"No longer a stick of a child are you, Ellen?" he teased.

The little girl gurgled happily but covered her eyes shyly.

"Run along. Give this to Asteron," Kenton told Ellen, setting her down and giving her a piece of carrot. "I'll be right along."

"Her health is almost totally repaired," Ames answered the question before it was asked. "She now plays with the other children-takes hearty enjoyment in their games. But she has yet to speak. Let us hope this gurgling laughter which we hear from time to time means there is hope she shall one day.

"I never told Lady Joanne the extent to which the child had been abused-beaten almost to death before she was put in that basket on the hospital steps. Mayhap she only needs to learn to trust us enough to speak or mayhap she needs to have a great enough reason to break her silence." He began to add that the little girl had received a letter from Joanne but decided against it.

"Ellen cares for you. One day she may speak for you."

Kenton nodded. "For her sake I hope so. I believe I'll not keep her out too long this day. There is a chill in the air." With a wave he strode to Asteron. Tossing the little girl into the saddle, he gave the lad holding the reins a penny and mounted.

"Would you like a gallop today?" he asked, settling in the saddle.

Her eager smile a.s.sured him and they were off. Later, as they rode back toward Irwin, Kenton gave her a tight hug as she sat before him. "Do you miss Lady Joanne, Ellen? But I ask that every time, don't I?" he continued as she solemnly nodded.

"I hope you don't miss her as I do." He stared straight ahead. "Remember the time she gave you the doll and you led me to her?" His voice choked as he recalled the feel of Joanne in his arms, the fragrance of Ellen turned and reached up. She brushed his cheek as if wiping a tear away, then repeated the action upon her own cheek.

"What will we do, Ellen? I love her so." His voice quivered with the intensity of repressed feelings.

If only she were in my arms. G.o.d, he thought, and looked away from the little girl's sorrowful stare,almost overcome.

Ellen reached up and tightened her arms about his neck. A crooning sound came from her lips. As Joanne had sang to comfort her, Ellen now tried to comfort Kenton.

The days had pa.s.sed uneventful since then and suddenly it was the day the comtesse had appointed for her ball.

Ames had walked into the study that afternoon unannounced, as had become his habit. Kenton was seated at his desk staring out the windows. The set of his shoulders, the veins extended along the side of his neck bespoke trouble. "Lord Jason?"

"I have heard from Furness," came the cold reply. "He demands his 'property' be shipped to London.

He states that her future is settled."

"Then he does not know-"

"The comtesse has managed to keep the secret, but tonight it will be too late. I never should have agreed."

"But what can he do among so many? The comtesse is no fool. She will have taken measures."

"No woman is a match for Furness. Joanne is not safe. He must mean he has arranged a match. What devil has he bought for a husband?" Torture hoa.r.s.ened his voice. "I leave for London in an hour. Are you with me?"

"Arrangements must be made for my patients-the children," Ames sputtered, disconcerted at this unexpected turn.

"Then I go alone."

Ames disliked-distrusted the look upon Kenton's face. Furness would not be safe. "No, no, I can come. Let me fetch some clothing and speak with Dr. Fowler. I shall return within the hour. Do not depart without me." He awaited a.s.surance.

"I shall not wait long. Do not tarry."

So here I am, thought Ames, looking again at Kenton with a frown. Was this the man he meant to save from himself? From his demeanour one would think they were simply taking the children on a picnic not trying to break the record time for reaching London. And the record for the number of bruises a man could have upon his ill-used body.

Chapter Eighteen.

"Why, my dear Lord Furness," the vision of silk and lace said coyly.

His lordship haughtily took the hand offered. He brushed it lightly with his lips as he bowed. Straightening, Furness took in the comtesse's pet.i.te figure now swathed in lilac silk, her tiny waist emphasized by the puffed skirt and low-cut stomacher. Swirls of gathered lace of a deeper hue decorated the skirt and sleeves and tiny embroidered shoes were just visible beneath her gown's hem.

The comtesse's powdered hair was dressed in elaborate curls; tucks of lace as in her gown adorned the work. She now took refuge behind the delicate lilac silk fan to hide her repugnance at his inspection.

"Dear sister," rolled from Furness' practiced tongue, "it is much to my regret that I did not know of your presence in London until now."

"It is as I wished. I have not been about much since my husband's death."

"Many will rejoice that you have ended your mourning."

"Only a cause so dear to both of us is responsible, my lord." The comtesse arched her brows with implied meaning.

"Yes?" Furness responded, both puzzled and attracted.

"But, my lord, why do you feign no knowledge?" she asked.

Drawing the attention of those at the foot of the stairs on which they stood, the comtesse spoke loudly, "This is your proud moment, Lord Furness, and I only the humble servant." She twittered and elaborately fanned herself.

Gossiping among her guests ceased as they turned and strained to hear this conversation. Furness' reputation was well known and his presence a surprise for most of those invited. The comtesse, while not socializing widely, was known by many; few realized the relationship between the two.

Messieurs, mesdames, et mesdemoiselles," the comtesse proclaimed, her gaze sweeping over the ballroom. "Few of you know that my dear departed sister was Lord Furness' wife."

Surprise showed on many-bafflement on Lord Furness.

