I need you toaccompany me toBrutonStreet,Martha.”

“BrutonStreet?”“Yes.Wearegoingto

purchaseapistol.”****

The shop attendant

was surprised to see alady of quality at hiscounter. It was not thefact that she wanted topurchase a pistol; theirgunsmithshaddesignedseveral lovely littlegunsthat fit right in a lady’sreticule. But ladies ofthe ton usually senttheir husbands orbrothers. It was rarelythat one actuallysteppedintotheshop.

“I have a beautifulmother-of-pearl-handledpistol that would fitcomfortably in yourhand,mylady.”

Clarelethimdropitin her palm and closedherhandaroundit.Sheshuddered as themovementbroughtbackthe evening of Justin’sdeath.

“Itisverysmall,”shemanagedtowhisper.

“Why, yes, just theright size for a lady’sreticule.”

“Howeffectiveisit?”The clerk looked

puzzled. “It will affordyouprotection,mylady,should anyone try tobecome too bold, shallwesay.”

“Yes, I can see thatit might discourageunwantedsuitors.But Iam looking for

something a bit moresubstantial. Somethingthat would befrighteningtoacriminaltype.”

Martha and theclerk exchangedsurprisedglances.

“Hmmm.”“Yousee,Iamgoing

on a journey alone tojoin my husband, andalthough I will haveoutriders, I would be

gratefulforapistolIcankeep with me in thecoach. Againsthighwaymen, youunderstand.”

“Of course, ofcourse. Well, in thatcase, here is somethingthatmayfityourneeds.Itwillfitintoamufforasmall basket next toyou.”

Clare balanced thepistol in her hand. It

was smaller thanJustin’spair,butlookedlethalenough.

“Andbullets?”“Of course. I can

show you how to loadit.”

“Thereisnoneedforthat,” Clare announced.“My...uh...brothercangiveme lessonsbefore Ileave. If you could justload it for me now,please.”

“Oh, I do notrecommend that youwalk around with aloaded gun, my lady,”the clerk said, ratherhorrified.

“Nevertheless,Iwishto purchase it loaded,”Claresaidinsistently.

“Yes,mylady.”****

When they were outon the street again,Martha stepped in front

ofhermistress.“Now just what is

thisall about,my lady?Whateverdoyouneedapistol for?Anddon’t tryto give me that cock-and-bull story of a longjourney to meet yourhusband. We all in theservants’hallknowthatsomething hashappened to LordWhitton.” Martha hadbothhandsonherhips,

and Clare laughednaturally for the firsttime since Giles haddisappeared.

“Oh, thank God foryou,Martha,”shesaid.

Martha belatedlybecame conscious ofhow she sounded andhowshewasstanding.

“I beg your pardon,mylady.ButIamright,nevertheless.”

“I know you only

want to protect me,Martha. But I cannotthink of anotherway todo this, truly I cannot.Believe me, I hadthought never to evenlook at a pistol again. Icannot tell you what Iam planning to do, butyou must trust that Ican takecareofmyself.And, I hope, myhusband.”

ChapterThirtyBy the third day of

captivity, Giles wouldhave welcomed anyrescuer.Thecellarroomwas fetid with its ownancientodorsaswellasthe unemptied chamberpot.

His captors had notseemed personallyhostile at first. Indeed,he told himself daily,

theywerenotpersonallyhostilenow:justhostile.When he had asked tohave the chamber potremoved, Mr. Toad justlaughedinaparticularlynastywayandsaid:“Dohi look loike achambermaid? Thisain’t Fenton’s, gov. Hifyou are filling that up,we will ‘ave to stopfillingyouup.Hit’llcostuslessinthekeepingof

you.”Andsotheyhad,on

thesecondday,cuthimback to two meals andonly one pitcher ofwater.

Whenheaskedforabook,oratleastapieceofpaperandapen,theylaughedinhisface.

This was not, herealized,onlygoingtobeamatter of sitting tight

forafewdays.He had never been

so powerless before, soat the mercy ofanother’s whims. Hespent thedays trying toremember and reciteevery bit of poetry hehadbeenmadetolearn.He paced the floor anddeclared AristophanesThe Frogs in Greek,whichseemedsingularly

appropriate, given thephysiognomyofGeorge.

At night he tried tosleep. But he wasbecoming increasinglyanxious about hissafety. His deceptionhad seemed so obviousand simple at first, butnow he wondered whyhehadeverdoneit.Yetif he claimed his ownidentitynow,theywouldlikelynotbelievehim.

Obviously he wasmissed. ObviouslySabrina and Clare andAndrew would haveinstigatedasearch.Andwhat good would thatdo, he would thinkdesperately,lyingawakein the dark, trying tobreathe through hismouth, but unable toforverylong,foritdriedhis throat out so andthey didn’t give him

enough water, damntheireyes.

Every night, histhoughts eventuallyturnedtoClare.Justashe had recalled all thepoetry he knew, hewouldlietheresleeplessand go over everymemory he had of hiswife, from the first timehe had met her. Hecould see her shy faceas she got down from

the carriage that firstbroughther toWhitton.Thehero-worshipinhereyes when he rescuedherfromLucyKirkman.The warmth andaffectionshehadalwaysshown him. He evenremembered, though hedidnotwantto,thewayher facehad litupwithlove and happinesswhen she looked up atJustin Rainsborough

aftertakinghervows.And then there was

the Clare who returnedtoLondonlookinglikeawraith.Whyhadhenotseen the truth then?Why had he assumed,like everyone else, thatshewasjustalongtimerecovering from hermiscarriage?Heclaimedto love her, yet he hadnever once guessed thetruthofhermarriage.

Then Clare at theinquest, when she toldthe truth and describedthe beating and thekicking and thechoking. He had feltsuch a surge ofprotective love for her.But even then, he hadnot understood her.And, God forgive him,therewas a small pieceofhimthatwasangryat

her, that did think, “Ifshehadmarriedme,hadever looked at me likethat, none of it wouldhavehappened.”

Clare was right. Hehad never faced hisdeepest feelings abouther marriage. He hadheld onto his image ofhimselfasherprotector,as her dear friend. Adearfriendwouldsurely

want the woman heloved to be happy, evenif with someone else.And he had, that wastrueenough.Buthehadalso been furious withher for rejecting him,and had never beenwilling to admit it untilnow.

He would pushhimself further toimaginethesceneintheRainsborough library.

He would let Clare bethere, let her bestandingthere,pokerinhand, dress blood-soaked, terrified herhusband was not reallydead.

Hehadtolethimselfsee and love thatClare:he knew that now. Hejust wasn’t sure hecould do it. And sowhen he couldn’t bethereinthatlibraryany

longer, he would goback to that firstsummer and start alloveragain.Somehowhehad to love her, wholeand entire. If—no—whenhe got out of thishellholehewantedtobeable to take her facegently between hishands and look deepinto her eyes, seeingeverything and lovingeverythingshewas.

****Clare had given up

on the Bow StreetRunner early in thegame. It was clear thatthe proprietors of St.James Street wouldhave wanted noconnection madebetween them and thekidnappers, andtherefore it was highlyunlikelythattheywouldbe contacted at the

gaminghell.Shewouldnever get

into St. James Streetherself, of course, orelse she would havebeen there by thesecond day. No, shewouldhavetogetoneofthem to come to her. Ifthey were all correct,Giles would not havegiven them his name,and Whitton wouldmeannothingtothem.

Accordingly, the dayaftershehadpurchasedthe pistol, the daybefore the trial, she satdown and carefullypenned a note, whichshe handed to JamesFootman.

“I want you to takethistoMr.Oldfieldat75St.JamesStreet. Ihaveaskedhimtowaitonmethis afternoon, so waitforareply.”

James bowed andleft. All the servantswere of course aware ofwhat had happened,whatwith LordWhittongone, Andrew Morearoundallthetime,andthattrialtostartonthemorrow. He probablyshouldnotbelettinghismistress do this, hethought, as he lingeredon the steps andwatched Andrew More

comingupthestreet.Heshould give this note toMr. More and let himdealwithit.Buthisfirstloyalty was to LadyWhitton. Hiring aRunner had seeminglydone no good. Maybe alady’s tears would domore. And no harmcouldcometoherinthehouse, after all. And sohe merely bowed toAndrew as he passed

him and hurried downthestreet.

“Do you have anynews, Andrew?” Clareasked when he wasshown into the drawingroom. She and Sabrinaasked the samequestionseverydayandreceived the sameanswer:“No,notyet.”

