"Come in." His voice was low and harsh, too harsh. Get control. They have no power over your son.

The threesome sailed into the room, with Angelene making a grand entrance with swoops and swishes of her skirts. Her voice could be heard complaining that someone was stepping on her train but Clayton blocked it out the best he could. Instead, he stood up and a.s.sumed an astonished mien. "Mr. Monteiro, I wasn't expecting you today."

Don Monteiro cast a sheepish glance at his daughter. "We felt it was best to clear up this matter as quickly as possible, Mr. Colburn."

Clayton raised an eyebrow. "I thought our conversation that night had concluded the matter. Dorian is not at home. I'm afraid this will have to be addressed some other time."

Don Monteiro cleared his throat, eyes darting about the room. "Angelene said"-he stared at a speck on the floor-"she, ah, said that your son agreed to wed her. Insisted it, you know."

Clayton felt a stab of sorrow for the man. His own children had found their mates and married in every appearance of happiness. He stared at the young woman determined to have his son. She was a dark beauty, to be sure. Wide, slanted cat's eyes, full crimson lips, high cheekbones, and thick black hair that coiled like shining ropes around her shoulders. Lord have mercy upon them all. How did his son get himself into such a predicament?

Just as he was about to despair how to answer, Hannah flew through the door as if on dove's wings. Clayton's heart settled back down, his breathing returned to normal. He smiled. His wife would know how to take care of this.

"Mr. Monteiro, so good of you to come!" Hannah tilted her elegant blonde head and smiled at the man, catching him off guard with her gaiety. He started to reach for her hand but Hannah turned her bright smile to Angelene. "Child," she muttered, her chin tilting down, her eyes turning soft and kind. "My dear child."

Clayton held his breath. What was she about?

Hannah reached out and took Angelene's stiff arm, squeezing her hand and coming up closer. "What a beauty you are. Just look at you!"

Angelene eyed Hannah in wide-eyed distrust. But she allowed herself to be drawn closer to Hannah's side. "We need to have a chat, you and I. Don't we, dear?"

Hannah reached up and patted Angelene's shoulder.

"Come now. I have a story to tell you. A story that I think you are going to like, very, very much." Hannah took a firm grasp on Angelene's gloved elbow and led her toward the door. She turned back to the men and smiled.

"Clayton, you entertain Mr. Monteiro and Pastor Higgins. Enjoy a ride or something? Angelene and I have so much to talk about."

"Now see here. What kind of story are you telling my daughter?" Monteiro's cheeks puffed out as he put his hands on his hips.

"Why, Mr. Monteiro, I'm only going to tell her of the first love story. How G.o.d made Eve as the perfect mate for Adam and how Angelene has an Adam out there somewhere."

Monteiro dropped his arms and nodded. "Oh. Well, that's alright then." He turned toward his daughter. "You listen to what Mrs. Colburn has to say."

Hannah tugged on her arm before she had time to react. "Would you like some tea, dear? I do believe Cook has those little pastries you're so fond of. Let's go and see, shall we?"

Hannah's coaxing voice faded down the hall. Clayton looked at Monteiro and grinned. "How about a little hunting? I heard geese overhead not an hour ago."

Don Monteiro shrugged a shoulder. "Sounds better than a wedding."

The three men chuckled as they quit the room.

Kendra set the bowl of boiled potatoes and turnips on the table and closed her eyes, dread filling her chest. Her aunt and uncle had cheerfully announced that they were to have a dinner guest this evening. The ident.i.ty of the person was a surprise they said, but Kendra was certain who it would be. After the conversation she'd overheard, she had been expecting just such a guest.

She turned back toward the kitchen to fetch the roasted duck. She and her aunt had spent the last two hours in the kitchen preparing the meal. The garden had begun to produce fresh vegetables and Uncle Franklin had even bestirred himself enough to go hunting. They'd been so pleased to see him return with two plump ducks, but the dread of seeing Martin Saunderson again had dampened any joy Kendra would have felt on this festive occasion.

