A monotone rumble replied, as the footmen tripped over one another retreating, and Nicholas resumed his place at the table looking daggers.

"That wasn't necessary, Nicholas," said Sara. "They all know I'm under guard."

"Yes, but they don't know why, and I'd rather they not be privy to... certain matters. They've enough

ammunition for manufacturing on-dits as it is. The breakfast room is not the place for such a conversation, Sara."

"Oh, I know," she served, "but it seems to be the only place in this house where we can converse on equal footing. If that is due to the footmen eavesdropping, then 1 say-God bless them for it!"

"You will have hall boys stationed outside your door until Alex is found and dealt with," said Nicholas. "That is not negotiable now, nor will it ever be in future. Have you so soon forgotten what occurred in your suite?"

"You do not trust me, and that is insulting."

"I do not trust him, and you are evidently no match for his prowess. So much for keeping him in hisplace.""That's not fair. I was sound asleep when he... when-""When he tried to molest you?""He was foxed, Nicholas.""And you would have been raped just the same but for... Nero. How did Alex gain entrance, Sara? I'll tell you how, you left the door ajar-just as I found it up there when I came to fetch you down tobreakfast. I should think you'd have learned your lesson... unless-""Don't you dare finish that sentence, Nicholas Walraven, don't you dare!"

Nicholas heaved a mammoth sigh. "Sara," he said, in that sensuous baritone voice that melted her to the marrow. She could deal with his anger, but not that deep, resonant silki-ness that had the power to arouse her from across the room. "This is hardly a permanent situation," he went on. "Once Alex is found -"

"Find him, then!" she cried, vaulting to her feet. She had to call the anger back. It was her only defense against this paradox of a man who had tied her heart in knots. "Because, I tell you here and now, I did not come to Ravencliff to be held prisoner. I could have stayed where I was for that!" Did he flinch? The muscles in his broad jaw were ticking, and he was on his feet again, but he made no move toward her, and she went on speaking while she still had the upper hand. "I will not stay where I am held captive again-never again!" she seethed, hurling her serviette down. "And, do not forget, I saw that last night, Nicholas. You nearly killed that poor animal. The servants in this house are just as hard-hearted in that regard. I've heard them talking. Why Nell alone is harping on getting rid of him each time she opens her mouth. I don't know what is going on here, but I warn you-you can mark my words, nothing had better happen to Nero in this house. Ever! Not while I'm residing in it."

Spinning on her heel, she marched out of the breakfast room. This time, there wasn't a footman in sight.

"Sara!" Nicholas called after her, tossing his serviette down. There was no reply, and he skirted the table and strode out into the corridor. She had already reached the second-floor landing. Through the gloom that presided over the halls, fair weather or foul, he caught a glimpse of her sprigged muslin frock melting into the shadows as she turned toward her suite. He bolted after her, but the thunderous crack of the front door knocker echoing along the hallway stopped him in his tracks. Who the devil can that be? he wondered. The knock came again. It sounded urgent. The racket brought Smythe shuffling along the corridor tugging at his frock coat and muttering complaints.

The butler scarcely acknowledged him as he passed, and Nicholas raked his hair back, his eyes oscillating between Sara disappearing and the sound of raised voices funneling along the great hall at his back. He was ready to spring, but in which direction? Like a pendulum, swinging this way and that, he swayed there, trying to decide.

"The Devil take it!" he mumbled at last. Spinning around on the heels of his turned-down boots, he sprinted down the corridor toward the front door.

Smythe was standing in the open doorway arguing with three men in drab stuff breeches, short coats, and low-crown wide-brim hats. Guards from the Watch?

"What the deuce is going on here, Smythe?" Nicholas demanded, ranging himself alongside. "I could hear you clear back to the breakfast room."

"Captain Renkins, m'lord," the leader spoke up before the butler could answer. He doffed his hat. "Your man here don't seem to understand. We have to come in. There's been a complaint."

