The foolish woman.

Did she still trust him so little? Did she still believe that his intention was to make her his mistress? Did she not realize what superhuman control he had had to impose on himself that night in the library to send her to bed alone? When he had wanted her so badly and when he had known that she would have been easily seducible?

He could have had her that night. He could have had that memory.

He turned his attention to the rain and mist and clouds beyond the window. Before the carriage traveled even one mile farther, he must be clear in his mind about why he was making this journey. He was doing so in order to inform an innocent young woman that she could stop living with nightmares, that she was free. He was going in order to arrange some interim future for her until she came into her fortune and could live independently.

He was going because she was, or had been, his employee, his dependent, and he cared for all his servants.

He was not going because he loved her.

Although he did.

aWHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? We have been so very worried about you. But how wonderful to see you again.a Miriam Booth set her hands on her friendas shoulders and stood back from her.

Fleur laughed shakily and drew a handkerchief from a pocket to blow her nose. aI was frightened and foolish,a she said. aBut it feels good to be back.a She glanced across the room to the silent figure of the Reverend Daniel Booth.

aWhy did you not come to me, Isabella?a he asked.

aI was frightened,a she said. aI had killed Hobson.a aBut it was an accident, surely,a he said. aYou did not mean to kill him, did you?a aOf course she did not mean to kill him,a Miriam said, putting a protective arm about her taller friendas shoulders. aThat was always the most ridiculous idea I have ever heard. It was an accident. They were trying to stop you from coming to stay with me, werenat they, Isabella?a aYes,a Fleur said. She closed her eyes briefly and opened them to look at the Reverend Booth.

aBut by fleeing, you made yourself look guilty of murder,a he said. aI wish you had come to me.a aYou would have helped me?a she asked.

aIt is my job to help people in trouble,a he said gravely. aIn your case, Isabella, it would have been more than my job.a aOh,a she said. aI did not know. I thought you would have called me murderer and turned me over to Matthew.a aThe only sin you are guilty of, I believe, is uncontrolled passion,a the Reverend Booth said. aThat is not quite murder.a aUncontrolled passion!a Miriam said scornfully. aWhat was she supposed to do, Daniel? It was most improper of Lord Brocklehurst to expect Isabella to stay in the house alone with him. If he had tried to detain me under such circumstances, I would probably have taken an ax to both him and his valet.a aMiriam!a her brother said reproachfully.

aI did not steal any jewels,a Fleur said. aI did not even know I was accused of such a thing until Matthew told me so a couple of weeks ago. Do you believe me, Daniel?a She took a few steps toward him.

aOf course I believe you if you say so,a he said gently.

aWell, I believe you even without your saying so,a Miriam said hotly. aThe very idea! You have seen Lord Brocklehurst, Isabella? And escaped from him again?a aIt is a long story,a Fleur said. She covered her face loosely with her hands. aOh, how good it is to be with friends again and not have to hide the truth. I had to come back to see where it all happened again, to try to fill in some gaps of memory, to ask a few questions.a Miriam patted her reassuringly on the back. aWe will help you in any way we can,a she said. aWe have been longing to do just that. Havenat we, Daniel?a aIall tell you everything,a Fleur said. She looked up again at the Reverend Booth. aWill you do something for me first?a aWhat is it?a he asked.

aI have to go back into the library,a she said. aI have to see where it happened. I am afraid to go in alone.a Miriamas arm came about her shoulders again. But the Reverend Booth had moved. He was beside her, his arm extended for hers. She slipped her own gratefully through it and looked up into his unsmiling face.

aYou are to be greatly commended for your willingness to face your past,a he said. aLean on me, Isabella. I will help you.a The library was, of course, just the library, as it had always been. Nothing was different. There was no blood on the hearth, no signs of a struggle, no ghosts lingering behind the curtains or among the books. Just the library, a room of which she had always been fond.

It was there she had stood, she thought, abandoning the arms of both her friends, forgetting their very presence, a few feet in front of the fire, facing Matthew in anger and accusing him of being a gothic guardian who had done everything but lock her up in order to curtail her freedom.

And Matthew had been telling her that she would not demean herself by living with Miriam Booth and that she would not marry Daniel Booth by special license or elopement or any other means. She would not be leaving the house. She would be staying there, where she belonged.

