THEHIGHWAYMAN

CatherineReynolds

CHAPTERONEMiss Jane Lockwoodand Miss AgathaWedmore,Jane’s formergoverness and nowcompanion, werereturninginthecarriagefromatriptothevillage.There they had made aday of it, calling uponthe vicar and his wife,taking a nuncheon atthe Crown Inn, and

visiting some of thepoorer members of theparish.As they bowled along,they discussed thelatest news and gossipimparted to them byMrs. Micklethorp, thevicar’s wife. Or, rather,Miss Wedmorediscussed it. Janelistened with only halfan ear while allowingher mind to wander to

otherthings.After all, very littlewhich was new or ofinterest ever happenedin Dunby or thesurroundingneighbourhood. Ofcourse, there was thehighwayman who hadbeen victimizing theregion for the lastfortnight, but as heseemedtooperateclosertoLeedsthantoDunby,

Jane saw no reason forconcern.And,naturally,there had been theusual animadversionsupon the depravedcharacter of ViscountSt.Clair,butthosewereneithernewnornews.She wished that sheweredrivingthecurricleinsteadofbeingshutupin the carriage on sucha splendid day.Ordinarily she would

have been, but thatmorningbeforetheyleft,it had looked like rain,andratherthanarguingwith Agatha, she hadagreed to take theenclosedcarriage.She stronglysuspected, however,that John Coachmanhadspenttheentiredayat the local inn,imbibing far too freely.She wondered briefly

whether she should tellhimtoslowdownjustatrifle, but then decidedagainst it. Inebriated ornot, John knew thisroad as he knew theback of his hand, andthey were not likely tomeetanyothertravelersonit.Besides,shequiteenjoyed a little recklessspeed;shelikedtothinkthat it was one of herfewvices.

“You are not listeningto me, Jane,” saidAgatha in an accusingvoice.With an apologeticsmile, Jane said,“Forgiveme,Agatha.I’mafraid I was wool-gathering. What wereyousaying?”“Iwas referring to thisschemeofyourstotakeinAliceBrantwhileherpapa goes gallivanting

offtopartsunknown.”“Come now, Agatha.You are being unfair.The squire is merelygoing to the Continentfor a few weeks, andsince he will beaccompanied by severalof his cronies, you canscarcely blame him fornot wishing to besaddled with Alice.Besides, she must beprepared for her come-

outnextspring.”“Bethatasitmay,Idonot see why he couldnot have arranged toleave her with a femalerelative.”Jane’s eyes sparkledwith amusement. “Well,as to that, I believe theonly one with whom heis on speaking terms isLady Bassett, his eldersister. Unfortunately,Alice does not care for

her aunt, and threwsuch a tantrum at thepossibility of being sentto her that poor SirAlfredwasleftpositivelyquaking.”“Now that just provesmy point,” declaredAgatha. “There is nohandling the girl! Youmay mark my wordswhenIsaythatyouaremaking a sad mistake,for Ihave yet tomeet a

more hoydenish femalethanthatone.”“Oh,IbelieveAlicehasoutgrown the ways of ahoyden, though I willown that she is a triflewild.”“Humph,” Agathasnorted. “She is wild toafault,youmean.Iverymuch fear that youwilllivetoregretthis.”Jane sighed. Actually,she was quite looking

forward to having thegirl in her household,sinceshewascertaintoliven things up a bit.But rather than admitthattoAgatha,whohadher ownnotions of howJanemightlivenupherlife,shesaid,“PerhapsIshall, but as I havealready agreed to takeherundermywing andteach her how to go oninSociety,Icannotnow

cry off. Besides, as youknow, the squire wasone of Papa’s fewfriends, andhas alwaysbeenunfailingly kind tome. I didnot feel that Icouldrefusehim.”When Agatha onlyscowled and shook herhead, Jane added, “Inanyevent,withwhatheis willing to pay me, Ishall be able to makesome much needed

repairs atMeadowbrook. And youmust agree,” shecontinued somewhatruefully, “that I amrather well suited forteaching properbehaviourtothegirl.”Agatha sniffed. Shecould not argue withthat. She would wagerthat there was not amore proper female inallofEnglandthanMiss

Jane Lockwood. Howoften she had wishedthat itwerenotso,thatJane were not quitesuch a pattern card ofpropriety. Things mighthave turned out sodifferently if only... Butthatwaslikewishingforthemoon.Well aware of hercompanion’s thoughts,Janeturnedherheadtoglance out the window.

