He let out a surprised grunt and looked her in the eye, only inches away.

"I told you I love you." Her gaze fell to his mouth. "When I decide to do something, I do it."

He pulled in his lips, and then they parted, moist and inviting.

Lillian drifted closer, and he met her halfway, his lips on hers, warm and gently insistent, his arms wrapping around her, nothing weak about his embrace at all. And she kissed him back, opening every cavern of her heart for him to explore, to own, to love.

"My darling." He kissed her cheek, her nose, her other cheek. "My brave, brave girl."

"Brave?" Her smile melted all over her heated face. "We're not facing drug rings or U-boats right now."

He gave her a playful smirk. "Isn't love the greatest danger of all?"

Two hearts, open and weak and vulnerable before each other. Oh yes, it was dangerous.

"And the greatest joy." Lillian threw herself headlong into another kiss.

27.

Stonington, Connecticut

Sat.u.r.day, April 25, 1942

"Ready for sailing, I see." Arch admired Lillian as she entered the sitting room, fresh and appealing in a blue-and-white striped dress, a red sweater, and her hair tied back in a red ribbon. "Now I can say good morning."

Lillian set her bag and hat on a sofa and took Arch's hands, her face glowing. "You said good morning when I came down for breakfast."

"Not properly." He tugged her hands to draw her nearer and kissed her well.

"Mm." She leaned against his chest and beamed up at him. "I wouldn't mind that every morning." Then her cheeks colored. "I didn't mean-I meant-"

"I know what you meant." He kissed her again. "I wouldn't mind either."

Everything about her was refreshing. He loved the way she'd mixed up her words and yanked him down to the bench to kiss him. Not coy and artful like the other women he'd dated.

With a contented sigh, she wrapped her arms around his middle and rested her cheek on his shoulder, and Arch nuzzled kisses onto her forehead. He'd seen no regrets on her face today, only pure, open love, and his chest felt full.

"An entire day with you," she said.

"And Jim and Mary." He pulled away at the sound of their voices in the hall, but he kept hold of Lillian's hand, so small and light in his.

"I'm ready." Mary grinned, swinging her bag. "I can't wait to go sailing again."

Jim glanced at Arch and Lillian's entwined hands with the same tight-lipped smile he'd displayed when the new couple had finally returned to the ballroom last night, Lillian wearing the high color and bright eyes of a woman who'd been kissed long and often.

At least Jim smiled and didn't glower. It was a start.

"Shall we go?" Arch gestured to the door.

Jim and Mary led the way across the patio and down the path to the pier, but Arch lagged behind with Lillian.

"It's a lovely day." Lillian smiled up to the clear blue sky. "I know you don't like this place, but it's beautiful."

"I do like this place. Too much."

She strolled along, her shoulder brushing Arch's. "You always say you hate this way of life, but you seem happy here, and your parents are wonderful, not sn.o.bby at all."

Arch glanced to his left, across the tennis court to the stables, and his shoulders tightened. "They're good people. They're untouched by all this."

"So why-"

"I was touched." His voice came out sharper than intended.

"I thought you were a sn.o.b when we first met." She gave him a sly sidelong glance. "But you aren't. You're just refined."

He had to distract her from this topic, and he knew how to do so. "How's this for refined?" He swept her into his arms and kissed her long and luxuriously.

"Oh." She pulled back, eyelids low. "That might not be refined, but it was fine."

He grinned, hooked his arm around her tiny waist, and continued on the way. Now to find another topic.

"So if this didn't make you a sn.o.b, why does it bother you?"

Arch's jaw hardened. Why couldn't she understand?

Then remorse swept through him. She couldn't understand for the same reason he hadn't understood her aversion to romance. Because the story hadn't been told. But his story-how could he tell it?

Maybe a simple declaration would do the job. "It's more than the temptation to be a sn.o.b. It's the temptation to use the power of wealth for selfish purposes."

"I can't see you doing that."

"I did. That's all you need to know."

"Is that so?" She stopped and eased away from him, crossing her arms.

He sank his hands, his stupid trembling hands, into the pockets of his khaki trousers, and he looked across the grounds, anywhere but into her accusing eyes.

"So you have a story, and you think it'd make me stop loving you."

He shrugged. "No one knows. Not a soul. I don't like to think about it. Understood?"

"Yes. I do understand." Her tone was pointed.

Under the maple tree sat the stone bench where Lillian had splayed open her soul before him.

His head sagged back. Why, Lord? Why do I have to tell her?

"Arch?" She looped her arm through his. "I love you. I'd only think less of you if you didn't regret your actions. But you obviously do."

Those hazel eyes locked onto him. How could he prod her to open up to him and then shut her out?

"Come on." He tilted his head toward the sea and coaxed her into walking. "Mrs. Lafferty was the best of women."

Lillian hugged his arm. "Who was she?"