“Is Sabrina in,Clare?”

“She is, and I am

worriedabouther.”Andrew looked

immediately concernedas she had known hewould.

“I think she needsan outing thisafternoon, but I couldnot persuade her toaccompany me to thepark. Perhaps youcould,Andrew.”

“Icantry.”Clare rang for

Henley. “Henley, canyou send upstairs toLady Sabrina and tellherMr.Moreishere.”

“Yes,mylady.”“Tomorrow is the

trial, Andrew. Do youreally think they willreleaseGiles?”

“As soon as he tellsthem who he is. Whichhe will do tomorrow, Iamsure.”

Are you really,

Andrew? wonderedClare. Why would thekidnappers want toplace themselves in anydanger? Once theyfound out they hadseized a peer of therealm, wouldn’t theywant to silence him,ratherthanhavehimgototheauthorities?

Andrew’s eyes wentto the door when

Sabrinaentered.Shedidlook wretched, thoughtClare,asofcourse,theyallwere.

“Sabrina, Andrewwas just asking if wewould like to go for astrollinthepark.Ihavesome correspondence tocatch up on, butperhapsyoucouldkeephimcompany?”

“It is a lovely day,Sabrina.Wewouldboth

be the better for a littleexercise,” Andrew saidencouragingly.

“Oh, I am sure youhave cooked upsomethingbetweenyou,but yes, all right. I willgo. Just let me get mypelisse.”

“Thank you,Andrew,”saidClare.

“No need, my dear.You know that it is mypleasure.”

“And a bit painful,too,Ithink,myfriend.”

“A bit painful, yes,”headmitted.

“Yet only because ofyour own stubbornsenseofhonor,Ithink?”

“So she has toldyou?”

“Not until I hadguessedalready.”

“You mustunderstandmyreasons,Clare.”

Clare smiled. “Oh, Ido, Andrew. But honorhas so little to do withlove.”

They heardSabrina’s step in thehall,andAndrewbowedhisgood-bye.

****As they walked

toward the park,Andrewstoleaglanceathis companion’s face.Sabrina,whohadnever

in his memory lookedanything but vibrantand alive was like awashed-out watercolor.EvenClarehadmorelifein her face. “Have youbeen eating andsleeping, Brina?” heaskedhergently.

“Do I look thathagged, then, Andrew?"she answered,attempting a light,teasingtone.

“Don’t try to evademe, my dear. I thinkthis ordeal has been ashard on you as onClare. Perhaps harder,because of your specialbondwithGiles.”

“Please don’t be tookind, Andrew,” Sabrinaresponded in a voicechokedwith tears, “or Iwill be completelyundone. And I mustholdmyself together for

Clare’ssake.”“I think Clare is

holding up very well,considering.Infact,thismorning, she lookedmoreenergeticthanshehas in days. Almost asthough she hadsomething toaccomplish.”

“Perhaps itwasonlygetting us out of thehouse together,” saidSabrinawithasmile.

They were crossingthe thoroughfare at theentrance to the park,and Andrew had toconcentrate on gettingSabrina safely throughthe traffic. It wasn’tuntil they were in thepark and down one ofthe side paths that herespondedtoher.

“Thisisthefirsttimewe have been alonesince this summer,” he

admitted.“Yes, you have kept

yourself quite scarce,”she saidwith a tinge ofbitterness in her voice.“Pleasedon’tremindmeofmyfoolishness.”

“Do you know whatGiles came to see meabout that evening? Hecame to talk aboutClare. It seems theyhave been having theirproblems.”

“I know. It allseemedtostartoutverywell, but somethinghappened, and they areno longer ... there hasbeen some sort ofestrangement.”

“Giles told me thatClare accused him ofnot being able to lovethe woman she hasbecome. That he can’tlet himself admit to thereality of the past two

years. What do youthinkofthat,Sabrina?”

“Ibelieveshemayberight,” Sabrinaanswered thoughtfully.“We all had a certainpicture of Clare in ourminds, didn’t we? Butyou and I seem tohavebeen able to adjust tothechanges.Youwouldthinkitwouldnotbeso.That Giles, who hasloved her for years,

would find it easier toappreciate the way shehas changed,” Sabrinaaddedwonderingly.

“I think love blindspeople in differentways,” said Andrewquietly.

Sabrina hesitated.“Yes, it does,” sheanswered, wonderingwheretheirconversationwasgoing.

“For instance,”

Andrew continuedmatter-of-factly, “I havealways seen you asimpetuous andheadstrong.”

“A madcap,hoydenish girl? Is thatallyousaw,Andrew?”

“I think it was all Iwanted to see. I lovedyouforit,ofcourse.”

Sabrina’s breathcaughtinherthroat.

“You were such a

lovely counterpoint toGiles’s quiet kindness.But my love for thatlively mischievous girlblinded me to thevulnerability of thewomanyougrewinto.”

They had come to aside path, and Andrew,linkinghisarmthroughSabrina’s, led her downafewhundredyards.

“Ah, yes, here it is,”he said as they came

upon a small wrought-iron bench, and satthemdownonit.

He turned toSabrina and continued:“Even when you askedmetomarryyou...”

“Ineverasked you tomarryme,Andrew.”

“Everything but, mydear,” he said, his eyescrinkling up as he gaveher one of his most

charming smiles. “I stillsaw myself as the onlyone in a vulnerableposition.Afterall,Iama...”

“Younger son. Iknow,” she answeredwithmockexasperation.

“Youngest. I’d lovedyouforyears,youknow,buthadschooledmyselfvery well to see thesituation from one sideonly.”

“I see.” Sabrina satvery still. “And havethings changed,Andrew?” she asked,clasping her handstogether to keep themfromtrembling.

“I am not sure thatanything has changed,Sabrina.”

Shethoughtshehadneverfeltsoempty.

“ButIseewhatthereis very differently now.

For instance,now I cansee thatyouneedme. Ineversawthatbefore.”

Sabrinafeltthatshehad been to hell andcome back in oneinstant.

“PerhapsIwasneververy good at showingyou,Andrew.”Herwholeframe was tremblingnow, a reaction to thestrain of the past weekand her sense that her

whole life was about tochange.

“Giles and I talkedabout more than hismarriage, Sabrina. Hesaid he would welcomeme as a brother-in-law.Hesaid Iwasasstupidand proud as you hadaccused me of being.”As he was speaking,Andrew felt hershivering and withoutthinking, put his arm

around her and drewherunderhiscloak.

It took a fewminutes, but slowly thewarmth of his bodypenetrated to hers, andsherelaxedagainsthim.

“I am hoping thatyour proposal is stillopen, Sabrina,” saidAndrewsoftly,liftingherchinwithhisfinger.

“I did not propose to

you,Andrew.”“Then I suppose I

will have to propose toyou,” he said with agrin. “Sabrina, will youbemywife?”

“Do you love me,Andrew?”

“Haven’t I beentellingyouthat?”

“Not in the last fewminutes,Andrew.”

“I love you, SabrinaWhitton.”

“And I love you,Andrew More,” shewhispered, lifting herface up to his andclosinghereyes.

Heleaneddownandkissedhergently.“Ilikethewayyoufitrightintomybody,mylove.Anditis good to know that Icanofferyoucomfort.”

“And I need yourcomfort so, Andrew.”Tears started to stream

down her cheeks, andshebrushed themawayquickly, but not beforehe realized she wascrying.

“I am sure Giles isall right, Brina. He willbe released as soon asthetrialbeginsandtheyseetheyhavethewrongman.”

“Oh, Andrew, I amsorry to spoil thismoment. It isn’t that I

don’t want you tocontinuekissingme.”

“Therewillbeplentyof time for kisses andmore, I promise youthat,mydear.Nowisn’tthe time to celebrateanyway. But we couldgo back and tell Clarethe news? If you aresure you can besatisfied with adisreputable barrister.You could have had

anyone, even theviscounthimself!”

“I have always onlywanted you, Andrew.”Theystartedslowlybackdownthepath,thistimewith Andrew’s armaroundherwaist.“AndIsuspect Miss LucyKirkman has her clawsinyourbrother,whetherheknowsitornot.”

ChapterThirty-one

Clare’s note had

invited Mr. Oldfield tocall upon Lady Whittonimmediatelytodiscussaway of settling herbrother’s gamblingdebts. The nameWhitton could meannothingtohim,andshehoped that LadyWhitton’s forgetfulness

about mentioning her“brother’s” name wouldbe overlooked in theinterest of obtainingmoney.