They were passingEthridge Hall and,unconsciously, sheleaned forward to get abetter viewof it.As shedid each time she sawit, shewonderedwhy itwas that the placefascinated her so, andshe felt a surge ofsadnessthatithadbeensoneglected.It was built in theElizabethan style, and

its mellow red brickglowed warmly in theafternoon sun. In thatlight and from thisdistance, the signs ofneglect were not soevident, if one couldcontrive to ignore theovergrown gardens andparkland surroundingit.And,asalways,Janefound herself imaginingelegant lords and ladiesin old-fashioned dress

glidingthroughthehallsand themany rooms ofthe house. If anyonehadeveraccusedherofhaving a romanticstreak in her nature,she would have deniedit vehemently. Yet thethought of all thedramas, loves andintrigues which musthave occurred withinthose walls never failedtostirher.

Ethridge Hall soonpassed from sight,however, and Jane satback, still regrettingsuch waste. The househad sat empty for twoyears, ever since thedeath of old ThomasCaldwell, but evenbefore that, the estatehadbeguntogotoruin.The old man wasrumoured to have beenas rich as Croesus, but

a pinchpenny who hadbegrudged everyfarthing he was forcedtospend.Idly, she wonderedabout Caldwell’s heirand why he had nevercome even to look theplaceover.Not that shewishedforsuchashetotakeupresidencethere.Viscount St. Clair wassaid to be the mostshocking rake, with a

reputationsoblackthatno one would speak ofwhat he had actuallydone to deserve it. Butthe least be could havedonewassell theestateto someone who wouldhave appreciated it andrestored it to its formerglory.

****A short distanceahead, the rider of alarge black stallion

spoke ratherapologetically to thehorseashebroughthimto a halt. “I hate to tellyou this, Achilles, but Ido not recognize thislane at all. In fact, myfriend, I fear we arelost.”The sleek animaltossedhis headup anddown once, as thoughhe were agreeing withhismaster, then gave a

loud blow through hisnostrils which soundedvery much like a snortofdisgust.The man had beenlooking speculativelyupanddownwhathecouldsee of the narrowcountry lane,butatthenoise, he turned hisattention to the horsewith an amusedchuckle. “Yes, I know,”he said. “Ridiculous, is

it not, to be forced toadmittobeinglostwhenI have always pridedmyself on my sense ofdirection. But there itis.” Then he frownedandmuttered,“Anditisdamnably inconvenient,too.”Horse and rider stoodjustbesidethebarrierofa low hedge whichbordered the lane. Totheir left was a small

stand of trees, andbeyond that the dustylanecurvedoutofsight.As yet, no one wasaware of the stranger’spresence in this area ofYorkshire,andhewouldhavepreferredtokeepitthat way. But now heurged his mounttowardsasmallopeninghe had spied in thehedge, saying, “Well,since there is little

danger that anyone inthis backwater willrecognize me, I thinkthere is nothing for itbuttofindsomeonewhocanpointusintherightdirection.” He stoppedand listened for amoment, then added,“And Ibelieveweare inluck.”The distinctive soundof a carriageapproaching could be

heard, and the riderguided Achilles throughthe hedge and out intothe middle of the lane.There he drew hismount to a halt andwaitedforthevehicletoappearroundthebend.A few moments later,when a team of horsescameintoview,hestoodin the stirrups andraised an arm to hailthe approaching

carriage.****

As they swept aroundthe curve in the lane,Jane broke off herthoughtsaboutEthridgeHall and grabbed theleatherstrapinordertokeepherbalance.Itwasagoodthingshedid,forotherwise she wouldhave landed in anundignified heap uponthe floor along with

Agatha as the carriagewaspulledtoanabrupthalt. At the same time,she heard JohnCoachman shoutsomething whichsounded very like awarning,andthencamethe deafening explosionofagunshot.Agatha emitted oneshrill scream and thenbegan to moan, andJane took amoment to

ascertain that hercompanion wasuninjured. Only whenshehadsatisfiedherselfon that point did shestraighten her bonnet,smooth her gloves, andopen the door,preparatory to leavingthe carriage. John hadnot come to help heralight,butshemanagedto jump to the groundas gracefully as

possible. Then shestepped forward to findout what had causedthecommotion.She stopped uponseeing that a man laymotionless in the road.A magnificent blackstallion stood besidehim, nudging him withitsnose.John Coachman stillsat on the box with asmoking pistol in his

hand. Upon seeing her,he said, with an oddblend of horror andpride, “‘Tis thehighwayman, miss. I’vekilthim.”“Nonsense!” said Jane,striding towards theunfortunate victim ofher inebriatedcoachman.“Highwaymen do nothold up carriages inbroaddaylight!”

