When he began to remove the cup, her lips followed, clinging to the rim. Only now did she realize how thirsty she was. And there was still a dull ache at the back of her head, although that was notso bad as when she had awakened before.

"More?" he asked.

At her nod, he tilted the cup, and she drank from it greedily. When she signaled that she'd finished, he eased her down on the pillows once more. Then he turned to set the cup on a table beside the bed, where the candle had been last night.

Daylight revealed their surroundings. The room was small, with only one window, thinly curtained against the morning sun. The light that filtered through revealed furnishingsthat were both primitive and sparse.

"Where are we?" she asked, her eyes returning to his face.

The angle of that diffused sunlight seemed to emphasize the cruel line of the scar. It didn't detract from his looks, she decided. Without it, they might even have been too refined.Too much the proper English gentleman.

The mark added a certain dangerous appeal to the classically handsome features. She knew, of course, that her assessment of its effect would not be the same as his. Even if the man were totally lacking in vanity, the manner of the scar's acquisition would guarantee it would be despised.

"Someplace where you'll be safe," he said."At least for the time being."

Safe?Safe from... ?Julian.

At the realization that her guardian would surely be looking for her, she put her hands against the mattress, pushing up too quickly. Then she lowered her head, closing her eyes as she fought the resulting flood of vertigo.

Sebastian's arm came around her, offering support. For the moment, she was forced to accept it, leaning weakly against his chest, too disoriented to do anything else.

As soon as the worst had passed, she straightened, pushing away from that impersonal embrace. He released her immediately.

"Why did you do this?" she whispered, searching his face. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I told you," he said.

Despite their color, his eyes seemed dark and very cold. But then, his purpose in taking her was both.

He had told her last night exactly what it was.

I need you, he had said.To lure your guardian to his death.

"When I've killed him," he went on, "I promise to convey you to your family."

"I have no family," she said bitterly. "Julianhas already seen to that."

His eyes narrowed. She could almost read his horror in them. "Are you saying that your guardian--"

"I tried to tell you," she interrupted, feeling her anger build again because he hadn't listened. Now, when it seemed he was willing to, it was far too late. "You refuse to believe what he's capable of."

There was a small silence, and then he broke it, his tone completely different.As biting as hers.

"Believeme, I know what he's capable of. The day after the king's reception, your guardian set a trap.

It was intended for me, but one of my friends stumbled into it instead."

The day after the reception.Which meant that whateverJulian had done was the result of her foolish escapade in the garden.

"I should never have left the ballroom," she whispered. "If there is one thing I've learned--"

She stopped because it was painfully obvious she had not learned, despiteJulian's repeated attempts to teach her, the uselessness of rebellion. Instead, she had dared to slip away from the reception, enjoying what she had convinced herself would be a brief, harmless interlude.

She should have known that nothing like that moment of freedom could ever be harmless where she was concerned. After all,Julian had done everything in his power to teach her.

After her father's death, he had tightened his control over every aspect of her life. Eventually her pride had rebelled against his restrictions.

That had led to her attempted escape. The one during which she had met this man and discovered that, even if she were willing to die rather than surrender toJulian's control, she was incapable of sacrificing anyone else to that goal.

When she had thought her disobedience would cost the English soldier his life, she had beggedJulian for it.Since her guardian had enjoyed seeing her reduced to the role of supplicant, Sebastian Sinclair had not died that day.

Now, again because of her foolishness, another man had. That was the triumphJulian had been taking such delight in the past two days, she realized. Someone had paid the ultimate price for her disappearance from an overcrowded ballroom. And this time she had not been given a chance to beg Julian to spare that life.

"What did he do?" she asked, not because she wanted to know, but because each piece of treachery painted a clearer portrait, if she needed one, of her guardian's soullessness.

"Your maid delivered your message through a peddler who calls here as well as at Delgado's."

"My message?" she repeated. She had sent no messages. But of course, Anna would do anythingJulian told her to do. Any of the servants who worked for him would. "I promise you that I never--"

"It was meant for me," he continued, without allowing her to complete the denial, "but to protect me, my friend intercepted it. He went to meet you in my stead."