Through her fury she had gradually seen and understood the look on his face. And she had understood what he meant when he said that no other man would ever want her by the time she next left the house.

Matthew had been troublesome for a few years and she had come thoroughly to dislike him for his unwanted attentions. But she had never been afraid of him. She had never been afraid for her virtue.

But the circumstances, she supposed, had inflamed him. Apart from the servants, he had her alone in the house. She had seen in his face that he had meant to have hera"that night and in that very room.

And she had understood that it was no momentary decision on his part. It was unlike him to have his valet with him in a downstairs room. She had wondered why Hobson was there, pretending to be busy with something at the far side of the room. But she had understood finally.

And fear had mingled with her fury. She had seen the look Matthew had directed at Hobson and had felt rather than heard the man come up behind her. She had known exactly what was about to happen to her.

She still could not recall the rest, even staring as she was at the place where it had all happened. Just someone screaming and flailing her arms. And Hobson lying on the floor, his head sliding from the corner of the hearth, his face ashen, his eyes staring upward. And Matthew leaning over him, kneeling beside him. And looking up at her.

aI hope you are satisfied, Isabella,a he had said in a queer, tight voice. aYou have murdered him.a And panicked flight. And the small measure of reason somewhere at the back of her mind that told her she could not go to Daniel or Miriam or to anyone she knewa"because she was a fugitive from the law, a murderer who would be hanged if caught.

aIt was not reason but the devil who counseled you so, Isabella,a Danielas quiet voice said from behind her, and she realized that she had spoken all her memories out loud.

aOh, Isabella,a Miriam said, her voice full of distress. aHow you have suffered. And what a villain Lord Brocklehurst is. I always thought him guilty only of being a tyrant. He is the one who deserves to hang. No, Daniel, I mean it. Every word of it. And then he put the jewels in Isabellaas trunk just in case the murder charge was not quite enough.a The Reverend Booth offered his arm and they returned to the salon. Fleur wished he were not quite so proper in his behavior. She needed badly to be held in his arms, to rest her head on his shoulder. But it was a pointless thought anyway. Even if he did not believe her guilty of murder and theft, there was that other thing now to set her forever apart from him.

There was no point in loving Daniel any longer.

She told them everything, omitting only the way she had met the Duke of Ridgeway and the real reason for Peter Houghtonas being at Miss Flemingas employment agency.

aSo I came home,a she said when she had come to the end of her story. aI suppose Matthew will be here tomorrow, or perhaps even later tonight. I suppose I will be in prison somewhere by this time tomorrow.a aNonsense,a Miriam said briskly. aBut you must come to the rectory for tonight, Isabella. You will be safer there.a Fleur shook her head. aNo,a she said. aI am staying here. But I will come tomorrow morning. I want to see Hobsonas grave. I must see it. Was his funeral well-attended, Daniel?a aIt was not held here,a he said. aHis body was sent away to the town where he was born.a Fleur frowned. aBut where?a she said. aOh, I must find out. I must see his grave. I donat think I will quite be able to accept the reality of it all until I do. I did not mean him harm, you know. I was terrified, and I suppose I wanted to hurt him so that I could get away. But I never wanted him dead.a She closed her eyes. aCan you find out where he was taken, Daniel?a aI donat know how,a he said. aI think it best if you stay away from there anyway, Isabella. If he has family members there and they see you and find out who you are, they will suffer greatly.a She looked down at the hands in her lap.

Miriam patted them briskly. aEnough for tonight,a she said. aYou must be exhausted, poor Isabella. And if you will not come to the rectory, then we will come back here as soon as possible in the morning to help you face Lord Brocklehurst when he arrives.a The Reverend Booth got to his feet. aThat sounds like the best plan,a he said, aif you are sure you will not come with us. Sleep well, and try not to worry. I will speak myself in court if I must, and give you a good character.a He lifted one of her hands to his lips. aGood night, Isabella.a aGood night, Daniel,a she said.

Miriam kissed her and hugged her.

For the first night in a long while, Fleur slept soundly, undisturbed by either dreams or nightmares.

THE DUKE OF RIDGEWAY put up at the village inn for the night. He could have journeyed on to Heron House, but it would have been close to midnight by the time he arrived there, and he decided to wait until the morning. She was in no great danger. He knew he was ahead of Lord Brocklehurst, even if that gentleman had decided to return to his home.

