Clicking her seat belt as Sebastian closed the door, Dixie wondered why she'd agreed to come.

He seemed to have no doubts at all. "I feel lucky tonight. I think we'll win." He flashed white teeth at her.

Win or score? She'd play Whist and that was all.

The same people she met at the Whytes' filled the village hall. Hardly surprising. This village made a small town seem like a metropolis, but there was a certain security in placing names on familiar faces-Emma with Ian, Sally, who looked very different with her hair cut short all over, Mark Flynn, the bank manager, and Emily Reade.

"Emily!" Sebastian almost hissed the name as she toddled towards them, a tin tray of sherry gla.s.ses in her hands.

She beamed at Sebastian. Dixie merited a polite nod. "Settled in your new place, are you? Have a sherry. We've sweet or dry.

What do you prefer?"

Dixie chose dry. It suited her mood. She took two sips from the thick-rimmed gla.s.s and then almost gulped it all. Christopher was here! She scanned the hall but didn't see him.

"Looking for someone?" Sebastian smiled. He was at her elbow, close enough so she could smell his aftershave. She didn't care for his aftershave. "Anyone I know?"

Something told her he wouldn't appreciate the truth. "Just admiring the building." She looked up at the high ceiling and age- darkened rafters. "It looks like an old barn."

"It is." Emily was back. "An old t.i.the barn. They planned on demolis.h.i.+ng it between the wars but the parish bought it."

By the look of the two of them, another war wasn't far off. Dixie remembered Emily's hurried exit to meet Sebastian after the Whytes. What was going on and how had she ended up in the middle? If Emily imagined some sort of duel for Sebastian, she could put her weapons away. Dixie wasn't interested.

"We're at the same table. Isn't that nice? I can talk to Dixie about her house. I've always wanted to see inside it. Your aunts were reclusive. They never invited anyone over."

"Drop by sometime." They reached the table and Sebastian held both their chairs. Dixie sat down, and again the certainty hit her-Christopher was very close. Was she going lightheaded from skipping lunch? Was sherry stronger than she thought?

"Got a partner, Emily? Or are we playing three-handed?" Emily giggled. "We'll have four. Emma said there were several odd people."

"How unkind of her. She may call me eccentric, but I take exception at 'odd'."

At the familiar voice Sebastian hissed, Emily popped her eyes, and Dixie felt a warm glow inside. "h.e.l.lo, Christopher. You never said you were coming."

"A last minute decision." He settled himself in the empty chair. "Well, Caughleigh, you look ready to cut."

Thank heavens they weren't playing Bridge. She'd never be able to concentrate in this company. Testosterone sparked between Sebastian and Christopher, and Emily smiled in a way that suggested Lucrezia Borgia. Come to think of it, the big opal on her finger suited the part.

Sebastian cut spades as trumps and dealt in silence. Dixie was fanning out her hand as Christopher asked, "Play to win and take no prisoners, right, Emily?"

He and Emily won the first three hands.

Dixie played carefully and remembered discards but her play couldn't match Christopher's. Even when she held four trumps in the last hand, she only managed to take two tricks.

"You're some card player," she said as Christopher trumped her last ace.

"I've been playing for years." He smiled.

"Make a living by it, do you?" Sebastian asked.

Christopher looked over his cards. He did look like a card shark in an old movie and every muscle showed he resented the insinuation. "I have, on occasion. We must play for high stakes one day, you and I." They both looked ready to stake each other.

"Are we playing Whist or War?" Dixie asked. It was like sitting between a pair of eighth graders.

"Peace, Dixie." The way Christopher smiled suggested they shared secrets. "I once fought over cards. Never again." With a smooth movement he played a king.

Silence fell over the table as Christopher's uncanny knack of winning tricks had Dixie pondering the truth behind Sebastian's insinuations. Emily made a couple of comments about play but silence seemed more cheerful than her twittering.

Dixie won the next trick by breaking trumps and decided to do her bit to keep the tension going. "Sebastian," she said, "thanks for giving Christopher my organizer. I was glad to get it back."

