HOW TO TREAT A LADY.

KAREN HAWKINS.

They say the St. John talisman ring was made

by the fairies and given to the handsomest man in all England, one Sir Gervase St. John. The fairies spelled that ring so that whoever held it should fall madly in love. How I would love to find me a ring like that!

Madame Blanchard, Lady Birlingtonas French dresser, to her mistress, while doing maladyas hair for a ball at Marchmont.

Chapter 1.

Trust her? Ha! I wouldnat let that woman come within ten feet of me without first counting all my b.u.t.tons and beads.

Lady Birlington to Viscountess Hunterston after encountering Lady Caroline Lamb in the hallway at Marchmont Money, or the lack of it, haunted him. Oh, not because he had so little. He was, in fact, very wealthy. It was the beggarliness of his companion that caused him the most pain.

Chase St. John reached into his pocket and withdrew a folded stack of banknotes. He placed it on the table and slid it across the smooth surface. aThere. As you requested.a Harry Annesley placed his fingertips on the notes, but then hesitated. aYou know how I hate this. If only my fatheras solicitor could see clear of releasing my funds, I wouldnat be reduced to asking you for a.s.sistance.a Annesley managed an embarra.s.sed smile and lifted his shoulders as if to ask how he could possibly clear the way himself.

At one time, Chase would have believed the convincing lies. At one time, he might have even been moved to induce his jovial friend to take the money. To insist, even. But those times were long gone.

And they were never to return.

Chase reached forward, his hand sliding over the table toward the money. aIf you donat want the money, thena"a Annesleyas hand closed convulsively over the folded notes.

aWell.a Chase leaned back in his chair. aThat answers that. And much too clearly for my liking.a Though Annesleyas expression darkened, he quickly collected the notes and tucked them into his pocket. aYou did offer.a aI always offer. And you always ask for more. It has become a bad habit between the two of us. One that must stop.a A small smile crossed Annesleyas face. aWeave been through a lot together.a He looked at Chase meaningfully. aMore than most people know.a It was a threat. Low and oily, as despicable as the man who uttered the words. Despite his disappointment, Chase managed to shrug. aI have to give you credit; you are a h.e.l.l of an actor. At one time, I thought you were genuinely my friend.a aI am your friend.a aNo. You are friends with my bank account. Not with me.a Annesley made a face. aI donat know whatas come over you today, but you seem to think Iave committed some breach of etiquette ora"a aI donat think anything,a Chase said without rancor. aI know. I know who and what you are.a Annesley met Chaseas gaze for a long moment. They were at Whiteas, that most exclusive of menas clubs, and all around them buzzed an aura of respectability. Leather chairs sat scattered around heavy mahogany tables, the quiet clink of silver and the murmur of voices adding an air of unreality.

Chase wondered what fool had sponsored Harry Annesleyas membership, then decided that he didnat really care. aI made a decision last night and Iam done. The next time you need funds, youall have to look elsewhere.a aWhat do you mean?a aIam leaving London. And I donat plan on returning.a aWhy? The season begins in a week.a aI donat care. And Iam not just leaving London; Iam leaving England.a Chase reached over and signed the bill left on the table by the waiter before Annesley had even arrived. aI donat know where Iall go. Maybe Italy. Maybe not.a aItaly? What a foolish idea. Italy is far away, and everything you care about is here wherea"a aYes, Italy is far away. So far away that you will not be able to aborrowa any more funds. Youall have to find another pigeon to pluck.a Annesleyas shoulders stiffened. aI resent that.a Chase lifted a brow. aNo,a he said slowly, considering the man before him, ayou donat resent it at all. But you should, for I meant it in the worst way possible.a For a moment, Chase thought Annesley would leap for him. Chase rather hoped that he woulda"it would give Chase the opportunity to pummel the rogue into a smear of blood, bone, and desolation.

But the b.a.s.t.a.r.d didnat even have the pride to do that. Instead, he clamped his mouth into a thin line, his lips turning white.

Chase waited, ready for anything.

