She stood very still, her chin held high, her shoulders back. And she wondered, as she had wondered all through a disturbed night, if he was merely going to reprimand her for some unknown offensea"but then, why the formal summons to the library?a"or dismiss her or try to seduce her again. Or perhaps there was nothing momentous about the occasion at all. She waited.

aThe Honorable Miss Isabella Fleur Bradshaw,a he said very quietly, aof Heron House in Wiltshire.a Matthew had taken her seriously two days before after all, then. He had told everything. She raised her chin a notch higher.

aJewel thief and murderer,a he said, aor so the suspicion goes. Every suspected criminal is innocent, of course, until proved guilty.a Her eyes did not waver from his.

aAre you?a he asked. aA thief and a murderer, I mean?a aNo, your grace.a aNeither?a aNo, your grace.a aAnd yet your cousinas most costly jewels were found in the trunk that you were to have taken with you had you succeeded in leaving as planned.a aYes, your grace.a aAnd there was a death.a aYes, your grace.a aYou fled,a he said, awhen your cousin caught you in the act of committing the murdera"to London, with nothing but the clothes you were wearing. A blue silk evening gown and gray cloak. And in London you hid and survived in any way you could.a aYes, your grace.a aBut you did not steal there?a he said. aOr even beg?a aNo.a aYou sold only what was yours to sell.a aYes.a He came around the desk and crossed the room to stand a few feet in front of her.

aWill you tell me your story?a he asked. aWe might be here all day if I have to ask questions and have monosyllables for answer.a She continued to stare at him.

aWhy not?a he asked.

aI will not be believed,a she said. aWhen all this is told in a court of law, Lord Brocklehurst will tell the version he has told you, and he will be believed, as you believe him. He is a man and a baron. I am a woman and a governessa"and a whore. It is not worth my while to waste my breath.a aI have learned nothing from Brocklehurst,a he said. aAll I know, I have learned independently. I heard him call you Isabella. You yourself called your former home aHera".a I sent Houghton to Heron House to find out what he could about an Isabella.a aWhy?a The word was whispered.

He shrugged. aBecause your past has always been shrouded in mystery,a he said. aBecause I knew, unfortunately too late, that only extreme circumstances could have forced you into becoming what you became in London in my company. Because I saw the terror in your face when you first set eyes on Brocklehurst in my drawing room. Because both of you clearly lied about the degree of your acquaintance. Because I care.a aPerhaps it is as well,a she said. aYou have tried to make a liar and a thief and a murderer into your mistress.a aIs that what you believe of me, Fleur?a he asked.

aYes,a she said.

aEven though I sent you to bed rather than accompany you to your room that night for fear I would not be able to let you go?a he said. aEven though I have not come near you since, except to apologize?a He passed a hand over his brow and sighed. aCome and sit down.a aNo,a she said.

aFleur,a he said, awill you turn around and open the door?a She looked at him warily and did so.

aClose it again,a he said. aWhat did you see?a aThe footman who let me in here,a she said.

aDo you know him?a he asked.

aYes,a she said. aHe is Jeremy.a aDo you know him well? Do you like him?a aHe is always friendly and courteous,a she said.

aHe is to stand there,a he said, auntil you emerge or until he is summoned or until I send him away. If you were to scream, he would rush in here to your rescue. Come and sit down.a She preceded him straight-backed to two upright chairs close to the window and sat down on one. She folded her hands in her lap.

aThe man who died was your cousinas valet?a he said, taking the other chair. But he did not wait for her answer. aDid you have anything at all to do with his death?a aYes,a she said. aI killed him.a aBut you do not call yourself a murderer,a he said. aWhy not?a aHe was a great strong man,a she said. aHe was going to hold me while Matthew ravished me. I pushed him as he came up behind me. He must have been off-balance, as we were very close to the hearth. He fell and hit his head.a aAnd died?a aYes,a she said. aHe died instantly.a aHad your cousin expressed his intent?a he asked.

aHe said that before I left the house again no other man would ever want me,a she said. aI believe I was screaming and fighting. I saw him nod to Hobson.a aHis valet?a aYes. And then he came up behind me.a She caught sight of her hands, which were twisting in her lap. She stilled them.

aBrocklehurstas mother and sister had left for London?a he asked. aWhy did they leave you without a chaperone?a aThey do not care for me,a she said.

