"You don't have gout!" she said.

"It's a code," he replied. "My friends will know what to make of it."

"And what does it mean?"

"It means," he looked up at her and smiled, "that my footloose days are over. I'm well and truly shackled."

"That's odd," she said, "I feel just the opposite. Marriage to you has freed me of all my chains. I'm the happiest woman in the world."

"Go back to reading your letter, Sara, or I won't be responsible for what happens next."

She laughed and went to the window seat, where she curled up and spread open her letter. "It's from Bea," she said. "I wrote to her right away and told her about Sir Ivor. This is her reply."

Max turned in his chair to get a better look at Sara. To say that he'd come down with a bad case of gout was the only way to explain to his friends how the love of his life affected him. He was no poet, and if he told them how he really felt, they'd think he was a sap.

"Well?" he said. "What does Miss Beattie say?"

"Mmm?" Sara looked up. "Oh, you know Bea. She thinks you're Prince Charming. She always knew that you were right for me, that sort of thing. She's not even shocked to learn that you're the Courier's owner. She says that G.o.d works in mysterious ways. Well, we can vouch for that. I told her we'd be making our home in London, and she says that as soon as we're settled, she'll come for a visit."

He said softly, "You don't mind making your home in London? I know your heart is here."

"Now, that's a silly thing to say. My heart isn't here."

"Where is it, then?"

She folded Miss Beattie's letter and slipped it into her pocket, then came to him. Taking his hands in hers, she placed them on her heart. "Wherever you are, that's where my heart is."

He brought her hands to his lips and turning them over, kissed her palms tenderly. "Oh, my dearest love-"

He broke off when the door opened. Anne slipped into the room. "Max," she said, "Drew would like a word with you. He's in the library."

Sara looked at the clock. "Have the lawyers arrived?"

"No," said Anne. "Drew wanted to talk to Max first. And I want to talk to you, Sara."

Max rose. "I was expecting this." Then to Sara, "Prepare yourself for a shock, Sara. You're not the happiest woman in the world."

"What?"

Max left, and Sara studied her sister. Anne's color was high; her eyes were sparkling. She approached Sara with slow, halting steps.

"Oh Sara, I'm going to marry Drew," she said. "He still loves me. After all these years, he still loves me. I'm so happy, I can hardly bear it. Say you're happy for me, too."

Sara stared at Anne without blinking. At last, she let out the breath she was holding. "Of course I'm happy for you, but don't you think that this is rather sudden? How long have you loved him?"

"Oh, since I was about three years old. Is that long enough for you?" Anne smiled into Sara's bewildered eyes. "Love isn't always easy, Sara, as it is for you and Max. Nothing went right for Drew and me, but at last we can be together. Don't begrudge us our happiness."

Sara said reverently, "Oh, my love, I never would, I never could. You deserve to be the happiest woman in the world. It's what I've always wanted."

"Sara, it's not tragic! Don't cry!"

"I never cry," said Sara, and wept in her sister's arms as though her heart would break.

The latest edition of the Courier arrived that evening by special messenger, straight from the presses in London, and set the whole house in a buzz. There were enough copies for every member of the family, and Peter Fallon took it upon himself to deliver them.

Simon was the first to read it and he went tearing along to his brother's room. A few minutes later they dashed to their mother's room to find Constance dressing for dinner.

She took the paper that was thrust under her nose and read the headline. "Sir Ivor Neville Arrested for Son's Murder."

"Not that," said Simon excitedly. "Read on. The third paragraph."

Constance complied. "Sara Carstairs, who was acquitted of William Neville's murder three years ago, found the secret chamber in Sir Ivor's house. With her was her husband, Lord Maxwell Worthe, the Couriers publisher and heir to the Marquess ... " her jaw dropped, "... of Lyndhurst."

She looked at her sons. "What does this mean?"

"It means," said Martin, "that it really was a love match and Max is not a fortune hunter."

Simon made a face and clapped his brother on the shoulder. "What this means, Martin," he said, "is that we won't have to go to hard-hearted Sara when we're under the hatches. We'll go to Max. He's a soft touch. And he has more money than Sara."

Constance was unconvinced. "I've heard of the Lyndhurst's. Don't they live in that broken-down castle between Winchester and Aylesford? They may have a t.i.tle, but I never heard that they had any money."

