Edmund threw up his hands. "You see? He's always been jealous of Stuart!"

Cassie's eyes began to blaze. She confronted him boldly, though her body trembled with the force of her emotions. "And what if he was? He was just a little boy! Oh, I've no doubt you will choose not to believe it, but Gabriel loved Stuart, and I have it from his own lips! But you gave all of what he so desperately wanted from you to his brother! He felt all alone!"

"Alone! Why, the boy was hardly alone! The servants doted on him! And he had his mother -"

"His mother was all he had!" she accused. "Gabriel looked up to you. He worshipped you. Yet you spared him not a look, not a touch, never a hint of warmth. He told me how you gifted Stuart once with a pony, and brought nothing nothing for him! What kind of man are you to do such a thing to a child, to slight him so, to be so cold and heedless of your own son? You talk of duty. But where was your duty to both your sons?"

"You are mistaken. Gabriel wanted for nothing as a child. And make no mistake, Cassandra. As a child he was troublesome and willful and headstrong. As a youth he was even more rebellious and defiant, but it was never so with Stuart!"

"It's not hard to reason why! A child knows when he is not wanted, no one knows more than I! Gabriel was wounded that his father shunned him so, and his hurt turned to anger -- to rebellion. And must you forever compare him to Stuart? You said last night that Gabriel was nothing like Stuart and you are right. Gabriel can never replace Stuart and it's unfair of you to expect such of him! Nor is he a child any longer, and you cannot order him about as if he were."

Edmund stared at her dumbly. An awful band of tightness crept around his chest. He was not selfish, not in the way she thought. He had put Farleigh first, for it was his birthright, as it had been for generations before him and as it would become Gabriel's. But Cassandra made him sound like a monster.

"You are blind," she charged, her voice shaking with quiet outrage. "Blind to all but your own selfishness. You think yourself so much better than I. But you give not a thought to the feelings of those around you. Gabriel told me you never loved him, or his mother. Yet still in my heart, I was convinced he was wrong, that he had misunderstood you. Yet now I find it hard to believe you were ever kind, that you are even capable of love!

"My mother wished me dead," she went on. "My mother tried to see me dead. God alone knows who my father was. But I used to dream that he would someday return for me, that he would take me away and we would be happy. But perhaps I was luckier than Gabriel after all. Perhaps it was better to grow up with no father at all than to have been like Gabriel -- with a father like you!"

Hot tears slid down her cheeks. She wiped them away. "You may chastise me however you wish. Beat me. Banish me to the streets, for all I care. But I will never recant a single word --never!"

With a swirl of skirts he was left alone.

Slowly Edmund sank to his chair, his face bleached of all color. Did the girl truly think that he would find some way to punish her? No, he thought. He would do nothing, for she had done nothing.

Nothing but speak the truth.

If one of my sons had to be taken from me, why couldn't it have been you? God, but I wish you had never been born!

Inside he cringed. His carelessly flung remark speared clear to his heart. Dear God, he thought numbly, she was right. He was a monster ...

How could he have said such a thing to Gabriel? Sweet heaven -- how?

He had made a terrible mistake, he realized numbly. A mistake that might never be rectified.

For the very first time, Edmund Sinclair, duke Farleigh, saw himself as Cassandra saw him ... Cold. Harsh. Arrogant and unfeeling.

He saw himself for the man he really was.

His shoulders sagged. There was no pride. Only a despair that dragged upon his very soul ... a world of regret. It was only now that he gained even a glimmer of Gabriel's feelings. Whatever his son had felt for him had surely turned to hatred. He had killed any love or respect through his own neglect. He began to understand, now ... when it was too late.

He had thought he still had one son left ... Now it seemed he'd lost them both.

Cassie was too angry and restless to remain at Farleigh. Feeling the need to be alone and clear her head, she changed into her riding habit and went out to the stables. She gave the little mare she rode her head, and soon she was trotting up the drive to the Warrenton manor house. Though the house itself was grand and sprawling, the grounds were not as faultlessly sculpted and immaculate as those of the Farleigh estate.