"In...acemetery," she guessed, finally making sense of the accusation he'd thrown at her last night. "I knew nothing about that, I swear to you."

"Someone was there when he arrived.Someone wearing a woman's cloak."

Anna? The maid had asked for permission to go to confession the day after the reception.Pilar had never thought of refusing.

"Given this," Sebastian said, long fingers lifting to touch the scarJulian had slashed across his face, "it must have become obvious at some point that Harry wasn't his intended victim. Your guardian killed him all the same."

Another death that might be laid at her door.Just as Sebastian Sinclair's would eventually be.

"No life butJulian's has value to him," she said. "If he wants something, he is absolutely ruthless in the acquisition of it. God help anyone who gets in his way."

"Is that what happened to your family? They got in his way?"

It was, of course, but she hadn't realized that until much later. And unlessJulian chose one day to taunt her with the knowledge, she would never know if her father had understood why he had to die.

"My mother died when I was born. Despite a great deal of pressure from his family, my father never remarried."

None of them could understand that refusal, but none of them had witnessed, as she had, his profound and lifelong grief. She believed he was still grieving the loss of her mother on the day he'd died.

That was the only thing that had given her any peace whenJulian had told her about her father's death--the idea that they would at last be reunited.

It was that thought alone that had kept her sane when she had finally realized whatJulian had done and why he had done it.

"My father had dedicated himself to riddingSpain of the French domination. That's how he became involved withJulian . Given their positions, their paths would never have crossed, except for the war."

"Their positions?"

"My father was a grandee. TheCondedel Castillo. Bonaparte abolished the designation, but he couldn't abolish the years of power and influence behind it.Julian was a minorhidalgo . Only in the cause of independence would they have ever become friends.

"They did, because my father admired him both as a soldier and a patriot. He didn't suspect the kind of manJulian was or he would never have brought him to our home. WhenJulian saw me, he decided that I would make the perfect wife for him. My father... didn't agree."

Although she had known nothing about Delgado, other than his friendship with her father and his avowed dedication to their mutual cause, there had been something about him that had made her view the possibility of such a union with near loathing. Without even consulting her, however, her father had refused the offer, having no intention of seeing her wed to a common soldier. Neither of them had understood then thatJulian could not endure to be refused. Not anything.

"My father's dedication to his king and his country were based on his family's long loyalty and service to the crown.Julian , on the other hand..."

Even now it was difficult for her to articulate what he had done. If the Englishman were to have any chance at all in this insane quest, however, he had to know everything.

"Julianis an opportunist. Had he believed Napoleon could hope to maintain control ofIberia , I have no doubt he would have backed the other side. It's possible he did that in the early years of the war. Then he came to the realization that the French would eventually be driven out.And, far more important for him, to the realization that those who helped to bring about their defeat would be suitably rewarded."

"As he has been," Sebastian said.

She lifted her eyes, shutting out those painful images from the past. For the first time she noticed the signs of exhaustion in his face. The skin under his eyes was dark with fatigue. Of course, since he had kept watch over her all night...

The memory of that vigil touched her. It had been a long time since anyone had been truly concerned about her well-being. Those who were expected to care for her now did so, not out of love or even loyalty, but out of fear.

"He has the king's favor," she said, "but he has not yet been rewarded to the extent he expects to be.

That's why my father had to die."

Julianhad made it seem as if her father's death had nothing to do with his proposal. Even then, even before she had come to understand the kind of man he was, she had known in her heart that he was somehow responsible.

"Delgado killed him?"

"In the midst of a war it's easy to rid yourself of someone who stands in the way of what you want."

She took a breath, remembering her shock the day she had listened toJulian's explanation of her father's death and his supposed dying wish for her future. "Julianclaimed that before he died, my father appointed him my guardian. He produced a document to that effect, although..."

The words faded. She had been convinced that the wavering signature had been forged or--and the thought of this was far more horrifying--that it had been obtained by force.

Since her father was dead and conveniently unable to dispute the claim, however, the document had been accepted as authentic.Julian had gotten his way. He always did.

"My father's death gaveJulian the opportunity he needed. He took over the army my father had raised, and he used it to great effect in the waning days of the war. Then, as soon as the king was restored to the throne, he began his petitions. He's been promised his answer in a matter of weeks. Considering the king's gratitude, what that answer will be is a foregone conclusion."

