debt was near culmination, but something warned him to pull back. "What if she is not willing?" he asked, wavering at the last moment.

"She will not be given a choice." Finality rang in the words. "Do you agree?"

"There is much to consider-"

"Your answer," Furness commanded coldly.

Wiltham swallowed his doubts and nodded.

"Wise choice," Furness clipped. "I shall send my man around in the morn. Give him a listing of what and whom you owe. There also will be a sum deposited in your name for current expenses at an establishment you select. Arrangements for the allowance shall be set the day you wed my daughter."

"May I ask the amount?" Wiltham ventured greedily.

"Let us say it shall be sufficient for you to settle your bride safely at Wornstone and then enjoy a grandhoneymoon tour with someone-of your choice." Furness filled his gla.s.s again. At last it will be over, he thought. When she was wed, the demon he battled daily would be defeated.

He rubbed his eyes heavily. Now it would not matter what sort of "education" Kenton had been able to instill in Joanne. Furness sat tiredly, leaning his head back against the plush-cushioned chair.

"Leave me. All will be taken care of."

The adventure was about to begin but what a sad-faced lot a.s.sembled to see it off. Mrs. Caern wiped a tear away as she the baggage loaded. She had come to love the troubled young miss, as had all the household servants. Lord Jason had scowled for a week and Lady Joanne moped silently through the rooms and corridors.

The day had come at last and Lord Jason and the comtesse were together for a last conference.

"Lord Jason, you are too worrisome-something I find difficult to believe of you. I a.s.sure you, Lord Furness will not prove difficult. There is little he can do. It will not seem odd that I introduce his daughter into society, as he is a widower and I childless. He will probably be relieved to have the duty taken from his hands if all you say is true. Besides, we are agreed that no one shall know who Joanne is until the ball. Are you certain you shall not come?"

Kenton shook his head. "Remember Furness is a vicious man. There is no telling what he will do."

"But the man still maintains the fringe of respect. When I introduce Joanne, he will have no choice but to leave her with me or cause a scandal. Do not be so gloomy," she smiled. "One would think you are losing more than a pair of houseguests. Is not the purpose of this venture to obtain a match for Joanne-to see her happily settled?"

"Only if it pleases her. I do not want her forced in any way."

"She shall be constrained in no way, my lord," the comtesse said mischievously. "I am certain there is some fine young buck who will win Joanne's heart."

To Kenton's ear, the light-hearted chatter held the barb of sarcasm. He studied her. "You envision no problems then?"

"But why should there be any?" she twittered, rising. "The appointed departure hour draws near. There are a few details I must attend."

"Would you tell Lady Joanne I wish to speak with her here, privately?" he asked.

"Of course, my lord. She shall come in but a moment."

The laughing eyes seemed to taunt, but he could not imagine why. Joanne's image had blotted all else from his mind.

"My lord," a voice said softly and a hand lightly touched Kenton's shoulder. He stiffened, steeled himself for this scene.

"I did not mean to startle you, my lord," Joanne said, "but your mind was very far from here. You did not hear me knock or enter."

Kenton drank in the vision she presented. The downy blue travelling suit making her a patch of spring sky so welcome after a long winter. The urge to take her in his arms was almost unresistable.

"You wished to see me?" she asked when he did not speak. "Yes, Joanne-Lady Joanne," he corrected himself gruffly. "Be seated." Kenton motioned to the usual chair beside the desk.

How oft have I sat here and spoken with him, Joanne thought. Why did it take so long to realize I loved him? She blinked back the tears that came and bravely raised her chin. He did not care or he would never have let her go. She would not betray her feelings.

While Joanne took a seat, Kenton opened the centre drawer and removed a dark, wine-stained leather pouch and two small carved wooden chests. "When your father stopped at Kentoncombe before your arrival, he gave me this." He offered her the pouch.

"Of course some has been used-far your gowns and the pin money you have been given. What remains is rightfully yours to use as you see fit. Take it," Kenton ordered as she sat unmoving. "Keep it safe for the time when you need it."

"Thank you, my lord," Joanne answered, reaching out and taking the pouch gingerly. It was very heavy.

Kenton smiled at her surprise. "It is gold-watch it closely." His gaze dropped to the two chests upon the desk and his smile waned. Coughing, he cleared his throat, wishing the words would come.

"I feel-I mean-you are hardly a stranger here, Lady Joanne. All here at Kentoncombe hold you in fond thought." His eyes finally rose from the desk to meet hers. The unhappiness he saw there echoed in his own. I could make myself believe there is love for me in her eyes, he thought. Hammering down his desire with an iron will, he coughed.

"Therefore I have decided-decided a gift would be proper-in the name of all here at Kentoncombe, of course." The words out, he thrust the two chests at her.

If she had not been so close to tears, so upset and confused, Joanne would have found this sudden awkwardness at odds with Kenton's usual demeanour; would have recognized the strain he was under.

Taking them, her hand touched his. The tremor of excitement that ran through her caused her to pull away quickly, unknowingly deepening Kenton's pain. "Shall I open them?" she asked in quavering tones, not daring to meet his eyes.

"If you like," Kenton replied with a strained voice.

Unsteadily, Joanne opened the larger of the two. A soft "ohh" came from her as she picked up the bracelet made up of golden, hand-wrought roses attached upon two fine gold chains.