aYou were going to the rectory,a he said, ato stay with Miss Booth. Why did you leave it until the evening?a aYou are well-informed,a she said. aYou appear to know everything.a aHoughton is a good man,a he said. aBut it is the whys that still puzzle me.a aMatthew was expecting guests,a she said. aThey would have played cards and got drunk. I could have slipped away unnoticed. But they did not come. It was the day his mother and sister left. I suppose he planned a night alone with me.a aBut you tried to leave anyway?a he said.

aYes,a she said. aHe caught me. I think he knew and was waiting for me.a aYou did not steal the jewels?a he asked.

aNo,a she said. aI knew nothing of them until he mentioned them to me here.a aAnd so you fled,a he said, awith only the clothes you were wearing. No money?a aA little in my cloak pocket,a she said. aVery little.a aWhy did you not go to the Reverend Daniel Booth?a he asked.

She looked at him and bit her lip. aDaniel?a she said. aThey would have come for me there immediately. Besides, he would not have harbored a killer.a aNot even if he loved her?a he said.

She swallowed.

aHow long did it take you to get to London?a he asked.

aAbout a week, I think,a she said. aPerhaps longer.a He got to his feet and stood looking out through the window for several minutes, his back to her.

aI would guess that Brocklehurst is prepared to make a trade,a he said. aYour body in exchange for your life. Am I right?a aYes,a she said.

aWhat is your decision?a he asked. aHave you decided?a aIt is easy to be heroic in oneas imagination,a she said. aI am not so sure I will be a hero when it comes to the point. I told him two days ago that I would not marry him or be his mistress or have anything more to do with him, and yet when he gave me a few more days to make a final decision, I did not have the courage to repeat what I had just said.a aAnd yet,a he said, turning to look at her over his shoulder, ayou are capable of great courage, Fleur. I have seen proof of it, if you will remembera"in a certain inn room in London.a She felt herself flush.

aYou might have asked for my help, you know,a he said. aI would have given it. And even if I had said no, I could hardly have done worse to you than what I did. But you had the pride and couragea"and foolishnessa"to sell what was yours rather than beg.a She lowered her eyes from his.

aIt is not always like that, you know,a he said quietly. aWhen coupled with love, it can be a beautiful experience, Fleura"for the woman as well as the man. Donat be afraid of all men as I know you are afraid of me.a She realized she was biting on her lower lip again only when she tasted blood.

aNow,a he said, awhat are we going to do about your situation? It is not as hopeless as you seem to think. There are several defenses that can be made.a She laughed.

aWill you allow me to help you?a he asked.

aThere were no witnesses,a she said, aexcept Matthew and me. And my maid was the one who discovered the jewels in my trunk. There is no defense except the truth, your grace, and the truth will sound lamentably false when set against the word of Baron Brocklehurst.a He bent down suddenly and took both her hands in his. She had not realized how cold hers were until they were enveloped in the warmth of his.

aYou are not going to hang, Fleur,a he said, aor languish in prison. I promise you that. You have been living with that terror for weeks, havenat you? Why did you not come to me sooner? But of course, I am the last person you would come to, am I not? For today and perhaps tomorrow I want you to stay with Pamela during lesson times and with Mrs. Laycock at other times. If Brocklehurst tries to speak with you, it is my order as your employer that you keep away from him. Understood?a aYou cannot help me,a she said.

He stooped down on his haunches and looked up into her face. His hold on her hands tightened. aI can,a he said, aand I will, though I know that you do not trust me. Do you really believe that I brought you here to be my mistress?a aIt does not matter,a she said. She was looking at his hands holding hers. And feeling that she should pull away from them. And wanting to grip them as they gripped hers. And wanting to lean her head forward until her forehead rested on his shoulder. And wanting to trust him and forget about everything else.

