"What will happen to her body? Do you think that she is a local?"

"I have asked Dr. Coleman to examine her. Once she has been...cleaned, it is possible that Coleman will recognize her. He is the only physician for miles around and if she is a local woman, it is possible that he will know her. The magistrate as well as the bailiff will be making inquiries about any missing women." Julian hugged her against him. "God, Nell!" he said in shaken tones, "but this is a curst, ugly business. And terrifying that you are so closely linked with it."

"Harder for you than me," Nell said. "I have lived with the knowledge of this monster for a decade or more, but you...You have just learned of him."

"And wish to God that I had not!" His lips brushed her temple. "But most of all, I wish that you had never been subjected to the horror of his handiwork."

She smiled sadly. "I, too, wish the same, but perhaps, there is a reason behind my having the nightmares. Remember: from what we learn from them, we may find a way to stop him."

Julian stifled a yawn. "That is the only saving grace I can find in this whole ugly business."

Standing up, she reached for his hand. "Come to bed," she urged. "I can see that you are exhausted."

The firelight behind her silhouetted her form and a gleam entered his eyes. "Bed sounds a fine idea...especially with you in it and in my arms," he said huskily as he rose from his seat and pulled her into an embrace. He kissed her long, hard and deep. "Most especially," he breathed against her tingling lips, "with you in my arms."

He swept her up into the air and carried her to the huge, canopied bed. Lying her in the center, he smiled down at her. "I do not know how it comes about, but I have never made love to you in my bed. I shall have to rectify that omission."

And he did. Most enjoyably and quite, quite thoroughly.

Despite his intention for an early start the next morning, Julian's plans were foiled by the weather. The weather that had bedeviled them the previous night had become a howling storm and the notion of riding out in blowing rain and screaming wind was promptly put aside.

After a long, leisurely breakfast wherein Marcus paid all the women extravagant compliments and brought a blush more than once to Elizabeth's cheeks, the gentlemen closeted themselves for several hours in Julian's study. Nell sent them a dark look as they exited the morning room, knowing that she was being abandoned to feminine pastimes while they discussed more weighty matters.

The ladies spent the day going over more pattern books and craftsman catalogs in search of furnishings for the Dower House. Nell chafed at sitting on the sofa looking at swatch after swatch of fabric and page after page of furniture when she longed to join the gentlemen in the study. She knew that they would be discussing how best to proceed with finding out the identity of the slain woman and how to catch the killer. She scowled. She knew more about the Shadow Man than anyone did, but did they ask her opinion? She snorted. Of course not! She was only a mere woman to be petted and cosseted. Grudgingly she admitted that Julian was only trying to protect her, but it was ridiculous. She was already deep in the middle of it. She should be in that study with them instead of here listening to Lady Diana's joyous exclamations as yet another swatch of fabric or chair was found that pleased her eye.

Unable to stand it a moment longer, she leaped to her feet and after making an excuse to the other two women, with her spine ramrod straight, she went in search of her husband. She found Julian and Marcus still in the study, and from the grim expressions on their faces when she entered the room, she knew that they had been discussing the murdered woman.

Both men immediately rose when she entered, but she waved them back to their chairs and seated herself on a small, channel-backed sofa not far from the fire. Fixing both men with a determined stare, she said, "Forgive me for intruding, but it is ridiculous to pretend that I do not have something to offer concerning this matter." At the stubborn expression that appeared on Julian's face, she said quickly, "You know that I am right, my lord, and that I have a personal interest in finding out who murdered that poor young girl. A more personal interest than either one of you."

Marcus appeared stunned. He stared incredulously at Julian. "You told her?"

"Not exactly," Julian said grimly. He studied Nell's set face and sighed. He had married a strong woman and she was not going to let him wrap her in ermine and silk and keep her safely in the background. No, he thought with rueful admiration, his Nell was pluck to the backbone and, it appeared, resolute in throwing herself in the midst of deadly peril.

"Not exactly? What the hell does that mean?" demanded Marcus, his gaze moving from one taut face to the other. "What the devil is going on here?"

Julian sighed. "Do you want to tell him, or shall I?"