After a moment, Annesley relaxed with a deep sigh, then leaned back in the brown leather chair and crossed his arms over his chest. aWhat happened, St. John? What has turned you?a It was an admission, those simple words. Chase accepted them as such. aItas the strangest thing, Annesley. Last week, when I let you aborrowa that thousand pounds, I did a little math. I realized that Iave let you aborrowa over five thousand pounds in the last two months alone.a His gaze dropped to Annesleyas pocket. aMake that six thousand.a The b.a.s.t.a.r.das smile never slipped. Instead, he shrugged. aThatas what friends are for, isnat it? To help one another.a aBefore the accident, you never aborroweda anything. Oh, I put out more than my fair share for our amus.e.m.e.nts. But that changed after the accident. Since then, youave attempted to bleed me dry and you know it well.a Harry scowled. aWhat I didnat pay back in funds, I paid back in friendship.a aHow? By encouraging me to drink? By gaining me entrance into all the worst gaming h.e.l.ls in London? By insisting that I forget who and what I am until I finallya"a Chase clamped his mouth closed, a dull roar behind his ears. For a second, an image flashed before his eyesa of a rain-wet street. Of his carriage careening drunkenly out of control. Of the startled face of a girl as he rounded the corner, her large dark eyes widened in fear as his carriagea"aNo!a G.o.d help him but he didnat want to remember that. Not now. Not ever.

Annesley motioned for a waiter to bring a bottle of port. As soon as it arrived, he poured some in Chaseas gla.s.s and silently slid it forward.

Chase took a harsh gulp. Then another.

aIam sorry, St. John. Iam sorry about it all. Butaa Annesley filled his own gla.s.s. aI am not the one who ran over an innocent woman.a The words, said so softly, hung in the smoky room, lingering about Chaseas head like a swirl of tepid air. Chaseas chest tightened, and he had consciously to unclench his teeth before he could speak.

Harry waved a hand. aNor have I forced you to do anythinga"not the drinking, the gambling, none of it. Everything that you have done has been of your own free will.a aI know,a Chase gritted out. aI take full responsibility for my actions. Itas my fault I drank too much. Itas my fault I was driving my carriage at such a speed. Itas all my fault. But itas your fault for blackmailing me ever since.a Annesley eyed him for a long moment. aBlackmail is such an ugly word. All I said was that I canat imagine what your brother Marcus would say if he knew about that particular incident.a The manas gaze hardened. aThat you killed that woman.a Chaseas throat ached at the words. For all they knew, she wasnat dead. It was possible shead survived, possible buta"

No. The woman was dead. He was certain of it. And though head tried to drown his sorrow and hide from his responsibilities, the time had come to face facts. He was a St. John, and baG.o.d, it was time he remembered it.

Annesley tilted his head to one side. aYou will tell your brothers before you leave?a Chase could almost see his oldest brother, Marcus, stern and forbidding, disappointment etched in his eyes. And for a second, Chase wavered. It would be so easy just to pretend he hadnat awakened to what his good friend, Harry Annesley, really was. If he could only pretend that nothing bad had happened on that night a year ago.

But he was through pretending. His stomach, and his sense of honor, would have no less. aI will send them a letter explaining all, once I have settled on the Continent.a It would be h.e.l.l, writing that letter. But it had to be done; he owed his family that much. They cared for him, believed him better than head ever been.

He met Annesleyas knowing gaze unflinchingly. aNot that itas any concern of yours.a Annesley looked down at his perfectly pared nails. aIsnat it?a Chaseas jaw tightened until it ached. He asked himself how the h.e.l.l he had been so foolish as to believe that Harry Annesley was an amusing companion. Chase knew the answera"brandy. And more brandy. In the months since the accident, head seen the bottom of more decanters than he could count. aMarcus is a very intelligent man. I daresay he knows my sins already. Iave never been able to keep a secret from him, even when I was a child.a Annesley suddenly smiled, a deep dimple appearing in his right cheek. aAnd youave had so many secretsa This, I think, is different.a It was all Chase could do not to grab the slimy b.a.s.t.a.r.d by the throat and toss him across the room. But that would just cause more talk, and there was going to be enough of that already. Most of society thought Harry Annesley a handsome, well-turned-out man, always impeccably dressed and perfectly behaved. If they only knew.