She was lucky. Mr.Oldfield had been in.Mr. Oldfield wasavailable to LadyWhitton. Mr. Oldfieldshowed up on thedoorstep twentyminutes after she hadsent her note, eager to

discover just who LadyWhitton’s brother was:youngPayne,whoowedthree hundred pounds,or Lieutenant Britton,who had dropped evenmoretwonightsago.

Mr. Oldfield’sappearance surprisedClare.Shehadexpectedthe proprietor of agaminghelltobevulgarand common. But Mr.Oldfieldwasawell-built,

quietly dressed man ofmedium height whobowed politely to herand waited for her tospeak.

“Thankyousomuchfor responding soquickly tomy note,Mr.Oldfield.”

“It is my pleasure,LadyWhitton.”

Clare had herembroidery basket nextto her on the sofa, and

sheranher fingersoverthe silks as she spoke.“You see, I only foundout about my brother’stroubles lastnight,”sheadded.“Ihaveaskedmyhusband to help mybrother in thepast,buta few weeks ago hedeclared it was the lasttime. My brother isyoung and foolish,though, and toldmehewentbackone lasttime

tothetablessohecouldrepay my lord. Ofcourse, he losteverything.”

Mr. Oldfield lookedappropriatelysympathetic andclucked his tongue.“Young men are oftenlike that, my lady. It issad,butwecandolittleabout it when theyinsistuponplayinguntilthey bleed themselves

dry.”“Yet gaming is

illegal, is it not?” Clareasked with assumedinnocence.

Oldfield cleared histhroat. “There are lawson the books, yes. Butthe habit of play is tooingrained in so many,my lady.” He paused,and then said tactfully:“Now about the smallmatterofyourbrother’s

debts. Just what is theyoungman’sname,andI can tell you exactlywhatheowes.”

“My husband mustnever hear about this,Mr. Oldfield.” Clarepulledthebasketonherlapandgrippedittightlyin both hands. “That iswhyIaskedyoutocomeimmediately, for he isawaythisafternoon.”

“There would be no

reason for me to tellLordWhitton,my lady,”Oldfield reassured her.“Indeed,IdonotbelieveI have ever even metLord Whitton. I wouldguess, ifhedisapprovesof your brother, he isnot a gaming manhimself.”

“Yet I think someacquaintances of yourshavemethim.”Claregot

up and carried herbasketovertothesmalltable directly behindhim.

“I do not think so,my lady,” said Oldfield,turning to address herand finding himselfstaringintothebarrelofacockedpistol.

“LadyWhitton, I amsure I don’t know whyyou wish to threatenme?” he said after a

moment of shockedsilence.

“Threaten you, Mr.Oldfield?”

“Uh, yes, threatenme into releasing yourbrother from his debts.As a gentleman, yourbrother himself wouldnot approve. Here. Letme take that,” he said,starting to reach outslowly,“beforeyouharmyourself. An

inexperienced handshouldneverbeholdinga cocked firearm, mylady.”

Clare took a stepback. “Oh, but myhands are quiteexperienced.”Herhandswere also shaking, andshe drew them into herbody to steady them. Itwas very hard to havethem curled around apistol again. In front of

her was Mr. Oldfield,but he also seemed tobe Justin. She took adeep breath and shookher head a little. “Doyou know what myname was before ImarriedLordWhitton?”

“No,my lady. But ifyou told me, I wouldknow who your brotheris and could arrange tosettle his debts veryeasily. Or even cancel

themaltogether.”The man was very

cool,thoughtClare,andeverything dependedupon him believing hercapable of killing him.Please God, she hadbeennotoriousenough.

“I was married toLord JustinRainsborough. Until Ikilledhim.”

Oldfield’s eyeswidened, and his face

paledverysatisfactorily.“You have heard of

me,Isee.”“Yes, my lady.

Everyone in Londonheard of that, uh,incident,Ibelieve.”

“ThenyouknowthatIamnotfondofbullies,Mr. Oldfield. And thathavingkilledonce, Iamquite capable of doingsoagain.”

Oldfield put his

hands out, palms up,and said plaintively:“But how am I bullyingyou, LadyRainsborough, I mean,Lady Whitton. Youaskedmehere.Icame.Ihave offered to releaseyour brother from hisdebts.Whatmore can Idoforyou?”

Clare moved inquickly and had thepistolagainsthistemple

beforeheknewit.“Youcantakemeto

where you are holdingMr. Andrew More,Esquire.”

Oldfield stared, andthen became very stillas he felt the pistolbarrelbrushhistemple.

“You are confusingme, my lady. I do notknowaMr.More.”

“Oh, I think youdo.Mr.Moreistomeetyou

in court tomorrow, andifhewinshis case, youand your partners mayvery well spend sometime in prison. And soyou had himkidnapped.”

“Even if that weretrue, my lady, which ofcourse, it is not, whathasthisAndrewMoretodo with you? Unless heisyourbrother?”

“I have no youngerbrother, Mr. Oldfield.And you have noAndrewMore.Mr.Moreis intheparkrightnowwith my sister-in-law.Your knaves grabbedthe wrong man. Theytook my husband, LordGiles Whitton, and youare going to leadme tohim.”

Oldfield seemed torealize that further

denial was foolish, forhe only said quietly:“And what if I refuse,LadyWhitton?”

“I will shoot youthroughthetemple.”

“But then you willnot see your husbandagain.”

“Oh, I believe I will.You see, then I willsummonMr.CarolusorMr. Phillips or Mr.Bennett. I am sure one

of youwill be willing totakemethere,especiallyif he sees whathappened to hispartners.”

Clare could feelhysterical laughterrising at the thought ofthe bodies piling up inher drawing room, butwilled it down. He mustbelieve shewas capableof this for her plan to

work.Apparently, he did.

“Allright,LadyWhitton.Ihaveno ideahow thismistakehappened,butIcan take you to yourhusband. He is beingheld in a rookery in St.Giles, however, not apleasant place for alady.”

“Don’t worry aboutmy sensibilities, Mr.Oldfield. I assure you, I

have become ratherhardened over the pasttwo years, due to myexperiences.” Clare tookadeepbreath. “Youaregoingtostandup,andIam going to hold mypistolclosebyyourside.We will walk down tothe street, where mybutler will havesummonedmychaise.”

“Yes,mylady.”They proceeded

down the stairs just asshe had said. “Is thechaiseoutside,Henley?"Clare asked when theyreachedthedoor.

“Yes, my lady. Letmegetyourpelisse.”

"No, thank you,Henley.Iaminratherahurry.”

Thebutlerwantedtoprotest, but it washardly his place. Thesun had disappeared

behind clouds, and ithad become a chillyafternoon.Buthe couldnot insist. He openedthe door and watchedhis mistress and hervisitor down the steps,and frowned as he sawthe man climb into thechaiseaheadofherandnot even reach back tohelp her in. He wouldhave to find out justwhere Lady Whitton

summoned this Mr.Oldfieldfrom.

****Clare sat facing

Oldfield, the pistolpointing straight at hisstomach.“Idonotclaimto be anything of amarksman,so Iwillnotthreaten to shoot youstraight through theheartshouldyoumove,”she said with an ironicsmile. “But I do not

believebeinggutshotisapleasantfate.”

“No, my lady, Iwould agree,” Oldfieldrespondeddryly.

They were silent fora while, and then hespokeagain.

“If I may ask, LadyWhitton, how did youfigure out why yourhusband haddisappeared?”

“Therewas no other

reason for him to havedisappeared. WhenAndrew Moreremembered he hadloaned Giles hisgreatcoattokeepofftherainandwhenaRunnerfound witnesses whohad seen Giles bundledintoacab,wedecidedithad been you and yourpartnerstryingtoinsurethe success of theircase.”

“But your husbandcould have justidentified himself, andhe would have beenreleased.”

“No doubt Gilesrealized whom youthought you had. He isvery chivalrous, myhusband, and a goodfriend of AndrewMore’s.”

“I see.” Oldfield wassitting there silently

cursinghishiredthugs.ItwasonethingtoholdAndrew More, Esquirefor a few days, quiteanother to hold theViscount Whitton. Hehoped they had treatedtheirprisonerdecently.

The chaise wasgoingslowlynowas thecoachman picked hiswaythroughthenarrowstreets of St. Giles.Oldfield had given him

theaddress,butseveraltimes the driver had tostop and ask directionsfromsomestreeturchinorbeggar.