"What sort of complaint?" said Nicholas, struggling with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. What was this now?

"We've come about a vicious dog," said the Captain.

"That animal again?" the butler grumbled low-voiced.

"That will be all, Smythe. I'll handle this," said Nicholas through clenched teeth. Dismissing him with a look that booked no argument, he turned to the guards. "Gentlemen, if you will follow me... ?"

He led them to the study. No use to have the whole house privy to this new press, though he had no doubt the rafters would be ringing with it once Smythe reached the servants' quarters. Ushering the guards inside, he closed the door behind them, and took his seat behind the desk "Now then, gentlemen," he said, "what is all this about a dog?"

The three men stood ramrod-rigid before him, the captain in the center seeming the only one possessed of a tongue. The others stood like bookends at his side. Nicholas did not invite them to sit.

"The young chap says it might be rabid," said the captain. "He's got the village in an uproar over it, m'lord. Folks won't rest easy now until we know. We'll have to see the animal to be certain."

"What 'young chap'?" Nicholas asked, as the blood drained away from his scalp. His nostrils flared, and the short hairs on the back of his neck stood up as gooseflesh riddled his spine.

"Fella by the name of Jeremy Peters-says he was one of your staff here till you sacked him. Says he was of a mind to give his notice anyway because the animal attacked him. Folks ain't safe with a creature like that roaming about."

"Ah! That explains it," Nicholas responded, with as much authority as he could muster. "Peters was sacked for diddling one of the maids when he was supposed to be at his post-not that that's any business of the Watch. Your 'complaint' is nothing more than the vindictive ramblings of a disgruntled servant, plain and simple." He surged to his feet. "Now, if that is all, you really must excuse me. I have urgent business to attend to this morning." He started toward the door, but the captain's gruff voice turned him back.

"That may be, m'lord," Renkins said, "but we still have to have a look at the animal."

"There is no dog!" Nicholas said in a raised voice. Anger sent hot blood rushing to his temples, and he worked white-knuckled fists at his sides, wishing he could get his hands upon the traitorous hall boy. He took deep measured breaths in a vain attempt to quell the rage building inside. He dared not succumb to anger now and risk transformation before their very eyes.

"That's not what your butler said," the captain returned. "I heard him plain as day just now."

"My butler, sir, has gone addled with age. I keep him here out of pity. I am master of this house, and if I say there is no dog, there is no dog! And even if there were and it were rabid, would I be standing here denying it-putting my household at risk? Would that not have been the first thing out of my butler's mouth when he opened that door out there? I assure you, gentlemen, if there were a rabid dog on Ravencliff, I would have sent for you myself."

"It's not just your butler, m'lord. The whole village is in an uproar over the tales your hirelings have spread about the animal you keep out here."

"Then Peters must have put them up to it. The little tart he's diddling is still in my employ. She is the baroness's abi-gail until I can find a suitable maid to replace her. Then, you shall have more on-dits, I have no doubt, because the girl will be sacked as well. Now, gentlemen, I don't mean to be rude, but I really must be about my business."

"Young Peters says that dog you ain't got out here bit your steward, and that he ain't been seen since. What have you got to say to that, m'lord?"

"I dismissed my steward a sennight ago," said Nicholas seamlessly. "He was bitten all right-jug-bitten, not dog bitten, I assure you. When he sobers up and hauls his arse back out here for the rest of his belongings, I shall send him 'round to tell you so himself."

The three men stood their ground, studying him. Did they believe him? The captain's knit brows and pursed lips didn't bode well.

Transformation was imminent. Between his argument with Sara and this new press, it was only a matter of time before Nero made a liar of him. The soul-shattering palpitations had begun inside-the dizzying nausea and narrowed vision that always warned him it was time to shed his clothes in preparation, for the phenomenon had begun. That couldn't happen here, in front of three guards from the Watch, and he sketched a dramatic bow and swept his arm wide in one last attempt to be rid of them before it was too late.