"That's how old money likes it," said Simon, adopting his man-of-the-world pose. "Trust me, Mother. At Oxford, we all know about Lord Lyndhurst. If it weren't for him, half the colleges would shut down for lack of funds."

Martin let out a low whistle. "You mean, Max's father is that Lyndhurst?"

"Of course! From what I've heard, he and Lady Lyndhurst are both slightly dotty." Simon touched his index finger to his head. "You know, eccentric, but they're old blood and old money just the same."

Constance reached for her handkerchief and blew her nose. "Max was here earlier, and said that we should all have a Season in London, but I refused. Without Lady Neville to sponsor us, I didn't see the point."

"Lady Neville!" Simon looked astonished. "She's not in the same league as Lady Lyndhurst. If I were you, I'd tell Max you've changed your mind."

Martin said, "Weren't the lawyers going to meet this afternoon to draw up marriage settlements?"

"So?"

"I was just wondering what Sara has decided about our future. Maybe she'll tell us at dinner."

There was a knock on the door and the maid entered. "Lord Maxwell," she said, "would like to see you all in the library."

Constance looked around for her stole, and when she looked up, she found that she was alone.

Simon entered the library brandishing the Courier above his head. "Sara," he called out, "you're a heroine. Have you read this piece in the Courier?"

"I didn't know it was here."

"And shame on you, Max," Simon went on, "for letting us all make fools of ourselves."

"Simon," said Constance, "sit down and hold your tongue."

Max waited until the whole family had a.s.sembled. Peter Fallon would be joining them for dinner, but this was family business, and only family members were invited, and that included Drew Primrose.

Max stood with his back to the fireplace. When everyone was seated, he nodded to the footman on duty who handed round a silver tray with long-stemmed gla.s.ses of iced champagne.

"Champagne?" Lucy's eyes were as big as saucers.

"This is a special occasion," said Max. "I have an announcement to make. Anne and Drew are going to be married just as soon as it can be arranged."

There was a stunned silence, then everyone began to speak at once and to offer their congratulations. Max glanced at Constance. He'd had a word with her earlier to prepare her for the announcement, but Drew had got there before him. She didn't disappoint him. Her smile was serene; her congratulations seemed sincere. Anne and Drew looked relaxed and happy. So far, so good.

Max raised his gla.s.s. "To Drew and Anne," he said. "Long life and happiness."

"To Drew and Anne," everyone chorused. "Long life and happiness."

Max nodded to the footman, who then left the room. "There's another reason for celebration," said Max. "Today my wife feels that she has fulfilled a sacred obligation, but I'll let Sara explain it in her own words."

Sara looked at each of her siblings in turn. Her face glowed with happiness. "Before he died," she said, "Father asked me to take care of you all. Today, when Max and I signed our marriage settlements, I felt a great happiness, knowing that I'd carried out Father's last wishes." She smiled at Max. "Perhaps what I did wasn't wise, but it was right. Thank you, Max, for allowing me to do it."

All eyes expectantly turned to Max. "What it amounts to," he said, "is that your father's fortune will be divided equally amongst his children and stepchildren. And I'd just like to add that Anne is in favor of this arrangement." He paused then went on, "But before you all get carried away with grand schemes on how you will spend your share, let me warn you that I and my father, Lord Lyndhurst, will be your trustees until you each reach your twenty-fifth birthday. That's when you'll get your capital and it will be intact. Do I make myself clear?"

They looked as though he'd just announced a death in the family, so he took the opportunity of saying more. "I'll tell you what my father told me when I came into some money. The money you are getting represents someone else's hard work and sacrifice. If you use it frivolously, you dishonor your benefactor."

"Good Lord!" Martin exclaimed. "You sound just like Sara."

Max gave them his shark's smile. "As long as you've got that right, Martin, we should deal well together."

Simon winked broadly at his brother before turning back to Max. "So far," he said, "all we've heard is how our father's estate is going to be settled. As head of the family, I have the right to know what provision you've made for my sister."

"Quite right," said Max, drowning out Sara's sharp rebuke. "Perhaps Drew, as Sara's attorney, wouldn't mind answering that."

"I have no hesitation in saying," said Drew, "that Sara is well provided for. Her jointure comprises all the income from the Courier and Lord Maxwell's other business interests. And, of course, the usual widow's dower, you know, one-third of the income from any lands and properties Lord Maxwell may hold."

