He slid his hand along her arched throat, and spread the wrapper wide, then tore the sash from his dressing gown and wrenched her against his naked hardness. Sara held her breath. Seizing her hand, he drove it down to his sex. She uttered a muffled cry through lips trapped beneath his bruising mouth as it responded to her touch, throbbing like a pulse beat. He drew his head back, gulping air, his hooded eyes dilated with desire.

"Does this feel as though I do not want you, Sara?" he panted, wrapping her fingers around his engorged member. "It is all I can do to resist you... to keep from ravishing you, but I can, and I will, because I must. I cannot have the luxury of you in that way."

"But why?"

"I cannot tell you why... not yet... perhaps, not ever. That remains to be seen." He released his grip on her wrist. Her flesh was on fire. It was as though molten lava were flowing through her belly and thighs, moistening the mound between her legs that pulsed like a heartbeat matching the rhythm of his manhood -his very life shuddering against her fingers. She let her hand slip away, and he leaned back, closing her wrapper with painstaking control. "I am asking you to trust me," he went on, "to do as I say, and give me time. I told you once that, please God, this is only temporary."

"I shall not embarrass you in front of your guest," she murmured, trying to sound as though she had command of her runaway emotions. It fell flat. How could he believe it, when she could not? She was a shambles, mortified and cold, standing there in the clinging wet negligee. Her whole body ached for the passion in his, which he denied her. Why? It was time to force the issue. "I shall advertise at once," she said.

"You cannot do that," he barked. "Baroness Walraven cannot go into service. You know better than to suggest such a thing."

"Well, be that as it may, you have until Dr. Breeden leaves to explain yourself, my lord," she said, "because, unless you do, when his coach arrives I shall leave in it with him."

"And go where?" he returned.

"I've no idea, only that I must. If you cannot answer me by then, I will have to conclude that I am right, or that you are mad. Either way, I will go mad if I stay. I've said my piece. It's your coil to unravel now, Nicholas."

He snatched a towel from the chiffonier. "Cover up. You shall catch your death," he said, as though he'd just realized she was standing barefoot in a puddle of scented water, in a wrapper still dripping on the parquetry. "I shall make your excuses. You cannot come downstairs in such a state. I shall have Mrs. Bromley fetch up a dinner tray, and an herbal tea to warm you. Dr. Breeden has prescribed a rose hips tonic... to build you back up after your ordeal in the priest hole."

"I don't need 'building up,'" she snapped.

"You will do as he says," said Nicholas unequivocally. "I shan't have consumption on my conscience. It's burdened enough over you as it is."

"To borrow your favorite phrase, 'do we have an understanding,' Nicholas?" she said, clutching the towel against her.

"Sara-"

"And I want the hall boys dismissed from my suite at once," she put in. "I will not live under guard."

"That has already been done," he said on a sigh. "I... I concede on that one point, but only so long as you keep your doors latched. Alex has not turned up yet. While he is at large, you are in danger. I know you do not understand this, but you must obe-humor me in this." He tugged his dressing gown closed in front. He was still aroused, and he raked back the damp hair from his brow. She took a step toward him. "No!" he growled, backing away. "Do not touch me! Do not tempt me... again-never again!"

"Very well, Nicholas," she said, "but there is one more condition. Do not think to harm that dog. You are not to lift one finger against him again, or I shall have the guards in. I shall leave in the clothes I came in. You may keep everything you've given me, but when I go, Nero goes with me."

He turned on his heel and stormed from the dressing room then. She flinched when the door slammed, though she watched him fling it shut. Frozen to the spot, she stared after him for a long moment. When she took a step toward the bell pull to summon Nell, her foot caught in something and she tripped. It was Nicholas's dressing gown sash. Snatching it up, she ran through her suite, through the bedchamber to the foyer only to pull up short on the threshold.

The door was wide open, and there, in a crumpled heap at her feet, lay his dressing gown spilling into the hall. Nicholas was nowhere in sight.

Nero ran in circles before the hearth in the master suite dressing room, his plaintive howl echoing over the voice of the storm. Faster and faster he pranced, his sharp nails clacking on the hearthstone and his footpads thudding on the Aubusson carpet, as his path grew ever wider, skirting Mills, who was standing with a quilted throw at the ready.

He howled again, a mournful supplication trailing off on the wind, and sprang into the air, no more than a blur of shaggy fur and sinew expanding to Nicholas's full height, surging into a sweaty mass of naked flesh and muscle, whose cords were strung like bowstrings. Panting and heaving like the animal he had left behind, Nicholas dropped to his knees before the hearth, his tousled head bowed.