Nell had known when she walked into that room that she would have to share the secret of the nightmares with Marcus. She just hadn't realized how hard it would be to convince a stranger that she was not a candidate for Bedlam. It helped that Julian supported her. And that he believed her. She began her story...

It was Julian's belief in her that eventually convinced Marcus. Like Julian he had been skeptical and disbelieving in the beginning. From the looks he occasionally shot his cousin, it was clear that for awhile he thought that both of them were mad. But gradually, as she and Julian laid it all out for him, he became a believer.

"I cannot believe it! You saw John murdered?" Marcus asked several times. "You actually saw it? In your, er, nightmare?"

Patiently Nell assured him that this was so, and tried not to be annoyed when he would glance then at Julian for confirmation of what she said.

Once he was receptive to the idea that she had indeed seen the murder of John Weston a decade ago, it seemed easier for him to accept that she had dreamed the murder of several innocent women by the same man who had slain his oldest cousin. "And the place is always the same?" he demanded. "You are positive of that? There is no mistake?"

"Yes, it is always the same. And no, I am not mistaken," she answered sharply, "and I have never seen his face."

"You do realize, don't you, Lady Wyndham, that you are in grave danger?" Marcus asked slowly. "Should this monster learn that you watch him through your nightmares he would stop at nothing to silence you...You could end up in the ghastly dungeon of his."

"That will never happen," said Julian with quiet determination. "I will keep her safe." He stared at Marcus. "We will keep her safe."

Marcus nodded, and for once there was no sign of his usual ready smile. He took a deep breath. "And the best way to do that is find those bloody dungeons and the madman who inhabits them."

"I agree, but until this weather breaks we cannot go forward," Julian said.

A speculative expression in his gaze, Marcus looked at Nell. "These nightmares of yours: are you certain that you will recognize the place if we actually find it?"

It was obvious to both Nell and Julian that though he was trying gamely to believe in Nell's nightmares and what they revealed, Marcus was not totally convinced.

"She will recognize them," Julian said flatly.

Julian and Marcus were aimlessly playing a game of billiards several hours later when Dibble appeared with the news that Dr. Coleman had come to call. The two men exchanged glances and as one threw down their cues and left the room with swift strides. Julian called over his shoulder to Dibble as he walked away, "Some of your rum punch, Dibble. We will have need of it."

Dibble had shown Dr. Coleman into Julian's study and he had been standing and staring at the fire, but at the entrance of Julian and Marcus he turned and looked at them. Greetings were exchanged and Julian's offer of warm punch was gladly accepted. Polite conversation flowed as Dibble returned with the punch and served it.

After Dibble had departed, Julian said, "Tell us all that you have discovered."

"In all my years, I have never seen anything like it," Dr. Coleman said in shaken tones. "It is as if a beast ravaged her, tried to tear her apart."

"It was a beast," Julian said grimly. "A human beast with a heart of evil."

Dr. Coleman nodded. "Yes, I agree. But I was not certain as to the cause of death until I examined the body closely-then it became clear that her terrible wounds were made by the hand of a man and not an animal."

"A debatable point," murmured Marcus.

Dr. Coleman grimaced. "Yes, yes, indeed." He took another sip of the punch as if fortifying himself to go on. "Her features were unrecognizable to me at first," he continued, "but once I had washed away the blood and debris I realized that I knew her. Her name is, er, was, Ann Barnes and she works...worked at a small family inn not far from the coast, some ten miles north of here. I treated her last year for chicken pox when it swept through the county." He sighed. "Poor, poor child! She was only seventeen. Such a tragedy! A waste. All the more so since I discovered that she was pregnant." At Julian's sharp look, he added, "I found the remains of the fetus. From its development, I suspect that she could not have been more than four months pregnant."

It was agreed that Dr. Coleman would notify Ann Barnes's family of her death. There was some discussion about the burial, and not wishing for her family to look upon those mutilated remains, as much to spare them the awful sight as to disguise the murder, Julian requested that the doctor take care of all the arrangements.

"I do not want her parents to see what that monster did to her, nor cause panic in the area," Julian said. "So I think it would be best if her body was returned to them in a sealed coffin. Naturally I shall pay for it."