Chase shoved his chair from the table and stood. aItas done. Iam leaving tonight.a Annesleyas smile slipped. aBut St. Johna"a aGo to h.e.l.l. If you are going to tell my brothers, then do so. Here, I will even make it easy for you. Brandon is still on his honeymoon, but will return tomorrow. Marcus and Anthony were to visit Tattersailas. And Devon is at Gentleman Jacksonas Boxing Saloon. Shall I call for your carriage? If you hurry, you might catch Devon, at least.a Annesley leaned back in his chair, a flash of contempt on his changeable face. aYouall regret this, you know.a aConsidering all I have to regret, this is negligible. Good-bye, Annesley. And good riddance.a Chase turned on his heel and left. The second he was outside, he stopped, lifted his face to the cooling breeze, and took a long, deep breath.

Around him, London trembled and toiled, carriages clattered down the streets, linkboys shouted, people scurried by, heads tucked against the swirl of dust and grit that lingered in the air. It was London in the spring, awakening after a long and bitter cold and shaking off the fetid fumes of a freezing winter held at bay with grim determination and tons of bleak coal fumes.

As ugly as it was, it was still home. Still where head grown up. It was a pity he had to leave it all behind. London and his family. His chest curiously tight, Chase turned and walked down the street, away from Whiteas. Away from his lodgings. Away from everything and everyone head ever known.

And it was only the beginning. If he was to make this journey successfully, he had to face both himself and his past. And face it, he would. One way or another.

At Whiteas, still comfortably seated at the table, Harry Annesley sipped his port and stared at the empty chair opposite his. Chase St. John was right about one thinga"Harry Annesley was not what he seemed. Despite his fine clothing and his practiced ways, he was not a wealthy man at all. He was not from Wiltshire. Head never inherited a house from his uncle. And his fortune was not tied up in a legal dispute. Nor had his father left him anything more than a pile of duns and a childhood of memories tainted by bruises and blood.

Harry had made his way on his wits and charm alone, watching with interest the rise of a man named Beau Brummel, the son of a tailor whoad breached the highest echelons of society with nothing more than his biting wit and impeccable dress. Harry thought that he could go one better, forging letters of introduction to gain entrance into places like Whiteas and Almackas. He was accepted, but only because he was a personable young man and because he made it his business to know just how to dress and exactly how to act.

At first, Harry confined himself to married women who had access to their husbandsa fortunes and were not averse, in exchange for certain favors, to making sure Harryas rent was paid and his wardrobe developed to the highest degree. Careful never to cross the lines of propriety, at least while in public, he became the preferred escort of half the married ladies of the ton, whose tolerant husbands would demand to know who their wives were going to the ball with, only to receive an airy, aOh, itas only Harry Annesley,a which earned an indulgent, aWell, then, madam. You may go. So long as itas Harry and no one else.a The comments, though they allowed him access to places he normally wouldnat have been allowed, burned through Harryas heart, for they proved over and over again that he was not as important as he wished, no matter how he dressed. He became more determined to succeed in the society that only allowed him to stand at its edges.

But to reach those heights, he would have to establish himself well enough that he could marry the woman of his choicea"someone wealthy, well connected, and desirable. Harry thought he knew such a woman, the daughter of a wealthy viscount. Harry had been flirting with her for a sennight, and he thought he detected some feeling in her gaze.

Not that it mattered. She was necessary only to cement his place in the society to which he belonged, and nothing else. He looked into his gla.s.s and sighed. It was one of the great ironic facts of the ton that wealth tended to marry wealth. And Harry, for all his scheming, didnat have the funds it would take to convince the protective papa of a tender young heiress that he was an eligible parti.

Head considered an elopement, but that was too cra.s.s and could cause him to be ostracized from the very society he wished to enter. No, he wanted to be welcomed into the family he chose. Welcomed as an equal. And that would take some serious funding.