Climbing down tofollow her, Johninsisted, “But he wasstandin’ there, blockin’the road, miss, on thatgreat black beast, justlike they say thehighwaymanrides.”At that, Jane knew amoment of doubt, butshe quickly brushed itaside, saying, “I shouldthink that ahighwayman would be

wearing a mask andbrandishing a pistol.What is more, I doubtthat he would bewearing the costume ofagentlemandressed forriding.”Inoneswiftglance,shehad taken in thehapless stranger’sappearance and more.He wore buff-colouredbreeches,polishedblackridingbootsandaclaret

coat,exquisitelycutandtailoredto fithisbroad-shouldered form. Inaddition,shenotedthathe was still breathing,but he was losing agreatdealofblood fromawoundratherhighupon the inner aspect ofhis left lower limb. Thefact that he wasuncommonly handsomewas of no importancewhatever.

At least thatwaswhatshe told herself, but inall honesty, she foundthat she was bothattracted and repelledby him. Attractedbecausehewas,withoutdoubt, the best-lookingmanshehadeverseen,and repelled becauseshe could not help butsuspectthatheactuallywas the highwayman.Oddly enough,however,

the very thing whichrepelled her also gaveher a secret thrill. Orperhaps it wasn’t soodd, she thought. Mostlikelythehintofdangeradded spice to thesituation,which in turnservedtomakethemanmoreattractive.She quickly banishedthese thoughts, anddropped to her kneesbeside him. She untied

andremovedhiscravat,foldeditintoapad,andafter the barest ofpauses, gingerly placedit over the wound andappliedpressure. Itwasextremelyembarrassing,not to mention highlyimproper,tobetouchingamansointimately,butshe told herselfbracingly that thesaving of a life mustcertainly take

precedence overpropriety.Despite thatconclusion, she couldfeel the heat of a blushon her face, and shekept her head loweredasshegaveinstructionsto the coachman.Although she had notneeded it today, shealways carried herbasket of remedies andmedical supplies with

her on her trips to thevillage. For years shehad been fascinated bythe study of herbs andtheir medicinal uses,and the people of theareadependeduponherto treat their illnessesandinjuries.John, much sobered,hurriedly fetched therequested article fromthecarriageforher.Selecting a roll of lint

from the basket, shesecured the foldedcravat to the wound,then sat back on herheels to decide whatbesttodo.Dunbycouldnotboastof having a doctor, thenearest one being inLeeds, but even hadthere been one in thevillage, she would nothave considered takingtheinjuredmantohim.

She quite agreed withtheDuke ofWellington,who was of the opinionthatalldoctorswere, toa greater or lesserdegree,quacks.Besides,the stranger neededimmediate attention,and the village wasmuch too far away. Hemightverywellbleed todeath before theyarrived.Clearlytheonlything tobedonewas to

take him home toMeadowbrook.By this time, Agathahad joined them.Looking up at her andJohn Coachman, Janesaid, “Help me to lifthim into the carriage,please.Icannotcareforhim here. We must gethim toMeadowbrookasquicklyaspossible.”“You do not mean toinstall him there!”

exclaimedAgatha.“I do,” Jane answered.“It is the closest place,and if we do not stopthis bleeding soon, hemay yet die. Now, willyouorwillyounothelpme?”She was well aware ofthe impropriety ofadmitting a strangegentleman into herspinsterhousehold,andfully expected further

objections from hercompanion.Surprisingly, however,Agatha, after staringintently at the strangerforamoment,onlysaid,“Idaresayyouareright.He does look a triflepale,doeshenot?”The unconscious manalso proved to beexceedinglytallandwellbuilt. But between thethree of them, they

managedtocarryhimtothe carriage and placehimononeoftheseats.Ofcoursehedidnotfit,so it was necessary tolayhimonhissidewithhis knees bent, apositionwhichcouldnothave been good for hiswound,but it couldnotbehelped.Thetwowomensettledthemselves on theoppositeseatwhileJohn

tethered the blackstallion to the back ofthe carriage. Soon theywere on their way oncemore.After again staring fora few minutes at theman lying across fromthem, Agatha said, “Iwonderwhohecanbe.”“I haven’t the leastnotion,” replied Jane.“He couldbea guest atoneofthehousesinthe

area,butifthatisso,itis odd that Mrs.Micklethorp did notmentionit.”“Mmm,” murmuredAgatha.“Thereisalwaysthe possibility that heis, indeed, thehighwayman. They dosaythatheridesalargeblack horse, and thereisnothing to say that ahighwayman may notdressasagentleman.”

