She smiled, but she sobered instantly. "Someone is trying to kill Emmy," she said. "Who could possibly wish to do such a thing?"

"Perhaps," he said, his elbows on the chair arms, his fingers steepled, "someone who knows that she is precious to Ashley."

She frowned and lifted Harry against one shoulder so that she could rub his back and pat it to dislodge the wind he never failed to swallow. "But who would wish to hurt Ashley?" she asked. "No one here has even known him for long."

"He was Alice's husband," he said. "Ashley tells me that Alice dismissed Mr. Binchley as steward here before she left for India. Mr.

Binchley and his daughter now live in near poverty outside the gates of Penshurst. Someone appears to have shot Alice's brother. The verdict was that 'twas an accident, though no one ever admitted to doing the shooting. Ashley believes 'twas murder. And now soon after Ashley has returned, someone has been frightening the woman he loves."

"Trying to kill her," she said.

"I doubt it." Luke considered for a moment. "It was misty this morning. Whoever did the shooting must have been close. Emily's deafness would enable him to draw quite close without much fear of detection. Unless he was a very poor shot, 'tis surprising that he hit so far from his mark, assuming that he was close and that his mark was her heart. I believe the intention was merely to frighten her. If so, then 'twas brilliantly successful."

Anna shuddered. She set Harry to her other breast, the wind having been quite audibly dislodged. "But who?" she said. "And why? What does Emmy-or Ashley-have to do with what happened here before he even met Alice?"

"We will have to hope, my dear," he said, "that Emily can enlighten us as to the nature of the first frightening experience she had. If she saw someone and can tell us his identity-or heridentity, for that matter-then perhaps we can proceed further."

"Was Ashley serious when he said he would kill the man responsible?" she asked.

"Were you serious," he asked, looking steadily at her, "when you said you would help?"

"Yes," she said after a pause.

"I believe, my dear," he said, "that Ashley has a stronger motivation even than yours to stake his life on Emily's protection."

She said no more but lowered her gaze to Harry, who was beginning to tire and lose some interest in his meal. Luke sat quietly watching them. Wisely he did not reflect aloud on the fact that a man would willingly die to protect the peace and safety of his woman and of the children they had begotten together in love.

"Come with me, Rod?" Ashley asked. The two of them were sitting in the study, waiting. Waiting for Emily to wake up, Ashley supposed. There was little else to do. He had walked about on the hill behind the house with his friend while Luke had stayed at the house at his request, and it seemed to him that they had looked at every tree. They had found no bullet. And what would have been solved if they had he did not know. Now his butler had brought word that Sir Henry Verney and Miss Verney had come to call on her grace and Lady Emily and that he had shown them into the visitors' salon.

Ashley's first instinct had been to send word back simply that the ladies were not receiving.

"Of course. It would be my pleasure." Major Cunningham got to his feet. But he clapped a hand on Ashley's shoulder before they reached the door. "But 'twould be as well to keep a cool head. Ash. Despite what you have told me, there is nothing to prove that Verney has any reason to wish Lady Emily harm, or you either. Besides, I like the man."

Barbara Verney was rising to her feet when they walked through the doorway of the salon. Sir Henry Verney was standing before the window, his back to it. Both looked somewhat surprised to see neither Anna nor Emily.

"Miss Verney." Ashley made her a bow. "Verney. This is a pleasure my sister-in-law and Lady Emily will regret having missed."

"Oh," Miss Verney said, after curtsying to both him and the major, "they are from home. What a disappointment. You see, Henry? I told you this was rather a late hour of the morning to be paying a call."

"Please do have a seat," Ashley said, indicating the one she had risen from at his entrance. "I shall have some tea brought in. They are not from home. Lady Emily is indisposed and her grace is tending her."

Both looked instantly and politely concerned. "I hope 'tis not a serious indisposition," Sir Henry said.

"No," Ashley said. "Not serious."

"I do believe," Major Cunningham said, smiling appreciatively at Barbara Verney, "that I must have been from England altogether too long. The styles of ladies' hair and hats are far more becoming now than they used to be. Or perhaps 'tis just that the few ladies I have seen since my return have superior beauty and taste."

Miss Verney laughed. "If you flatter the enemy as you flatter my sex.

Major," she said, " 'tis no wonder France was defeated in the recent war."

But the major insisted that she describe to him how ladies succeeded in dressing their hair so high and keeping its height.