"Do take off that ap.r.o.n and go and freshen up, Kendra," Aunt Amelia said, shooing Kendra out of the kitchen. "Our guest will arrive any moment." Her eyes were shining with excitement as she hefted the meat platter into her arms.

"But don't you need my help?" Kendra reached for the tray that looked ready to topple to the floor.

"No, no. You'll want to look your best. Now, go!"

"Very well." Kendra sighed as she untied her ap.r.o.n and folded it into a neat square. She started to turn toward her bedchamber but stopped. There was a small, sharp knife sitting on the worktable. It glistened in the sunlight, beckoning to her. She reached out her hand, thinking to hide it on her person just in case Martin attempted to get too close. The thought of actually using it though . . . she shuddered and backed away. She would trust G.o.d to save her if she needed saving. Stabbing someone wouldn't do much good even if she could gather the courage to use it. Best to continue to pray as she'd been doing all day. Lord, if only You would intervene and cause this to be called off. She stopped and listened for her miracle. A small earthquake? A sudden thunderstorm? A dreaded eclipse of the sun? Nothing. Only her aunt's voice nagging her to go and make herself look pretty.

She hurried to her room and stood in front of the hooks on the wall, deliberating on changing her dress or just remaining in the faded, striped cambric she was currently wearing. She'd scared off one marriage-minded man, why couldn't she scare off another? Even as she thought it, she shivered. Martin Saunderson was nothing like Lord Barrymore. There was something ruthless in his eyes and a wiry strength about his body that made her truly afraid. She could not be alone with him.

She pulled a pale pink gown from the back and stared at it. Still pretty and fashionable but modest too. It would have to do. After donning the dress she moved to the small mirror hanging on the wall and pinned her hair into a simple chignon. A sound from the front of the house gave her a start, causing her heart to race. She rushed to the door and opened it a crack. Martin's voice was like a deep velvety trap coming from the parlor.

Her knees shook beneath the gown as she made her way down the short hall. Stop it, silly. Nothing is going to happen to you. Faith! She lifted her chin and turned the corner, standing in the doorway where Uncle Franklin was conversing with Martin.

"Ah, Kendra. Come here, my dear. My, but don't you look like a vision." Her uncle beckoned her with an outstretched arm and warm smile. Kendra took a small breath, giving him a slight smile. She managed to cross the room without looking directly at Martin. Her uncle took her elbow and turned her toward his cohort. "Kendra, this is Martin Saunderson, a very dear friend of mine. Martin, this is my niece, Lady Kendra Townsend."

Kendra looked up for the first time and locked gazes with a set of dark gray eyes. He smiled, a sensuous stretching of his lips, and then had the audacity to wink at her. "Lady Townsend," he reached for her hand and bowed over it.

Kendra s.n.a.t.c.hed her hand away. "We've met before, if you recall."

Martin nodded his head, his mouth pulling down at the corners. "You must forgive me, my lady. I fear I had a little too much champagne that night and was not quite myself. If you could be so kind, as your uncle insists you are, I beg you forgive me and give me another chance at a first impression." He raised black brows at her with a hint of pleading in his eyes. But there was a glimmer of humor behind that look, making sport of her, she was sure of it. Taking a haughty mien she turned away and pressed her lips together. "You were unconscionable, sir. If my uncle only knew the . . . the liberties you tried to take. It will take more than a pretty apology to regain any degree of trust from me."

Kendra ground her teeth as her uncle took steps toward her and dove into the fray to rescue his friend. "But Kendra, a man makes mistakes. I've made so many and you've forgiven me. You have been the very picture of grace and forgiveness. Won't you extend that same consideration toward my very good friend?"

Her aunt chose that moment to enter the room. She was red faced and perspiring. Her eyes flashed back and forth between the three of them. "Dinner is served." She pulled Kendra toward her and whispered in her ear, "I'll keep an eye on Martin. Don't you worry about a thing."

Kendra looked down into her aunt's determined eyes and relaxed a little. Who would have thought her aunt would become her ally?

"Come now"-Amelia motioned them toward the dining room-"before it grows cold."