The desire had grown into an obsession. Harry ate, drank, slept, and dreamed of it. Though until head met Chase St. John a year ago, he hadnat known how to gain the entrance he so desired. How to get the large amount of funds he so desperately needed.

It was a pity Chase had suddenly developed a conscience. aUtterly inconvenient,a Harry murmured into his gla.s.s.

A waiter stopped and quietly asked if anything else would be needed. Harry shook his head impatiently and waved the man away. The waiter bowed respectfully and reached for the bill that Chase St. John had signed not ten minutes earlier. Harryas eyes were drawn to the bill. aWait.a The waiter stopped, waiting politely. aYes, sir?a aLeave that. I may want something more after all.a aOf course, sir.a The waiter bowed, then left. Harry reached over and picked up the bill, looking at the flourishing signature for a long moment. Slowly, by barely discernible degrees, a smile touched his lips. Chase St. John might be leaving London, but his brothers would still be there. And for a while, at least, they wouldnat know the whereabouts of their beloved younger brother. It was just the opportunity Harry needed.

aYes, indeed,a he said, folding the bill in half. aI shall have to thank my dear friend Chase, after all.a He tucked the bill into the same pocket head tucked the banknotes and, whistling softly, finished his port and called for his coat. Within moments, he had left the club and was making his way to his lodgings on 10th Street.

It took a lot to get a man like Harry Annesley down. He refused to give up hope. Thank G.o.d there was more than one way to pluck a pigeon. Especially one as wealthy as Chase St. John. Whistling absently to himself, Harry made his way down the crowded street, his hat set at a jaunty angle, no sign of his concerns on his handsome face.

Chapter 2.

I heard she wished to be buried in her lilac morning gown, as it would have gone well with the silk lining of the casket. But her family refused, saying it was a bit daring in the neckline.

You know, when one is dead, one should be able to wear what one b.l.o.o.d.y well pleases.

Viscountess Hunterston to Lady Birlington while attending the funeral of Lady Agatha Tallwell, who was neither tall nor particularly well.

aIam going to retch.a Harriet Ward cast a fulminating glance at her sister. aSophia, if you retch in this cart, I will personally tell everyone we know about the entire experience. And I will spare none of the horrid details.a Sophia pressed a hand to her cheek and said with all the false tenor of a threepenny actress from Drury Lane, aI am ill, and yet you mock me. You are cruel.a aI am not,a Harriet said, noting that though her sister tried to appear ill in the bright sunshine, she looked anything but. Sophia, for all her high-flown wiles and die-away airs, was amazingly healthy and had never suffered more than a cold in her entire life.

aWell I think you are cruel, and so does Ophelia.a From where she sat on the backbench of the cart, Ophelia snorted. aDonat involve me, Sophia. I shall agree with Harriet, as you well know.a Sophia cast a look of blazing indignation at their youngest sister.

Ophelia calmly patted Max, an enormous dog who was a solid mix of working sheepdog and family pet. aSoph, donat shoot dagger glances at either of us. Harriet and I were perfectly happy riding to town alone. But no. You had to come. And you kept us waiting while you looked for your bonnet. And now, here we all are, listening to you complain. So I hope you do retch, only not in my direction.a Sophia gasped and opened her mouth to retort, so Harriet hurriedly said, aEnough, the both of you. I am in no mood to witness either retching or complaining. Besides, such commotion could upset the sheep.a She glanced over her shoulder at the three ewes riding in the back of the cart, bleating piteously. It was a shame they had to be sold, but the Wards needed the funds to pay for extra help during shearing season.

aI donat care about upsetting the sheep. In fact, the sheep,a Sophia said in a grand voice, aare upsetting me.a aHow?a aThey smell.a aTheyare sheep,a Ophelia piped up, adjusting her spectacles on the bridge of her nose. Younger and plumper than either of her sisters, shead always been something of a bookish sort of girl. Though lately shead discovered the wonders of the barn and had developed an unfortunate tenderness for the sheep, treating them as pets.