Sebastian stared, Emily gulped, and Christopher gave an innocent smile that wouldn't fool an infant. What was going on? Had Christopher lied, just as she'd suspected?

"I told Dixie you gave it to me, knowing I'd be seeing her." Christopher smirked. It was the only word for it. Sebastian gave him a look that could curdle milk. "You never did mention where you found it. Did you, Caughleigh?"

Sebastian hesitated, eying his cards before discarding a useless three. "James picked it up. I'm so glad it got back to you, Dixie."

Sleazy James? How did he come into this?

"That's right, your sister's dear son. He's not here tonight, I noticed. Left the neighborhood has he?" Christopher seemed determined to niggle.

"He's in town for the weekend. If it's any of your business."

"None, really," Christopher replied and took the trick. He also won the hand. He stood up. "Let the winner get dessert."

"It isn't over yet." Fury seemed to seethe through Sebastian's teeth.

"You think not?" He pushed in the chair. The table wobbled.

Dixie stood up. "I'll help you carry them."

"Lovely. I'll stay and keep Sebastian company," Emily said.

The desserts were at the far end of the hall. Christopher seemed in no hurry. In fact, he walked as if worn out.

"You like to win, I noticed, almost as much as Sebastian hates to lose. It's only a game."

"Card games can be more dangerous than duels."

"Fight duels often, do you?"

He shook his head, his dark hair gleaming in the lamplight. "Not for a couple of hundred years." She chuckled and looked up at him. His eye seemed hard and cold. Then he smiled and her toes curled inside her leather pumps. "You're the only woman in years who's been willing to look me straight in the face. It doesn't bother you?"

"In a way. But not like that. I wish for your sake you had two."

"I don't miss it, except when it comes to looking at you."

"What happened?" Should she have asked? She didn't know him that well.

"I lost it in a fight. Years ago when I was young and foolish."

"Not the two-hundred-year-old duel?"

He shook his head and grinned, "Long before then."

"Trifle or cheesecake?" Emma asked, serving spoon in hand.

"You're not getting any?" Dixie asked as he placed three servings on the tray.

"I need to be careful what I eat-allergies, you know."

"Christopher never eats. That's how he stays so thin," Emma said.

Dixie felt inclined to believe her. Christopher's narrow wrists barely filled the cuffs of his linen s.h.i.+rt.

"Jealous, my dear Emma?" he asked, with a twinkle in his dark eye.

Emma grinned. "Watch it!"

Dixie filled the thick white coffee cups from the urn on a side table. "Enjoying your evening with Caughleigh?" Christopher asked, his voice too quiet to be conversational. "I bet he doesn't kiss like I do."At that, her hand shook and she sloshed coffee into the saucer. "I wouldn't know," she replied, trying to sound very English and proper but knowing she missed it by a mile.

"I knew it! You shouldn't be wasting your time with him."

"Right now I seem to be wasting it with you."

"Nothing between us will ever be a waste."

Hair p.r.i.c.kled around the nape of her neck. She felt heat rising between them. "Coffee's ready. Let's get back."

"Worried?" his voice teased. "You don't want to give Emily too much s.p.a.ce. She might take advantage of poor old Sebby."

"I doubt anyone's ever taken advantage of Sebastian." The hum around them half-swallowed his chuckle but Dixie heard it all the same.

Christopher and Emily won the last hand. Sebastian appeared not to have enjoyed the evening very much. Emily almost bubbled with excitement as she claimed the centerpiece as her prize. The pink begonias matched her face.

"How was this as an evening of British culture?" Christopher asked Dixie.

"Come now, Marlowe," Sebastian said. "Don't put her on the spot."

Sebastian wouldn't answer for her. "Interesting. Like something out of an Agatha Christie. You know, cards in the village hall and someone found dead on the vicarage lawn in the morning."

"Now you're getting fanciful," Sebastian said, his mouth tightening.

"You're right," Christopher said, smiling at Dixie. "But for that scenario you need a vast twenties vicarage, not the three bedroom bungalow Reverend James lives in, plus a parlor maid to find the corpse before breakfast."