"Petitioning the king for what?"

The Englishman couldn't possibly have followed that part of her explanation, she realized. Not without knowing something of the men who were involved, as well as the laws governing inheritances.

"For permission to marry his ward, of course.And in doing so, to inherit the lands and titles that belonged to her father, Antonio RafaelLazaro Mendoza deCovadonga ,Condedel Castillo. You didn't imagineJulian wanted to marry me for love, did you?"

She had told him that in the garden. She had believed then she would never see this man again, so she hadn't tried to explain the complicated motivations that drove Delgado.

"Don't worry, Captain Sinclair. Wealth is a much greater enticement toJulian than love. He'll do what you want. He'll come after me because, if he doesn't, he stands to lose a great deal. Or perhaps I should say,he'll come after you. And when he finds you, he'll do exactly what I convinced him not to do that day by the river. He'll kill you as slowly and as painfully as he possibly can."

"I think he can be trusted," Sebastian said. "I've paid him enough to assure his silence, but..."

"You want me to keep an eye on things,"Malford said. "See to it that he doesn't leave the house."

"And especially that he doesn't send a message to anyone outside it."

Last night it had seemed he had no choice in trusting the cook. He had felt then that bringingPilar here was a reasonable solution. In the light of day, however, he had realized there were a great number of things that could go wrong.

The cook's reluctance to give him the fishmonger's name might well speak to his ability to keep his mouth shut, but an offer of money had loosened his tongue quickly enough. And he imagined Delgado had much more with which to bargain than he had.

"I'll look sharp," Harry's batman promised. "Don't you worry on that score, CaptainSinclair. You concentrate on finding the bastard that killed LordWetherly ."

"Good man," Sebastian said, gripping his shoulder.

Malfordwas the ideal conspirator, virtually without duties now that his master was dead, and with his own grudge against Harry's murderer. It had taken Sebastian only a few minutes of mental debate to decide to let the batman in on what was going on. He would certainly be more trustworthy than the accomplice who had been thrust upon him last night.

"Oh,"Malford said, turning back after he had gone part of the way down the passage that led to the kitchens. "I almost forgot. His Grace is looking for you.Sent word near half an hour ago."

Sebastian's response to that information was the same as when one of the masters at school had sent for him, magnified perhaps a hundredfold. A cold dread settled in the pit of his stomach like a stone.

He thought of askingMalford if he had any idea what the summons was about.Only the knowledge that, even ifWellingtonhad somehow learned what was going on, he would have to face the accounting prevented him.

"Thank you," he said instead.

He watched until the batman had disappeared, and then, running his finger around the collar of his uniform, which seemed to have tightened against his throat, he turned and headed upstairs. If the duke had been waiting for half an hour, any further delay could only exacerbate his always uncertain temper.

Even ifWellington had no idea what Sebastian had done, he was probably in for an unpleasant few minutes. If the duke had somehow gotten word that one of his officers had kidnapped the ward of the Spanish king's favorite...

Then being late was going to be the least of his problems, Sebastian acknowledged.The very least.

"Captain Sinclair,"Wellington said, looking up from the papers spread across the surface of his desk.

Sebastian was experienced enough with the moods of his commander to know that the tone didn't connote displeasure, and the knot that had settled in his stomach began to dissolve. Whatever this was about, it wasn't the disaster he'd been anticipating.

"Your grace?"

"I received some news this morning that I thought you would be interested in. It concerns the subject we discussed privately the last time we met," the duke said somewhat cryptically.

"LordWetherly's death," Sebastian said, refusing to avoid a direct reference to the topic.

"In a way.I've inquired, of course, but it seems there were no witnesses to what took place in the church yard of Santa Maria de la Rosa that afternoon."

It would be the rare murder that was carried out in front of witnesses, of course, but Sebastian refrained from pointing out the obvious.

"No, my news concerns the Spanish gentleman we spoke of," the duke continued.

"JulianDelgado."

"Who is to be, it seems, His Majesty's ambassador to the court of his royal cousin, Louis of France.