“I haven’t been herein years myself,” saidOldfield, holding hishandkerchieftohisnosedistastefully.

“So these men donotknowyou?”

“Oh, we didn’t hirethemsightunseen,Lady

Whitton. One of ourblacklegs, Boniface,knows them andbrought them to 75 St.James Street forinstructions.”

“Andwhatwere theirinstructions?” askedClare, dreading theanswer.

“Only to hold Mr.Moreuntil the trialhadbegun and then release

himthatevening.”“So my husband

would have beenreleased by tomorrownight,then?”

“Yes,youseeallthiseffort is for no goodreason,LadyWhitton.”

“Idon’tthinkso,Mr.Oldfield,” Clareanswered thoughtfully.“Once you and yourpartners saw AndrewMore in court, youmay

well have decided todispose of yourmysterious prisoner.You were very good athidingyourassociationswith these men. Wehave had a Runnerwatching you for theselast few days, and hecould pick up nothingoutoftheordinary.”

“Of course not. Wewere very careful. Onlytwoofushaveevenmet

these men, LadyWhitton. You are verylucky that I happen tobeoneofthem.”Oldfieldpaused. “As for yourhusband,Iwillnotlietoyou: we may well haveorderedhimdisposedof,especially since wedidn’tknowwhohewas.And it might havehappened even withoutour orders, once themenfoundouttheyhad

thewrongman.”Clareshuddered.“So perhaps, Lord

Whitton should begratefulafterall thathewedamurderess.”

“Indeed, Mr.Oldfield, I think heshould!” Clare repliedboldly, hoping that herbrave words wouldconvince herself as wellas him that she wasable to go throughwith

this.The chaise finally

stoppedatthecornerofwhatlookedlikeanalleybut was actually anarrow street. Thecoachman came to thedoor and announcedthathecouldnotgetthechaiseanyfartherifthiswasindeedtheplace.

“You said numberthree?”Clareasked.

“Yes,LadyWhitton.”

“Robert, I am goingto remain in the chaisewith Mr. Oldfield. Youwill go to the door ofnumber three andinform—?” she glancedovertoOldfield.

“GeorgeandHenry.”“...ThatMr.Oldfield

is here to see themregardingtheirprisoner.Bringthemheretous.”

“Yes, my lady.”Robert knew that his

mistress had embarkedonsomethingdangerousbut important to LordWhitton’s release, andsoheovercamehisownfear and distaste, andsteppeddownthestreet.

ChapterThirty-two

Giles had stopped

eating after his seconddayinthecellar.Hehadtried, but the smellsfrom the building, thestreet, and his ownwaste had made itimpossible for him tokeepfooddown.Hehaddevelopedagreatthirst,however, and asked for

more water, but Toadonly laughed and said,“We don’t want yerchamber potoverflowing,dowe,gov,”and so he still receivedonlyapitcheraday.Hearranged his daysaroundwhathethoughtwere mealtimes, andmade drinking his cupof water as much of aritual as eating a fullmeal, forcing himself to

sitandsipslowlyratherthangulpitdownashehadthefirstday.

He kept to hisregimenofexercisealso,pacing to the rhythmofGreekandUrdupoetry.Occasionally,tokeepuphisspirits,hedeclaimedthe verses loudly anddramatically, trying toimagine himself in anamphitheater.

The evenings were

the worst of all, andafterhis“supper”ithadbeen dark already forhours. He would fallasleepandmenawakenin what he imaginedwas the middle of thenight.Hewouldlietherefor hours, or so itseemed, unable tosummon poetry oranythingelsetocomforthim.Hewould reassurehimself that this ordeal

was almost over. Hewasn’taprisonerofwar,after all, condemned toyearsofthis,norwashea criminal condemnedto a lifetime of moresubtle torture. Andrewwill bemade to pay forthis, he would say tohimself, trying forhumor.

They were not verypleasant, his midnightthoughts, and by the

fourth day, he was notable to confine them tothedeadofnight.Bythefourth day, he wasnearly out of his mindwithhunger,thirst,andthestench.Hewalkedalittleinthemorning,butwas too weak to get offhis pallet in theafternoon. He was lyingthere, drifting in andout of consciousnesswhen he felt someone

shakehisshoulder.“ ‘E’s not dead, is

‘e?”“Don’t be a fool,

George. Of course not.Getup,Mr.More.”

Giles sat up slowly.Sitting up made himdizzy and nauseous,and he sank his headinto his hands to keepthe room from spinningaroundhim.

“ ‘E don’t look well,

‘Enry.”“ ‘E don’t ‘ave to. ‘E

ain’t going to see thequeen,justOldfield.”

Giles felt himselfbeing dragged to hisfeet, and the suddenvertigo made himuncontrollablynauseous. There wasnothing inhis stomach,so all his retchingbroughtupwasbile.Hiscaptor let go, and Giles

fell to his knees on thedirtfloor.

“Get ‘im up,”grumbledTallMan.

ToadyankedGilestohis feet again, and thistime his head wasclearer.

He stumbled up thestairs, and when thedoor to the street wasopened, he was blindedbythelightandgroanedas he covered his eyes

with his hands. Hedidn’t see the chaise orrecognize his owncoachman.Hewas onlyconsciousthatToadwashanding him over tosomeone else, and ashiver of fear wentthrough him. Did theyknow who he was? No,theyhadcalledhimMr.More. Were they lettinghim go orwas this newcaptor going to dump

himintheriver?After they had

walked a few steps, hepretended to stumbleagain and pulled awayin the half second thatthe grip on his armrelaxed.He couldn’t seewell enough to domorethan a stumbling run,and in a minutesomeone was next tohim. “It is all right, mylord,” the someone said

ashe tried to get away.“Thechaiseisonlyafewyardsnow.”

“Mylord?”Thentheydid know who he was.Giles felt himself beingpushed into the chaise,and the last thing hethought before losingconsciousness was:“She isgoingtokillme,too,”ashesawClare,ora phantom that lookedlike Clare, pointing a

pistolinhisdirection.****

“You may get out,Mr.Oldfield,”saidClare,gesturing with thepistol. “I am sure youwillbeable to findyourway home somehow?”sheaddedsarcastically.

“Indeed, my lady.”Oldfield climbed downandlethisbreathoutina sigh of relief. Claremay have tried hard to

keep her hands steady,but he had seen thetrembling, which hadscared him even more,forheknewhoweasy itwas for a cocked pistoltogooff.

“Ye’re a day early,ain’tye,gov?”

“Andyou’refivedayswith the wrong man,you fools,” Oldfieldreplied. “That wasn’tAndrewMore. That was

Viscount Whitton.Andrew More will be incourt bright and earlytomorrow, and will nodoubt win his client’scase.”

****Clare had kept the

pistolpointedatOldfieldas he stepped out andeven as they drove off,just in case he and hishenchmen tried to rushher. When they finally

were out of sight, shelowered her arms anddropped the pistol onthe floor. Except, whenshe looked down, thepistol was still in herhands, which justwouldn’t, couldn’t open,they had been clenchedso tightso long.Andsoshe sat there with thepistolonherlap,gazingover at Giles, who wasslumped on the seat

oppositeher.He smelted soawful

that Clare had tobreathe out of hermouth. He had noobviousbruisesonhim,although she knewbetter thananyone thatdidn’t mean thereweren’t any. But shehoped his fainting spellwas from shock andlack of food or water,notfrominjury.

Whentheypulledupin front of the house,she had to wait forHenleytoopenthedoor,for her hands were stillwrapped around thepistol. She climbeddownawkwardly.

“Get the coachmanto help you,” she said.“Lord Whitton is stillunconscious.”

The door openedbefore shewas even up

the steps, and Andrewwas by her side in asecond.

“My God, Clare,where have you been?Wehavebeenoutofourminds with worry sinceMartha told us of yourvisitor. And your‘shopping trip,’ ” headded,glancingdownatthepistol.

“Ican’tseemtoletitgo, Andrew,” she said,

giving him an ironicsmile as he reacheddown and gentlyreleased the hammer.“But otherwise, I amfine. Help Henley withGiles.”

Sabrina, who hadbeen right behindAndrew, put her armsaround Clare and ledher into thehall,whereClare’s hands finallyrelaxed and the pistol

droppedtothefloorwitha clatter. Clare lookeddownatitandthenherhands,andfinallygivingin to the pent-upemotions of the day,shook uncontrollablyfrom head to foot. Herteethwerechatteringso,she could hardly givecoherent directions asGileswascarriedin.