"I shall have to tell them something concerning her death," Dr. Coleman protested.

"Tell them that she fell from the cliffs," Marcus said, "and that his lordship wished to spare them the sight of damage done by the rocks and the sea."

Julian looked thoughtfully at Marcus, wondering if his cousin realized how closely that story tallied with Nell's brush with death a decade ago. It made him uncomfortable, the similarities, but he agreed that the tale would explain much. Aloud he said, "I shall write to the magistrate immediately and the bailiff to let them know what we propose. And hope to God they have not already spread the manner of her death."

Dr. Coleman bowed. "I spoke with both of them late last night and we agreed that the less said abroad, the better. They are discreet men, my lord. You have nothing to fear of them speaking of things they should not. No one wants the populace frightened and starting at shadows." He pulled out his pocket watch and glancing at it, said, "I have a meeting with both of them at my house in an hour. I shall be happy to relate to them what has been decided here."

Having delivered his report, and the meeting with the magistrate and bailiff looming, Dr. Coleman did not linger.

After he had left, Julian stood up and walked to the window that overlooked the driveway. The weather was still beastly and he did not envy Dr. Coleman the ride to his house.

It wasn't until late that night when they retired that Julian was able to relate to Nell all that had been revealed by the doctor's visit. Curled up by his side in bed, she listened as he told her what they now knew about the victim. When he spoke of the fetus, Nell's hands instinctively curved around her belly. She and the dead woman had not been very far apart in their pregnancies. It hurt to think of not only the wanton death of a young woman with everything to live for, but also the innocent creature that had grown in Ann Barnes's belly.

Julian's warm hand closed over hers. "I know," he said softly. "I thought the same thing. You and young Ann would have given birth within weeks of each other."

"We must stop this monster," Nell said fiercely. "He must not be allowed to continue to kill at will."

"Have no fear, we will find him and we will stop him, no matter where he runs or where he hides." There was silence for a moment as they both considered the formidable task before them. Then Julian said, "Marcus and I will poke about, and we may learn something that will put us on his track."

The inclement weather continued almost unabated for over two weeks and since there had been no urgent reason for him to return home, Marcus accepted Julian's invitation to stay at Wyndham Manor. By the time the series of storms had blown themselves out, everyone was heartily sick of rain and wind-and more wind and rain. There had not been a day that it had not rained, sometimes it had rained the entire day and night. But then the skies cleared and while every roof, fence, twig, branch and leaf dripped water, the sun had finally shone. The storms had lashed the neighborhood hard-all the area rivers and streams were swollen and roaring, some spilling their banks and flooding the adjacent lands; nearly every road, path and walkway was knee-deep in mud and littered with puddles. On that last Monday in February, the inhabitants of Wyndham Manor greeted the sight of the sun shining in the blue sky with grateful pleasure and delight. Meeting at the breakfast table that morning, everyone was full of plans and impatient to be gone and busy with their affairs.

While the storms had precluded any work being done on the exterior of the Dower House, the workmen had been scheduled to continue work on the interior and Lady Diana and Elizabeth were eager to see the progress.

"If there has been any progress," Lady Diana said gloomily. "The roads have been atrocious and the only time we were at the house since this awful weather started the foreman indicated that he might send everyone home until the weather cleared." She sighed. "He said that the paint and plaster was not drying and that the wall hangings were slipping because of the dampness in the air." She sighed again. "And that the chimneys were blowing smoke into some of the newly redone rooms-something that must be repaired when the weather breaks." She put down her cup of tea. "Sometimes I wonder if my house will ever be habitable. It seems that there has just been one delay after another."

Lady Diana's complaints were valid, Julian thought with a frown. Besides the weather, which no one had any control over, there had been several vexing delays. He had not paid a great deal of attention to Lady Diana's grievances and, as he remembered, they'd been little things. There'd been some missing fabric, he recalled, and a carpet? A word with the head carpenter would not come amiss, he decided as they rose from the table.

They all exited the room together and walked to the front of the house, where a small trap drawn by a stout pony was waiting for Lady Diana and Elizabeth, and soon the women were happily driving to the Dower House. Having declined Lady Diana's offer to join them, Nell waved them on their way.