Besides, he did not think that Brocklehurst would try anything too foolish as far as Fleur Hamilton was concerned. Fleur Bradshaw. Isabella Fleur Bradshaw.

Fleur.

It was almost the middle of the next morning when his carriage took him along the winding, wooded driveway to the neat Palladian mansion that was Heron House. It was flanked by an orangery and greenhouses at the one side, stables at the other. There were colorful formal gardens set out before it. The sun was trying to break through the clouds as the carriage drew to a stop before the marble steps leading to the main doors.

aMiss Bradshaw, if you please,a he told the butler, handing him his hat and cane.

aMiss Bradshaw is in London with Lady Brocklehurst, Iam afraid, sir,a the butler said, inclining his head.

aMiss Isabella Bradshaw,a his grace said.

aAnd who may I say is calling?a the man asked.

aYou may not,a the duke said curtly. aShow me to the room where she is, please.a Something in the dukeas manner caused the man to turn and lead the way to his left along a tiled hallway to a room at the front of the house. She must have heard his approach, then, the duke thought. She must have seen his arrival.

He walked past the butler into a square room that was obviously a morning room. Sunlight was slanting through its long windows. The clouds must have parted finally, he thought irrelevantly.

She was standing in front of a chair from which she must have just risen, across the room from the door. She stood very straight, her chin high, her hands clasped loosely before her. She was wearing a pretty sprigged-muslin dress. Her hair was styled in soft curls and ringlets.

She looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her, his grace thought, even as his eyes took in the pallor of her face, the firm set of her jaw.

And then her expression changed and the tension almost visibly disappeared from her face and body.

aI thought you were Matthew,a she said. aI thought that was Matthewas carriage. I thought he had come.a He took one step toward her, thinking that she was about to faint. But instead she moaned and hurtled across the room and straight into the arms he reached out for her.

aOh, I thought you were Matthew,a she said as his arms closed about her softness and his nostrils were filled with the sweet fragrance of her hair. aI thought you were Matthew.a aNo,a he murmured against her ear. aItas just me, love. He is not going to hurt you anymore. No one is going to hurt you anymore.a She looked up at him, her eyes dazed, and her fingertips touched the scar along his cheek. aI thought I would never see you again,a she whispered.

He swallowed as he watched her eyes fill with tears.

aI am here,a he said. aCan you not feel my arms about you? I have you safe, love.a And he lowered his head and opened his mouth over hers.

And heard her moan again.

IT HAD BEEN A FRUSTRATING MORNING. FLEUR had woken up with renewed energy and hope after a good nightas sleep. The rain had stopped, although the sun was still covered with clouds. And she remembered the visit of the evening before and smiled at the knowledge that she still had friends.

But there must be so little time, she told herself as she went downstairs for an early breakfast. Matthew would surely be home at any time. He must guess that she would have returned to Heron House rather than to London. Or would he? Perhaps it would seem to him that she had fled again, hoping never to be found. London would be the obvious destination if that were the case. Perhaps he would pursue her there.

Unless he had the sense to call at the stagecoach office, of course, to find out where her ticket had taken her.

Annie was gone. That was an annoyance. There were all sorts of questions concerning the jewels that she would have liked to ask her former maid. But there was no time to brood on regrets.

aChapman,a she asked the butler at breakfast, awhere was Hobsonas body taken for burial?a She flushed at the necessity of speaking so openly on a topic that must have the servantsa quarters abuzz.

aI donat rightly know, Miss Isabella,a he said.

aThen will you send me someone who does,a she said.

aIam not sure that anyone knows,a he said.

Chapman had never been the most garrulous of souls.

aSomeone must have taken him there,a she said. aAnd perhaps someone went to attend the funeral. One of his friends? Lord Brocklehurst himself?a aHis lordship, yes, miss,a he said. aFlynn drove the carriage. He is with his lordship now.a aThe body would have gone separately,a she said. aBy wagon, I suppose. Who drove that?a aYardley, miss,a the butler said.

aThen send Yardley to me, if you please,a Fleur said.

aHe is gone, Miss Isabella,a he said. aInto Yorkshire, I believe it was. He took a new position there.a aI see,a she said. aI suppose if I were to ask to speak with the person who laid out Hobsonas body and placed it in the coffin, that person would also be gone.a aYardley did those things, miss,a he said, awith his lordship. His lordship was quite broken up over what had happened.a Fleur set her napkin on the table. She had lost her appetite.