Simon was trying to do sums inside his head, but gave up when he came to infinity. He nodded mutely.

"You don't seem very impressed, Sara," said Martin, looking at her curiously.

Sara was savoring her champagne, thinking that she had a lot of living to catch up on, and Max was just the man to help her do it. "I am impressed," she said. "I'm rich in the things that really matter." She gave Max a sideways glance. "Money is such a burden. I'm happier now without it. Max taught me that. Besides, it's not as though I'll have to take in washing to make ends meet. I'm content."

Everyone thought this was a huge joke, and their laughter reverberated off the walls. Max was watching Sara with a veiled expression.

She said brightly, "Shall we go into dinner?"

Sara entered her chamber to look for a shawl, and noticed a copy of the Courier on her bedside table. She picked it up and had read only the first paragraph when Max entered. He came to stand behind her and cradled her in his arms.

"I haven't been alone with my beautiful wife since the lawyers got here," he said.

She turned in his arms and kissed him. "I know. There will be time later when we go to bed."

His arms tightened when she tried to slip away. "Sara-"

"Yes, Max?"

"Would you still love me if I were a rich man?"

She gave a low throaty chuckle. "Now what has brought this on?"

"Just answer the question."

She considered for a moment. "As you said yourself, Max, we're rich in everything that counts. We have our health. We have each other. We have enough to live on comfortably from the Courier and my inheritance. And you're the one who keeps telling me that money doesn't matter. No. I like you just the way you are."

He frowned when she pushed out of his arms and began to wander aimlessly around the room, touching first one object then another. She suddenly looked up and smiled. "At least no one can call you a fortune hunter now, Max. I'm worth only a fraction of what I was worth when I got up this morning. Do you know what I think? I think your family is going take me for the fortune hunter. Isn't it ironic?"

He took a step toward her. "My family?" he asked carefully.

"You know, Lord and Lady Lyndhurst, who live in a broken-down castle on the other side of Winchester, and who just happen to be one step away from royalty."

He gave her a crooked smile. "Actually, they're two steps away from royalty, and they're exactly as I described them to you. My father runs the estate and my mother is a great help to him. And I never said Castle Lyndhurst was broken down. In fact, it's in perfect condition. My mother wouldn't have it any other way."

Hands on hips, she said indignantly, "I distinctly remember you saying at the dinner table that your parents lived in a decrepit ruin of a place."

"And so it is, on the outside. But once you get past the ruined walls, it's in perfect condition."

"And you didn't tell me my fortune wasn't a patch on yours."

"Oho! So you've finally figured it out. In my circles, my dearest love, it's not considered polite to boast about one's wealth. Honestly, Sara, I never gave it a thought. Right from the start, you marked me down as a penniless adventurer, a no-account Corinthian, and that impression was branded on your mind."

"What's wrong with being an adventurer? In fact, I was hoping you would teach me to be an adventuress."

He caught the glint of amus.e.m.e.nt in her eyes. "And so I shall, my love, so I shall. Beginning right now."

She shrieked when he made a dive for her. With a great whoop of laughter, he tossed her on the bed. She struggled madly but he soon subdued her.

"How did you figure it out?" he asked.

"Lady Neville taunted me with your great station in life. 'The Worthes of Lyndhurst,' she called your family. As though the Carstairs were nothing! Then Bea's letter today. She said that Lord Lyndhurst's heir was the most eligible bachelor in England, and I should kiss your boots for taking me on. Hah! Don't you dare laugh at me, Max Worthe! I come from the Carstairs of Longfield, and I'm every bit as good as you. My great-great grandfather, let me tell you-"

He kissed her into silence. Laughing down at her, he said, "My parents are going to love you. You're not really upset, are you, Sara?"

She fingered his neckcloth. "Well, at first, I was disappointed. I never wanted to marry into the aristocracy. I thought, if Max's parents are anything like Sir Ivor and Lady Neville, I'll divorce him."

"They're not!" he said, suppressing a shudder.

"Well, of course, they're not, or you wouldn't be you."

That piece of flattery deserved another kiss and he gave it to her.

She smiled up at him, her heart in her eyes, and she murmured, "And because you're you, you could never disappoint me. Rich or poor, whoever you may be, you're the man for me. I love you, Max Worthe, with my whole heart. In fact-"

"You adore me," said Max, and kissed her again.