"From their union was born a daughter." She smiled sweetly at Furness and was chilled by what she saw but continued. "It is with utmost pleasure that I have taken the child under my guidance for my poor brother. I wish now to introduce her to all of you."

The comtesse and Furness stood midway up the grand staircase that curved from the ballroom to the upper floor of private rooms, which were opened this eve so that the guests could refresh themselves and rest if they wished. At the top of the stairs now appeared a tall figure, the satin gown moulded at the bodice and flowed wide from the back and waist in the popular sack style. The leaf-green was glossy against the flawless pink-hued skin of bust and arms. Tiny pink roses were scattered through the curls of the modest coiffure of white. The face resembled Furness' in looks while the haughty cast and proud bearing were irrefutable proof of kinship. Joanne met her father's eyes without wavering; accepted the challenge despite the fear pulsing through her. Slowly, grandly, she descended to within a step of the comtesse.

"Charming, is she not?"

The man stood in shock. A practiced gamester, his composure held and his face did not betray the welter of emotion coursing through his veins. Never had he imagined. Never.

"Will you do the honour of leading me in dance?" The comtesse touched his arm lightly. "My guests await." A flick of her fan brought a dark-haired gentleman to their side.

"You know Lord Humbolt, my lord. He has consented to lead Lady Joanne."

With a chilling smile and slight sneer, Furness bowed to the comtesse. He conceded momentary victory and extended his hand. Leading her down the steps, he said softly, "I underestimated you, my lady."

"Thank you, my lord," she quipped in return.

"This eve shall not be forgotten. I owe you much," Furness continued. "And Lord Jason as well."

When she looked up, the comtesse's brave spirit faltered. The devil himself could not have played the part better.

Joanne's confidence grew as her father showed no overt reaction. Her fear had been for his temper. He had vented his spleen upon her too often for her not to be wary. Matching steps with Lord Humbolt, she even dared to think she might please her father.

Hope continued to flare as she glanced at the two leading the dance. The love she had sought so desperately-for which she had told herself repeatedly she had no need-seemed suddenly attainable. As with all creatures, the bond of parentage held fast in her. No matter what the past, the longing to be loved existed still.

The discipline that Kenton had instilled and the comtesse had refined held Joanne in good stead when, at the close of the first set, she and her aunt changed partners.

Furness said nothing as he stood before her, waiting for the music to begin. Neither approval nor disapproval showed, only the familiar masked coldness. As he did not speak, she also did not.

As the dance ended, he bowed over her hand and kissed it lightly. Her heart thrilled. Her father had never touched her kindly before. Then Joanne was plummeted to the depths by the look of hatred that flared, then was hidden as he straightened.

"Your mother would be pleased," he said icily, not looking at her as she allowed him to place her hand upon his arm.

When another claimed Joanne for the next country set, she blushed as Furness noted with undue volume, "I shall not have a daughter long-marry she will." His eyes bored into hers and she sensed a threat. "And soon," he added.

Through the rest of the night Joanne went over and over those words-the only words he had spoken to Many drawn to meet Joanne during the eve, attracted by her father's reputation, were charmed by the serious daughter so unlike Furness. Memories of her haughtiness were broken by the charm of her smile.

Lack of the frivolity and shyness that most green girls had in excess was an a.s.set for Joanne. Her education and wide reading made her an interesting conversationalist and as the week pa.s.sed she became a favourite for sensible chats among old and young alike. Under the tutelage of the comtesse, Joanne managed a few skills of the flirt but, despite her aunt's encouragement and example, she used them rarely.

The days pa.s.sed in morning calls, afternoons in the park, evenings at the various a.s.semblies. The comtesse and Lord Furness' daughter became a popular sight, sought after by small and grand hostesses alike.

If any noted the lack of attention Furness paid his daughter, few gave it any importance. If anything, she was aided by his absence. His intimates, surprised to find his lordship with so comely a daughter after having seen Joanne at Furness House, learned quickly not to speak of her in his presence.

"Must we go?" Joanne asked petulantly. "I am exhausted. Could we not stay home this one eve?"

"Nonsense," laughed the comtesse. "I had quite forgotten the thrill of the social whirl. Think, there are eight weeks more. Do you not delight in being surrounded-sought after?" She patted a powdered curl in place.

"It brings to mind the gay days in Paris." The cast of sadness that swooped upon her she determinedly repelled.

"We have just begun and must make the best use of all this attention. The ton is fickle. Even Richard Sheridan has been complimentary of your looks and that is a feat on your part. The poor man is being harried to death to finish his latest work. I hear it is to be ent.i.tled 'The School for Scandal.'" She studied Joanne for a moment and pouted.

"You do not find that interessant?" Do you not know how fortunate you are to take such a man's notice?

Have you found none attractive?"

Shrugging, Joanne turned to her mirror. "There are those who could be termed handsome, but they lack a-a maturity. Those that have age lack-looks."

The comtesse smiled knowingly. "I see. You find none that interest you as a husband?"

Jason came instantly to mind. A blush crept over Joanne's cheeks.

"Ah, then there is someone. But I shall not be a tease." The comtesse patted her niece's hand. "Hurry-I do not wish to arrive too late. Lord Perton has promised I shall find the night interesting," she winked.