A faint purr hummed from Jetta. Clarissa knew she would purr too if Hawk was stroking her in that absent-minded but continuous way.

aItas lovely,a she said.

aI think so. It is doubtless impractical of me, but I donat want to see it change.a aWho would?a He flashed her a smile. aMost people, especially if they had to actually live here. And are tall.a He ducked slightly to lead her into a dark-paneled dining room with another huge fireplace, ancient oak sideboards, and a thick table. That table had been polished so long and lovingly that the glossy top seemed to have the depth of a dark pool.

A mobcapped, aproned woman came in bearing plates. She bobbed a curtsy and went on with her business.

aArenat you tempted to have the doorways made higher?a she asked.

aIt would be a serious structural challenge. Iam learning by painful experience.a He led the way through an adjoining door into another parlor.

Another bank of windows almost filled the wall, and a window seat ran the width of it. Beyond lay a simple garden with lawn, rockery, and beds of flowers. And beyond that flowed the river. Two swans glided past as if completing the picture for her particular delight.

How wonderful to spend long summer evenings on this seat, by this river.

With Hawk.

It was not just wishful thinking.

Clarissa was determined that it would be so.

Chapter Fifteen.

They walked over, as if in perfect accord, to look out at the view. Beyond the river lay peaceful fields, some with crops and some with cows. The land rose in the distance to the downs that lay between here and Brighton.

aWhat is the big white house up there?a she asked. aSteynings?a aYes.a aWhy is the village only on this side of the river?a aThe Edenas deep here and tricky to cross, and the bridge is quite recent. Before that a person needed a boat or to go downstream a mile to Tretford to cross.a She saw an old boathouse off to one side, unused now, wrapped around and split by wisteria.

aSo Lord Vandeimenas house wouldnat have been built over there before the bridge.a aNot unless he wanted to keep his inferior neighbors at bay.a She sat on the seat and smiled up at him, simply happy. Happy with everything. aAnd did he?a His hand continued to stroke the blissful cat. aWhen the first Baron Vandeimen settled here, he was inclined to look down on our simple ways, they say. Foreign, you see. Over the generations, they are beginning to fit in.a Clarissa heard a laughing comment from Lord Vandeimen, but her attention was all on Hawk. His eyes were warm and full of humor. And something else?

He was very hard to read.

He looked out at the view again. aMy bedroom is directly above here. We experimented with flashing candlelight messages in the night. Van and I could see each otheras lights, then Van and Con could send messages clear across the vale.a aIam surprised that isnat done more often.a aIt is useda"especially by smugglersa"but, of course, itas subject to bad weather. Come on, Iall show you something else.a He guided her back across the hall and up a short flight of stairs into another room as if she were the only one on this tour.

aBut this is too big,a Clarissa said, looking around at a space that seemed as big again as the house.

aWe call it the great hall, which is a little grandiose, but it serves the function. My mother held the occasional small ball here.a He led her further in. aNow youare in the old tower.a Then she understood where the extra space had come from. Most of the room was inside the hexagonal tower. To her right were the arrow slits shead seen from the courtyard. Now she could see that they were glazed. There were more at regular intervals, but in the side of the tower opposite the door, another bank of windows had been cut. Since the tower walls were deep, the window seat was in an alcove of its own.

She went to kneel on the cushions to look out. This view was on a diagonal, looking out at a kitchen garden and an orchard, the trees already laden with small fruit. To the right she glimpsed the farm buildings head mentioned, and beyond, the river wound on through yet more fertile countryside.

aThe kitchens and such are below, which is why this is raised.a He had come over to stand close behind her, so Jettaas purr almost vibrated through her. If she turned, how close? aAnd that, Iam afraid, is all I can show you today. My father does not want to be disturbed.a She swiveled and found that her knees almost touched his. aHe is very unwell?a aHeas partly paralyzed. Heas improving, but itas slow and he prefers not to show himself to strangers. Heas also often out of temper.a He took her hand and gently tugged her off the cushioned seat. aLet me take you out into the garden.a It was a surprise to find the others in the large alcove with them, and frankly she wished they werenat. According to Queen Cleopatra, she needed to be apart with him.

Then she realized that Hawk held on to her hand. She still wore her gloves, but they were cotton lace and it was almost skin to skin. Queen Cleopatra had been right about the potency of that.

His other arm still cradled the cat, who was eyeing Clarissa suspiciously through slit eyes, but at least wasnat hissing as yet. She liked the thought that the cat was jealous. Animals were supposed to have good instincts.

As they followed a stone-paved path down to the riverbank, she felt as if she and Hawk blended at palms and fingers to become one, but when they reached the riverbank he abruptly disentangled them. Almost as if head only just noticed the joining.