It had happened again. Twice in one day. Dry sobs and a moan left his throat, and he pounded the parquetry at the edge of the rug with both his clenched fists.

"Take ease, my lord," said Mills, covering him with the throw. "It's over now." A mad, misshapen laugh was Nicholas's reply, and the valet took hold of his arm. "Here, let me help you up."

"I left my dressing gown behind in her rooms," Nicholas groaned, struggled to his feet.

"You have other dressing gowns, my lord," said the valet, settling him in the wing chair. "I shall fetch you another at once."

"That isn't the point," Nicholas returned. "How shall I explain it?"

"I'm sure I don't know, my lord. Calm yourself. There's nothing to be done about it now. I shall be but a moment."

Nicholas leaned his head back against the tufted chair-back, and indulged in a long, lingering moan. No region of his body was exempt from the pain of the stressful transfor-mation, no tendon spared the torturous effects of strain. Making matters worse, his libido was charged, as it always seemed to be when he was exhausted. He was beyond exhausted now, and there had been no release. His sex still throbbed for need of her-still grew for want of her, and he shifted uneasily in the chair.

Mills shuffled back across the threshold carrying a blue brocade and satin dressing gown, and helped him into it. His cordial waited on the chiffonier, and the valet brought it to him.

"Drink it, my lord-all of it," he said, offering the strong-smelling concoction.

"It's too late for the damnable nostrum now," Nicholas snapped, refusing the glass.

"For this time, perhaps," the valet persisted. "Please, my lord, you were doing so well."

Another mad laugh was his response, and after a moment, Nicholas took the glass and tossed back the cordial with a grimace.

"You mustn't be discouraged, my lord."

"Mustn't I?" Nicholas growled. "I've dismissed the hall boys from her suite, and made a fool of myself doing it after swearing not to."

"Was that wise, my lord?"

"It was necessary," Nicholas returned, "else one of them see what happened to me just now. I knew I was at risk for the transformation when I went down there. That's why I couldn't chance it fully dressed. It was a wise decision. I almost didn't make it out of her rooms, Mills. I know she won't lock that door, and now she's unprotected. I shall have to keep watch myself, whenever I can, which shan't be easy, while Dr. Breeden is in residence. I've neglected him shamefully what with all this."

"Believe me, he understands, my lord. Why, he's closeted in that herbarium below stairs day and night. He isn't here to socialize. He knows that."

"I want you to make up the bed in the green suite across the hall from my lady's apartments, and take some of my things down there. I'm too far removed up here to be any use in an emergency should one arise, which is almost a foregone conclusion considering her past record in this house. Do it yourself. I do not want the staff privy to this. It will only arouse suspicion, and give the servants more fodder for stories we can ill afford here now."

"Yes, my lord."

"You shall attend me here as usual during the day. I will have to fend for myself in the green suite, so see that I have everything I need. You cannot be seen coming and going."

"Yes, my lord. I shall attend to it while you are at dinner."

"My lady will not be joining us in the dining hall. She is having a tray in her rooms. Take care that she doesn't see you, and look sharp. 1 needn't remind you that Alex is still missing. I shall be closeted with Dr. Breeden in the master suite after dinner until quite late. Perhaps you ought to stay in the green suite until I relieve you. She has given me an ultimatum. I have until the doctor leaves to explain myself, or she will leave also, i cannot let her do that, Mills. She has nowhere to go, and she'll end up right back in that bridewell carted off to the brothels."

"Very well, my lord," said the valet. "Begging your pardon, but don't you think you should tell her? With Dr. Breeden here to address both your concerns-"

"Tell her what, Mills?"

"About her real role in this madness. It is, after all, the reason you chose her-because you felt of all the females in the realm, this one might be persuaded to understand... to end your loneliness. My heart goes out to you, my lord, but you have to take the initiative and trust someone. You cannot expect it of her and not return it in kind."

"If I tell her the whole truth, about her father's involvement in all this, I shall have to tell her the rest."

"Not necessarily, my lord. Mightn't you just tell her enough to appease, just... something? You cannot let her go, my lord. You love her... and she loves you."

"Well, it isn't quite that simple, old boy, because she loves someone else, as well."

"My lord?"

His lips gave a wry smile. "She has just informed me that when she leaves, she's taking Nero with her."