"Very well, gentlemen," he said, "since I see we shall have no peace until I submit to this ridiculous affront, be my guest. Search the house from top to bottom if needs must-anything so that I can get on with my affairs. I have a house-guest in residence-a prominent London physician. I am behindhand for a tour of the estate I promised him this morning. He's going to think we are barbarians here on the coast: servants spreading scandalous lies, guards banging our door down at the crack of dawn... If you would rather take the word of a lying little weasel of a put-off malcontent than that of a baron, have at it! I shan't stand in your way, just stay out of mine. And if you find a dog on this estate, I shall have Cook roast it with an apple in its mouth and I will eat it for my supper. You gentlemen may join me. Well? What are you waiting for? Get on with it, then." He reached the door in three strides, and flung it wide with a clammy hand.

Standing motionless until then, the captain broke his trancelike stance, and meandered toward the door. The others followed. Were they going to take him up on the offer? Nicholas held his breath as the captain on the threshold turned to face him.

"That won't be necessary, m'lord... for now," he said. "But if I hear of any more complaints, you can bet your blunt that we'll be back, and if there is a predator lurking about, we'll run it to ground, sure as check -four-legged or two."

"Just what is that supposed to mean?" said Nicholas.

"It means, m'lord, that I ain't so green as I'm cabbage-looking. Something just don't set right with me about this, and if I have to come back out here over it, I won't be put off till I've found out just what that something is."

"Just so," said Nicholas, frosty-voiced. "If something untoward were afoot, I would insist upon it. Now then, if Peters encountered a dog it must have been a stray-none of mine. And if I set eyes upon it, I shan't need you to run it to ground, I assure you. I can hold my own at Manton's Gallery with the best of them. Rabid dog indeed! Now, good morning, gentlemen."

Nicholas slammed the door to the master suite with force enough to set it off its hinges, bringing Mills from his adjoining rooms, clothes brush and Nicholas's best dinner jacket in hand.

"Has something untoward happened, my lord?"

"Untoward? You might say that, Mills," said Nicholas. "We've just had the guards in from the Watch."

"The guards, my lord?" Mills asked. "Whatever for?"

"It seems that Peters has spread the tale that Nero attacked him, and bit Alex."

"Oh, my lord! What are we going to do?"

"Nothing, Mills," Nicholas pronounced. "They've gone... for now. But they will be back, I have no

doubt. The whole staff has been spreading rumors in the village that we have a rabid animal out here."

"Did you convince them otherwise, my lord?" said Mills.

"I wouldn't count upon it. I told them to go ahead and search the place, and they cried off."

"Was that wise, my lord, considering? Suppose they had taken you up on it? I wouldn't try that strategy

again as things are here now, if you take my meaning."

Nicholas scarcely heard. "By God," he said, pacing like a caged animal. "The staff is going to be called to

account for this. Before I'm through, they'll wish they'd kept their traitorous jaws from flapping. No one leaves this house again until I've addressed this with every servant below stairs. Pass the word."

"Y-yes, my lord," said Mills."

"And that's not the whole of what's come down upon me this bedeviled morning!"

"There's more, my lord?"

Nicholas nodded. "My lady wants the hall boys dismissed. You know I cannot do that. She's still leaving

that damned door ajar, and don't you dare say 'whose fault is that,' or so help me God..."

"I haven't said a word, my lord," the valet defended.

"No, but you don't have to. You were thinking it. You read like a book, old boy."

"What are you going to do, my lord?"

"She thinks I mean Nero harm," said Nicholas, pacing the oriental carpet. "I cannot explain it to her,

Mills. She wouldn't believe me if I did. Hah! I don't even know what we're dealing with. How the Devil could I presume to explain it to her? She's certain it was Nero that I nearly shot, and she means to protect him. She loves that animal."

"She loves you, too, my lord," said the valet in a small voice.

"That doesn't help me, Mills," Nicholas growled, "it only makes matters worse, if that were possible.