She was lost without a map in a wilderness of emotions and touches.

A family of ducks paddled busily around, bobbing for food, ducklings quacking and dashing. Jetta leaped down from Hawkas arms to lie in the sun watching the ducklings, as if she hoped one would come close.

aDonat you dare,a Clarissa warned.

The cat only blinked.

Clarissa decided to stay close, just in case, but she turned back to look at the house. It seemed contentedly slumberous in the sun, wrapped in its blanket of climbing plants and thatch. The sun was warm on her skin and gave a glow to everything.

This was one of lifeas perfect moments. She hadnat had many, but she recognized it. It was a moment she would never forget, but she hoped there would be many more like it.

aPenny for your thoughts?a he said.

Now that was an invitation, but she wouldnat rush in until he had been given his chance. She could wait.

aMy thoughts are that this is a lovely home, and you are very fortunate to have grown up here.a aAh.a At the tone she glanced at him.

aTrue fortune is to grow up surrounded by love, wouldnat you say, despite the circumstances? If this had been your family home, would it have made your youth happy?a aIf this had been my family home, it would not be in nearly such good repair. And anything of value would have been stripped from it years ago.a aI see. You think I should count my blessings?a She met his eyes. aI think we all should. And the main blessing is a future. Whatever the past has been, the future is always ours to make.a He was clearly listening and thinking.

aA future without the tendrils of the past?a He looked at the manor. aA house like this says otherwise. The future is not a road stretching cleanly in front of us. It is a layer built on the foundation of the past.a She thought of her family, her childhood, Deveril, Deverilas death. aDoes no one ever get to start building anew?a His smile was wry. aPerhaps. But not someone who belongs to a place like Hawkinville Manor.a aBelongs to,a she said. aI like that.a But a movement on the ground caught her eye. Jetta had risen to a hunting crouch, and one little duckling was paddling close to the bank.

Clarissa stepped forward and shooed it away.

aShe wouldnat, would she?a she asked Hawk.

aSheas an excellent mouser.a aThatas different.a aNot to the mouse. The cat is a predator, Clarissa. It is its nature to hunt.a She turned back to watch the ducklings. aIt is a hawkas nature too.a aAnd a falconas.a She glanced at him. Was that a hint? Did he want her to ask him? Why? aI assure you, I wonat bring you gifts of small victims.a He reached out and lightly touched her cheek. aWhereas I would like to bring you your enemies, headless.a aEnemies?a His touch and the word had her dazed.

aPeople who wish you ill. People you fear.a She laughed, though to her own ears it sounded shaky. aAlas, I have no enemies worthy of a hawk.a aAlas, indeed. But lacking a true enemy, I will make do with a petty one. No one has spoken to you unkindly? No carriage has splashed mud on your gown? No servant has served your soup cold?a He was teasing, but he hadnat been teasing before. Why should he suspect enemies? How much of the picture had he put together?

aI wouldnat demand anyoneas head for that,a she said. aIn fact, I want no more violence in my life.a aMore?a She was stuck, but then Lord Trevor said, aSomeoneas waving, sir.a They both looked around to see an aproned figure waving from the manor door.

aAh,a Hawk said. aThe carriage must have returned to take us up to Steynings.a As the others went ahead, he scooped up the cat, then put his free hand on Clarissaas back to direct her toward the house. As he had in that room in the Old Shipa Her dress was fine, and she was wearing the lightest of corsets. She felt the heat, and a thread of excited pleasure up and down her spine as she retraced her steps to the house.

Hawk and Hawkinville.

She would have both. She must have both!

Steynings was certainly a complete contrast to the manora"all clean, modern lines and symmetry. Inside, however, the place was a hive of mending, hammering, painting, and cleaning. The smell of wet plaster, sawdust, and linseed oil stole any sense of comfort for Clarissa. She followed Mariaas guided tour, wondering if her husband minded his family home being taken over in this way by his new wife.

She didnat think Lord Vandeimen minded much that his wife did, just as she would find it hard to mind much that Hawk did. He wasnat by her side nowa"the men had disappeared, probably to find a quiet corner and drink alea"and every moment of this tour seemed a waste of time.

Since there was no escaping, however, she tried to pay attention and make intelligent comments. One day soon, she hoped, the Vandeimens would be neighbors.

When she studied things, it did seem to her that most of the work was an improvement. Some doors had been moved, and two rooms had been opened up into one. The pale paintwork was fresh and airy and suited this building. It was easy to comment approvingly.

As they all returned to the marble-floored entrance hall, the men emerged.

