Something about the homey scene, about the tight circle of happy friends, stoked Phillip's temper as nothing had in a long time. He felt terribly betrayed by all of them. But by Jane especially. She was supposed to be lonely, miserable, pining away as he was. Not content and happy and comfortable in the new place she'd made for herself.

Spurring his startled horse, he trampled through the baskets and across the blankets, tumbling everything off to the side. Everyone stopped in their tracks at his approach.

"Wessington!"

"Milord!"

"Father!"

Jane could not have been more surprised if the Good Lord himself had appeared in the meadow. In the times she'd imagined what her next encounter with her husband would be like, it had been much different from this. She'd envisioned herself sitting in the parlor, the house and grounds looking superb, she and Emily beautifully turned out, the staff trained and ready to make a magnificent occasion of his visit so he could see and appreciate all the good things they'd accomplished in his absence.

Instead, Wessington looked mad as a hornet. Determined to defuse the situation in any way she could, she smiled up at him. "Hello, milord husband. What a pleasant surprise to have you join us. Di you just arrive?"

"Yes," he responded tersely through clenched teeth.

"So you've not been to the house. I'm so glad. I wanted to be present when you returned so that I could give you the grand tour." Taking in his dusty countenance, she added, "You must be thirsty and tired. Please join us, won't you? I believe you know everyone here."

She gestured toward the assembled group, seeming to be oblivious to the tension in the air. Could she really be so thick? "Get on my horse, Jane. We're leaving."

"But we've only just arrived ourselves. Please rest for a moment, and then I'll escort you to the house."

"Now, Jane!"

His tone of command caused her smile to disappear. He was terribly upset about something. Probably Richard's presence, and perhaps Graves's, *but that didnat mean he had to be so rude. "No, I'm not ready to leave."

'Wife, I will not argue the issue with you. Come here."

Jane placed her hands on her hips, her temper rising in direct accord to his own. "I absolutely will not."

"What di you say?"

"I said: I will not I've neither seen nor heard from you for nearly four months, then you ride in here and begin insulting me and my friends, and I tell you I won'ta"" She never got the chance to finish before she found herself sitting across Phillip's lap, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. Her hat flew off and fluttered silently to the ground.

He scanned the assembled players. "Graves and Meg, you're discharged."

"You are not," Jane called over her shoulder, kicking and struggling.

"Cease!" he shouted at Jane, so closely that her ears began ringing. His furious glare fell on Richard. "Get off my property. And if I ever see you within a hundred yards of my wife again, I'll shoot off your other leg."

With that, and no acknowledgment of Emily whatsoever, he whirled the horse around and took off at a jolting gallop. At the house, a stableboy came running, and Phillip tossed him the reins as he swung Jane, then himself, to the ground. "Inside. Now!"

"I'll not do anything when you're shouting like this. What is the matter with you?"

"What is the matter with me?" He shouted it again, much louder this time. "What is the matter with me?" He was not altogether certain why he was so angry, but220 something about seeing Jane sitting next to Farrow, laughing with John Graves made him snap. It was as though he were outside his body, watching a crazy man stand in the drive and shout at his wife.

"Yes!" her voice matched his in volume. "What is the matter with you?"

Without responding, he grabbed her around the waist and swung her over his shoulder. An astonished footman opened the door just as Phillip stormed through with Jane pounding on his back and shouting near-obscenities. The butler, on hearing the commotion, appeared down the hall. Wessington glared at the man, daring him to say anything. He wisely remained silent. "Make certain my wife and I are not disturbed."

Taking the stairs two at a time, he raced down the long halls, twisting and turning his way to the master suite at the end. Inside, he stomped to the large bed and deposited his load. Jane bounced several times but managed to keep from embarrassing herself by falling to the floor. As he hurried to the door and angrily turned the lock, she came to her knees.

"Have you gone completely mad?"

"What were you doing?"

"Sweet Jesu, I was having a picnic."

"What were you doing with those men?"

"They are my friends. They work for me."

"I'll not stand for it!"

"For what? Am I not to have any friends? What did you think? That I would retire to the country and lock myself in a closet? Was I never to come out?"

"That's not what I mean, and you know it."

"What do you mean? It's a beautiful summer day. We've all been working very harda"which you would have noticed if you'd arrived like a man possessed of his senses instead of like a crazed animal."

"You will not cavorta""

Jane laughed. "Cavort? Really, sir, listen to yourself."

"Don't you dare laugh at me."

"Or what? You'll strike me? Lock me in my room? Make me go without my supper?"

"Don't tempt me."

She started toward the door, carefully skirting him.

"Just where do you think you're going?"

"This is probably something you should know about me: I don't respond well to orders or direats, and I've never been much good at shouting matches. I'm leaving. We will speak later when you have calmed yourself."

"We will speak now."

"Speak of what? That I was having an innocent luncheon with my friends?"

"There is nothing innocent about Farrow. I won't have him near you."

Jane was thoroughly surprised by his tone. If she wasn't careful, she'd almost convince herself that he was jealous. "And what about Graves? Is he also unacceptable in your eyes?"

"I've spent the last month paying Bow Street runners to find him, and he's been playing house here all the while."

"He's not been 'playing house' as you call it. He's been working, and working hard for me."

"And I di not grant him leave to assist you."

' 'He understood that fact, sir. That is why he left your employ."

