Amelia, on the other hand, was wearing a dove-gray cotton dress that fit very much like a potato sack. She was pale and wan. She wore no jewelry, and her hair was in a single, unflattering braid.

No wonder Simon preferred someone else, she thought, inhaling.

"I was so delighted to hear that you are in town," Nadine said, smiling. "But I was surprised when I had learned that you had taken a position in St. Just's household!" She gazed closely at her, clearly wondering what was wrong.

Amelia glanced at Julianne, who gave her an innocent look. She realized that her sister had yet to say a thing. Finding composure, she took Nadine's hand and clasped it tightly. "I have known Grenville for years. He has been my neighbor ever since I can recall. We even had a flirtation once, long ago. When I went to his wife's funeral, it was obvious that his children were in desperate need. I could not turn my back on them."

Julianne made a sound.

Nadine glanced at her and asked, "And how are the children managing?" Her look was bright and interested, but she would never ask about the so-called flirtation and Amelia knew it.

"They are doing very well. In fact, I would love you to meet the boys if they return early enough from their riding lesson. And you must meet Lucille." And to her horror, she felt her smile falter. The pain kept bubbling up in her heart. Simon had betrayed her-again. Yet she was foolish enough to have trusted him a second time.

Julianne patted her shoulder. "Is Lucille all right? Has something happened?"

She swallowed. "Southland has finally contacted us. He will call this week. Whether he will take her or not, he hasn't said."

Julianne looked worriedly at her. "I know you have fallen in love with her, but it would be for the best if her father claimed her."

"I know," Amelia managed to say, and more anguish went through her. The house would not be the same without Lucille in it.

"I would love to see the infant," Nadine said. "Even though I doubt I will ever have children of my own, I so adore them."

Amelia glanced at her friend. They had become close during the winter. Nadine had been a constant visitor at Greystone Manor.

Once, she had been engaged to Bedford-they had been friends since childhood. Now she and Julianne were the best of friends, and Bedford was like a brother to her. She had only arrived in Britain last spring-almost two years ago, she had been caught up in a riot in Paris and left for dead. She did not speak very much of the time she had spent in France, during the revolution. But she was very political and loyal to the emigres fleeing her country. Amelia was certain she had been involved in helping her peers escape France before she had herself fled.

Nadine was open about the fact that the war had completely changed her life. She had lost her home, her mother, her friends. She had also lost all interest in marriage. She had no time for suitors.

"When you finally fall in love, you will change your mind," Julianne stated.

Nadine simply smiled, clearly not believing that she would ever fall in love. "Perhaps. But until then, I am going to enjoy being a near aunt to your daughter, and maybe to Lucille and Grenville's sons." She looked at Amelia. "Even though we are St. Just's neighbors, we have never met him. Is he in?" The D'Archand family had relocated to the St. Just parish in Cornwall.

She felt another pang. "He has left, perhaps for the day. I wouldn't know."

Julianne seized her hand. "What has he done?"

Amelia felt tears arise. "I am a fool!"

Nadine looked back and forth between them, then handed Amelia her handkerchief.

Amelia dried her eyes. "Nadine, it was more than a flirtation. When I was sixteen Simon pursued me and I fell madly in love. One day he left Cornwall-never to return."

"I am sorry," Nadine said sympathetically.

"I was truly over him. I had forgotten all about him. It was ten years ago. But when we met again at his wife's funeral, it was as if nothing had changed. His children weren't the only ones who needed me. He needed me-and I could not help myself. I had to meddle, I had to comfort him. I took this position, as awkward as it was." She wiped her eyes again.

Julianne put her arm around her. "Has he played you?" Anger laced her tone.

"Yes, he has," Amelia answered, and she broke away to sit down.

Both women sat with her. Julianne put her arm around her and Nadine took her hand. Her sister asked, fiercely, "What happened?"

"I caught him going out at midnight last night." Her heart hurt her again. "I was concerned-he was in an elaborate disguise, in fact. I was so afraid he was following in Bedford's footsteps. But when I confronted him an hour later, he confessed that he had been with his lover. Julianne, what am I going to do?"