"You seemed pleased with the necklace and I thought this would complete the set," Kenton noted. He smiled at her pleased expression. "You will have need of it now."

"It is beautiful, Jason," she breathed using only his given name as she did in her thoughts.

"Open the other," he prompted, his sorrow forgotten in her happiness.

Joanne reverently laid the bracelet in place and slowly opened the smaller chest. The same gold rose sparkled at her-this time mounted on a ring. Trembling, she removed it and held it out. "Would you-would you place it upon my hand?" Neither noticed it was her left hand she held out.

Swallowing a gulp, Kenton took the ring and eased it on. He held the hand longer than necessary, staring at the ring-he who longed to put a much plainer gold hand upon that same finger.

"Come, come," called the comtesse, throwing the study door open. She paused at the sight of the two hand in hand. "We must be off," she twittered gaily, forcing them to notice her.

"Why, what is that you have, Joanne?" she asked to ease the moment.

Kenton released her hand and Joanne threw a pain stricken look at her aunt.

The comtesse hardened her heart. This pair would have to suffer for a bit longer. "Such beautiful

gifts-they match the necklace, do they not? But we must not tarry. Put them in you reticule.

"Here, I have brought it and your pelisse."

Taking the wrap from the comtesse, Kenton gently placed it upon Joanne's shoulders.

The older woman took the younger's hand and let the way. When they reached the carriage, she

manoeuvred it so Kenton handed Joanne in first. When he a.s.sisted her, she smiled brightly.

"I do hope you change your mind about coming. It would please me very much. Promise me you shall think on it?"

He nodded. "And you promise to inform me if Furness should cause any problem."

At that moment Dr. Ames's gig clattered down the road. The young physician jumped from it as a groom

s.n.a.t.c.hed the horse's bridle. "I feared I would miss you," he gasped quite out of breath from his trip and

the dash to the coach.

"Mrs. Sidney has a son-I feared for time the birth would make me too late but the babe arrived and I am happily come. My lady," he said bowing and kissing the comtesse's hand.

"I shall miss you, Dr. Ames. Perhaps you can persuade Lord Jason to come to London and join him on his journey."

"I shall try," he a.s.sured her.

"Till we meet again then," she smiled and impulsively kissed his cheek. "Adieu."

Kenton took the comtesse's hand to help her into the coach. Ames turned to Joanne, who sat leaning her head out the open window. She reached out and he took her hand, kissing it. "Take care, Sister."

"And you." She squeezed his hand. "Look after him for me?"

He nodded.

Slamming the coach door, Kenton signalled Ben to start out.

gone.

"They are on their way," Ames noted.

"Yes," Kenton said tiredly. Then, "Come-join me in a gla.s.s of port."

"Not so early in the day," laughed Ames. "No. I am for home and bed. But I shall sup with you this eve."

"I may not be able to sup," Kenton clipped sternly, "but come if you will."

Ames pressed Kenton's shoulder. He gave him a hard look before he left. His friend was taking it hard.

He hoped the comtesse was right. That all would be well in the end.

Chapter Seventeen.

Tight-lipped, cheeks furrowed into a deep frown, Lady Joanne Knoll endured still another pinp.r.i.c.k.

"Sorry, milady," the seamstress mumbled through a mouthful of pins. "'Tis almost done."

"Thank G.o.d," Joanne returned.

The woman kneeling at the hem shook her head. Usually the young ones weren't so bold with their tongues as this one. But then she was older than most just come to London. Having learned to hold her tongue long ago, the seamstress turned her thoughts back to her work.

Needle and thread darted in and out of the green water silk gown like an adder through the gra.s.s. The last st.i.tch in place, she sighed and rose. "That'll be all for now, my lady." Wrinkled, pinp.r.i.c.ked hands unfastened the b.u.t.tons, then dropped to the seamstress's side as Joanne motioned her away. It was a most curious fact that this particular young lady shrugged off-no, repelled a.s.sistance. That she disrobed and dressed herself.

"Will they be ready on the day set?" questioned Joanne.

"Of course, milady," the seamstress said with a curtsy. Long nights and short candles to be sure until Thursday, was her thought.

"Bring them as soon as you complete the last. I shall take the petticoats and other undergarments with me now."

"Yes, milady. I will ready them for you. Only a moment please," the seamstress excused herself.

"The fittings are done I see." The comtesse smiled at her niece as he came into the room like a bright ray of light.

Joanne made a face and nodded. "Well that it is the last," she snapped. "I have seen enough of cloth, seamstress, milliner, feathers-all of it."

"But why?" teasingly laughed the comtesse. "These things make life worthwhile. Recall, your goal is to snare a lord who is rich enough to ensure a lifetime of shopping. What would life be if we could not "We are almost at an end of it for a time, at least," her aunt comforted her. "Do you not enjoy it-even a little?" she asked, curiosity winning out.

"Mayhap-at least at the beginning, but it has grown so tiresome. I feel like a cat who rolled into a bunch of nettles and for what-to be groomed like a filly for sale. Constantly pinched and poked about. I would almost wear what I have. The little seamstress from Ilfracombe was not so clumsy. Oh, for the peace of my days at-"