That thought did notsit well with Jane, butshe only said, “Well, inanyevent,hecandousno harm in his presentcondition.”Before they couldspeculate further, theyarrivedatMeadowbrookandJanewasconcernedwith the problem ofgetting her patienttransferred from thecarriage to a guest

bedchamber. Luckilythey now had help intheformofJackson,thegroom,andMelrose,thebutler,andsothechorewent more easily thistime.Andwhilethemencarried their burdenupstairs, Jane collectedher basket of medicalsupplies and went togathersomeotheritemsshe thought she mightneed.

It was not until a fewminuteslater,whenshestood outside thechamber where thestranger was being putto bed, that sheexperienced her firstmisgivings. Commonsense warred withpropriety.Whilemoving themanfrom the lane to thecarriageearlier,shehadascertained that there

was no exit wound onthe back of his limb.Therefore, the bulletwas still in him andmust be removed.Although shehadneverbeforebeen calleduponto perform such anoperation, she did notdoubtforamomentthatshe was the mostqualifiedpersontodoit.Of course, a ladyshould never enter a

gentleman’sbedchamber, especiallywhen the gentleman inquestion is a stranger.And to even considerlooking upon his barelimb, let alone touchingit, was unthinkable.Still,therewasnodoubtin Jane’s mind as towhatshemustdo.Just then, JacksonandMelrosecameoutofthe chamber and

Melrose said, “We havemade the gentleman ascomfortable as possible,miss. However, I amafraid the wound hasbegunbleedingagain.”Jackson asked, “Wasyouwishin’metoridetoLeeds for the doctor,miss?”“No,” said Janedistractedly, “there isnot time. The bullet isstill in the man’s, ah,

wound and must beremovedwithoutdelay.Ishallneedbothofyoutohelpme,ofcourse.”Melrose was seldomthrown off stride, butnow a look of shockcrossed his face. “MissJane,” he exclaimed,“youcannotbethinkingofdoingthisyourself!”“Certainly I am,” shereplied.“Thereisnoonebetter suited for it than

I.”“Now there you arewrong, miss,” hecontradictedherwithalltheassurance of anoldfamily retainer. “It willbe much more suitablefor Jackson to do thejob.”Jackson’s eyes fairlystarted from his head,andhebackedupastepas he said, “Oh, no! Icouldn’t!”

“Do not be such aclodpoll,” recommendedthe butler. “You havetreated all manner ofailments in horses.There is no reason whyyoucannotdothis.”Appealing to hismistress, Jackson said,“Beggin’ your pardon,miss,butamanain’tnohorse. Besides, I ain’tnever dug no bulletouten a horse, never

mindnoman.”Melrose opened hismouth to argue further,butanexasperatedJaneforestalled him byraising a hand andsaying,“Enough!Wearewastingtime.”“But,miss—”“If you continue toargue, the man willmost certainlydie, fromlossofbloodifnot frominfection. Do you wish

to have his death onyourconscience?”Both men lookedsheepish but offered nofurther objections, andJane said, “Very good.Now, Melrose, pleasefindMissWedmore andbring her hereimmediately. Jackson,you come with me. Ivery much fear that itmaytakebothofyoutorestrain our guest if he

should regain hissenses.”With that, she turnedandsteppedthroughthedoorway, only to stopabruptly just over thethreshold.Nothinginallhereightand twenty years hadeverpreparedMissJaneLockwood for the sightwhichnowmethereyes.Onthebedsprawledthestranger, his head and

torso elevated on oneelbow and turnedtowards the door. Thesheet had slipped downand now covered onlythe lower portion of hisbody, with one hairylimb—the wounded one—exposed. She notedthat the other handgripped the appendagejust above the woundbeforeherstunnedgazemovedupwardspastan