She looked up and saw the dark, harsh, scarred face that had hovered over her in her nightmares for weeks and that had more latterly kissed her in her dreams and made her yearn for tenderness and love. She bit her lip again as his face swam before her vision.

aIt does matter,a he said. aFleur, it has never been my intention to make you my mistress. What has happened here between us has happened unexpectedly and against my wishes. I am a married man and cannot establish any relationship at all with you. And if I were not married, it would certainly not be as my mistress that I would want you.a She drew blood from her lip again as he raised first one hand and then the other to his lips, his own eyes never leaving hers. And he released one of her hands in order to brush away a tear that had spilled over onto her cheek.

aI will do this for you,a he said, aperhaps to atone in some small way for the harm I have done you. And then I will send you away, Fleur. If you must wait for your fortune, I will find you a good position in a home I never visit. I will set you free and never come after you. Perhaps in time you will believe me and trust me.a He released her hands and she covered her face with them, taking deep breaths to steady herself.

aI will have Jeremy escort you upstairs,a he said, straightening up. aRest in your room for this morning. I shall leave orders that you are not to be disturbeda"by anyone. I shall take Pamela.a She got to her feet. aThat will be unnecessary, your grace,a she said. aI have lessons planned.a aNevertheless,a he said, ayou will do as I say.a She straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and turned to the door. aIt will be unnecessary to send Jeremy with me,a she said. aI can find my own way, thank you.a He smiled fleetingly. aAs you wish,a he said.

And so she made her way upstairs alone and into her room. And she stood at the window staring out at the back lawn, deserted at that hour of the morning.

THE DUKE FULLY INTENDED to talk with Lord Brocklehurst without further delay, but a series of events conspired to frustrate his plans.

The doctor was with her grace, Jarvis told him when summoned to the library. His wife and her doctor must come first, then, his grace decided, dismissing the butler with the instruction to bring Dr. Hartley to him before he left.

A bad chill during the winter had left her grace with a weakness in the chest, the man gave as his opinion when he appeared in the library sometime later. Her health had always been delicate. It probably always would be.

aI would recommend a quieter life and less of the outdoors, your grace,a he said. aPerhaps a month or two at Bath partaking of the waters would effect a significant improvement in her graceas health.a aShe coughs constantly,a the duke said. aShe suffers from frequent fevers. She has lost weight. It is all the result of a severe chill that just did not go away?a The doctor shrugged expressively. aThere are certain ladies who have delicate constitutions, your grace,a he said. aUnfortunately, your wife is one of them.a His grace dismissed the man and stood looking out through the window for a while. He should, he supposed, have insisted on sending for a more learned physician from London. But Sybil had always been adamant in her refusal to hear of any such thing.

He drummed his fingers on the windowsill and turned away. She had refused to admit him the night before. This time he did not wait after tapping at the door of her bedchamber. He let himself in, as he had early the evening before, when he had caught his brother almost in the act of making love to her.

He looked at her graceas maid, who curtsied and withdrew to the dressing room.

aGood morning, Sybil,a he said. aAre you feeling any better?a She had turned her head aside on the pillow at his entrance. She did not answer him.

He walked a little closer. aThe fever still?a he asked, laying the backs of his fingers gently against one of her cheeks. aThe doctor suggested Bath and a course of the waters. Would you like me to take you there?a aI want nothing of you,a she said. aI am leaving with Thomas.a aShall I bring Pamela down for a few minutes?a he asked. aI am sure she is longing to tell you about Timothy Chamberlainas birthday party yesterday.a aI am too ill,a she said.

aAre you?a He smoothed back her silver-blond hair from her face. aI shall entertain our guests for today, then. You must lie quietly here and not worry. The doctor has given you some new medicine? Perhaps you will feel better by tomorrow.a She said nothing, and he crossed the room to the door. But he paused with his hand on the knob and looked broodingly at her for a long moment.

aWould you like me to send Thomas?a he asked.

She neither turned her head toward him nor answered. He let himself quietly out of the room.

The ladies were on their way into Wollaston with Sir Hector Chesterton and Lord Brocklehurst. His grace joined some of the gentlemen for billiards. Lord Mayberry, Mr. Treadwell, and Lord Thomas Kent had gone fishing.

After luncheon, when the duke suggested a ride and picnic at the ruins, most of the guests accepted with delight. Lord Brocklehurst, though, with Sir Hector, expressed his intention of remaining at the house, since he had been invited to call upon Sir Cecil Hayward later in the afternoon, whom they had met in Wollaston that morning.

Before leaving for the stables, his grace assigned the footman Jeremy to patrol the upper corridor outside the schoolroom and to escort Miss Hamilton and Lady Pamela wherever they might choose to go during the afternoon.

And he found himself half an hour later in the midst of an encounter that he had planned to postpone until the following day.

aIt seems that you and I are doomed to ride together, Adam, since everyone else is paired off,a Lord Thomas Kent said. aPerhaps it is as well. I shall probably be leaving tomorrow or the next day.a aAlone?a his grace asked.