Julianne had dropped her arm. "He went out in disguise?"

"Why would he disguise himself to meet a mistress?" Nadine asked.

Amelia looked back and forth between them. Both were wide-eyed and concerned.

"And he was only gone for an hour?" Julianne asked.

"All told, I would say an hour and fifteen minutes or so," Amelia said, beginning to comprehend what both of her friends were thinking. She added tersely, "He took a gun and he was hardly recognizable-he chalked his entire face."

Julianne stood up. "He claimed he was with a lover-or a woman of ill repute?"

Amelia also stood. "He said he has a lover, Julianne. He was firm-he does not care for and has never been with a prost.i.tute."

Julianne began shaking her head. "I might believe him if he had said he had gone to a prost.i.tute. No man would linger with that kind of woman. But a lover? Are you telling me he disguised himself, took a gun and ran off in the middle of the night to spend a few minutes with a lover?"

"Maybe he is a poor lover?" Nadine interjected, with some humor.

"He is not a poor lover," Amelia said, without thinking.

They stared at her.

Amelia felt herself blush.

"He did not go off to meet a lover," Julianne stated. "Not for a half an hour, not in disguise, not with a gun."

"Perhaps you should tell me what is really going on," Nadine added firmly.

WHEN JULIANNE AND NADINE left, Amelia returned to the salon, closing both doors behind her. Alone, she walked over to the sofa and collapsed upon it.

And once there, she could not move. She was emotionally exhausted.

How could she have believed, even for a moment, that Simon had gone to another woman?

She stretched out, shoes and all, and tears finally spilled. Of course Simon hadn't gone to a mistress last night. Julianne and Nadine were right. Even if he feared gossip, he would never get up such an elaborate disguise, and he would not have returned so swiftly. She recalled being in his arms. If he had been with another woman, she would have smelled some perfume or fragrance!

He was in danger after all.

She had reiterated all of her suspicions to both women; she had detailed all of his strange behavior. Nadine's reaction had been frightening. She had become paler and paler the longer Amelia spoke.

"He knew Danton," she had said tersely. "I feel certain. Danton was only recently executed, that is why he was dreaming of him."

Amelia had been so frightened.

She was frightened now.

He must be in terrible jeopardy, if he would tell her such a monstrous lie-if he would choose to hurt her instead of telling her the truth.

And she knew what she had to do. As he wasn't going to be honest with her, she was going to have to uncover the truth herself-even if it meant spying on him. If she were not so exhausted just then, she would begin immediately with a thorough search of his desk and library.

But Rome wasn't built in a day.

She had full run of his house. She would have many opportunities to go through his desk, his library and his private apartments. Amelia closed her eyes.

On the one hand, she was relieved. On the other, she was so frightened....

But now, she had two confidantes. Nadine had told her that she remained in touch with a great many "friends" in France. She was going to make some very clandestine inquiries, without using names, without putting Simon in any more danger than he was already in. Bedford had claimed that he did not know anything about Simon, but Julianne was going to press him.

And just as Amelia was drifting off, a knock sounded on the salon doors. She somehow managed to fight off the heavy stupor of her fatigue, sitting up and sighing. "Yes?"

Lloyd opened the door. "I am so sorry to interrupt, Miss Greystone, but you have another caller. Mr. Thomas Treyton is here to see you."

Fear arose.

"Miss Greystone?"

Tom Treyton had once been a friend of the family's-and a suitor of Julianne's. He had been to Greystone Manor a hundred times over the years. But he had been a radical, even before the revolution. And recently, he had not only sympathized with the Jacobins, he had been actively working for them on behalf of the French republic. Amelia knew this because, once upon a time, Julianne had been working with him to help the French defeat their country. Tom was so actively involved in the war that he had even been arrested by the British authorities last summer. For old time's sake, Julianne had begged Bedford to help arrange his release. She had feared he would hang as a traitor.

Amelia wanted to send him away now. She was tired and frightened-she wasn't certain she could manage this development. For Julianne was no longer friendly with Tom. Even though she had arranged his release, she had mentioned that he had become so dangerously political, she considered him an enemy.