“Take him upstairs,Henley, and strip those

clothes off before youputhimtobed.Sabrina,wewillneedthedoctor.”

“Yes, I will send forhimimmediately.”

Andrew watched asthey carried Gilesupstairs and then ledClare up to the librarywhereafirewasroaring.He sat her down in thewing chair next to thefireplace, and poured aglassofbrandy.

“Drink this, mydear.”

Her teeth wherechattering so hard thathe thought she wouldbite through the glass,but he managed to getsome down her throat.As the warmth of theliquor hit her stomach,her shivering slowlysubsided and somecolor returned to herface.

“Here, have a littlemore, Clare, and thenwe will find out whatyouhavebeenupto.”

“Don’t push her,Andrew,” said Sabrina,who had come in afterthem.

“No, I am all rightnow,” said Clare,starting to getup. “It isGiles I am worriedabout.”

“Sit down, my dear.

There is nothing youcan do right thisminute.”

Clare sank backdown. “I couldn’t waitany longer, Andrew. Iwas afraid once theyfound out they had thewrong man, they mightharmGiles.”

“I have been afraidof that, too, I mustconfess, but couldn’tthinkofanythingtodo.”

“There wasn’t muchyou could do, Andrew.To show yourself wouldhave endangered Giles.But I realized thatnoneofthemwouldrecognizemy name immediately,so I sent for Oldfield,telling him I wanted tosettle my youngerbrother’sdebts.”

“But you don’t havea younger brother,Clare,”saidSabrina.

“You and I knowthat, Sabrina, but hedidn’t. And it got himhere where I wantedhim. Then, when hefound out I was thenotorious LadyRainsborough, I had notroubleconvincinghimIwas willing to killagain.”

“MyGod,Clare,wereyou mad?” Andrewexclaimed.

“A little, I think,Andrew,” she admitted,lookingdownatherlap.Shestill couldnotopenherhandscompletely.“IkeptseeingJustin’sfaceflashing before me,threatening Giles ...”They were all still amoment. “I think thathelpedme convinceMr.Oldfield, however,” shesaidwithashakylaugh.

“Could you have

killed him, Clare?”Sabrina asked in a lowvoice.

“Idon’tknow,”Clareadmitted. “But I toldhim I would summonone after another ofthemuntil one tookmetomyhusband.”

“Where is Oldfieldnow,Clare?”

“Back in some filthyalley of St. Giles,” shesaid.“AndIhopehehas

towalkallthewaybacktoSt.JamesStreet.”

****When the doctor

arrived, Clare insistedon being present whenhe examinedGiles,whowasstillunconscious.

“Aside from beingdehydrated andexhausted, I believeLordWhittonisallright,my lady.”HegaveClarean inquiring look. “I

don’t suppose you cantellme just how a peerof therealmcametobein this condition, LadyWhitton?”

“He was in thehandsoftworuffiansforafewdays,Doctor.ButIwould rather not saywhy.”

“He has no bruisesor injuries, so I believehe will be conscious bymorning.”

“Then I will sit withhim,”saidClare.

“You are lookingverywornyourself,LadyWhitton, if I may sayso.”

“One more nightwith little sleep won’tmake any difference,now that Giles is safe,”said Clare with agrateful smile as sheshowed the doctor out,and thenpulleda chair

close to her husband’sbed.

Giles’shairwaslankand greasy, and therewas a faint trace of thesmells of the cellarhanging about him, forhis valet had onlystripped off his clothesand put him in a cleannightshirt. There weredark circles under hiseyes,andClareguessedthat he had lost half a

stone as she hadwatched the doctorexamine him. But hewassafeathome,thankGod. She looked downat her hands andmadeherself open and closethem repeatedly, untilshe was able tostraighten out herfingers. She glanced atGiles and then backdown at her hands.Whatever would Giles

think of her now? If hecould not allow himselftoseetheClarewhohadkilledherhusband,howon earth would he beable to tolerate a Clarewhohadbeenwilling tokillagain,even if ithadbeen for his sake?Especially since it hadbeenforhissake.

Claresatverystillastearsbegantoslipdown

hercheeks,releasingallthe tension of the pastfewdays.She could cryfor weeks, she thought,and never run dry, forhereshewas,soinlovewith a husband whocould only care for thegirl she had been, notthe woman she hadbecome. Her ownexhaustion caught upwith her, however, andshefinallyslept.

****Giles had been

dreaming.Inhisdream,Tall Man and SquatToadhadpulledhimupthestairs into the light,and in that light floatedClare’s face, set andgrim.“Doesheknowmeyet,” she asked hisjailers and they shooktheir heads. “Then takehim back to the cellar.”Giles openedhismouth

toprotest,butnowordswould come out. It wasclearhiscaptivitywouldneverenduntilhecouldtellhiswifehelovedherfor herself. And he hadlosthisvoice.

He awoke to thesemi-darkness of earlymorning. But the cellarwasn’tusually this lightwhen he woke, hethought. He was evenmore disoriented when

he became aware thathewas inacomfortablebed, his own bed, infact. He turned hishead,andbythelightofa guttering candle onthe bedside table, sawhis sleeping wife.Slowly, very slowly, tokeep the room fromspinning, he pulledhimselfupintoasittingposition.

Clarewasstillinher

walking dress, and ashe watched her, hebegan to remember.Clare had been therewhen they brought himup from the cellar. Butto bring him safelyhome, not to keep himher prisoner. He had avague memory of beingthrust into the chaiseand lookingup intoherset white face. But it

hadbeenafacesetwithfear and determination,not hostility. Somehow,his Clare had set outand rescued him. Thelady had accepted aquest and rescued herknight, not the otherwayaround.

Her hands had helda pistol, that much healso remembered. Shehad looked quitecapable of killing

someone. She wascapable of killingsomeone. She had killedsomeone,hisbravewife.To save herself fromcertain death, and himfromthepossibilityofit.

He lay back, headresting on the pillows,turned toward her,learningeverycurveandline of her, hiscourageouswife.Hehad

been so blind for solong. And afraid. Afraidifheadmittedtohimselfthat Clare Dysart hadhurt him terribly andthen gone on to ahorrendous marriagethatshecouldn’tbetheClarehelovedanymore.And since he did loveher, she had to be theoldClare.Forhowcouldhe love a woman who

had hurt him so,suffered so, and boughttheir present marriagewith such a bloodydeed.

ButhesawnowthathisClarewasthisClare.Circumstances and herown inner strength hadcombined to transformher. But not beyondrecognition. And pleaseGod, not beyond thepossibility of redeeming

theirmarriage.The door opened

slowly, and Giles liftedhis hand in greeting asSabrinatiptoedin.

“You are awake,Giles,” she whispered.She sat down on theedgeofthebedandputherhandonhis.“Ithasbeen a horrible fivedays. If I didn’t loveAndrew so much, Iwould have hated him

for getting you intothis.”

Giles shook hishead. “It wasn’t hisfault, Brina. I was justtoo stubborn to tellthemwhoIwas.”

“Thank God forthat,” she answered. “Isuspect your life wouldhavemeantverylittletothosemen.”

Sabrina had spokenaloud,andClarestarted

and opened her eyes.Herfacelitupwhenshesaw that Giles wasawake, then shut downas she rememberedwhatshehaddone.

“Giles,” she saidevenly, “I am glad youare awake.” She stoodup stiffly. “I will getHenley and have himbring you some barleywater.”

Giles made a face,

and Sabrina said: “It iswhatthedoctororderedforthefirstday.Sobearwithit,Giles.”

“Plain water. Plain,cold water,” herequested. “And someporridge,Clare?”

“Allright,Giles,”shesaidwithaquicksmile,andwasgone.

“Andsomehotwaterfor a bath as soon asyou get your strength

back,” teased Sabrina,wrinklinghernose.

Giles ran his handthrough his hair.“Maybeevenafine-toothcomb,” he said, andlaughed as Sabrinajumpedback.“NowIamteasing, Brina. Thereare no small residents,asfarasIknow.”

“Iwillorderlyesoap,justincase,Giles,”said

hissister.

ChapterThirty-three

A fewhours lateras

Gileslayinhisbath,hethought that he hadtaken far too much forgranted in his life.Water, gruel, and a hotbath ... simple things,really, but he’d takethem over any luxuryofferedhim.