In the stables it was the same story. No one knew where Hobson had been taken for burial. Yardley had taken him. And Flynn had taken his lordship the following day. No one remembered Hobsonas ever saying where he came from.

Finally she went back to the house and into the morning room, which had always been her favorite. Cousin Caroline had never liked it because the direct sunlight gave her the headache, she claimed. And Amelia was rarely up in the mornings. So it had always seemed like her own room, Fleur thought, wandering to the window and looking out at the neat squares of flowers and low clipped hedges of the formal gardens.

There seemed to be nothing she could find out. What was more frustrating, she did not know what there was to find out.

She knew almost the whole of it. She had killed Hobsona"accidentally. Matthew had had his body taken back to his own home for burial. Matthew had also planted Cousin Carolineas jewels in her trunk and made sure that someone else discovered them there. Even if she could talk with Annie, there was really nothing she could do to prove that she had not put them there herself.

Perhaps she was foolish after all not to have fled to London when she had had the chance. The servants had a way of looking at her as if they rather expected to glance down and find that she was swinging an ax from one hand. When Matthew came, it would all begin. Or rather, it would all come to an end. And despite Danielas and Miriamas protestations of the night before, she doubted that anyone or anything could save her. She was quite unable to prove her innocence.

But, no. She could not do any more running. She was where she had to be.

The quiet resignation of the thought did not last more than a moment. A carriage had appeared through the trees of the driveway in the distancea"a carriage approaching the house.

Her hands turned cold suddenly and she could feel her heart pounding painfully against her ribs and in her ears. Her face turned cold. There was a dull buzzing in her ears.

She turned from the window and sat down on the edge of a chair, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her back straight. She concentrated on not fainting.

And she concentrated on calming herself. She had five minutes at the longest. He must find her quite calm. He must not find her cringing and pleading.

And she must nota"even if he were still prepared to offer ita"accept any sort of proposal from him. She must not. Please, God, she prayed silently, give me the strength not to lose my integrity or myself. Please, God.

She did not get up again or look out of the window even when the sounds of horses and carriage wheels drew close. She straightened her shoulders, lifted her chin, and concentrated on breathing slowly and deeply.

She rose to her feet when the door opened and he stepped past Chapman and into the room.

It took her a few moments to realize that he was not Matthew. At first her eyes would not relay the message to her brain. And then she felt all the breath shudder out of her.

aI thought you were Matthew,a she said. aI thought that was Matthewas carriage. I thought he had come.a But he was not Matthew. He was everything that Matthew was not. He was safety and comfort and warmth. He was home. He was everything in the world that was hope and sunshine. He took a step toward her and opened his arms to her, and she was in those arms without ever knowing how the distance between them had closed.

aOh, I thought you were Matthew,a she said, feeling his arms close warmly about her, feeling the powerful muscles of his thighs against hers, the broad firmness of his chest against her breasts. Smelling that cologne fragrance that was peculiarly his. aI thought you were Matthew.a His breath was warm against her ear. aNo,a he said. aItas just me, love.a She touched his shoulders, felt strength and firmness there as he murmured comforting words. And she looked up into the dark, harsh face that she had thought never to see again, that she had been trying not to think of at all. She reached up a hand to touch his scar, so familiar to her eyes.

aI thought I would never see you again,a she said. The wonder of it was there to her sight, in her fingertips, in her body, in her nostrils. The wonder of it. Not yet in her brain. Only in her senses. And deeper than her senses. His face blurred before her eyes.

aI am here,a he said.

She watched his mouth as he spoke, listened to the deep tone of his voice, looked up into his dark eyes, and closed her own.

And she was suddenly safe and beyond safety. Enveloped in warmth and strength. She opened her mouth for more of it. And felt an ache of longing spiral down into her throat and into her breasts and stab down into her womb and between her thighs.

She kept her eyes closed and threw back her head as his mouth moved from hers and trailed warm kisses along her throat. He held back her shoulders with strong hands.

aYou are safe, my love,a he said against her ear. aNo one is ever going to hurt you again.a My love. My love. He was the Duke of Ridgeway. At Heron House. He had come after her all the way from Willoughby Hall.