No less eager than Lady Diana and Elizabeth were to escape the confines of the house, Julian and Marcus stood by Nell as their horses were led up from the stables. Their plans included a visit to Squire Chadbourne and the hope that the squire could be maneuvered into showing them the dungeons beneath Chadbourne House.

Turning to say good-bye to his wife, Julian frowned. "I do not like leaving you here alone."

"I will not be alone," Nell said. "How could I be with a house full of servants? Besides, you'd be horrified if I demanded to go with you."

The guilty expression that crossed his face made her smile, but it was the appalled look on Marcus's face that had her bursting into laughter. "Go away," she said to the pair of them. "Do not worry about me, I will find something to amuse myself. In fact, I am looking forward to a pleasant day alone."

Nell wasn't pretending. Despite the soggy ground she did want to walk around the gardens and perhaps down to the stables. After two weeks of being housebound, she was eager to stretch her legs and be out and about in the sunshine.

Left to her own devices, Nell did as she planned, wearing a fur-trimmed pelisse to keep out the cold and a charming bonnet on her head, she strolled about the gardens, avoiding those pathways that seemed too muddy. It was wonderful to be outside, she thought, as she lifted her face to the sun's rays and took a deep breath of the clean, country air. She patted her abdomen, pleased that there was an increasing bulge where her child grew. Except for the horrors associated with the Shadow Man and the specter of Julian's first wife, Nell was happy. She did miss her family, her father in particular, but Wyndham Manor and its ways and people were feeling more and more like home to her. She adored her husband; he was a good, generous man and just the mere sight of him made her blood race and her heart lift. And there was the birth of their child in the summer to anticipate.

She had, she realized, much to be grateful for. Picturing the expression on Lord Tynedale's face if she was to thank him for kidnapping her, she nearly laughed aloud. Without his interference, she thought, I'd never have known Julian, never married him and never fallen in love with him. But then she remembered Catherine and the fresh bouquet of roses or lilies carefully arranged every morning beneath the portrait in the gallery and her spirits plummeted.

You could stop torturing yourself by checking whether Julian was still ordering those those bloody flowers, you know, she told herself sternly. You do yourself no good and only hurt yourself every time you prowl the gallery and see the new bouquets.

She'd tried to break the habit of going to the gallery, but just as Julian seemed unable to break his tradition, so did she hers.

Miserably, she walked back to the house, her enjoyment in the day and gardens ruined. I should have gone to the Dower House with Lady Diana, she thought bitterly. Her eyes turned in that direction and her breath caught at the sight of a huge, billowing cloud of black smoke rising in the air above the trees.

It took a second for her to understand what she was seeing, but then she did, and a thrill of horror went through her. The Dower House was on fire.

Chapter 17.

Picking up her skirts, Nell ran back to the manor, her heart slamming hard against her ribs. What had happened? She glanced again in the direction of the Dower House, hoping that her eyes had deceived her. They had not. If anything the cloud was blacker, larger, more terrifying.

As she neared the front door, she heard the babble of the servants, the sounds of people running and calling out and realized that they too had seen the ominous cloud of smoke rising in the air and were sounding the alarm. Already there was the clatter of vehicles and horses as every able man and woman sped away to fight the fire at the Dower House.

Nell joined in the rush, only to be brought up short by someone calling her name. "Your ladyship! Your ladyship! Wait-I have brought a horse for you."

She whirled around and there was Hodges astride a dancing chestnut and holding the reins to her favorite black mare. She flashed him a grateful smile and heedless of modesty or position, she easily vaulted into the saddle. Neck and neck, swerving to avoid those on foot and slower vehicles, she and Hodges careened down the road, mud flying from their horses' hooves.

Reaching the rear of the Dower House where the fire raged, Nell discovered a scene of ordered chaos. Horses and wagons and carts were parked willy-nilly along a line of trees at the side of the house. Lady Diana, her dark hair mussed and wild, a black smudge on one cheek and the hem of her gown stained and torn, was organizing the newest arrivals. Now and then Lady Diana risked a horrified glance at the leaping flames coming from the rear of the house before seeming to gather herself once more and attend to the matter at hand. Elizabeth, looking as if she'd fought with a flaming coal bucket and lost-if her sooty face and scorched gown were anything to go by-was beating the flames with a wet rug as she and several others tried to keep the fire from spreading. Buckets and pails soon appeared; a straggling line of volunteers was formed and using the well at the back of the house, pail after pail of water was thrown onto the raging fire.