Hawk came over to her. aMore to your taste, I gather?a Clarissa checked that her hostess was out of earshot before answering, aNot at all, Iam afraid. Itas too cool and big.a He looked skeptical. Did he really think everyone preferred the modern style?

aTruly, Hawk. I think the manor house is lovely.a Frustratingly, he seemed to take her comment as mere good manners. What else could she say? That she loved his house so much that she would marry Lord Deveril for it? Well, not quite that, for sure.

Then Lord Amleigh and his wife strode in in riding dress and high spirits. Clarissa did not think she imagined their sharp looks, as if she was being assessed. That was a very hopeful sign, if both of Hawkas friends thought her of interest.

They all sat down in the dining room for a cold luncheon. Though the room was in a state for guests, Clarissa could see that work had been left half done in various spots. The food was excellent, however, and a general peace suggested that the workmen were also taking their meal.

She began to take in a sense of the house as it would be, and amid the relaxed conversation, indulged herself in imagining dinners here with these couples as her good friends. Her mind sped ahead to children growing up together as the three men had, but all in completely happy homes.

Not in a home like hers, or like Hawkas.

In some things, at least, a new beginning was possible.

She heard about the Vandeimensa wedding feast. It would be wonderful to be married like that, to be introduced to the village like that.

aYouall have to choose a bride soon, Hawk,a teased Lady Amleigh, aso we can have another party before the summer is out.a aGreedy, arenat you, Susan? Wouldnat it be better to wait a summer or two? There arenat likely to be any more of that sort for a generation.a aSpeaking of generations,a Lady Amleigh responded, awe can celebrate christenings!a She blushed and grinned. aAnd yes, that does mean that I think thereas going to be a christening in February.a Everyone congratulated the Amleighs, but Hawk said, aHardly the time for a village fete, Iam afraid.a Clarissa detected a touch of wistfulness in Maria Vandeimenas expression, and wondered. The lady had been married and had no children. Could that happen to her? She supposed it could happen to any woman.

With talk of fetes and babies, everyone was lazy about rising from the table, but eventually Maria said that the workmen needed to get back to their tasks and theyad been told to be quiet while the guests were here.

They all walked out into the hall, and the Amleighs took their departure. The Vandeimens, however, were approached by an aproned man holding rolls of plans, and soon they were embroiled in an intent discussion.

Lord Trevor and Althea wandered to study some painted panels, leaving Clarissa and Hawk alone. It was not a good enough separation, however. The day here was almost done. Soon they would be in the carriage home, all chances gone. And shead vowed to propose before they left.

Here?

The acoustics of the hall were such that she could almost catch what everyone else was saying. She needed to be outside with him. For quite a long time.

aAfter a lunch like that,a she said, aI would love a walk. Could we walk back to the village, perhaps?a Hawk looked at her, but then said, aMaria will probably be some time, and would be relieved not to have us hovering. Thereas a pleasant footpath that should take only a half hour or so.a Anticipation and pure nerves tied Clarissaas insides in a knot, but she said, aThat sounds perfect!a But then he said, aIall ask Lord Trevor and Miss Trist.a Clarissa fiercely projected a message to Althea to refuse, but the other couple came over while Hawk went to speak to the Vandeimens. Clarissa looked for an opportunity to whisper to Althea, but none presented itself and in moments they were leaving the house by the back terrace, any hopes and plans in ruins.

She tried to imagine Althea lingering behind with Lord Trevor, but couldnat. Althea, after all, was a stickler for the proprieties.

Halfway across the lawn toward the woodland, however, Althea stopped. aOh, dear. Iam terribly sorry. My ankle has begun to ache. I twisted it slightly in the mud at the fair.a They all stood there for a moment, then Hawk said, aWe will go back.a aOh, no! Please donat,a Althea protested. aIam sure you were looking forward to the walk.a She turned to Lord Trevor. aBut if you could give me your arm back to the house, my lordaa Of course he agreed. Clarissa glanced at Hawk, wondering if he would insist on returning as well, but he said nothing.

aWell, then,a she said to Althea, aif you will be all rightaa aPerfectly.a And Althea winked.

Clarissa had to fight not to laugh as she turned again, alone with Hawk at last.

Instinct told her that this could be the most important half hour of her life.

Chapter Sixteen.

Hawk linked arms with Clarissa and led her toward the woods and wilderness. He looked down at her, but her golden straw hat shielded her face and made her a woman of mysterya"as if she wasnat enough of a mystery already.

Head not planned this unchaperoned walk, but now that it sat in his hands he could not reject the gift. He could use it to seek details about Deverilas death, but he knew he simply wanted to enjoy this time with the woman he could not have.

It was perilous. He recognized that. Strange magic was weaving through this day, and he felt as if he were walking into a fairy circle, being slowly deprived of logic and purpose.

He would do no wrong, however. He had promised Van, and a promise like that was sacred. All the same, a stern chaperone would have been safer.