Sabrinahadsentup

lyesoapandafine-toothcomb.Whichwaslucky,saidhisvalet,forhewassure he had seen alouse or two in hismaster’shair.

Giles only laughed.“Comb them out, then,John.”

He slept away therestofthedayandonlyawoke again in the lateafternoon when thedoctorcamebyagain.

“You are feelingbetter,mylord?”

“Much, thank you,Doctor.”

“And drinking a lotofwater?”

“Cool, clean water,which tastes likechampagnetome,”saidGileswithasmile.

“I amnot surprised.You were dehydratedwhen I saw you lastnight. You may start

eating solid foodtomorrow.”

Sabrina came inafter thedoctor leftanduttered a protest asGiles climbed out ofbed.

“I am not ill,Sabrina.”

“No, and we wishyounottobe.”

“Hand me mydressinggown,Brina.”

Sabrina helped him

slip his arms into theburgundy silk and gavehim her arm as hewalked slowly back andforth around the room.He was mutteringsomething under hisbreath.

“I beg your pardon,Giles?”

He lookeddownandsmiled at her and saidsomething rhythmicallyin Greek. “Now you, I

suppose, would havebeen repeatingmathematical formulas,but I kept sane withAristophanes.”

“Oh, Giles,” hissister cried, and threwherselfintohisarms.

“No, now, Brina, Iwas not made a galleyslave. Five days in acellarisn’treallyallthatbad.”

“They might have

killedyou.”“Sotheymighthave.

Buttheydidn’t.Thanks,Ibelieve,tomywife?”

Sabrina pulledherselfoutofhisarms.

“Clare wasmagnificent,Giles.”

“So I guessed. Andwhere is she? Shehasn’tbeenintoseemesincemorning.”

“She has beensleeping, too, Giles. To

make up for the lastfournights.”

Giles let go of hissister’s arms andwalked slowly over tothewingchair.

“I am still a bitshaky, or I would go intoher.Willyouhavehercome in when sheawakes,Sabrina?”

“Ofcourse.”“Now tell me the

wholestory.”

Sabrina perched onthe bed and told himwhatsheknew.

“I will have to getClaretofillmeinonthedetails,” Giles said withasmile.

“Indeed. You have avaliantwife,Giles,” saidSabrina as she wasleaving.

“I know that,” hesaidsoftlyassheclosedthedoorbehindher.

****Clare approached

Giles’s bedroomapprehensively. Shefound him in hisdressinggown,seatedinthe wing chair with abook in his hands. Hishead was back and hiseyes were closed, andfor a moment shethought he was asleep.But as she walkedslowly toward him, he

opened his eyes andsmiled directly intohers, which made herlegs feel as shaky astheyhadyesterday.

“Itismylionesswifecometovisit,”hesaidinan affectionate, teasingvoice.

Clare blushed.“Hardlyalioness,Giles,”she replied. “I ampleasedtoseeyouup.”

“Yes, I am feeling

much more myself.Except formy eyes,” headded. “They are moretired than I am now. Isuppose itwas the lackoflightinthecellar.”

Clare shuddered. “Itmust have been awful,Giles.”

“Well, it was,” headmitted. “But notunbearable.”

“Whydidyounottellthemwhoyouwere?”

“And ruin Andrew’scase? Four or five daysinthatholeseemedlikeit would be easy.” Gilespaused and gave her acrookedgrin.“Atfirst.”

“Wewerefrantic.”“Iknow.But I think

I made the rightdecision,” he continuedin amore serious tone.“Isuspectitwouldhavebeen very inconvenientforTallManandToadto

haveaviscountontheirhands.”

Clare nodded.“Andrew didn’t seem tothink you were indanger, but they couldhave killed you anddropped the bodyanywhere.ThatiswhyIdid what I did, Giles,”said Clare in a tightvoice. She was stillstanding, and Gilesmotionedhertothebed.

“Come, sit down,and tell me your story,Clare.”

Clare sat on theedgeofthebedandkepther eyeson the floorasshebegan.

“Iwassoafraidthatonce they saw Andrewin court and knew theyhad been tricked, theywould get rid of you tosave themselves.Andrew couldn’t go to

them,ofcourse.”“So you went to 75

St.JamesStreet?”“Well,no.Actually, I

summoned Mr. OldfieldhereonthepretextthatI wanted to settle ayoungerbrother’sdebts.He had never heard ofLord or Lady Whitton,yousee.”

“And once he washere, you told himwhat?”

“Iheldapistoltohishead. And he knew Iwas capable of using itbecause ...” Clarepaused.

“Why, Clare?” Gilesaskedsoftly.

“I told him I hadbeenthenotoriousLadyRainsboroughbeforemymarriage, and if hedidn’t leadme to you, Iwas quite happy toshoothimandsummon

one of his partners.”Clare looked up andgave a shaky laugh. “IsaidIwouldhappilypilethe bodies up until oneof them broke. Hebelievedme.”

“I should think hewould.”

“Once I hadconvinced him, it wasnot difficult. The chaisewas at the door, and Ikept the pistol pointed

athimthewholetime.”“Yes, I remember

seeing it in your handsasIwaspushedinside.”

Clarelookeddownather hands. “I trulycouldn’t think of anyotherway,Giles.Ihatedhaving a pistol in myhands again. But Iwould have killedOldfield and the others,too, to get you back,”sheaddeddefiantly.

“Ibelieveyou,Clare.And thank God he did,too.”

Gilesgotupandsatdown beside her on thebed.He tookherhandsin his. “You have smallhands, Clare, but I amgrateful that you heldmylifeinthem,fortheyare stronger than theylook.Asyouare.”

“They were shakingso I had to clutch the

pistol with both ofthem,” she murmured.“AndIwasholdingontoit so tightly that Icouldn’t let it go.... Oh,Giles,Iwish...”

“You wish what, mydear?”

“I wish I were ...”Clarepausedandtookadeep breath. “No, Idon’t. I don’t wish Icould be the Clare youfell in love with. I just

wishyoucouldlovewhoIamnow.”

Giles wanted tocatchherupinhisarmsand prove both his loveand passion physically,buthe forcedhimself tosit very still. “I havethought a lot aboutwhat you said to me,Clare. Indeed, I havehadnothingbuttimetothink these past fewdays. And maybe the

darkness of thathellhole made somethingsclearer.Youwereright.Ihavenotwantedtofacethetruthofwhatliesbetweenus.”

“And what is that,Giles?” she askedquietly.

“My anger, for onething. I was furious,Clare. And I couldn’tallow myself to be. I

thought it would makethingsmore difficult foryou and for all of us,andso I ignored it.As Iignoredmyheartbreak.”Gilesletgoofherhandsand said lightly: “Myheart did break, youknow. But I blithelyignored that and wenton being your selflessfriend Giles. You hurtme so verymuch when

you choseRainsborough,Clare.”

“I knew I musthave,”shewhispered.

“I am ashamed toconfess that a part ofmewasalmostgladthatyou eventually sufferedfrom that decision, too.When you lost yourbaby—Ididn’t know thereasonthen,ofcourse—Ithoughttomyself:hadshe married me, this

wouldn’t havehappened. And in thecourtroom, when youtold your story, therewasagainthatdarksideof me that smiled tohimself and thought:“Maybe she deservedthis,forbeingsofoolishas to let her passionblindher.”Gilesputhishead in his hands andgroaned.“Oh,God,Iamso ashamed to admit

this.Andwhenwemadelove,donotthinkitwasall you, Clare.SometimesIwouldhearthat dark voice saying:‘You didn’t really wishfor a passionateresponse,didyou?Lookwhat it ledto lasttime.’”

Even though sheknew Giles needed tosaythesethings,ithurttohearthem,andClare

couldnotstopthetearsor check her sobs. Oh,please, Giles, please,she thought, do notleave me alone in thisnow. If he couldn’tsomehow love herdespite all this, sheknew they would staycold and separate therest of their marriedlives. She sat crying forwhat seemed a longtime, but it was only a

minute or so beforeGiles, so afraid oftouching her, touchedheranyway.

He put his armaround her shouldersand pulled her close tohim.

“I didn’t want tohurt you, Clare. Ormaybe I did,” hewondered aloud. “Butwehadtohavethetruthbetweenusatlast.”Her

shoulders finallystopped shaking, andGiles let her go. Herblond curls were alltousled, her eyesswollenandred,butshehad never looked sobeautiful to him. Heleaned over and gentlylicked the tears off hercheeks, his tonguereachingintothecornerof her mouth, wherethey had gathered. As

he started to kiss her,he felt her shiver andpulled backimmediately.