Chapter Seventeen.

"The technique I wish to try is not my own, my lord," said Breeden. "I learned it under the tutelage of Anton Mesmer over forty years ago. I was not yet twenty, as green as grass, and awestruck by the great theosophist, unable to believe my good fortune in being able to study at his home and hospital on the Landstrasse in Vienna. Early on, he practiced healing with the use of magnetized objects with much success, but shortly after I joined him, his methods changed. You see, he began employing what he called 'animal magnetism' in his practice, and that was the beginning of his downfall, I'm afraid."

"Animal magnetism, sir? Wasn't there some sort of brouhaha about Mesmer, and his practices?"

The doctor nodded, taking a sip of sherry from his glass. They were seated in the sitting room of Nicholas's suite, where the doctor had assembled an eclectic assortment of objects on the drum table.

"Yes, there was," said Breeden, "and still is. According to Mesmer, 'animal magnetism' is a substance, an invisible liq-uid, if you will, which can neither be seen, felt, smelled, touched, or tasted, that every man does possess, in different degrees of strength. This substance can be employed to heal... and to adjust the consciousness, so that suggestions might be given the recipient of the therapy that will evoke behavioral change."

"But we have already dismissed the theory that my condition exists only in my mind."

"Yes, we have," said Breeden. "However, the mind can be trained to overcome all sorts of physical behavior."

"And you are hoping-"

"I am hoping that some of Anton Mesmer's theories might benefit you, my lord. To what degree, I cannot say. You are quite correct about the brouhaha. It's only fair to warn you that he was denounced as a charlatan in Austria for his animal-magnetism therapy. He went to Paris, where he wrote a report hoping to redeem himself, in which he stated that animal magnetism was not some sort of mysterious secret cure-all as the Austrians feared, but rather a scientific phenomenon that wanted study in order to reap its benefits for mankind.

"His cures were phenomenal. The clergy, of course, attributed all that to the Devil, but the French aristocracy revered him as a saint. He had much success, and the favor of the Queen of France, but the King ordered an investigation. While the appointed committee could not fault Mesmer's results, they would not sanction something too illusive to be perceived by the five senses, and he was denounced again. Then came the Revolution. With neither fame nor fortune, and having lost what friends those attributes attract, he left Paris and settled somewhere near Zurich. Then two years ago, he went to Meersburg, where he died this past March, working amongst the poor. I tell you all this because I shan't use methods of which you do not approve. My personal belief is that the man was ahead of his time, and that one day his methods will be appreciated-even revered. There is no question that they work; how well in your case, remains to be seen."

"You have used these methods on others?" said Nicholas.

"Yes, but none with your particular affliction."

"What must I do?"

"Relatively little, my lord," said the doctor. "Little more than you've already done."

"I don't understand..."

"When you were shot, and in pain, while we waited for Mills to bring Mrs. Bromley's nostrum, I used my 'powers,' if you will, of animal magnetism, which Dr. Mesmer helped me develop in my training, to ease your suffering. Do you remember?"

"I remember you telling me to concentrate upon your words... upon the candle."

"And what happened, my lord, when you did as I bade you?"

"The pain was lessened. We had an almost normal conversation."

The doctor nodded. "I was trying to see if you would be receptive to my methods."

"And... was I?"

"To a degree," said the doctor. "You have a very strong will, my lord; stronger than most. You fought the passionflower tea to a fare-thee-well in order to stay in control, and suffered needlessly for it. I believe the only reason my method succeeded somewhat was because you were unaware of what I was doing, and you were in great pain. It remains to be seen if I can treat you with full knowledge of the process. You need to learn to trust, my lord."

"So says Mills as well," Nicholas responded on the tail of a weary sigh. "I have too long trusted no one but myself completely enough to relinquish control to another-not even to him, and he has seen me through this nightmare from the beginning."

"Mills was your father's valet as well, I believe you said?"

"Yes."

"And he can give no insight into your father's condition after being bitten in India?"

"Only that Father suffered from dreadful headaches, and often became irritable. The wound never healed, and toward the end, he spent more time away from Ravencliff than he did on the estate. Whatever his condition, he confided in no one, which was probably why Mills insinuated himself into my dilemma early on. He sensed that something was terribly wrong. Father shut him out, and Mills was devastated when he died. I don't believe he has ever recovered from the guilt of not being able to help Father while he lived. He was determined not to let that be the case with me.