equally hairy and quitemuscular chest to theface.Despite the shock offindingherselfstaringata nearly naked male, itwas the face whichcame close to undoingJane. She had neverseen anything sothreatening in her life.His teethwere bared ina ferocious grimace, hisbrowsloweredinafierce

scowl, and glitteringblackeyesglaredathermenacingly.Jane’s first thought,quicklysuppressed,wasGoodness, what amagnificent-lookingspecimen! Her secondwas that she couldwellbelieve that thisdangerous-looking manmight, indeed, be ahighwayman. Her third

was.Goodheavens,howhaveI,ofallpeople,evermanaged to get myselfinto such an alarmingand indecoroussituation?No matter what theman’s station in life,however, she feltsomewhat responsiblefor his presentcondition, since it washer coachman—her

inebriated coachman—whohadcaused it.Andeven a highwayman didnotdeserve tobe left totheinevitablefatewhichawaitedhimifhisinjuryremained untreated.Therefore, gatheringhercourageandassumingacalmness she did notfeel, she forced herselfto move toward herpatient. A patient wholooked to be extremely

angry and who, shefeared, was in nomoodtobecooperative.

CHAPTERTWOGrippinghisthighinavain attempt to controlthe excruciating painthere,thewoundedmanthought, Lord! It hurtslike the very devil!Perspiration popped outon his brow and hefought against thewaves of faintnesswhich threatened to

overcomehim. Tomakemattersworse,hisheadhurt almost as much,too,andhesupposedhemust have struck itwhen he fell from hishorse.Past experience hadtaughthimthatthebestway to take one’s mindoff physical discomfortwas to concentrate onsomething else. To thatend, he stared at the

femalewhohadenteredtheroomontheheelsofthose two Friday-facedminions who haddeprived him of hisclothing,thenlefthimtobleedtodeath.As a means ofdistraction, she leftmuchtobedesired,andhe needed only oneglance to take hermeasure.Tobeginwith,shelookedtobefarpast

herprime.Shewasalsosomething of a LongMeg, being rather tallerthantheaveragefemale.Her hair, partiallycovered by a lacy whitecap,was a soft, thoughunremarkable shade ofbrown. And her gown,while obviously of thefinest material and wellmade,wasnotdesignedtoshowoffherfeminineattributes to any

advantage.If she even had anyfeminine attributes toshow off, he thoughtsourly. He had nomeans of knowingwhether or not shewasmarried, but everythingaboutherfairlyshoutedApe Leader. To do herjustice,however,shedidpossess a rather finepairofclear,greyeyes.Had he not been in

suchpain,andsoangryatfindinghimselfhere—wherever here was—and, worst of all, insuch a damnablyhelpless state,hemightalmost have laughed atthe expression of shockshe’d worn upon firstentering the room. Thathad soon given way toher present look ofpinched disapproval. It

took no imaginationwhatever to know thatthis female had neverbefore been presentedwith the sight of anunclothedmale.He watched her warilyas she approached thebed and, in order toretainsomecontroloverhis situation, heforestalled anything shemight say bydemanding, “Where the

devilamI?”Asmall,strainedsmilehad begun to form onher lips, but at hiswordsshepressedthemfirmly together oncemore before replying, inasurprisinglyciviltone,“You are atMeadowbrook, sir. Myhome.AndIam...”He did not hear theremainder of herspeech, for his senses

begantodimasanotherwave of faintnesswashed over him. Hesqueezed his eyes shutasbe fought it.When itfinallypassed,hespokethrough gritted teeth.“AndhowisitthatIfindmyself an unwillingguesthere,ma’am?”A frown of concerncreased her brow, buthewas far toooccupiedwith more immediate

matterstonoteit.“I shall be happy toanswer your questions,sir,” she said. “But at alatertime,ifyouplease.Fornow,sufficeittosaythatyouhavebeenshot;thatthebullet isstill inthe wound; and that itmust be removed andthe bleeding stopped ifyouaretosurvive. Iamsorrytostatethematterso bluntly, but that is

thetruthinanutshell.”“Bloody hell!” hemuttered. Then,glancingbehindherandseeing only one of theminions, he said, “Inthat case, I hope youhavesentforadoctor.”From the expressionswhich crossed her face,he was certain that hecouldsee intohermindwith a great deal ofaccuracy. Quite