His brother looked across at him and smiled. aI cannot think you were serious in the suggestion you made the other day,a he said.

aI would not have made it if I had thought for one moment that you would take it seriously,a the duke said, his eyes directed forward to where Sir Philip Shaw was flirting quite openly with Lady Underwood.

aThere,a Lord Thomas said. aYou see what I mean? Of course I could not take it seriously, Adam. How could I take Sybil away, knowing what scandal she would be facing? She has lived a sheltered life and can have no conception of what would be in store for her. And of course, women are incurable romantics. They are never prepared for cold reality.a aI think you left her with a large dose of cold reality the last time,a the duke said.

Lord Thomas shrugged. aBesides,a he said, ashe is unwell. I would not be at all surprised to find that she is consumptive.a His graceas lips tightened.

aAnd the child, of course, must be my primary concern,a Lord Thomas said. aHow could I take her from you and from this home, Adam? And how could I take Sybil and not the child? Sybilas heart would be broken.a The duke still said nothing.

aYes,a his brother said. aOf course I will leave alone. I really have no choice in the matter if I want to do the decent thing, do I?a His grace turned his head and looked at him coldly.

aIt is just rather a shame that we both fell in love with the same woman, that is all,a Lord Thomas said. aWe had a good relationship until Sybil entered the picture.a aPerhaps it is a shame that we both did not fall in love with her,a his grace said. aI could have lived with her loss, knowing she was happy with you, Thomas. I would have recovered because I loved her. What you have succeeded in doing is destroying all her happiness and all my love. Yes, we did have a good relationshipa"once.a Lord Thomas continued to smile.

aI left a message that you were to go to her when you returned from fishing this morning,a his grace said. aDid you go?a aShe is ill,a Lord Thomas said. aI am sure she needed to be quiet.a aYes,a the duke said. aIt seems hardly worth the effort of visiting her if she is not well enough to be bedded, I suppose.a His brother shrugged.

aI hope she finally realizes the truth about you,a his grace said, athough she will not hear it from my lips. Perhaps after all the pain she will finally be free of you and be able to make something meaningful of her life. Hindsight is easy. I can see now that I should have insisted that she listen at the start.a Lord Thomas shrugged once more and spurred his horse ahead to ride beside Miss Woodward and Sir Ambrose Marvell.

Just before dinner that evening a note was delivered to the duke to explain that Lord Brocklehurst and Sir Hector Chesterton were to extend their visit with Sir Cecil Hayward to include dinner and an evening of cards.

And so one rather unpleasant day was almost behind him, his grace thought, though the main order of business would have to be postponed until the following morning. He left a message with Lord Brocklehurstas valet that his grace would be pleased if his lordship would join him for an early-morning ride the next day.

IT WAS VERY LATE. She should have been in bed long before, Fleur knew, especially since she would have to be up even before daylight. But she did not believe she would sleep anyway. She counted her money once more and cursed herself again for buying those silk stockings when they had been a pure extravagance.

She was not sure she had enough. She was not at all sure. But if there was just enough for the ticket, she would not worry about food. She could go without food for a few days. She had done it before.

She could, of course, try to borrow a small sum from Ned Driscoll. But she would probably never see him again to repay the debt, and perhaps she would never have the money with which to do so.

Besides, Ned was already making a sacrifice for her. He had agreed to take her in the gig before dawn into Wollaston to catch the stage. He had been very unwilling to do so, and she was quite sure that if she had offered him moneya"if she had had money to offera"he would have refused quite adamantly.

But she had had only her persuasive powers and her knowledge that he had a soft spot for her.

Perhaps he would be dismissed for helping her. But she could not think of that. She could not take yet one more burden on her mind. There was no other way of getting to Wollaston on time beyond stealing a horse. She had never stolen anything.

She looked again at the small bundle of clothing that she had tied inside her old gray cloak and wondered if taking the clothes she had bought with his graceas money in London was theft. But the thought of putting on the old silk dress and gray cloak made her shudder.

She was leaving Willoughby Hall. That much she had decided in the course of the day. She had felt rather like a bear chained to a post all day longa"indeed, she had felt much the same for almost three months. She could take no more. If she stayed even one day longer she would lose a part of herself, of her innermost being, and when all was said and done, that was all that was left to her.