Cassie idly brushed away a spot of dust from her clothes as she rang the bell. As the housekeeper admitted her, it belatedly flitted through her mind that perhaps she should not have come calling without an invitation. But Evelyn greeted her with both hands extended, her manner warm and welcoming as always. Still, Cassie was secretly glad when Evelyn let it slip that her father was not at home. Despite the fact that the duke of Warrenton was always polite and civil, his haughty manner had thawed but little over the past months.

She and Evelyn spent the afternoon drinking tea and talking. But when Cassie began to tease her about the beaus she had surely left behind in London, a faint distress crept into her lovely features.

Cassie frowned. "What is it?" she murmured.

Evelyn smoothed the folds in her gown before meeting her gently encouraging gaze. "It's just that ... oh, I wish Father were not so intent upon seeing me wed." She shook her head and added glumly, "I know it's but my imagination, but it seems it's all he thinks of. He's already begun plans for a grand ball the next Season -- nearly half a year away yet!"

Cassie studied her for a moment. "Has he received any offers?"

Evelyn nodded. "From Viscount Ashton."

"He did not accept it, did he?"

Evelyn shuddered. "No. Ashton is an impertinent lech, and a fortune hunter to boot!" She sighed. "I suppose I should be glad Father is not so set upon seeing me married that he will accept just anyone is suit. He is determined I shall not marry below an earl."

She paused, staring down at the half-cold tea in her cup. Cassie could have sworn her lovely eyes were marred with a wistful sadness but it was gone so quickly she could not be certain. The next instant Evelyn had raised her face and flashed a smile.

"Enough of me. I would much rather talk about you."

Cassie could not help it. The memory of all that Gabriel had done to her only last night -- all that had let him do -- vaulted into her mind. Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink.

Evelyn laughed delightedly and patted her hand. "You need not say more, love. I shall take that as a good sign."

A pang bit deep. It was Cassie's turn to smile wistfully. "It's not wise to nurture hope where none exists," she murmured.

"Nonsense," Evelyn declared with such conviction that Cassie looked at her in surprise. "Gabriel cares for you, I'm certain of it. Oh, he may not know it yet -- men can be such obtuse creatures you know! But I have watched him, Cassie, and when you are in the room he can scarce take his eyes from you -- and if his eyes and mind are thus entranced, his heart is sure to follow."

Cassie did not argue. Evelyn's outlook was always so rosy and bright, she could not bear to disappoint her. She set aside her cup and saucer, then said slowly, "Evelyn, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask you about Gabriel's mother."

"Of course I don't mind. But I'm afraid my memories of her are very vague. It's been quite some time since she died."

"I know," Cassie said quickly. "But her death is what I'd like to talk about ... and it's so difficult for Gabriel, I hate to pry further. Mrs. McGee mentioned once how tragic her death was, so I thought, perhaps Gabriel was with her at the end ... Had she been ill before she died?"

"Oh, no. Her death was tragic, to be sure. But it was an accident -- a terrible accident. The lake at Farleigh is where it happened, you know!"

The lake. Her heart began to thud with thick, painful strokes. "No," Cassie said faintly. "I didn't know."

Evelyn's brow knitted as she sought to remember. "I believe she was quite alone, though. She had a little craft she often took out -- but one summer day they found the craft floating in the middle of the lake." She paused. "Her body was found several days later."

Cassie fought a light-headed sensation that made it difficult to breathe. "Good Lord." Her voice was half-stifled. "Do not tell me that she ... that she --"

"Yes," Evelyn said quietly. "She drowned."

Chapter 18.

Though she tried to disguise it, Cassie's mood was troubled as she left Warrenton. It made her shudder to think how Caroline Sinclair had died. At the same time, an elusive hurt tugged at her heart. Why hadn't Gabriel told her his mother had drowned? That he offered to share so little of himself made her ache inside.