obviously, she wasmagnanimouslysuppressinghernaturalinstinct to object to hislanguage. He feltcertain, too, that shewasattemptingtomakeallowances for a manwhowas inagreatdealof pain as well asweakened from loss ofblood.Itwasapitythathe was not able, justnow, to appreciate fully

thehumourofitall.She said, injecting atone of ruefulamusement into hervoice,“Well,astothat,Iam afraid that there isnodoctoravailable.”His eyes had closedagain, but now theyshot open in anotherfuriousglare.Before he could treathertomoreofwhatsheundoubtedly considered

hisoffensiveutterances,she rushed into speechagain. “However, sir,youarefortunateinthatI have some knowledgeof the healing arts. Infact, at the risk ofsounding conceited, Iam considered to besomething of an expertin thatarea,and in theabsenceofaphysician,Ipropose to remove thebulletmyself.”

“Thehellyouwill!”Hermouthcompressedonce more, but shemerely raised hereyebrows and said,“Very well, sir. If not I,then Jackson, mygroom, will do it.” Thenshe said with an air ofexaggerated innocence,“He has treated allmanner of ailments inhorses.”At that, he narrowed

his eyes at her andgritted his teeth again.Ominously, he said, “Iamno horse,madam. Iinsist that you send foradoctor. If Imusthavesomeonediggingintomewith a knife, I want areal sawbones, not adamnedhorse-quack.”“My dear sir, thenearest...ah,sawbones...is in Leedsand it would be hours

beforehecouldarrive. Ifear you must choosebetween me andJackson.”Atthat,hiseyesclosedagain.He dropped backonto the bed, thengasped at the paincaused by the suddenmovement and clutchedathislegoncemore.What in damnationhad he ever done todeservethis?Hehadthe

dubious choice ofentrusting his life andlimb to a ham-handedhorse doctor or to thisfemale who consideredherself to be an expertin the “healing arts.”Likely her expertiseconsisted of nothingmore than waving avinaigrette or a handfulof burnt feathers underthe noses of othervapourishfemales.

But, loath though hewastoadmitit,heknewher to be right in onerespect. Somethingmustbedone,anddonesoon. Already he felt asweak as a sick kitten,and he was holding onto consciousness by amere thread. And so,there really was nochoiceatall,wasthere?At least she didn’t looktobeham-handed.

With wearyresignation, he growled,“Very well. Get on withit then—you, not thatfugitive fromastable. Itappears that you havemeatyourmercy.”Until that moment,Jane had kept her gazeresolutely fixed on theman’sface,butnowhereyes shifted to hiswound, then skitteredaway again. She

suddenly found herselflacking in confidenceandmorereluctantthanevertodowhatmustbedone.Sheknewthatshemust,butthethoughtoftouching that bare,hairy, masculine limbwith her own hands—withouteventhebenefitof her gloves and hisbreeches between them—wasalmostmorethanher mind could cope

with.Itwouldhavebeendifficult enough if hehad remainedunconscious, but withhimawake...Abruptly she turnedaway towards thewashbasin, and wasgrateful to note thatAgathaandMelrosehadentered the room andwere hovering justinside the doorwaybeside Jackson. Their

presence served tobolsterher courageandadd somemuchneededstiffness to herbackbone.She required hercompanion present tolend at least ameasureof propriety to thesituation, and as shebegan scrubbing herhands,shesaid,“Iknowthiswillnotbepleasantfor you, Agatha, but I

thankyouforcoming.”Agatha merely noddedandsaid,“Weareoutoflaudanum, so I havesent Elsie to procuresome. Is there anythingmoreIcandotohelp?”“No,” Jane replied.“Just the fact of yourbeing here is a greathelp to me. As for thelaudanum, we shallneeditlater,butIdoubtitwouldtakeeffectsoon

enough to be of use tous now.” Then, turningher attention to themen,shesaid,“Melrose,I shall need you andJackson to stand readyto restrain the patient,should it becomenecessary.”Looking very like menon their way to thegallows,thetwocrossedtheroom,Melrosegoingto the head of the bed

andJacksontothefoot.Jane, after pulling thelow bedside table closerand arranging herbasketuponit,eyedthetwo chairs in thechamber. But, judgingthat either of themwouldbetoolowforherpurposes, she satgingerly upon the edgeof the bed beside thestranger’sexposedknee.From her basket she

