Saying nothing to discredit the idea, Lord Adrian tossed out easily, "Cousin Percy, won't you see to the entertainment of my guests? Excuse us." He guided Cavilon through the door. Seeing Dougherty move to follow them, he shoved the comte none too gently through the first door he came to and motioned him to be quiet.

"We won't be alone long if I know that man."

"What is this about?"

"Juliane is gone. Mallatt should be getting to your room soon." He looked into the corridor. "Follow

me."

They hurried down long hallways, pausing at the door to the comte's room.

"That was the most unusual tour of your house I have ever had, Adrian. You should treat more of your

guests to it," said Cavilon, brushing dust from his sleeves.

Lord Adrian grimaced at him. "Here is Mallatt-let's go in."

The door shut behind the three, Cavilon looked to Adrian and Lord Adrian looked to Mallatt.

"Lady Juliane took Belle out early this morning. She had a small valise with her and her cloak as well.

The groom said she intimated she would be back in a short time but there has been no sign of her."

"Do you suppose she..." Cavilon began. "But what to do about Dougherty? He seems to be set upon speaking with her."

"I know. That would involve telling him far more than I desire to. Something I refuse to do, in fact. It is my fault that she is in this position," Lord Adrian swore.

"My lord, if I may make a suggestion," offered Mallatt. "I and a handful of men can look for Lady Juliane this afternoon while you keep Mr. Dougherty occupied. I believe he has asked to speak with Lady Tretain.

Her ladyship, your mother, my lord, is indeed Lady Tretain. She could give Mr. Dougherty a most interesting time of it-enough time to allow you and the comte to get away and find Lady Juliane if we are not successful."

Cavilon nodded. "If we fail, you can always explain matters to him."

"I can explain matters?" quizzed Lord Adrian with a c.o.c.ked eyebrow. * * * *

Endless as the yards of tulle making up the ruching on Lady Cecile's gown was the day. The rays of the setting sun streaming through the salon windows caught Lord Adrian's attention.

In France he had spent many such lingering days but, having never been quite so personally involved before, Lord Adrian found the pleasantries and inanimate activities of this day a sore trial. By dint of heavy restraint he displayed only a slight sarcasm and this was laid to his changeable temperament.

"We must dress if we are to dine on time," Lord Adrian threw out. "We keep country hours here, Mr. Dougherty. I do hope it isn't too bothersome."

"Of course not, Lord Tretain. I do hope I'll have the pleasure of Lady Tretain's company at dinner."

"Till later." Adrian escaped with a sigh. The man had become like a leech. The fact that Louis had not yet returned worried him greatly.

A short white later Cavilon strolled into the earl's bedchamber shaking his head. "There is no sign of Lady Juliane. We did learn she had stopped at a cottage or two early in the day asking if anyone had seen the children. Then nothing."

His brow furrowed with concern, Lord Adrian paced.

"They are still searching," his friend tried to console him. "She may return on her own."

Shaking his head, Lord Adrian frowned. "The nights are still severe. She has only a cloak. What if she takes a deathly chill?"

"Come, Adrian. If you will forgive me, Lady Juliane is as healthy as le cheval de proverbe and of quick intellect."

"Which she is not using!" "We had better dress for dinner. Have you attended to Dougherty's interview?" asked Cavilon with a smile.

"No. I had best hurry to Mother's apartments. What explanation I will give for asking her to do this is

beyond me."

"Ah, Adrian. You are doing it 'too brown' as you Englishmen are fond of saying. I have yet to see a tale beyond your means.

"True, yours are sometimes a bit fantastique but they are manageable, nevertheless," the comtelaughed. "But never so close to my heart," said Adrian grimly.

Michael Dougherty sensed something was very out of sorts at Trees. His reception had been usual enough and his treatment, to be truthful, was far more pleasant than he had received in some of the

gentry's homes he had visited on occasions of business.

Lord Adrian was just a bit on edge, it seemed to him, but he liked the man. There was an air on the part of some of the servants that bespoke unease, especially in his presence, as if there had been an

occurrence of which he must not learn. It was odd that he had neither seen nor heard any sign of the two children. On such a lovely day he would have expected their nurse to arrange an outing.

"Mr. Dougherty," coughed Holdt. "Lady Tretain will see you now. Follow me." He led the runner up the

stairs and through corridors, finally halting before an imposing set of doors.

"Her ladyship awaits," the butler said opening the doors for the runner.

Dougherty pa.s.sed through and Holdt pulled them shut.

The candlelight in the room was soft and dim. Mr. Dougherty scanned the room with a keen eye. He

would not have thought that Lady Tretain had been at Trees long enough to add such a personal mark to the decorations. She apparently had in this sitting room.

And where was her ladyship? Walking to the centre of the room, he cleared his throat loudly.

"Mr. Dougherty?" came the question from behind a large screen to one side.

"It is, m'lady."

"Please be seated by the fire. I will be with you shortly."

The runner seated himself, thinking how different voices generally are from what one expects.

A half hour later, Mr. Dougherty cleared his throat again-loudly.

"Just a few more moments, my good man. I have not been well today."

Twenty minutes later, his patience expended, the runner rose.

At this there was movement behind the screen. "You young people," complained Lady Tretain, coming grandly into view, "are always rushing."

Dougherty stood, mouth agape. Then he regained his composure. "I am sorry, but I believed I was

brought to see Lady Tretain."

"And so you were. No one has ever asked to see my marriage lines all these years past, but I can produce them, I a.s.sure you."

"I did not mean-I apologize, m'lady. It..."

"I can understand your confusion." She waved a hand elegantly at him, then stood silent.

"May I ask..."

"Why that is what I understood you wished-to ask questions. It would seem senseless for you to

disturb me and then not ask them, would it not?" she asked, enjoying herself thoroughly.

"It is my understanding ... Lord Tretain has a wife," stuttered the runner. He tried to remain calm.

"Of course he did," Lady Tretain said, cutting in before he could complete his question. "How do you

suppose we came by the present heir?" she asked exasperatedly.

"That is who I am speaking of-Lord Adrian Tarrant-and his wife-Lady Juliane."

"Well, for heaven's sake why don't you make yourself clear?"

Dougherty stared at her, waiting for more. When no further information came, he asked, "Am I not to be

allowed to see her then?"

"No one is preventing you, but then, I am not certain where she has gone."

"Lady Juliane is not at Trees?" the runner asked, all his suspicions aroused.

"No, nothing of the sort. It is just that she flits about so-to the nursery, to the salon, to her room."

"She is very nervous then?" asked the runner with satisfaction.

"No, the calmest woman I have ever met.

"Mr. Dougherty, could I not interest you in a small gla.s.s of ... refreshment?" asked Lady Tretain,

deeming the timing appropriate.

Dougherty scratched his head. "Not my usual habit, you understand, m'lady. But a spot wouldn't hurt just now."

"I am certain it would not. Let us be seated.

"Satter," the dowager countess called. "Gla.s.ses for the gentleman and myself."

gla.s.ses did a merry dance upon the tray as she nervously approached them.

Dougherty noticed this and thought it odd but, as her ladyship made no comment, he dismissed it.

Lady Tretain removed the stopper from the decanter and poured the two gla.s.ses full. Indicating for the