Foolish girl, chided a silent voice. He is well acquainted with your deathly fear of water ... Perhaps he wished to spare you.

But there was little point in dwelling on it, she realized. Regardless of his reasons, she would say nothing, for such memories of his mother were best left undisturbed.

The soft line of her mouth pressed together as she ducked a low-hanging branch. Thoughts of Gabriel inevitably turned to his father ... She dreaded returning to Farleigh, for she fully expected to face Edmund's wrath. For whatever reason he had chosen to hold his tongue while she had so busily engaged hers, she was certain that such restraint would not last long.

It was then she felt it ... a sensation so strong, the hair on the back of her neck prickled ... as if secret eyes watched ... and waited ..

She was not far from the gazebo, she noted with a shiver. Lovely as it was, Cassie had not returned there since that awful day she and Gabriel had been shot at.

She reined Ariel to a halt and called out sharply. "Who's there?"

There was no answer. All around her, the ground lay brushed with orange-gold leaves. Dappled sunlight poured through twisting tree branches. Though the autumn day was clear and sunny, a shaft of icy terror constricted her breath.

She dug her heels into Ariel's flanks, nearly losing her seat as the mare leaped forward. Bending low, she clung to her mane all the way back to Farleigh. She was still rather shaken when she slipped off the saddle and handed the reins to a groom.

It was then she noted Edmund's black and gold carriage was gone. Encountering Mrs. McGee in the entrance hall, Cassie waylaid her.

"Will His Grace be returning soon?"

"He's gone to his house in Bath, milady. I gather he plans to stay for at least a month." Mrs. McGee shrugged, then smiled. "A bit sudden, his decision to leave. But then he usually spends this time of year in Bath."

Cassie bit her lip. She harbored no illusions. The duke had left because of her -- and Gabriel. Though she was vastly relieved that she need not face him so soon again after her outburst, all at once she was beset by a niggling feeling of shame.

At dinner she felt woefully alone sitting at the immense dining table by herself.

She was exhausted by the time she climbed the stairs to her bedchamber. Long after she had dismissed Gloria, she paced the length of her room, her ears straining for some sound that Gabriel had returned from London. It was long after midnight when exhaustion gave way to despair, and then a weary resignation; finally she slipped beneath the counterpane.

But too much had happened that day for rest to come easily. Her sleep was fitful and restless ...

She was back in the woods again, only this time without Ariel. She was running. Alone. Desperate. Her heart pounding in sheer terror.

An air of menace hung dark and thick, like heavy fog. Phantom shadows darted all around, pursuing her, faster and faster. Frantic to evade them, she ran faster. Branches whipped her face, stinging her cheeks. Her muscles burned. She stumbled and fell.

All at once the lake was there, its turquoise waters pristine and serene. She could see herself, as if she were floating outside of her body. She was standing on the dock, her expression one of stricken horror. Even as she tried to cry out a warning, a hand came out and pushed . . .

Then she was back in her body again. Icy water closed over her head. She gasped, straining lo breathe, to survive. Surrounded by a dark, murky underworld, she clawed for the surface. But something was dragging her, pulling her down, ever down ... She tried to scream. Water filled her mouth, choking her, scalding her lungs. How odd, she thought. For she could hear herself scream, a shrill of pure terror ...

"Cassie! Open your eyes. It's just a dream, sweet, just a dream."

The command penetrated her haze of consciousness. Her eyes opened. The golden glow of a candle lit the darkness. Gabriel's face, grim and unrelenting, swam above her. His arms were strong and hard about her back. With a moan, she sagged against him, curling her fingers in the front of his shirt. She inhaled deeply, a long, ragged breath; he smelled of crisp, starched linen, and he felt so good, all warm, heated strength.

"I did not know you were back," she whispered after a moment.