lifted a container ofScotch whisky,uncorked it, and washolding it over thewound when a newthought suddenlyoccurred to her. Therewas a very real chancethat thismanmightyetdie,frominfectionifnotfrom blood loss, andthey did not even knowhis name. Her mindshied away from the

thoughtofanunmarkedgrave.Determined, beforebeginning, to discoverthatmuch at least, sheasked, “What is yourname,sir?”He was lying perfectlystill with his eyesclosed, the only sign oftension being hisclenched jaw and hishands gripping thelinens on either side of

him. Relaxing his jaw,hesaid,“Sebast...”As he spoke, thecontainer accidentallytipped, and a smallstreamofwhiskypouredonto the wound. Hebolted upright with aroarofanguish,andhishand shot out to gripherwristlikeavise.Hisblack eyes glaring intohers once more, heshouted, “What the

bloody hell are youdoingtome,woman?”“Really, Mr. Sebast,”Jane saiddisapprovingly, “I havetried very hard to takeinto account both yourprobable station in lifeandyourcondition.ButI must tell you that Ifindyourlanguagetobeoffensiveintheextreme.“AstowhatIamdoing,I am attempting to

cleanse your woundwith whisky as apreventivetoinfection.”At that, his eyesshiftedtothecontainer,and releasing herwrist,hejerkedthebottlefromher hand, saying, “Ihaveabetteruseforit.”Too surprised to reactfor a moment, Janewatched as he drank,long and deep. Butthen, before he could

finish itoffentirely,shereached for it again,fully expecting astruggle for itspossession.However,hegaveitupwillingly enough, thenlay back, closed hiseyes,andafterresuminghis grip on the sheets,said,“Iamreadynow.”Melrose grasped theman’s shoulders andJackson his ankles,

while Jane took up thethin-bladed knife shehad cleansed earlier.Holdingthebladepoisedover the wound, shehesitantly placed herother hand on thenaked flesh below thewound. But if herpatient was ready, shenowdiscoveredthatshewas not. She squeezedher eyes shut, almostovercome by the very

alienanddisturbingfeelof his hair-roughenedskin against her palm,as well as by thoughtsof the grisly task beforeher.There was no tellinghow long she mighthave remained like that—seemingly unable toeither retreat or goforward—had the mannot goaded her bysaying, “Confound it,

woman! Do you enjoytorturing me with thissuspense? Get on withit!”That effectively endedher procrastination asnothing else could havedone. Opening her eyesand gritting her teeth,she lowered the knifeandinsertedthetipintothewound.Though not a soundcame from his throat,

theman’sbodystiffenedand arched, strainingagainstthehandswhichheld him, and then,blessedly,hewent limp.Fortunately for bothhimself and Jane, hehadlostconsciousness.By the time she hadprobed for the bullet,removedit,cleansedthewound, stopped thebleeding, and applied adressing,shewasnearly

as pale as her patient.Shealso foundthatshewas trembling withfatigue brought on bythe strain of the ordeal.Evenworse,shehadthemost horrifying feelingthat she might burstinto tears at anymoment—somethingwhich would have beenentirelyoutofcharacterforher.And so she accepted

with alacrity Agatha’soffer to sit with theirpatient, and made herway to her bedchamberto recover her poise inprivacy.It was not until afterthedinnerhourthatshereturned to thesickroom, where shefound Mr. Sebast to bestill insensible, asAgatha had reportedwhenshecamedownto

the dining-room. Janesupposed itwas just aswell. He neededsomeonewithhimsincehe was not yet out ofdanger,butoncehewasawake, it would not beproper for her to bealonewithhim.However,shehopedhewould not remainunconscious for toolong. He would soonneed sustenance in the

form of broth and gruelin order to regain hisstrength. Then all sheneed worry about wasthe dreaded possibilitythathemightdevelopafever, which wouldindicate thathiswoundhad turned putrid. Buta hand placed on hiscoolbrowrelievedherofthat fear, for the timebeingatleast.Sittingdowninachair

beside the bed, shemade herself ascomfortable as shecould,thengazedattheman lying there. Hisheadwasturnedtowardher on the pillow, andthe candle on thebedside table shone fullon his face, making itpossibleforhertostudyhimclosely.His hair was a dark,chestnut brown, and

disheveled as it nowwas, gave evidence of anatural curl. His browsuggested intelligence;his nose was mainlystraightwithjustahintof the aquiline; hismouthwaswell formed;and his chin and jawseemed to indicatestrength.Shehadnotedearlier that his eyeswerenot actuallyblack,but sodarkabrownas