"Pads," he said after she had explained. "Ingenious, madam, and altogether enchanting."

They drank their tea and conversed on a wide range of topics, all decidedly frivolous and all directed by Major Cunningham.

" 'Tis a good thing, Henry," Miss Verney said, setting down her cup and saucer and signaling an early departure, "that you did not leave me at the door as you suggested in order to go about your own business before returning for me. I would have been an embarrassment to Lord Ashley."

"Not at all, Miss Verney," he said. "I would have been pleased to show you the park and the river walk. Are you familiar with them?"

"From childhood," she said, getting to her feet. "I am sorry about Lady Emily. You will convey our good wishes to her for her restored health, my lord? We would have called earlier this morning, but Henry was from home from first light until little more than an hour ago. 'Twas most provoking when he had promised to escort me on several visits in addition to this one." She smiled at her brother to indicate that she was teasing rather than seriously scolding.

Ashley drew a slow breath. "Where were you?" he asked Sir Henry.

"I beg your pardon?'' Sir Henry looked back at him with raised eyebrows.

"I asked where you were this morning between first light and one hour ago," Ashley said. "I ask again. Where were you?"

"Ash-," Major Cunningham said, touching him lightly on the arm.

They were all on their feet.

Ashley jerked his arm away. "Where were you?" he asked again.

Sir Henry's eyes narrowed. "I am not convinced that I owe you or anyone else an explanation for my movements, Kendrick," he said.

"And if you will excuse me, there is a lady in the room. I will escort her home."

"I believe," Major Cunningham said, "it might be wise to tell them what happened this morning, Ash."

" 'What happened'?" Miss Verney was looking bewildered and rather pale. "What didhappen this morning?''

"Perhaps youcan tell us," Ashley said, not taking his eyes from Sir Henry.

"Ash."' The major's voice had taken on a note of authority- "Sit down. Miss Verney, please do seat yourself again. Lady Emily was shot at this morning up on the hill."

Barbara Verney pressed both hands to her mouth.

"Fortunately," the major said, "apart from a badly grazed hand and badly shocked nerves, she is unharmed.''

"And you think I did it," Sir Henry said almost in a whisper. "Egad, you still think I killed Greg Kersey. And you think now I tried to kill Lady Emily. Do you believe I make a career of shooting people, even when they have done nothing to offend me? I will meet you for this.

Kendrick." He drew an audible breath through his nose. "But this is not for a lady's ears. Come, Barbara. I will take you home and deal with this later."

"No," she said, her voice shaking. She sat down. "Let us deal with it now and without foolish talk of duels. Lord Ashley is upset, Henry.

Lady Emily is his guest here, and we all know that even besides that point he has an affection for her. And all he did was ask you a question-which you refused to answer. I believe 'tis time for some plain speaking."

"Bravo, madam," Major Cunningham said. "Sir Henry, sit down if you please. Sit down, Ash. Perhaps you would prefer that I leave?"

"No," Ashley said quickly. "Stay, please."

"You must tell Lord Ashley what you believe, Henry," his sister said.

"It concerns your late wife," Sir Henry said stiffly. "Perhaps you should hear it alone."

"No," Ashley said. He had seated himself again. Sir Henry did not sit. "Whatever you have to say can be said in Major Cunningham's hearing."

" Tis my belief," Sir Henry said, "that Gregory Kersey's death was not accidental. He might have taken his own life. He had a gun with him and it had been recently fired-as had all our guns, of course. He had motive- perhaps. But I believe 'twas murder." He drew a deep breath. "I believe Alice killed him."

" What?" The word came out as a whisper. Everything had blackened about the edges of Ashley's vision.

"But why?" Major Cunningham's voice, sounding strangely calm, broke into the ensuing silence.

"He was to marry Katherine Binchley the very day he died," Sir Henry said. "He had the special license and had made the arrangements for the ceremony to be performed quietly in a different parish."

Ashley could do nothing but stare at him.

"And you believe that Lady Ashley-Miss Kersey- killed her brother merely because she was about to be supplanted as mistress of Penshurst?" the major asked. "It sounds a trifle extreme, does it not?''

"Not for that reason." Sir Henry was looking at Ashley. "I believe you understand, Kendrick. She told you all- except perhaps the incriminating details I have just mentioned."

But he did not understand at all. Not at all. He felt as if he must have walked into some bizarre dream.

"Tell me," he said.