But of course, that had been months ago.

Why was Tom calling? Had he changed his leanings? Was this a social call? Amelia knew she must invite him in and find out if he was still an old friend-or a new enemy.

"Send him in, please," she said.

Tom entered the room. Amelia came forward, smiling. "Lloyd, thank you. And you may close the door." She took Tom's hand in hers. "This is such a pleasant surprise!" But her heart was thundering as their gazes met.

Tom was Julianne's age, four years younger than her. He was of average height, boyishly attractive and blond. He wore a white wig, a camel-velvet coat and tan breeches. "h.e.l.lo, Amelia. I heard you had taken up here as Grenville's housekeeper."

She was taken aback because he seemed amused. Or was she imagining that? "h.e.l.lo, Tom. It has been ages. I am glad to see you. When I saw St. Just's children at the funeral, my heart went out to them. Shortly thereafter, Grenville availed himself upon me."

"I can imagine you as a housekeeper-I do not mean to be insulting, but you have always managed Greystone Manor in the most excellent way," he said lightly. "And of course, you have known Grenville for years."

She felt some alarm. Surely he did not know of that long-ago affair, did he? "He has been my neighbor since I was a small child. How are you, Tom? Are you practicing in London now?" Tom was a barrister.

"We do not get many calls from accused smugglers here in town," he laughed. "So I still practice at home. However, I have become very fond of town. There is so much to see and do. And you? Do you enjoy being in town? I always thought you more inclined to a life in the country."

She wondered how long the small chitchat would last. "I love the country-I miss home-but I also love town. Not that I have had a moment to go out, except to see Julianne, as I am so terribly busy with this house." The moment she spoke, she wished she hadn't.

He smiled. "And how is the countess?"

She stiffened. "She is fine. I hope you do not hold grudges, Tom. Julianne is happily wed."

"Yes, she loves his lordship, and they have a child." He shrugged. "I was very fond of her once. I am happy for her."

Amelia hoped he was telling the truth.

"How is your mother? Have you seen your brothers? I take it they are well?"

"Momma certainly likes town. Garrett takes her for a drive about the best neighborhoods or through the park every day." She hesitated. "Both of my brothers are well." She decided not to elaborate.

"And Grenville? I imagine he is grieving for the loss of his wife. You are brave, Amelia, to have taken on such a situation."

"This is a difficult time," she said, aware that they were moving on to dangerous terrain.

"He must appreciate your efforts on his behalf and that of his family," Tom mused. "Do you bake the children those corn m.u.f.fins you used to make?"

"There is a cook, and I have not given him the recipe yet." She was becoming uneasy.

"Then you should give it to him. His boys will adore you for it."

Suddenly she could not take the casual conversation for another moment. "Why have you called? Is there something I can do for you?"

"We are neighbors, in a way. I wanted to make certain you were getting on. They do say Grenville is rather difficult. Don't they?"

"I wouldn't know," she said tersely.

"Well, Amelia, everyone knows he was estranged from his wife. I have even heard that he walks in his sleep. Have you caught him out and about at odd hours-acting strangely?" He laughed, as if amused and merely gossiping.

Her heart lurched with alarm. She was certain he was questioning her seriously now. "Of course not." She was suddenly angry. "Are you still radically inclined, Tom?"

His eyes widened, but his smile never wavered. "I am not unprincipled, Amelia. I hardly change my spots, as did Julianne."

No attack could have been as obvious. "Julianne is very principled. She believes in liberty for all mankind-not just for the poor and the oppressed."

"Since when have you become political?"

She ignored that. "I take it you support France, even though she is at war with our country?"

"I take it you have become a royalist-like your sister?" He wasn't smiling now. "I can imagine the discussions you and Grenville have.... If there are discussions?"

She gasped. "What does that mean?"

"I was there ten years ago, Amelia, in case you have forgotten? Julianne and I were friends when you were being courted by Grenville."

She was shaken. She had forgotten! "I do not know why you are bringing such a subject up. It is very ungentlemanly of you."

"Ah, so where there is smoke, there is fire."

"What does that mean?" she cried.