“If you don’t wantme, Clare, Iunderstand.” Sheansweredbypullinghimdown to her again andopening her mouth tohis.

Their kiss was longand deep, and Clarewanted it to go on

forever. She moanedwith disappointmentwhen Giles finallyreleasedher.

He looked down ather and said tenderlyand humorously: “I amnot sure what I canpromise you tonight,Clare, for I am still alittle tired from myordeal.But Iwould likeit ifyoustayedwithmetonight.”

As an answer,Claremerely busied herhands with the belt ofhis dressing gown, andGiles laughed softly.After she released theknot, he turned heraroundsothathecouldopenherdress.

They both stood upat the same time, sothat their clothes fellfrom them, and Gilescaughthertohim.

“I think you haverecovered, Giles,” saidClare with a low laughasshefelthismanhoodpressing against herthigh.

“We shall see justhow much endurance Ihave,though,”heteasedas he pulled her downonthebed.

The beginnings oftheir lovemaking hadalways been good, and

this was no exception.But at first, both ofthem were wonderingwhat would happen attheend.Soon,however,they were lost insensation:Claremeltingaway as Giles lazilycircled her breast withhis tongue, and Giles,realizing that histiredness had certainbenefits, for he was inno rush to experience

his own release, butcontenttomoveslowly.

Theywere lyingsideby side, and Giles waslanguorously runninghis fingersupher thighand slowly seeking outher center of pleasure.Clare was lying still,wondering if she wouldexperience the sameblockasbefore.And foronemoment of fear shedid.SheknewGiles felt

herstiffenashisfingersfound her and startedtheir slow, gentlecaressing. It was asthough a wall droppedbetweenthem.

And then somethingin Clare, life, love,whateveritwasthathadenabled her to say “no”toJustinatlast,roseupfrom the depths of herbeing. She was onlyconsciousthathervoice

was saying: “Yes, yes.”Perhaps I needed tolearn“no”beforeIcouldsaya“yes,”shethoughtwonderingly as Gilesmovedontopofherandentered her. Hismovementswereat firstas excruciatingly andpleasurably slow asbefore,butassheclosedherlegsaroundhimanddrew him in deeper, allhislanguorfellaway,as

did her hesitation, andthey let their passiondrive them to ashattering climax.Clare’secstasyhadbeenalmost silent, but Gilessobbed out his wife’sname as he found hisrelease. When he liftedhimself off her, shetouched his wet cheekashesmoothedherhairbackfromherface.

“I never dreamed ...

but,no,Ihavedreamedfor years,” Gileswhispered. “But it wasneverlikethis.”

“Iamnotsurewhereyou begin and I end,Giles. I think I felt yourpleasure more than myown.Yet thatmightnotbe possible,” shewhisperedshyly.

Gilesgatheredherinhis arms, and they fellasleep inmoments, like

children.

ChapterThirty-four

The entire

household was, ofcourse, aware that Lordand Lady Whitton hadshared a bed the nightbefore, and therewas apleasant energypermeating the housewhen Andrew Morearrived the nextmorning.

“Is Lady Sabrinaavailable, Henley? AndhowisLordWhitton?”

“Lady Sabrina is inthebreakfastroom.AndLord Whitton isrecovering well, I wouldsay,” announcedHenley, seeming verypleasedwithhimself,asthough he werepersonally responsiblefor Giles’s recovery,thought Andrew as he

walkedupstairs.Sabrina jumped up

assoonasshesawhimat the door. “Andrew! Ithoughtyouwouldhavebeen here yesterdayevening. Whateverhappenedincourt?”

“Sit down my ladyjack-in-the-box,” teasedAndrew, “and I will tellyou.”Hewalkedover tothe sideboard andstarted filling his plate.

“I am ravenous,” hedeclared as he spoonedeggs and kippers andsausage.

“Andrew!”“Messrs. Oldfield et

al. each received twoyears’ hard labor. Andyoung Mr. Granthamgot hismoney back.Hewill continue at InnerTemple, and, no doubt,makeafinesolicitor.”

Sabrina jumped up

again and threw herarmsaroundAndrew.

“It is very lucky formy waistcoat that Iknow your fits andstarts,Sabrina,”hesaidaffectionately, holdinghis plate high as shehuggedhimfiercely.

“Oh, damn yourbreakfast,Andrew.”

Andrew sighed, putthe plate on thesideboard, and kissed

Sabrinasoundly.“Now, that is quite

enough,”he saidas thekiss began to arousehim. “Henley will throwme out of here if I amnotcareful.”

Sabrina releasedhimreluctantly.“Oh,goback to your sausagesand eggs,Andrew. I amsureIdon’tcare.”

Andrewgaveheronemore kiss for good

measurebeforerescuinghis plate and sittingdownnexttoher.

“How is Giles thismorning?”

“Since it is all overthehouseholdthatLordandLadyWhittonspentthe night together, Iassume he is quiterecovered.”

“Clare sat by himthe night before, didn’tshe?”

“Sittingupinachairwhile he slept. I do notthink she spent lastnight in thewing chair,Andrew.”

“Youare incorrigibleand shameless,Sabrina.” Andrewlaughed. “But Iamveryglad to see you back toyouroldself.”

“And I am very gladto have those villainsout of commission. Do

you intend to chargethem with kidnappingalso?”

“I think I will leavethatuptoGiles.”

“Whatwill you leaveuptome,Andrew,”saida voice from thedoorway.

“Giles!Shouldn’tyoube in bed?” exclaimedSabrina.

“Excusemydressinggown, Andrew, Sabrina.

Andno,Sabrina, Ihavespent enough hourslying around this pastweek. I don’t think Icould stand beingconfined to mybedchamber.” Gilesspoke lightly, butAndrew could tell thathewasquiteserious.

“I am sorry that youhad to go through allthis, Giles. I, we all felt

sohelpless.”“Except for my

valiantwife!”“Dear God, when I

thinkofhowshegotusoutof thehousesoshecouldconfrontOldfield,”exclaimedAndrew.

“Do you know howsheconvincedhim?Sheheldapistoltohisheadand revealed herself asthe infamous LadyRainsborough.Whenhe

asked her what shewoulddoifherefusedtolead her to me, shecalmly declared shewould kill him andsummon one of hispartners!”

“Imagine ClareDysart bullying such aman.”

“NotClareDysartorClareRainsboroughanylonger, Andrew,” saidGiles seriously. “Clare

Whitton. At long last.”Giles sat down next tohis sister and lookedoverathis friend.“Iamravenous, Andrew.Would you fill me aplate?”

“My dear Giles, foryour chivalrousfoolishness, for which Iwillbeforevergrateful,Iwould come over andserve you breakfasteveryday for therestof

mylife.”“Where is Clare,

Giles?” Sabrina askedquietly.

“Upstairs. Stillsleeping. I think thistookasmuchoutofherasitdidme.”

“Out of all of us,Giles.”

Giles patted herhand.

“Iknewyouwerenotdead,” added his sister.

“But I could still feelthatyouweresuffering.”

“It was not too bad,the first day or two. Itwas only toward theend.Lord,thatstench!Idon’t know if Iwill evergetitoutofmynostrils.But it is over. Or is it,Andrew? How did thetrialgo?”

“I won, Giles, andthose villains will belocked away for two

years. Unless you wantto prosecute themfurther? We could getthem for kidnapping,you know, with Clare’stestimony.”

“Absolutely not,”said Giles quietly butfirmly. “I would neversubject her to thatagain.Buttheyneednotknow that, of course.You might try and getword to them that they

have that hanging overtheir heads, lest theyaretemptedtosendTallMan and Toad forrevenge.”

“Tall Man andToad?”askedSabrina.

“My name for myjailers,Brina.”

“All right, Giles, wewillleaveitfornow.”

****Clare slept until

mid-morning, when the

sunpouringthroughthewindow onto her pillowwoke her. She turnedsleepily toGiles,only todiscover he wasn’t nextto her. She lay there,lonely and desolate,wondering whether lastnightwasonlyadream.Or an isolatedoccurrence. Perhaps itwas only that Giles’sguard had been down.Perhapsthismorninghe

would be seeing thingsdifferently.

She was emptybeyond tears as she laythere, imagining theworst.She couldnot goback to their marriageas it had been. Shecould not. There was asoft knock at the door,andMarthacamein.

“IhopeIdidn’twakeyou,mylady.”