"Our housekeeper. More than that. She was like another grandmother. She doted on me but never indulged me, never let me get away with anything. I loved her for it."

"She sounds like a good woman."

The muscles in his neck tensed. "When I was twelve, I chafed at her restrictions. The boys in my crowd liked to sneak out at night, but Mrs. Lafferty always caught me. The boys mocked me. Who was in charge? Who was the servant? My best friend said that with my wealth, I should have anything I wanted. And what did I want? I wanted to sneak out with my friends. I wanted freedom. And Mrs. Lafferty stood in my way."

Lillian murmured and stroked his arm.

Arch's hands balled up in his pockets. "I seethed for a while. I fought it. But I couldn't resist. I was the sole Vandenberg heir, and this servant had no right to stop me. So I . . ." His throat clogged up.

"Go on, sweetheart."

He glanced down at those eyes full of hard-earned trust, and he swallowed the thick sludge of shame. "It was the worst thing I've ever done. I planted my mother's jewelry in Mrs. Lafferty's room. When Mother noticed it was missing, I said I'd seen Mrs. Lafferty lurking around. And I-I also said I'd overheard her telling another servant she finally had the funds to retire. Lies and betrayal."

"Oh, Arch." She hugged his arm tighter.

"I didn't think through the consequences. I thought I'd just teach her a lesson and get my way, but of course not. Thank goodness my parents didn't press charges, but they did fire her. After forty years of service to the family, she was fired. The look on her face." Arch squeezed his eyes shut, but the image remained burned on his eyelids. It always would.

"What's worse . . ." His voice ground on his throat. "I was too much of a coward to come clean. Poor Mrs. Lafferty went to live with her sister, but she died a year later. I never apologized to her, never had the chance to beg her forgiveness, and I never-never told anyone what I'd done."

"But you changed."

"I had to. I was appalled at who I was. The stock market crashed right after that. Those boys I worked so hard to impress-they turned on each other. They shunned the boys whose families lost their wealth. Fickle and shallow. I didn't want any part of it."

Lillian faced him and stroked his cheek. "My darling Arch. I think Mrs. Lafferty would be very proud of the man you've become."

He couldn't stand it. He smashed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to Lillian's. "I don't know. I know G.o.d's forgiven me, but-"

"Then you're forgiven. Please forgive yourself." She kissed his cheek. "It takes a good and strong man to admit he was wrong and to change. I love that about you."

Arch pulled his hands from his pockets and folded Lillian in his arms. He didn't care if she could feel the trembling through the fabric of her dress. He needed to hold her.

For months, he'd longed for her love, to be loved for who he was, but he wasn't prepared for how a love like that could reach the darkest corners of his soul, unsettling him, renewing him.

"Arch! Lillian!" Jim's voice rose from the stairs down to the pier. "Are you ever-oh, for crying out loud."

Arch opened his eyes, but Lillian didn't push him away, so he didn't release her.

Jim stood on the path, one hand on his hip, his upper lip curled. "I don't want to see this."

"You gave us your blessing."

"That doesn't mean I want to see it."

Lillian rolled halfway out of Arch's embrace and gave her brother a saucy tilt of her head. "For the past four months, I've watched you cuddle with my friend, and now you have to watch me cuddle with your friend. I'd say we're even."

Jim burst out laughing and ducked his head. "Point taken. Now, are we going sailing?"

"What do you say?" Arch gave Lillian his best roguish smile. "Want to go cuddle on the sailboat? I might even kiss you."

"Oh, I hope so."

Jim groaned and jogged down the stairs. "Hurry up, or we'll shove off without you."

Arch followed. "Never thought the most cheerful man in the world would turn grumpy."

"Grumpy indeed," Lillian said in a loud voice. "Maybe that's what happened to Mr. Dixon. Maybe his sister fell in love with his best friend."

Jim laughed. "All right. All right. Now get moving."

Before long, Arch and Jim put the Caroline out to sea and trimmed her sails. Jim and Mary took the helm, and Arch sat with Lillian at the bow, snuggling in the cool breeze.

Lillian chatted about the weather and the homes on the sh.o.r.e and the changes she was making in the pharmacy, and Arch watched her, marveling at the sudden openness.

She loved him. He loved her. Such freedom.

Yet a potential trap. She knew enough to hurt him, even to ruin him.

The gray-blue waves surged by, tipped with white froth. He was drifting away from the safety of port, exposed to the elements.

"This is so relaxing," Lillian said, one amber lock dancing in her face. "Do you really plan to sell this place, the yacht?"

He captured the errant lock and twirled it around his finger. "Yes. You know why."

"I do. And I know why you like the simple life. I like it too. But wouldn't it be lovely to have the estate for a vacation getaway, a weekend retreat?"

Arch stared at his finger, trapped in the golden coil.