Phillip shouted at the ithocy of it all. "If he left my employ, pray tell me, what is he doing here?"

"He is working for me."

"No longer."

"Sir, I am perfectly capable of selecting my own staff. You will not discharge him. I will not allow it."

"Did I fall asleep and wake up in Bedlam?" Phillip shook his head in disbelief. "Di you not hear me, Jane? I have fired the man."

"I heard you, sir. And your action makes no sense, so I've no intention of listening to you."

"It's becoming clear to me that I should never have let you retire to the country alone. You definitely need a firmer hand."

Her husband's words terrified her. The last thing she wanted or needed was to have the Earl overseeing the day-to-day running of her life. She tried for calm. "Sir, he loves Meg, desperately and beyond reason. He wants to marry her."

"I heard the blabbering idiot."

"Then you realize that he couldn't let her come here alone."

"The man's a fool. To give up a position with me for the sake of a woman?"

"I think it's wonderful mat he could love another so deeply."

Jane's clear gaze said it all: Phillip refused to believe that others loved, simply because he could not love himself. Sounding petulant and spoiled, he said, "I needed him."

Jane couldn't help the smile that began to play at her lips. "Why, milord, I do believe we've hurt your feelings."

"What?" He gasped at the ludicrous suggestion.

"We've hurt your feelings, so that must mean you have some." She clasped her hands together. "Now we're getting somewhere." Walking to the chair by the window, she sat casually, adjusting her skirts around her legs. "Calm yourself, and tell me what we've done that's so dreadful."

Phillip sputtered, trying to hold on to his anger, but it was so difficult to maintain when she sat there smiling >o placidly. To avoid looking her in the eye, he began pacing back and forth. "What is Farrow doing here? I've left you alone here for a matter of months and that amake in the grass raises his ugly head."

"Master Farrow has always been here."

' 'Jane, do not lie to me. I sent him away years ago. What I want to know is: how di he manage to find his way back?"

"I have many faults, milord, but fabricating the truth is not one of them. I regret to be the one to inform you, but he didnat leave. He has always been here."

"Doing what?"

"Seeing to the place. While you were in London gambling and womanizing, he was here. Year after year, he kept a tight fist on a very slippery rein. If he hadn't stayed on, I've no idea what might have become of your family home."

"Who knew of this?"

"Everyone here. Master Thumberton. Most of the merchants and suppliers. People in the village. Some of the neighbors, I expect."

Phillip felt like a fool, with good reason. Everyone had certainly played him for one. How they must all have been laughing behind his back! The embarrassment of it only refueled his anger. "He'll not remain."

"Of course, he will."

Phillip stiffened and turned to glare at her.

"He loves this place. He loves the people and the land. And he is a remarkable agent. We need his guidance and assistance."

"I'll not have him about the estate."

"If his presence offends you, I'll see to it that he remains out of sight while you're here." Smiling wickedly, she said, "How long shall I tell him that will be,milord? A day or two? Or perhaps you'd thought to grace us with a week of your time?"

Phillip bristled at her mocking tone. In actuality, he'd planned on remaining a day or two, not much more than that. The first of the house parties to which he'd been invited began in another week, but he'd never let her realize how close she was to being right. "With all that is occurring here, perhaps I'll not leave."

From talking to Richard, she knew that the number of days Wessington had spent at the estate in the past decade could nearly be counted on one hand. She muttered under her breath, "That will be the day."

"What did you say?" he roared.

"I said: 'twould be nice to have you stay. And will you stop that infernal pacing?" When he continued, she rose from her chair and stepped in front of him. He was so consumed by anger that he didnat see her. She bounced off his chest, lost her balance and fell to the floor, landing ungraciously on her rear.

Only when the unceremonious thump registered in his ears di he notice what had happened. "What the devil . . . ? Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," she insisted, resisting the urge to rub her sore backside.

"Let me help you." He reached for her arm, but she yanked it away.

"Leave me be."

"Let me help you." She scooted across the floor, and in exasperation, he rested his hands on his hips. "Why the devil must everything be such a fight with you? I will assist you." Brooking no further argument, he reached for her hand and raised her to her feet. Once standing, she jerked her hand from his.

"Thank you," she managed, but she didnat sound grateful.

"I must admit, Jane, that I read several reports on your character before we were wed, and I failed to see any mention of this temper of yours."

"My temper?!" She whirled on him. "I'll have you know that I have a very pleasant nature. If you di not provoke me at every turna""

"I? I provoke you? So it's my fault, is it, that you turn into an unreasonable, shouting shrew every time I'm in your presence?"

" Do you seriously expect me to silently cope with your rude, surly attitudes, and your high-handed manner?" 'Give me one example of how I have treated you badly in the time I've known you!" The moment the words left his mouth, he knew the argument was lost. Of course, he'd treated her badly. After a lifetime of acting however he pleased, he barely noticed when he offended someone. Jane simply refused to suffer in silence when she was wronged.

Seeing his consternation as a chance to escape, she walked purposefully to the door. "I grow weary of this discussion, and I have many chores to accomplish. If you'll excuse mea""

"I don't excuse you."

"Then I'm afraid I must beg your pardon, because I am frightfully busy and must get back to work. My luncheon picnic was only meant to be a short break from my duties."

"We are not finished speaking."

"Perhaps you're not, but I am. I cannot abide this bickering."