“No, Martha. The

sun woke me.” Clarestarted to sit up andthen blushed,remembering that shewas naked under thesheets. She was alsostiff and sticky fromlovemaking.

“Iwouldloveabath,Martha.Couldyouhavethe hot water broughtup? And some freshtowels.”

“Ofcourse,my lady.

Do you want somechocolate?”

“Later, thank you,Martha. And LordWhitton? Is he up andaboutthismorning?”

“Yes, my lady. HejoinedLadySabrinaandMr.Moreforbreakfastafewhoursagoand is inthe library now, Ibelieve.”

Clare’s heart sank.Gileswas clearly onhis

waytorecoveryandhadleft her there to wakealone. She closed hereyes and dozed whilethe maids filled herbath, and dismissedthem and Martha assoon as the water wasready.

It felt good to slipdown into the scentedwater.Shecouldfeelallher protesting musclesrelax, and she rested

her head against thebath and closed hereyes.

She dozed off againfor a few minutes, butwakened when sheheard the door openquietly.Withoutopeningher eyes, shemurmured: “Do youhave more hot water,Martha? The bath iscoolingdown.”

Therewasamurmur

of assent, and Claresank down farther asthe hot water slid overher shoulders andbreasts.

“Let me relax youmore, Clare,” said adeep voice, and Clare’seyesflewopenasGiles’shands began to kneadher neck and shouldermuscles. She pushedherself up, but Gilesheldhertheregently.

“Ithoughtyoumightsleep the day away,” hesaid.

“Isthatwhyyouleftme?”Clareblurtedout.

“I was afraid if Istayed,Iwouldnothavebeenabletokeepmyselffrom awakening you,”hereplied.

“Oh,” whisperedClare.

“Did you miss me,Clare?”

She nodded andthentookadeepbreathas his hands, nowlathered, began to soapher back, and then herbreastsandbelly.Whenhe reachedbetweenherlegs, she protested.“Giles, it is broaddaylight.AndIaminmybath!”

“Anddelightfullywetandpink,mydear.Andslippery,” he added as

hisfingerspartedher.“Ican feel your ownwetness, even with allthiswater.”

And so could Clare.At that moment, shewouldhavepulledGilesin,hadtherebeenroom.

“Haveyoueverbeento Bath, Giles?" shemurmured.

“Clare!” exclaimedGiles in amock-injuredtone. “At such a

moment you are onlyinterested in mytravels?”

Clare caught hiswristandturnedtofacehim. “I was onlythinking, Giles, that wehad something to learnfromtheRomansifwe’donly paid attention. Atleasttherewasroomformore than one in theirbaths.”

Gileschuckled.“You

are a little sensualist,Clare.”

“I am sorry,” shesaid,embarrassed.

“Sorry? I amdelighted.IfIcouldonlycoax you out of yourbath, I can assure youthere is room on thebed,wife.”

Clare stood up, andGiles held her hand asshe stepped out. Hereachedout toholdone

shimmering breast inhis hand. “You are likeVenus, rising from thesea,”hewhispered.“No,don’tputatowelaroundyou,” he said as shestarted to cover herselfup.Hestoodandlethisdressinggownfallopen.

“I think you need abath,too,”shesaidwithaglintinhereye.

“Perhaps I do, I canstill smell that stench

hangingaroundme.”He stepped in and

loweredhimself intothewarmwater.Clarekneltbeside the tub and ranher hand around thewater, searching for thebar of soap Giles haddropped.

“Hereitis,”shesaid.“Oh,noitisnot.”“But it is hard and

slippery, like soap, andkeepsslippingoutofmy

fingers,”sheteased.Giles groaned. “Oh,

God, Clare, stop. I amnotastiredasIwaslastnight.”

“Then you are cleanenough,” she laughed,pulling at his hand.“Now we are both wetandslippery.”

“Are you sure aBritish bath won’t holdtwo, Clare?” he asked,pulling her in on top of

him.“Giles! The water is

splashing all over thefloor!”

“It is good, cleanwater,Clare.And itwilldry.”

Clare gave in to thedelightful sensation asGiles’smanhoodslippedand slid between herlegs and against herbelly. It was somethinglike bobbing for apples,

she thought, as shewould try to positionherself overhimandhewouldslipaway.

“You are torturingme,woman.”

Finally, Clarereached down andplaced Giles just whereshe needed him to beand lowered herselfgentlyontohim.Heslidin,andshefithimlikeaglove.Foramomentshe

sat still, enjoying thefeelingofhimfillingandstretching her. Then heplacedhishandsonherhips and moved hergently.

Her mouth openedinto a sweet “Oh,” andhe pulled her downfarther and thrust histongue in as she liftedherselfupanddownonhim.

“Yes,Clare,yes.Itis

your turn to ride,” hemurmured when thekisswasdone.

Giles didn’t noticethehardness of the tubagainst his back, norClare the splashing ofthewateroverthesidesastheyrockedtogether.JustasGileswasabouttoclimax,heslippedhishand between herthighs and lifting herjust a little, filled her,

andcaressedherat thesame time, so that theycametogether.

She sank down onhim, gasping andsobbing into hisshoulder while hestrokedherhair.

After a moment hewhispered into her ear:“Clare,Imustgetup,orI will turn into acorkscrew.”

She nodded against

his shoulder but didn’tmove.

“Clare, really, I amcrampingup.”

“Where, Giles?” sheasked,movingherhanddown. He caught herwrist. “Oh, no, you arenotgoingtostartagain.”

“I find the tub aperfect fit, Giles,” sheteased.

“That is fine for youto say, my little pocket

Venus.Iamagoodfoottaller thanyou,andmyleg is cramping, really,Claire.”

She climbed out ashe stood up with agrimaceonhisface.

“It is not funny,woman,” he protested,hearinghergiggleashetriedtoflexhistoes.

Clare pickedup oneof the towels andwrapped it around her.

“Here,Giles,youwillgetchilled,” she said, andhandedonetohim.

Giles wrapped itaround his waist, andwalked up and down afew paces to work thecrampoutofhisleg.

Most of the waterwasoutofthebathandon the floor, and Clarestarted mopping it upwiththelasttowel.

“Leave it for the

maids, Clare,” saidGiles, smiling down ather.

“Oh,Giles,whateverwilltheythinkofus?”

“TheywillthinkthatLord and Lady Whittonhavea truemarriageatlast,” declared Giles,pulling his wife up andover to the bed. Theywere still partly wetwhen they crawledunder the covers, and

Giles pulled his wife tohim.

“Despiteallthathashappened,weareatlasttrulymarried.”

“Perhapsitisbecauseof all that happened,Giles,” Clare replied,cuddlingagainsthim.

They lay back tofront, and Giles’s chinrestedon the topofherheadandhisarmswere

around her waist. Theyfell asleep thatwayandnever heard Martha’sknock or saw her grinas she took in thepuddled floor, beforeclosing the door behindher, leaving them totheir next sweetawakening.

Formydaughter,CaledoniaKearns,

“mygirlthatI’mproudof”

AcknowledgmentsMany thanks to my

agent, Ruth Cohen, forher efforts on behalf ofthis book, and hermoralsupport.Iamalsograteful to Hilary Ross,myeditor,forlettingmetakethissubjecton.

Lenore Walker’sworkonbatteredwomenwho kill was a greatresource.

Susan Amussengave me historicalperspective on domesticviolence.

MaryJoPutneygaveme generous supportandhelp in therevisionofthemanuscript.

In The Fatal effects ofGambling exemplified in theMurderofMr.WeareandtheTrial and Fate of JohnThurtell I found the

historicalincidentofthesuit against Oldfield etal.

And to all batteredwomen, I salute yourcourage.Apercentageofthe royalties from thisbook will be donated totheJaneDoeFund.

Copyright © 1995 by MarjorieFarrellOriginally published by Topaz(ISBN0451404920)Electronicallypublishedin2014byBelgraveHouse/RegencyReadsALLRIGHTSRESERVEDNoportionof thisbookmaybereprintedinwholeorinpart,by printing, faxing, E-mail,copyingelectronicallyorbyany

othermeanswithoutpermissionofthepublisher.Formoreinformation, contact BelgraveHouse, 190 Belgrave Avenue,SanFrancisco,CA94117-4228http://www.RegencyReads.com Electronic sales:ebooks@regencyreads.comThis is a work of fiction. Allnamesinthispublicationarefictitious and any resemblancetoanypersonlivingordeadiscoincidental.