Harriet thought it was a good thing that theyad gotten sheep in order to collect wool and not to make lamb chopsa"Opheliaas soft heart would not have allowed for such a thing. Within two weeks of purchasing the flock, Ophelia had named them all and then, to make matters worse, had insisted upon tying ribbons around their ears.

Fortunately, Ophelia had ceased this unworthy practice when she realized that the other sheep were not only unimpressed with such vivid decoration, but thought of the ribbons as tasty treats. She turned to her sister. aSophia, sheep canat help how they smell, but youaa She sniffed the air, then scrunched her pert nose. aWhat is that horrid odor? You smell like Grandmother Elbert, all musty and old anda"a aWhat?a Sophiaas cheeks reddened. aI donat smell like Grandma Elbert! Itas the eau de cologne Mother got me last Christmas, and it is very expensive.a aI donat know what it cost, but if it was more than a pence, she was sadly cheated.a aOh!a Sophia said, twisting in her seat to glare at her younger sister. aAt least I donat smell like a sheep, unlike some people I could name who spend all their spare time lingering in the barn as if they were a resident!a Opheliaas chin jutted, her brown eyes flashing behind the round gla.s.s of her spectacles. aJust what do you mean by that?a Harriet stifled a sigh. There was only one thing worse than driving a smelly hay cart to market, and that was driving a smelly hay cart filled with even smellier sheep, a large damp-scented dog, and two bickering sisters. aStop it, the both of you! Youare upsetting the sheep.a aWhat do the sheep matter?a Sophia asked, momentarily distracted from irking Ophelia.

aThey matter a lot, and you know it. I want our sheep to look like the best, most pleasant-natured sheep on earth.a Anything to get a good price. G.o.d knew they needed it.

Sophia looked over her shoulder and regarded the sheep with a dubious air. aI donat know how you could tell if they were upset. They all look the same to me. Very woolly andaa She tilted her head. aPerhaps they do look as if they have a mood. But itas not a good one.a aNonsense,a Ophelia said stoutly. aTheyare happy sheep. You can tell.a aHow?a Sophia demanded.

Ophelia regarded the ewes for a moment, then suddenly broke into a huge grin. aMaybe you can tell theyare happy sheep because they donat feel baaaaad.a Harriet winced as the other two giggled uncontrollably. aOphelia, between you and Derrick, Iave had more than I can take.a Derrick was their younger brother, and at age sixteen bid fair to become the wittiest of the Ward family, a high honor indeed.

Sophia adjusted the pretty blue ribbons fastened to her old bonnet. aIam sorry, Harriet. I shouldnat laugh, but Ophelia does that so well.a Ophelia grinned, twin dimples in her round cheeks. aI do, donat I? Sorry I made such a baaaaaad joke.a One of the sheep in the back of the cart lifted its head and answered.

Sophia chuckled. aYou bleat even better than the sheep.a aYou have your own gifts,a Ophelia said in return, no sign of her earlier rancor. aYou should be on a stage. No one can do Juliet like you.a Sophiaas face burned with pleasure. She tilted her pretty face to the sky and placed her hand to her brow. aWhatas here? A cup, closed in my true loveas hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless enda"a As if in great pain, a sheep bleated loudly while Max the dog shuffled in a circle, obviously anxious to get out of the cart. Ophelia giggled and even Harriet had to stifle a grin.

Sophiaas face suffused with color. aI was not made for such conditions.a aNone of us was,a Harriet said dryly, hawing the horse to a trot. aI was not made to drive a smelly hay cart, either.a aI know what you were made for,a Sophia said with a smug smile. aCaptain John Frakenham.a Harriet stiffened. aDo not mention that name to me!a Sophia and Ophelia exchanged amused glances.