Nell joined in the fray, taking her place in the middle of the water brigade, eagerly accepting the sloshing pail of water passed to her and turning to pass it on to the next person. They worked tirelessly, the only thing that mattered being that next bucket of water that was swiftly hoisted from the well and passed on to the next pair of willing hands.

The unrelenting rain of the last few weeks was a godsend. The roof, the walls, the ground itself and the exterior were still soaked and that slowed the fire's reach and gave them all hope that it could be stopped before engulfing the entire house.

A second line was formed as more volunteers arrived. The fight continued unrelentingly and Nell's shoulders and arms were screaming for relief as she reached for what seemed like the hundredth bucket, but before her fingers touched the handle, a pair of masculine hands closed around her waist and lifted her bodily from the line.

Astonished she stared up into Charles Weston's face. "Charles!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

He flashed a grim smile. "Saving my cousin's heir and taking your place in the line. Go join my stepmother and Lady Diana on the sidelines. Raoul and I shall add our bit to the fight."

Looking around, Nell noticed that Raoul, having apparently dispatched Elizabeth the same way Charles had her, had joined the other line of the water brigade. Mrs. Weston, garbed in a dark blue riding habit, was standing next to Lady Diana and Elizabeth was trudging over to where they stood staring at the fire.

Nell protested, but Charles gave her a warning look and said: "Now we can stand here arguing, an argument you shall lose, or you can let me go to work. Which shall it be, my lady?"

Nell knew when she was beaten-Charles was quite capable of picking her up and carrying her away from the line if need be. "Very well," she said. "I shall join Lady Diana and the others."

Reluctance in every step, Nell walked over to join the other ladies. Lady Diana embraced her. "Oh, Nell, it was so brave of you to help fight the fire." She turned a proud maternal smile on Elizabeth. "And you, Elizabeth, my darling, you were splendid."

Elizabeth smiled wanly. "I just hope that the house can be saved."

"With my son and stepson adding their might to fight the fire, you have nothing to fear now," said Sofia Weston with irritating assurance. "They will stop the fire."

None of the other three ladies made any reply, but Elizabeth and Nell exchanged glances. Under her breath Nell muttered, "And I suppose our efforts were meaningless."

Elizabeth choked back a laugh and looked away.

Sofia studied Nell for a moment, and Nell wondered if she had overheard her comment to Elizabeth.

"It is a good thing that my stepson and I decided to come to call this morning," Sofia said after an awkward moment.

"Yes, it was," Nell said meekly. "We are grateful for their help."

It was feared that the fire would spread internally and gut the house, but as the time passed, and more people arrived and a third and fourth line were formed, the battle to save the Dower House was won, bucket by bucket, pail by pail. Though there was still an appalling cloud of smoke billowing skyward, the yellow and red flames subsided.

Water continued to be thrown on the remains of the fire, but eventually there was no longer any obvious sign of flames. Smoke lingered heavily in the air and a hiss and a sizzling snap greeted each new bucket of water.

The small wing at the rear of the Dower House that had consisted of the kitchen, scullery, pantry, larder and coal yard was a total loss, but the main structure, connected to the kitchen by a covered walkway, had been spared. There was much comment on how lucky it had been that the coal yard had been almost empty at the time, else the fire in that area would have burned so hot that there would not have been any stopping it.

The fight won, amid much backslapping and self-congratulations, most of the servants gradually drifted away, back to their usual chores. While the Westons remained off to the side, Nell, Lady Diana and Elizabeth stood in a bedraggled reception line in front of the house thanking each person as they left the scene of the fire.

Having a private word with Dibble, Nell said, "Everyone was magnificent! Will you see to it that all are given an extra half day off within the week?"

Despite a streak of soot smearing his cheek and his usual immaculate livery stained and smelling of smoke, Dibble rose nobly to the occasion. Bowing regally, he said, "It shall be done, my lady."