She pushed away from him, turned her back on him, crossed the room to one of the windows. There was a silence.

aIam sorry.a His voice came from across the room. He had not come up behind her, as she had half-expected. aI did not mean for that to happen.a aWhat did you mean to happen?a she asked. aWhat are you doing here? I did not steal anything from your house except perhaps the clothes I bought in London with your money. You may have them if you wish.a aFleur,a he said quietly.

aMy name is Isabella,a she said. aIsabella Bradshaw. Only my parents ever called me the other. You are not my father.a aWhy did you run away?a he asked. aDid you not trust me?a aNo,a she said, turning to look at him. He was her customer of the Bull and Horn Inn, she told herself deliberately. She looked down to his hands, which she had always so feared. aWhy should I have trusted you? And I did not run away. I stopped running. I came home. This is where I was born, you know. In this very house. This is where I belong.a aYes,a he said. aI see you in your own proper milieu at last. You are waiting for your cousin to come home? You are waiting for the worst?a aThat is not your concern,a she said. aWhy did you come? I will not go back with you.a aNo,a he said. aI will not take you back, Fleur. You do not belong in my daughteras schoolroom and I will not take you into any of my homes ever again.a She turned away to a side table and began to rearrange the flowers in a bowl that stood there. She quelled the quite unreasonable twinge of hurt.

aOr try to establish you in any other home, if that is your fear,a he said. aI came to set you free, Fleur.a aI have never been in thrall to you,a she said. aFor all the money you have given me, I have rendered suitable services. The clothes you may take with you when you leave. I do not need to be set free. I have never been bound to you.a He took a step toward her, but there was another tap on the door, and she froze as it opened.

aThe Reverend and Miss Booth are here to speak with you, Miss Isabella,a the butler said, his eyes going briefly to the duke.

aShow them in, please,a she said, feeling a great surging of relief. And she hurried across the room to hug Miriam and to smile at Daniel.

The duke had strolled across to stand at the window she had earlier vacated.

aMiriam, Daniel,a she said, amay I present his grace, the Duke of Ridgeway? My friends Miriam Booth and the Reverend Daniel Booth, your grace.a The men both bowed. Miriam curtsied. They all exchanged curious glances.

aHis grace has come to assure himself that I arrived home safely,a Fleur said. aNow that he has done so, he is about to leave.a aHe is about to do no such thing,a his grace said, clasping his hands behind him. aThere was no grand reunion a moment ago. Do I take it that the three of you have met before, since Miss Bradshawas return?a aWe were here last evening,a the Reverend Booth said, stepping forward. aMiss Bradshaw is among those who care for her again, your grace. We will look after her. You need have no further concern about her.a The duke inclined his head. aYou will be pleased for her sake, then,a he said, ato know that Lord Brocklehurst will be making a public statement within the next few days to the effect that the death of his valet was accidental, with no question of murder at all, and that the whole alarm over the misplacement of certain jewels was a false alarm. There was, in fact, no theft at all.a Fleuras hands were in the tight clasp of her smiling friend.

aIf the statement is not made,a the duke continued, athough I believe there is no realistic chance that it will not be, then there will be a trial in which Miss Bradshaw will most certainly be acquitted and numerous serious grounds for bringing Lord Brocklehurst himself to trial will arise.a Miriamas arms were about Fleur, and she was laughing. aI knew it,a she said. aI knew the whole thing was quite ridiculous. Isabella, my dear, you are like a block of ice.a aI hope you are not raising Miss Bradshawas hopes without good cause, your grace,a the Reverend Booth said.

aI would not do anything so cruel,a the duke said. Fleur looked at him. aI had a long talk with Brocklehurst and got enough of the truth out of him that he will not wish to pursue the course he was taking, I believe. And there was a witness to our talk, whose presence he was unaware of through most of it.a aMatthew has admitted the truth?a Fleur said.

aTo all intents and purposes,a his grace said. aI donat believe you have anything more to fear from him, Fl a Miss Bradshaw.a She put her hands up over her face and listened to Miriamas bright laughter. She was aware of Daniel crossing the room to shake the duke by the hand.

aWhat a wonderful morning this is,a Miriam was saying. aI felt guilty about closing the school, but now I am very glad I did so.a Her voice seemed very far away.