aI donat want to hear another word,a Harriet said firmly. aAnd if I do, youall walk the rest of the way to town.a Ophelia leaned forward to whisper loudly to Sophia. aHarriet is always ill-tempered when Captain Frakenham is not in port.a aIndeed. Sheas pining for him. For his manly arms and his broad chesta"a aEnough!a Harriet frowned. aWhat was Mother thinking?a Sophia sighed. aOh, she was just trying to save Garrett Park. If she hadnat convinced the bank that you had a wealthy suitor on his way home from sea with trunks of gold, theyad have never allowed us time to gather the wool for the payment.a Harriet silently admitted that Sophia was right. Mr. Gower, the new officer at the bank, had unexpectedly arrived at Garrett Park one late afternoon with a rather unpleasantly worded demand for funds. Motheras usual good sense had been sorely muddled by a large dose of laudanum shead just taken for an aching tooth, and with a sense of pure panic, shead launched into a disjointed, but apparently convincing story of how the money would shortly arrive in the form of a wealthy sea captain, who would also claim her oldest daughter for his own.

Harriet was quite certain Mother had stolen the idea from a lending library novel. Still, the colorful fib had served its purpose; the bank had granted the extension.

Sophia clasped her hands together and sighed dreamily. aCaptain Frakenham is the most handsome man in the world.a aAnd the wealthiest,a Ophelia added with a mischievous grin. aFrom what Iave heard, he has as much money as the Prince. Maybe more!a aPiffle!a Harriet snapped. Motheras little fib wouldnat have been so bad had everyone politely ignored it. After all, the family only needed three more months and theyad have the last payment for the mortgage.

What Mother hadnat thought ofa"what no one had seen or planned upona"was that the bank officials, given the few details Mother had managed to mumble through her numbed lips, had gone home and repeated every word to their willing wives. And those worthy women had, of course, mentioned the matter to a few women at the Church Fund Meeting. And those women had mentioned it to their friends, neighbors, sisters, and daughters, and so on and so forth until the entire town came to hear of the mysterious Captain Frakenham.

As the story was told and retold, pa.s.sing over the anxious tongues of every gossipmonger in town, actual details had appeared. Details like the fact that the captain was tall, dark, and handsome. And that Harriet was heartbroken if by some strange mischance he didnat write one of his weekly epistles. And that the worthy captain was an orphan who had raised himself by his bootstraps from the humblest of beginnings and had found untold wealth in sailing the seas of India and beyond.

Each new rumor added to the credibility of the whole, until Captain Frakenham was as real to the people of Sticklye-By-The-River as the butcher who sold meat from his shop on the corner. Except to the Wards, of course. They knew better.

aI wish there really was a Captain John,a Sophia said, giving a blissful sigh. aHeas absolutely perfect.a Ophelia nodded, her round face wreathed with a dreamy smile. aThick black hair and the bluest eyesa"a aBlue eyes? Who told you that?a Harriet demanded.

aCharlotte Strickton. I met her in town the other day and she said shead heard it from the parsonas wife.a Blast it all, this whole thing was entirely out of control.

aIam glad Iam not so shallow,a Sophia said loftily. aI value the captain for his bravery and not his looks. When I think of all the adventures heas had, I feel faint witha"a aOh for the love ofa"a Harriet snapped an exasperated look at her sisters. aThere is no Captain Frakenham!a aWe know,a Ophelia said, looking amazed.

aOf course we do,a Sophia added with an innocent blink of her long lashes. aReally, Harriet, you are too serious.a aIt annoys me the way everyone is treating me differently now that Iam supposedly affianced. Iam not affianced, and I never will be.a Sophia shook her head. aNonsense. One day, the right man will come along, and youall change your mind.a Harriet wasnat so sure. In all her twenty-four years, shead never met a single man who had managed to make her feel anything more than acute irritation. It was a lowering thought, but not one shead willingly share with her talkative siblings. aI, for one, was not born to become some manas wife.a Ophelia blinked owlishly through her spectacles. aWhat were you born for?a aI was born to enjoy life, to lie in bed all day while eating bonbons and drinking hot chocolate. But somehow, fate has forgotten me, and so here I am.a Sophia eyed her elder sister with some awe. aBonbons in bed. I like that. Anything better than these sheep, which smell even if Ophelia is too thickheaded to admit it.a aI know they smell,a Ophelia said in an offended tone. aBut they cannot help it and I, unlike you, am not about to berate them for it.a aWhat we really smell is not sheep,a Harriet said before the two could start up again, abut profit. Extra funds that will enable us to replace Stephen for the shearing.a aPoor Stephen,a Ophelia said, her eyes darkening in pity.