She was going to the only place she could go and maintain her pride and integrity. She was going homea"to Heron House. By doing so, of course, she was only going to certain destruction. But there were some things worse, she had discovered in the course of three months, than the prospect of facing charges that she could not defend herself against. There were some things worse than the fear of the ultimate punishment.

If she were hanged, she would lose her life. If she remained as she was, she would lose herself.

He could help her, he had said. He would help her. As Matthew had done? He would save her from imprisonment and death in exchange for certain favors? He had denied it vehemently and she had believed hima"almost.

But how could she believe him? How could he help her? And why would he wish to do so? To him she was only a whore whom he had pitieda"perhaps. Or a whore he hoped to entice into a more lasting relationship.

She wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust him. But how could she? She had been alone for so long. Even Daniel, who was gentle and godly, would not have been able to help her in her predicament. He would have had a crisis of conscience if she had asked for his help after admitting to him that she had killed Hobsona"even though it had been in self-defense.

She wanted so badly to believe him. She sat on the edge of her bed and closed her eyes. And she realized what had been happening to her over the past weeks. He had been turninga"so gradually that she had scarcely noticed the transitiona"from her nightmare into her dream.

Because she had come to know him as a man worthy of respect, liking, and perhaps even a? No. No.

Because he had planned it that way? Gradual seduction by patient steps, more skilled than Matthew?

She dropped her head forward until her chin rested on her chest. She did not know what to believe, but she did know that she must go away from him as much as she must go away for other reasons. He was a married man and perhaps an evil man.

She had an image of him standing in Mr. Chamberlainas garden, talking with Miss Chamberlain, Lady Pamela sitting up on his shoulder shrieking excitedly into his ear.

She had been his prisoner all day. Jeremy had been outside the library that morning and outside the schoolroom all afternoon. He had escorted her downstairs for dinner and back to her room after she had sat with Mrs. Laycock for a couple of hours.

Had she been his prisoner? Or had he been merely protecting her? Jeremy had told her that Matthew had come upstairs during the afternoon and had been very annoyed to be told that Miss Hamilton had been ordered by his grace to work with her pupil all afternoon without interruption.

But she had felt like a prisoner. Like a prey to both of them. Like a chained bear to their hounds.

She had to leave. She had to go home. Matthew would follow her there, of course, and they would play out the last scene of the drama that had begun almost three months before.

There was no mystery about the conclusion of that drama, of course. But she would no longer avoid it. She had to go back and somehow come to terms with what she had done and with what the consequences were to be.

Better to go back freely than to be taken back in fetters. And better to go back alone and independent than as Matthewas bride or mistress, her integrity forever gone.

She finally blew out the candle and lay down fully clothed on top of the covers of her bed. She stared up into the darkness.

IT WAS RAINING AGAIN THE FOLLOWING MORNING. That long warm, dry spell seemed to have deserted them for good, the Duke of Ridgeway thought as he stood at the library window looking out. It seemed that they must face a more typical British summer than the spring had been.

Perhaps it was just as well that it rained. He had been able to plan his talk with Lord Brocklehurst more carefully than he would have done if the sun had shone. He strode restlessly to the desk, gazed down at the unfinished letter lying on its surface, and put it away in a drawer. There was no point in trying to concentrate on writing.

She had not come down to practice in the music room that morning. Just on the day when more than ever he needed the soothing balm of music, she had not come.

And perhaps that was as well too. He was going to send her away soon. In fact, that was the main topic of the letter he was writing to the dowager Countess of Hamm, an old friend of his fatheras. Once he had had his talk with Brocklehurst, he was going to make other arrangements for hera"unless by some miracle her fortune could be released to her.

His left hand rubbed absently at an aching hip. He was going to have to learn to live without her music. And without the daily sight of her. He was going to have to find someone else who would be as good for Pamela as she was.

His hand opened and closed at his side. Perhaps Sybil would not object to his taking Pamela to London with him for a few weeks or months. He could not leave her again for another long spella"he had decided that at this last homecoming. But how would he be able to stand the loneliness and the constant aggravations of life at Willoughby?

Especially now that she had been there.

Several of the guests had expressed their intention the evening before of leaving within the next few days.

There was a tap at the door and Jeremy opened it to admit Lord Brocklehurst.