Kendra ignored Martin's proffered arm, which gained her a frown, and walked into the room unescorted. They sat across from one another at the small, rectangular table. There was a chipped blue pitcher in the middle filled with wild flowers that Kendra had picked the day before and around it four plates, bowls, and platters of food.

Dear Father, thank You for this food, please bless it for the nourishment of our bodies and help me get through this!

"Lady Townsend, how do you find America?" Martin asked.

Kendra swallowed a bite of roasted duck and answered, "I find it different than I thought. It's as if polite society decided to set up camp in a wilderness. Some of it is quite civilized, but all around those insulated areas is a sense of wildness."

Her uncle barked out a laugh. "Do you think us wild, my dear?"

"Not at all." Though her relatives' life had shocked her at first. Working the land, no servants to cook and clean for them, eking out a living. It wasn't that she abhorred what they did; on the contrary, she admired it. But they weren't content in it and so many Americans-like John and Victoria, the Colburns, and some others she had met-loved the freedom and independence that was available to them as Americans. She didn't want to explain it out loud to the people at this table but she had seen a satisfaction, a faith and hope in those people that her relatives did not seem to have. A knot formed in her throat but she pushed it down. Amelia and Franklin were bitter with their lot in life but she was determined not to be. "I find America to be stirring . . ." she hesitated, not wanting to share her heart with this stranger she didn't trust. "I find it fascinating," she finished with a shrug.

Martin had paused as she spoke. He was watching her face very closely, too close for comfort. Kendra looked away, down at her plate. Some inner strength gathered inside her, in her stomach. She met his eyes and challenged, "What do you think of America, Mr. Saunderson? I've heard you make your living in the gambling establishments. Do you enjoy fleecing your fellow countrymen for a living?"

Everyone gasped except for Martin. He turned that sly smile upon her and narrowed his eyes. "I a.s.sure you, my lady, that there are moments I enjoy very . . . very much. Mayhap I can introduce you to some of them."

It was Kendra's turn to gasp, but she stifled the impulse, narrowing her eyes back at him instead. "I have a pastime that I enjoy, sir. Would like to know what it is?" She smiled a small smile and looked up at him through her eyelashes.

His eyes turned heated.

Kendra tried not to laugh. She shot a glance at her aunt and uncle and let out a tinkling laugh. "I would like to share it with all of you!" She took a bite of bread and laughed around it, suddenly happy, confident that indeed, her G.o.d could save.

"I'd like to take you all to church with me!"

All three faces fell. Kendra just nodded and chewed.

Two hours later and after quoting Scripture verses whenever possible and once even bursting out in a hymn, Kendra was able to escape the evening.

"Time for my bedtime prayers!" She sighed with overbright eyes and a big smile, then stood and waved good-bye to the three of them. It was hard not to feel a little smug as she closed her bedchamber door with a sigh of relief. The evening hadn't been so very different from the evening with Lord Barrymore after all. To repel a man, one only had to find out what a man disdained and make it one's main pa.s.sion. She squashed a giggle as she unb.u.t.toned her gown, hung it back on the hook, then slipped into her nightgown. Not that I don't truly love You like I said I did, Lord. I just exaggerated the demonstration of it a bit.

She slipped into bed, pulled the covers up to her chin, and let out a contented sigh. Sleep came easy. Sleep came sweet. The sleep of the victorious.

Or so she thought.

Chapter Sixteen.

Kendra twisted her gloved hands in her lap as the carriage swayed and jerked over the rutted road toward Yorktown. Would he be there? She had good reason to believe that he might from the inquiries she had made of Faith Colburn the night of the ball. Grace Church. The church the entire Colburn family attended every Sunday and the church she had finally convinced her aunt and uncle to take her to.

She leaned out the open window of the ancient coach and yelled up to her uncle, "Do hurry, Uncle. We don't want to be late on our first visit."

Franklin scowled down at her. "This horse doesn't go any other speed. We shall arrive when we arrive."

Kendra pulled her head back in and chewed on her bottom lip. Her aunt reached over and patted her restless hands. "No good will come from all this fretting. A body would think you were on your deathbed and needing last rites, the way you're carrying on."