Sophia sniffed. aIt was his own fault. I donat know what he was thinking, swinging from the barn loft on a rope like that. Heas eighteen and far too old for such behavior. And he certainly has no right to upset Mother in such a way.a aHe was trying to impress Miss Strickton,a Harriet said. aWhich Iam certain he did when the rope came untied and he went crashing into the barn wall.a Sophia giggled. aI wish I could have seen that.a aMe, too.a Ophelia chuckled. aPerhaps we can get Charlotte to tell us the tale when next we see her.a Though Harriet understood her sistersa amus.e.m.e.nt at the thought of their pompous older brotheras woes, she found that she could only manage a faint smile. That little rope trick had not only cost them precious time repairing the barn, but had also put Stephen out of service for the next two months, right when she needed him the most.

Harriet turned the cart down a narrow dirt road that was lined on one side by pleasant fields, a copse of trees on the other. They rounded a corner and Harriet hastily pulled the cart to a halt. aGoodness!a aWhat is wroa"a Sophiaas eyes widened.

A beautiful black horse stood to one side of the narrow lane, head lowered, sides heaving, his hide flecked with foam.

aGood heavens,a Harriet said, setting the brake. She gathered her skirts and climbed down from the seat, making the last hop into the dirt road. aWhose horse could this be?a Ophelia stood, rising on her tiptoes, her bonnet sliding back off her head to reveal a collection of thick brown curls. aWhat a beautiful animal!a She clambered to the side of the cart and hopped down, her booted feet clomping pleasantly on the hard dirt surface. Max followed her from the cart, his large head coming to her elbow as he trailed along.

The horse shied at the approaching dog. aOh, piffle,a Harriet said. aKeep Max away.a aSit,a Ophelia said to Max. The dog reluctantly dropped to his haunches and didnat move. Max was a boon and a blessing to the Wards. He was a natural sheepdog, having been raised with the last batch of lambs. He made the barn his home just as they did. Even slept in the same stall when it rained. For this reason, the sheep trusted him implicitly, and it was no wonder; no stray dogs had ever managed to get a lamb or sheep that was under Maxas care. For that alone, he was worth his weight in gold.

Sophia eyed the horse with an interested gaze. aHeas beautiful. Whoever owns that horse must be mad to find him.a Ophelia snorted her disbelief. aWhoever owns this horse is probably laying in the mud somewhere. See how the stirrups are twisted? Iad say the owner took a rather violent fall.a Harriet took a step forward, then slowly reached for the reins. The horse shied, backing warily out of reach, head lifted, eyes wild.

Harriet dropped her arms back to her side. aOphelia, you try. Youave a way with animals and this one is horribly frightened.a Ophelia walked slowly toward the horse, talking in a low, quiet voice. Though he made a tired show of tossing his head, this time he didnat move when approached. Ophelia reached out and easily caught the reins. aThere you go,a she crooned, patting the animalas neck.

aI wonder if heas one of the new horses Baron Whitfield just purchased,a Harriet said. aTie him to the back of the cart for now, and weall stop by there on the way to town.a Ophelia sighed. aI wish we could claim him. Wouldnat Stephen be so jealous if we founda"a BAM! The sharp sound cracked the air about them. The horse half reared, but Ophelia kept a tight grip on the reins. Max whirled to face the forest, his ears lifted.

aThat was a gunshot,a Sophia said into the silence that followed.

aIt certainly sounded like it,a Harriet said. aSomeone must be hunting nearby.a She climbed into her seat.

Max lifted his nose to the faint breeze and growled, his teeth flashing whitely. The sheep stirred uneasily.