Besides, I think you're wrong-I pray you are. I think you'd be of a different opinion if you heard herdown there just now.""Begging your pardon, my lord, but mightn't you curtail Nero's visits to her suite for a time?""You know the limits of my control over Nero. It's too late for that in any case. She'd only go off in search of him. That would be catastrophic now, what with Alex prow-ling about, and her penchant for finding Ravencliff's pitfalls. She's right. He has to be found, and quickly." He reached inside his waistcoat and produced a small pocket pistol, ignoring the valet's gasp. "I had to see that Dr. Breeden was armed," he went on, exhibiting the gun. "I can hardly have the man blundering about without protection. While I was at it, I chose this for myself. I couldn't very well go around toting a dueling pistol at the ready. This is compact enough to conceal on my person."

"Is... is it loaded, my lord?"

"It wouldn't be much use if it wasn't, would it, old boy?"

"I expect not. I'm just afraid..."

"The only thing you have to be afraid of, Mills, is that I should come face to face with Alex without it. Now, fetch my greatcoat-the one with the pockets."

"You're going out, my lord?"

"I'm in need of a walk on the strand," Nicholas replied. Stripping off his indigo superfine jacket and oyster-white brocade waistcoat, he handed them to the valet, and unbuttoned his shirt halfway down the front. "Believe me, you'd best hurry."

"Y-yes, my lord," said the valet, skittering off. He returned moments later with the caped greatcoat, and helped Nicholas into it.

"See that her ladyship is escorted to the breakfast room when the time comes," Nicholas said, jamming the pistol into his coat pocket. "I doubt I shall be back in time for nun-cheon."

Sara should have been working on the rest of the menus for Dr. Breeden's stay, but she was far too overset to take that on. Traveling back and forth before the window in her sitting room, she tried to order her thoughts. The storm had blown over, but the wind still had its bluster. Though the sun remained hidden behind dense cloud cover, the drafts seeping in around the mullioned panes seemed milder, if such a thing could be.

The hall boy was still stationed outside. How she hated imprisonment, for that was how she saw her situation. Nothing had been settled. She should have stayed until she'd won her freedom. Now she would have to confront Nicholas again over the issue. Her posture collapsed. He would never give in, but then, neither would she. Nero had to have access to her. The poor starved creature needed food, and friendship-someone he could trust. But she couldn't betray Nell; the abigail was right that she would be blamed if they were caught out. So the hall boys had to go.

Passing by the window, Sara glanced below in time to see Nicholas descending the stone steps hewn in the cliff, his greatcoat spread wide on the wind. She rang for Nell. It was only minutes before the maid scurried in, sketching a curtsy, but it seemed an eternity to Sara, her eyes fixed on the place where she'd last seen Nicholas on the cliff.

"Fetch my pelerine," she charged the girl.

"Ya can't go out, my lady!" the girl breathed. "The hall boy'll see ya."

"The hall boy will see us both, Nell," she replied. "We are going to take a little stroll. I am allowed, so long as I'm escorted. I shall make a comment regarding the drafts in this mausoleum to excuse my wrapper for the benefit of my jailer out in that hall. Now hurry. You are going to show me how to get out on that cliff."

Chapter Fifteen.

Under protest, Nell led Sara to a side door, recessed in much the same manner as the priest hole door was, behind the back stairs. Obscured by tapestries, the exit was well disguised, something left over from the house's smuggler days, Sara surmised. She never would have found it on her own. A narrow passageway connected it to a rear entrance to the servants' quarters that she didn't even know existed. It was a true service entrance, which didn't make any sense unless one were a smuggler, because the cliff was not accessible from the main drive. Only through the narrow gate in a high stone wall was it possible to reach the cliff from the front of Ravencliff Manor. That portal, hewn of thick, seasoned timbers and crisscrossed with iron bars, like something that belonged on a medieval fortress, was always locked; as a safety precaution, so said Nell.