Sir Henry looked acutely uncomfortable. He glanced at Major Cunningham and at his sister.

"I know already, Henry," she said. "I guessed and you did not deny it, remember? You need not worry now about my sensibilities."

"She was upset at the whole idea of his marrying," Sir Henry said.

"She was fond of him." He cleared his throat nervously. "She was overfond of him."

"Egad," the major said.

But Ashley's eyes had closed. Into his consciousness rushed a detail that perhaps he had kept at bay ever since meeting Sir Henry Verney.

Ashley had reminded her of her lover, Alice had told him on the morning after their disastrous wedding night. That was what had attracted her to him. He had reminded her of her lover-Sir Henry Verney. But Verney looked nothing whatsoever like himself. And one of Emmy's signed messages just yesterday echoed loudly in his mind, as if she had spoken aloud. Like you, she had indicated. She had been pointing to the portrait of Gregory Kersey, set in a twin frame with Alice's portrait. Like you.

"She was an unhappy woman when Gregory started paying court to Katherine," Sir Henry said. "As unhappy about it as I was."

"But you were her lover," Ashley said without opening his eyes.

"Katherine's?" Sir Henry said stiffly. "No. I behaved with honor toward her."

"No," Barbara Verney said. "He means Alice's, Henry."

"Alice's?" Sir Henry looked shocked. "I was Alice's lover? Is thatwhat she told you? Egad. Tis not true, as I live."

But Alice had not been a virgin. She had not been a virgin.

"I can see," Sir Henry said, "that all of this is new to you, Kendrick. I am sorry. Truly sorry. I assumed when you told me Alice had told you all that she had told you the truth, even if she had withheld the most violent and incriminating part of it."

"Your quarrel with Kersey," Ashley said, "was occasioned by the fact that you both loved the same woman. 'Twas not because he knew you had debauched his sister."

"Dear Lord God," Barbara Verney said.

"No," Sir Henry said quietly.

"Her attachment to her brother was so strong that she would kill him rather than lose him to another woman?" Major Cunningham asked. "Do you have any proof that she shot him, Verney? Or is this a wild guess?"

Yes, her attachment was that strong, Ashley thought with certainty.

They had been lovers. Her eyes had been fiercely fanatical when she had told her husband of twenty-four hours that she still loved the other man, that she would always love him. Always. Yes, she had loved him enough to kill him. And to live in torment ever after.

"She was on the hill," Sir Henry said. "I saw her fleeing downward when I stopped and looked back after hearing the shot. She denied having been there when I confronted her, and then admitted it. She claimed to have been coming to join the shoot-she did sometimes- and to have heard the lone shot and to have seen her brother down.

She claimed to have been too filled with horror and panic to go close.

She had run back to the house for help. But there was a firmness, an intrepidity about Alice that made that explanation ring not quite true. Besides, she did not send Binchley to look until hours later. Do I have proof that she killed Greg? No. Perhaps I have always been glad that I did not. I kept my mouth shut. Even Barbara has only guessed these things until this morning. She is now hearing for the first time, as you are, that I saw Alice."

"Why might it have been suicide?'' Major Cunningham asked. "Why might Kersey have killed himself on the morning of his wedding?''

Ashley's elbows were on his knees, his face in his hands.

"His-love for Katherine was a sudden thing," Sir Henry said, an edge of bitterness in his voice. "And he was an unhappy man. We had always been close friends. But there was a barrier there between us even before he took Katherine from me. There was something he was not willing to talk about. Something I could only guess at. 'Twas only later that I discovered Barbara had made the same guesses."

"He was trying to make his life more... normal, then?" the major said.

"I believe so." Sir Henry had gone to stand at the window, his back to the room.

"Henry has been puzzled and hurt by the extent of your hostility,"

Miss Verney said quietly to Ashley. " 'Tis clear now that there has been a huge misunderstanding. I think we should take our leave, Henry. Major? He looks in a state of near collapse."

"I shall see to him, madam," Major Cunningham said. "I am his friend."

"Yes," she said. "I can see that. Come, Henry."

Ashley was aware of Sir Henry Verney's stopping beside him on his way to the door. For a moment a hand rested on his shoulder.

"I am sorry," Sir Henry said.

Ashley kept his head down, his face resting on his hands. His wife's brother had also been her lover. She had killed him because he had been trying to break free of an incestuous relationship by taking a wife.

"Henry," his sister said as their carriage drove away from the house, "he did not know. That poor man!"