"I've only just arrived. You scared the devil out of me -- I thought some madman was in here with you." Warm fingers traced soothingly up and down her spine. "What were you dreaming of?"

She suppressed a shudder. She could not tell him. All at once she felt silly and childish. "It's nothing." She raised her head and tried to pass it off with a tremulous smile. "I was at Warrenton this afternoon, and when I rode back, I had the strangest sensation that someone was watching me"

"You were alone?"

She frowned, for she had felt the brittleness that invaded his hold. "Yes" she whispered into his shoulder.

With a muttered imprecation he drew back. He stared down at her, his mouth a tight white line. "Dammit, Cassie, I don't want you out riding without a groom. I thought I made myself clear."

Her smile wavered. He was tense, so very tense...."Evelyn does not ride with a groom."

"Evelyn has not had a precipitous number of so-called accidents of late."

Cassie 's breath stilled, along with the beat of her heart. An eerie foreboding trickled along her spine. She searched his face. "You do not think they were accidents?"

Gabriel cursed himself roundly. He had said too much -- revealed too much -- while knowing far too little. Still, perhaps this was best.

"In all likelihood they were, both the shooting and the attack in London." He did not want to alarm her, yet perhaps now she would take more caution. I hired an investigator to try to find the man who accosted you. I met with him this afternoon in London. Unfortunately, the rogue has slipped from our grasp."

"I thought you were convinced he was just a footpad."

"Oh, of that I have no doubt. Nevertheless, I wish the man caught." He paused. "Cassie, I do not want to frighten you needlessly. But I want you to think. Is there anyone back in Charleston who might wish you harm? Someone connected with your family, perhaps."

She hesitated. "I told you before, there's no one. My father, whoever he is, does not even know I exist." The briefest spasm of pain passed over her face. "And I doubt my mother remembers." She shook her head, then murmured, "I'm afraid the only person I know of who might wish me ill is your father.

Gabriel's regard sharpened. Cassie bit her lip, obviously disconcerted. "Your father left for Bath this afternoon."

"Bath! But I saw his calendar only this morning. He had no such plans."

"I know." Cassie's eyes avoided his. "I'm afraid I am responsible."

"You?" His short laugh affirmed his disbelief. 'Tank, I doubt there is a soul on this earth who could make my father do something he did not wish to."

She hesitated, yet she knew she had no choice but to come out with the truth. "I heard the two of you this morning," she said quietly. "I heard the terrible things he said to you. I was furious -- furious that he could be so callous. And I fear I simply could not help myself ... I gave him quite a dressing down."

"I see." The muscles of his face seemed to freeze. He put her from him. Cassie felt cold and hereft.

And he was angry. She could see it in the set of his jaw, as inflexible as iron.

"You need not defend me, Yank. I assure you, I am quite capable of fighting my own battles."

He had retreated from her, wholly and utterly, in spirit and in body. How could he be so warm and comforting one minute, so cold and patronizing the next? Hurt and outrage brought her chin high.

"Let us not mince words, my lord." The coolness of her tone matched his. "Do you mean to say I have no right to intrude in your life?"

"Why, Yank," he paused, his smile flashing white against his dark features, "it seems we understand each other perfectly."

Small hands fisted at her sides, Cassie rose to her feet. A curious tightness settled around her heart.

"Oh, yes, I understand, Gabriel. I understand all that you do not. Oh, but you are so very much your father's son, just as blind and stubborn! You think yourself so much above him, don 't you? You judge him for his mistakes. You despise your father for neglecting your mother, for doing to her ... what you would do to me ... and for what, I ask? To spite him, to punish him! Oh, but you are no different than your father -- no better than him."

She spun around and strode to the connecting door between their rooms. "I will thank you to leave me alone." Her tone was as cutting as her glare.

Gabriel's eyes flickered. He did not move a muscle.

By now Cassie was too incensed to be afraid. A scalding rush of anger poured through her. "Didn't you hear me? Get out." She stamped her foot. "Get out!"