"Stop this, both of you!" Emily fussed. "There aren't murders in Bringham. Dixie was just joking. Americans do that all the time, I'm told."

Dixie wanted to ask who'd told her, but bit it back. All she needed was to get home. Alone. And she fancied Christopher planned to complicate that.

He leaned back in his chair, causing the thin metal legs to sc.r.a.pe the floor. "We had one recent death at the vicarage."

Sebastian hissed, and Emily paled before she flushed and snapped, "Oh, please! Not here!"

"What?" asked Dixie, looking from Sebastian's tight mouth to Emily's red face to Christopher's smirk.

"You hadn't heard?" Christopher asked.

"Heard what?" What did they all know that he wanted to tell?

"I thought Caughleigh would have mentioned it." Christopher smiled at Sebastian. "Your great-aunt, old Miss Faith, died on the front steps of the vicarage. The milkman found her. She'd had a stroke."

Something spun inside. No, Sebastian hadn't told her. Christopher knew that and he'd chosen this moment to tell. Why? She was heartily sick of being used to get at Sebastian."She was an eccentric old lady, given to wandering. Probably felt herself taken ill and went there for help. I think your timing's disgraceful, Marlowe. You've upset Dixie."

"I'm fine, Sebastian." He was halfway around the table and Dixie didn't want his arm supporting her. Not at any price.

She offered to help Emma tidy up, glad of the chance to talk with her neighbor, and in the sneaky hope that Emily would convince Sebastian to take her home. She didn't. Emily and Sebastian stood in a corner talking to Sally, while Christopher stacked folding chairs with Ian. By the time they loaded the last dish in Emma's Range Rover, all Dixie wanted was her own bed. Alone.

"Ready?" Sebastian asked as Ian and Emma drove off.

"Yes, I enjoyed the evening, but I'll be glad to get home." She hoped the hint was heavy enough.

Emily stood beside Sebastian and Sally, looking from one to the other as if wondering what would happen next. "I need a ride.

Could you drop me off, Sebby?"

Dixie grabbed the chance. "Of course. He can drop me off on the way." She half-hoped Christopher would offer to take her, but he just stood there enjoying the performance.

They were all halfway to their cars when Sally swore, "Blast! I've got a puncture. It would be tonight when Robert's away."

"I'll give you a hand," Christopher offered. "No point in everyone hanging about here." Dixie's last sight of Christopher was his broad shoulders as he walked towards Sally's Land Rover.

Christopher offered a ride home, but Sally insisted on a wheel change. "I need the car tomorrow and who'll change it on a Sunday?" she wailed.

So he agreed. He felt sure Dixie was safe tonight. He'd sensed Caughleigh's irritation but no spite. Besides, he could change the wheel in five minutes and stop by Orchard House on his way home. Sally helped, handing wheel brace and jack as he needed them, but her inane chatter got under his skin. If he heard one more, "I don't know how this happened, Robert promised me they were new tires," he'd be tempted to gag her with a wheel brace.

He hoisted the spare on the axle and felt the weakness in his muscles. He should be resting, not changing spare wheels for the local gentry. "All done," he said as he tapped the hubcap in place and reached for a rag to wipe his hands.

"At last," Sally whispered.

Christopher turned, something in her tone alerting him, too late. The moonlight showed something pale in her hand. A wrench she was packing away? He knew it wasn't when he felt the blade against his skin. Slowed by his exertions of the last week, his reactions failed him. Searing pain ripped between his ribs and tore through him like fire. His hands clutched at the air.

"Got you!" she half-yelled her excitement. Like an echo, the words swirled around the deepening fog in his brain. He tried to speak, but darkness followed the pain. He stumbled against the car, slipped, and the gravel came up to meet him.

"I wanted to see the house. She'd have asked us in if you hadn't insisted on leaving."

Emily was beginning to get on his nerves. "She had no intention of doing so," Sebastian said.

"Where are we going? Your office, Sebby?"

The woman was a fool. That's all she thought of. "No, my dear, it's time for you to do your duty by the coven."Her voice rose. "No more doctored food. It didn't work. Ida's didn't work either. It's too risky."