Her cheeks turned pink and she looked away, out the window at the rolling countryside. It was unseemly, the way she thought of him, well, constantly. She drew a deep breath and commanded herself to relax. She was going to church, after all, to hear about G.o.d. Not to moon like a daft cow over a sea captain. Lord, forgive me. I am foolish at times! It's no wonder You compare us to sheep. My brain feels full of wool!

Sooner than expected they ambled to a stop at one of the many hitching posts lining the street in front of the church. It was crowded but the big clock tower in the center of town had only reached five minutes until nine so they weren't late. Kendra didn't wait for her uncle to climb down and open the door, but sprang out on her own, causing a grumbling noise from her aunt. The people from the town and the surrounding countryside were decked out in their Sunday best and heading toward the front doors. Kendra smiled. It was good to be back at a church.

Her uncle came around the side of the carriage with Aunt Amelia's arm linked in his and looked around the churchyard. "Ah, this way then, ladies." Kendra followed in their wake as they merged with the crowd entering the large, one-roomed building.

Kendra tried to keep her eyes on her uncle's back or at her feet, trying not to gawk and make a fool of herself. Uncle Franklin led them to a long bench and she followed them down it to almost the middle point and then sat down. From the corner of her eye she thought she saw Faith and another of Dorian's sisters. Her heart sped up a little but she kept her eyes downcast, determined to be good. A pair of men's elegant shoes came into her line of vision. She pressed down a smile. The shoes turned in the direction of facing the front and then she saw him settle in, quite close, beside her. Surprised pleasure filled her. She looked aside and up, allowing the happiness she felt to sparkle in her eyes.

Martin Saunderson grinned back at her. "So good to see you, Lady Townsend. As you can see, I've taken your advice and decided to become a reformed citizen. Your words, nay, your pa.s.sion for the church has convicted my black soul to the very depths of my being. I owe you eternal thanks."

Kendra clamped her gaping mouth shut and doubted it to the depths of her being. But she couldn't say so. She only turned her head toward the front where the service was beginning. "I'm so glad, sir. I pray your many sins be forgiven and you remain . . . reformed."

Martin leaned close and chuckled into her ear. His warm breath made her recoil. "Ah, but I fear that will require a constant dose of your goodness, my lady. Perhaps even . . . a daily dose."

Kendra sucked in a breath. Would he declare himself right here as the service was beginning? She turned toward him, eyes flashing with warning. "You are mistaken if you think me a paragon of virtue, sir. It is our Savior, Jesus Christ, who makes a way for all sinners, me included."

She turned forward and pressed her lips tight together, determined not to speak to him any longer.

The dark chuckle reached through her meager shield and sent a chill of fear through her spine. He murmured words, a low hiss of sound, as the preacher instructed them to open a hymnal. "I daresay I should like to see the sinner's side of you. I should like that very much."

Outrage burst like flames through her as she stood and opened to the appointed page. The blackguard! What man would accost a woman in church? The man had no scruples whatsoever. She took a step away, crowding her aunt and gaining a frown and dig from her aunt's elbow as she began to sing. The words barely registered as the skin on one side of her body crawled where Martin stood.

As soon as the song was over she looked up and saw a slight wave from someone on the other side of the room. Faith was smiling and waving and then as Hannah leaned over and said something, she quickly lowered her hand and turned toward the front. Kendra smiled as the pretty young woman glanced back at Kendra and winked. The look and the wink reminded her so much of Dorian that the familiar longing rose up and she took a moment to scan the room for his dark head. Nothing. Her heart sank a little. He wasn't there.

As soon as the service was over Kendra ignored Martin's attempt at further conversation by brushing past him and rushing over toward Faith. Faith's eyes brightened as she hurried to meet her, grasping her hands in a tight squeeze. "I'm so glad you've come! You must meet the rest of the family."

Kendra nodded happy agreement. "I should love to. Is, ah . . ."

Faith giggled and leaned in, saying in a low voice, "No, Dorian's not here. Some mission to look over horseflesh in Fredericksburg. But you must meet Louisa, Charity, and Marjorie. They've been dying to meet you."