"I'm sure you've noticed that our relationship is something more than simply that of valet and master, and that I oftentimes allow him to speak out of turn, as it were. Aside from the obvious, Mills has been surrogate father, father-confessor, mentor, guardian, and friend to me since I could stand without my knees buckling, and the conventional rules are often bent where he is concerned. The staff is accustomed to it, but it can be jarring to an outsider used to more formal interaction between the upper classes and their servants, which is why I mention it. Also, do not be afraid to employ him in your methods, and feel free to question him however you will. I am too close to the situation to be objective, and his opinions might be of help to you. He has witnessed almost all of my transformations, the latest just this afternoon."

"I shall avail myself, of course, my lord," said the doctor. "Meanwhile, there are several things I wish to try." He gestured toward the drum table. "I have set out several objects here that I would like to use in conjunction with animal magnetism. You will see there a simple magnet, and several other metal objects that have been magnetized as well. I shall lay them so"-he illustrated by laying his fingers on Nicholas's brow and temples-"while employing much the same method that I did when you were shot. It is most relaxing, which is what is needed if we are to achieve any measure of success."

"And those glasses there?" Nicholas asked, pointing to several brandy snifters containing varying levels of water.

"A glass armonica," said the doctor. "A primitive one, I will allow, but effective nonetheless. Dr. Mesmer had astounding results with the armonica. It is nothing more than a musical instrument, and Anton Mesmer loved music above all things. He was quite an accomplished pianist and cellist, you know. It is hardly unusual that he would find a way to utilize such an instrument as the armonica in his practice. When one moistens one's fingers and runs them around the rim of the glass, a tone is produced, depending upon the amount of water it holds. Therefore, glasses set out containing different measures of water produce different sounds. The result is music of a sort. I shall employ all these methods to induce a temporary trancelike state in you, my lord, during which I shall introduce a suggestion to your subconscious mind that will hopefully carry over into your conscious state once you awaken."

"That is all?"

"That is much, my lord. If we succeed-I say 'we' because I cannot do this alone-I will have ordered your mind to reject the transformation. What you must do is relax your guard, and trust me to do so. Nothing can be done lest you believe we will succeed."

Nicholas heaved a speculative sigh, and considered it.

"What I am saying, my lord, is that you must put yourself in my hands completely."

"I know what you're saying," said Nicholas. "And I shall, of course, do everything in my power to aid your success, but-"

"Our success," the doctor interrupted. "And there can be no 'buts,' my lord. You will either comply, or I will proceed without your knowledge to affect such a state in you that can be reached by autosuggestion. It is that, or I shall thank you for your most gracious hospitality and leave you as I found you. The choice is yours, which is why I have explained it so thoroughly. There is no risk. We shall either succeed, or we shall fail. The worst that can happen is that you will remain as you are... unchanged."

"There is no choice, Dr. Breeden," said Nicholas. "Proceed with your experiments, and let us see how we fare, eh?"

"As you wish, my lord."

"If we do succeed, is there a chance I could be cured?" Nicholas inquired.

"There is no cure, my lord," the doctor returned. "We do not even know what it is that we are trying to cure. The most we can hope for is to stop the transformations; the least, that we be able to control them satisfactorily enough for you to enjoy a somewhat normal life."

"Does that include cohabiting with my bride? Forgive my bluntness, but it is at issue, and I need to know."

The doctor hesitated. "Without animal magnetism treatments, you haven't a prayer, my lord," he said flatly. "That is, if your performance today-despite my new cordial designed to ease you in that regard- is any example. And above all, no matter what, to bring a child forth from your union could pass the condition on in either the same, or a lesser form. It's impossible to say for certain."

"But it... might be possible to consummate this marriage?"

"I say again, at the risk of repetition, you need to tell my lady. She ought to be prepared, no matter which way the pendulum swings. If she were willing to risk it, that might ease the tension in you that makes transformation under those circumstances likely. If on the other hand she is content to remain your wife without conjugal fulfillment, know-ing your predicament, that gives you another option. If she is not, or if the situation is too repugnant to her, she needs to know it now, before things go too far between you."

Nicholas sighed deeply. "She has given me an ultimatum. I am to explain myself before you leave, or she plans to leave for London with you. I cannot tell her the truth and risk her carrying tales if she chooses to leave Ravencliff, and if I don't tell her, I shall lose her. There is more. You know, of course, that she is convinced it was Nero that I fired upon. She believes I mean to be rid of him one way or another, and she intends to take him with her when she leaves."