Ophelia tied the horse to the back of the cart. aI wonder whatas wrong with Max? Do you think heas caught the scent of a wolf?a aJust keep him in check, for Iave no wish to go chasing him througha"a Before Harriet could finish the sentence, Max lunged forward, barking madly as he raced down the road. The sheep began to bleat loudly, urging him on.

aMax!a Harriet called, standing up and watching with a sinking heart as Max swerved off the road and disappeared into the woods. aOh, piffle! We have to catch that silly dog before someone shoots him. From a distance he looks just like a large deer.a Blast it all, it had seemed a fairly simple project that morning, to take three sheep to the market. Harriet tied off the reins and prepared once again to climb down from the cart, her irritation growing. aCome, Ophelia, you and I will gather Max. Sophia, you stay here until we return.a They were never going to make it to market. Never going to sell their sheep. And when the time to gather wool came, there would be no money to hire an extra hand, so they wouldnat be able to pay the bank, and Garrett Park would be lost forever.

aNot while Iam alive,a Harriet said through gritted teeth. She marched toward the woods, her booted feet slapping forcefully on the packed-dirt road, Ophelia trailing behind.

It was a furious way to die, the cause of madness and broken dreams. And Chase St. John had suffered enough of both to welcome the impending blackness.

One moment, he was riding down a narrow dirt lane, a supposed shortcut to the main road to Dover where he was to take a ship to the continent. He knew this area only a little; his brother Devon owned a manor house somewhere nearby, and Chase had once come to hunt. All he could remember of the experience was that it had rained the entire time.

It was rather ironic that today of all days, the weather was unusually perfecta"all blue sky and green, green hills. His new black gelding frolicked in the warm sun, a cool breeze lifted his hair, a bottle of good brandy at his lips. All told, it was a pleasant way to dull the homesickness that was already beginning to plague him at the thought of leaving his life in London. Of leaving his brothers and sister.

Trying to focus instead on the peaceful vista about him, he rode on, drinking more as the day progressed, his pain dulling. Head just rounded a bend in the road when, quick as a wink, his brandy-soaked peace was shattered. Mayhem ruled as bullets flew. Coa.r.s.e shouts a.s.sailed his muddled head, his horse bolted into the woods, then reared. A searing pain traced a fevered path across one temple.

He fell into alluring darkness. Sometime later, he slowly awoke to the sound of rough voices raised in disagreement. His a.s.sailants arguing over the rich contents of his purse and bags.

By tiny degrees, he became aware of the fact that he lay on the cool, damp dirt of the forest floor, left for dead if the blood that ran across his forehead and clouded his vision was any indication.

The earth chilled his cheek, the cloying smell of rotting leaves clung in his nostrils. He clenched his eyes even more tightly together and tried to move, gasping at the pain that flashed through his head, the heavy scent of brandy rising to meet him.

G.o.d, what he wouldnat give for more brandy. A keg of the stuff. Enough to dull the pain and halt the fear that was beginning to course through him.

The voices grew louder. Chase blinked through the haze of red, squinting against the bright sunlight that shivered through the leaves overhead. Brazen brigands, they were, to attack in broad daylight.

To one side, almost out of sight, he could just see them, two men hunched beside each other as they quarreled over his belongings. Chase tried to remember what head been carryinga"several large notes, some guineas, a gold watch, a few cravat pinsa nothing of real value. Not to him, anyway. Head been on his way to h.e.l.l, so head been traveling light. The last thing head wanted to do was load himself down with mementos that would only cause him more pain, more sadness.

One of the men stood, huge and hulking, lank brown hair that flopped in a greasy point over one eye. aThere. Thetas thet.a The other man stood. He was smaller and dressed in a faded red coat, the bottom edges stained and ragged. a aEre, now! Ye got more an I did!a a aTis me rightata get more. I planned this whole cull, did I not? Ever since we saw the gent come rackina into the inn and demanding a bottle of the keeperas best. I knew head be bosky afore noon.a The giant held something up to the sun, and a flash of sunlight rippled through the clearing.