Kendra allowed herself to be dragged over to a tall woman who looked very much like Clayton Colburn. She carried a little girl on one hip and two boys only slightly older than the next clung to her skirts. One of them was sucking on a thumb. Kendra paused, taking in the scene of the harried mother. A knot formed in her throat and she didn't know why-couldn't fathom why it was suddenly hard to swallow-except that they were the most beautiful children she had ever seen.

"Lizzie, this is Lady Kendra Townsend," Faith gushed as if she were presenting the queen of England. "Lady Kendra, this is my eldest sister, Louisa Fairchild."

Louisa grinned with a broadness that took up most of her face. "You must forgive me, Lady Townsend." She twisted around until she had a grip on one of the boys. "Thomas, you're going to suck that thumb right off if you don't give it up, my dear," she admonished in a tone that said she was crazy in love with him. "As you can see these children are like living shackles. I can't even offer you my hand."

"Please, there is no need." Kendra smiled down at the wide, brown-eyed boy with his curly mop of white blonde hair who had ignored the parental advice and was doggedly working on his thumb. "Your children are so . . . beautiful."

Lizzie laughed and then shared a look with Faith. "You'll not think they are so angelic after an hour or so, I promise. But thank you. I can see that you mean that."

Faith took her arm and squeezed, looking at her sister as she said in an excited whisper, "I told you, didn't I?"

Lizzie nodded, her eyes happy and thoughtful as she stared at Kendra. "I didn't think it would ever happen to him. I shall have to revise my opinion on miracles. They do occur in modern days after all."

Faith giggled and admonished at the same time. "Shush. We are standing in church after all!"

"As if the good Lord doesn't know my every thought anyway." Lizzie shrugged, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

Faith gave Kendra's arm another excited squeeze. Kendra didn't understand what they were talking about but she was almost certain, by the way they were both stealing such pleased glances at her, that they were talking about her.

With a wave of her hand Faith rounded up the other sisters, Charity and Marjorie. Charity was blonde, short, and plump like her mother while Marjorie had the darker looks of Clayton and Dorian. They both eyed her, up and down, Charity bubbling with laughter as one of her nephews plowed into her demanding candy, and Marjorie looking shy and stealing glances at Kendra. Kendra smiled encouragingly at her and wondered if these two sisters were married with children also.

Before she had time to ask, she heard a shriek and turned to see Angelene staring at her, her eyes wide and face gone white. "Lady Townsend."

Kendra raised her brows. "Miss Monteiro. I didn't know you attended services here."

"For quite some time." Her red lip curled. "I didn't know you were interested in church."

"Oh yes, back home in Arundel I attended every Sunday. I've missed it since coming here and was so glad Faith invited me to come here to Grace Church."

Angelene's gaze flickered down to Faith's arm entwined with Kendra's. She looked up at Faith, but not quick enough to extinguish the slash of betrayal. "I see that the two of you have gotten quite chummy. Faith is such a dear soul to anyone in need."

"You sound as if you don't approve, Angelene." Lizzie jumped into the fray. "I a.s.sume you agree that anyone can attend church?"

Kendra pressed her lips together as a wave of compa.s.sion swept through her. It must appear to Angelene that she was taking her place in the Colburn family.

Angelene looked away from them and shrugged. "Of course. I was just curious as to why she chose this church. There are several closer to that farm where her ladyship lives. It is so . . . out of the way."

"I doubt it's a further distance than from my home!" Lizzie seemed to grow another inch and her chin jutted out. It wouldn't be wise to be on the other side of that ire, Kendra realized as she eased away from Faith. Even though Angelene had been nothing but a thorn in her side, Kendra couldn't bear to feel that the three of them were ganging up on her.

Turning toward the dark beauty she held out a hand. "Miss Monteiro, let us begin again." Kendra smiled with genuine warmth. "It is so good to see you. I've only a few minutes before my relatives drag me back to that farm." She laughed, making fun of it too. "Would you show me around the church?"