A yowl made him look back to see Jetta running after them like a thoroughbred. aAh. A chaperone after all.a aDo we need one?a He glanced at Clarissa, catching a wickedly demure look that made him want to groan. What was he going to do if she had wicked designs upon him?

The cat arrived with a final yowl of protest. He picked it up, saying to Clarissa, aIf you donat think we do, Falcon, you are being naive.a She blushed, but it only created a more devastating glow. aI am capable of saying no to anything I do not want, Hawk. Are you saying you would force me?a aYou have a mistaken idea of the role of the chaperone, my girl.a They strolled on, the cat now limply content. aHer role is not to prevent wolves from attacking, but to prevent maidens from throwing themselves into the jaws of the wolves.a She turned her head so he could see her whole face, and her expression was decidedly wicked. aI have always disliked having a chaperone.a He stroked the cat. aJetta, I think you are truly needed here.a Clarissa laughed, a charming gurgle of laughter that was new. A few weeks ago in Cheltenham she hadnat laughed like thata"relaxed and happy. Seductive.

He could vividly imagine her laughing like that in bed. Naked in a well-used beda Head seen men bewitched by wicked women, often to the extent of besmirching their honor, once or twice to their complete destruction. Had they, too, felt careless as they fell, as if a few magical moments were worth any fate?

If he had any sense, he would return to the house now.

Instead, he went on with her, out of the sunshine and into the cool mystery of the woodland. Jetta leaped down to explore, and Hawk searched for something innocuous to say. aWe played here a great deal as boys.a aKnights and dragons?a she asked.

aAnd crusaders and infidels. Pirates and the navya" but we were always the pirates.a The hat tilted, showing a glimpse of nose. aA criminal inclination, I see.a An opening. He could not fail to take it. aOf course. Have you never played the criminal?a He watched carefully, but since he could still see only her nose, it was hard to judge her reaction.

aHave you?a she said.

Yes, now.

How peaceful it seemed in this other world under the green shade, busy birdsong all around them. Jetta pounced into some ferns, then out again, thankfully without a trophy.

Hawk looked at the siren walking so demurely by his side and wished this was the innocent, unshadowed stroll it seemed.

aNot here. None of us wanted to play the true villains. We didnat consider pirates villains, of course. The dragons, infidels, and navy had to be imaginary.a She turned so he could see her complete smile. aBut villains often have the best lines. I always asked to play the villain in school plays.a aA villainous inclination, I see.a aPerhaps.a There was laughter in it, however, not dark meaning. aI certainly preferred it to being the heroine. There are so few good roles for a heroine.a aShakespeare has some.a aTrue. Portia. Beatrice. I played Lady Macbeth oncea"a He could imagine that a hand tightened on her throat, sealing off any more words. Why? What was it about Lady Macbeth that could not be spoken? Like the distant rumble of cannons, speaking of death, he remembered the bloody dagger in the play.

aBut is she a heroine?a he asked, watching. aShe incites a murderaa He was almost certain that Lord Arden had killed Deveril, but had Clarissa incited him to it? Pressed the dagger into his hands? It was not a picture he wanted to envision.

aShe suffers for it,a Clarissa said.

aBut some murderers benefit from their crimes.a aOnly if theyare not caught.a She was getting better and better at tossing words around without showing her feeling. He admired it, but he wished for a little more transparency.

Exactly how had it gone? Planned assassination, or crime of the moment? It mattered. It mattered to him because he did not want her to be guilty in the tiniest degree, and it would matter if it ever, God forbid, came to the courts.

He knew he was dicing with that. By stirring this pot, he risked everything pouring out to destroy.

aItas a difficult role for a schoolgirl,a he remarked, abut playing Macbeth would be harder still.a aOh, not really.a Her voice seemed normal again. aHeas caught up in circumstances, isnat he? And anyway, schoolgirls love dark drama and tragedy. Every fifteen-year-old girl longs to die a martyr. We used to enact the story of Joan of Arc for amusement.a Shead slid deftly away from the edge.

aYou played Joan of Arc, while we played Robin Hood. Saint and thief. That probably reflects the difference between girls and boys.a aMilitant saint and honorable thief. We girls werenat attracted to the kind of saint who spent her life in prayer and peace, just as none of you wanted to play the true villains.a aWe conscripted some.a He lifted a trailing branch out of her way. aThe head groundsman here was unknowingly our sheriff of Nottingham. Avoiding him was a challenge, especially as he didnat always approve of what we were doing and carried a sturdy stick.a aAnd what about Maid Marian?a she asked with a look.

aNot until we were much older.a She laughed again, that charming chuckle.

He suddenly stopped, and without question or apology loosened her bonnet ribbons so the hat flattened and hung down her back.