to appear to be thatcolour.Nowshenoticedthatattheoutercomersof his closed eyes therewere tiny, barelyperceptible lines, whichmade her think that hewas no stranger tolaughter.A most attractive manindeed, thought Jane.Yet his was not theclassic handsomeness

one might associatewith a gentleman. Evenin repose she couldeasily imagine itbelonging to an ancientwarrior, or a pirate ora...highwayman?Oh, shewas being toononsensicalbyhalf.Andevenifheshouldbethehighwayman, as shehad told Agatha, theyhad little to fear fromhim in his present

condition. She verymuch doubted that hewould end by robbingthem,anyway.Surelyhewouldnotrepaythemsoshabbily for saving hislife. Of course, his lifewould not have neededsaving were it not forthem....Misliking the directionof her thoughts, shesought to turn theminto other paths. She

mentallylistedthemanyduties awaiting her onthemorrow. Therewerethe linens to be sorted,and of course many ofthem would be in needofmending.Theyalwayswere. Thank heavenCook was able tofunction with only amodicumofsupervision.Unfortunately,thesamecould not be said ofElsie, the young and

ratherineptmaid.In addition she mustmeet with Phillips, herestate agent. Theirmeetings never failed tothrowherintoastateofgloom. Then, too, shemust find time to visither herb garden andreplenish her medicinalsupplies, but sheconsidered that apleasure rather than achore.

Janesuddenlyyawned,shifted to a morecomfortable position inher chair, and returnedto her ruminations.There was also thenecessity of preparingachamberforyoungAliceBrant, who would becoming to stay atMeadowbrook in a fewdays. Jane was lookingforward to that eventwith slightly less

pleasure than before.She was beginning towonder if Agatha mightnot be correct inthinking that Jane wasbitingoffmorethanshecouldchew.In small doses, Alicecould be extremelylikeable, and evenamusing at times. But,Jane now admitted toherself,tosaythatAlicewasaspoiledminxwas

akindness;thegirlwasindeed wild to a fault,the product of a dotingfatherwhocouldseldombringhimselftosaynaytoher.Nowthewidowedsquire had suddenlyawakened to the factthat Alice was ofmarriageable age, andevenhewasnotsoblindthat he could not see afew glaring deficienciesinherconduct.

“I’ll not deny that myyoung puss is ahandful,” he had saidjovially. “But you willknowjusthowtohandleher.”Well, somehow shewould manage to bringthe girl up to snuff, ifonly because shemust.She deplored thenecessity of acceptingpayment for the task,but, unfortunately, she

was in no position torefuse it.Her ownpapahad left her with amodest competencewhich was quitesufficient for everydayneeds. But there neverseemed to be enoughmoney for the repairsrequired to keepMeadowbrook up as itshouldbekept.Jane’s heavy-liddedeyes returned to the

bed, and a vaguethought drifted throughher mind. She hopedthat her patient wouldbe able to travel soon.There was a certainincongruityinhertryingto teach a young girlproper behaviour whileahighwaymanoccupiedoneofherbedchambers.The bedside candlehad guttered out, andthe chamber was moon

drenched when Janestartled to wakefulness.For a moment, shecouldnotthinkhowshehad come to fall asleepin a chair, nor did sheknow what had causedher to awaken soabruptly. But thenmemory returned in arush as she heard amuttering and rustlingsound coming from thebed. She rose swiftly,

certainthathergreatestfear had come to pass.Her patient wasbecoming delirious withfever.Jane reached out ahand to feel his brow,butbefore she coulddoso, he gave a greatshout and beganthrashing about quiteviolently. Withoutconsideration, she didtheonlythingshecould

think of in order toprevent his reopeningthe wound. She threwherself across his chestinan effort toholdhimstill.

****Jane’s patient cameawakeratherslowly,butwith awareness camethe consciousness ofthree things in rapidsuccession. He’d beenreliving Waterloo in a

nightmare, someonehad thrust a hot pokerthrough his thigh, andthere was anunaccountableheaviness on his chest.For the ending of thenightmare, he couldonly be thankful, butthe latter twocircumstances were nottobetolerated.His left hand and armseemed to be trapped

somehow at his side,but the right one wasfree and he moved ittowardhischest,onlytoencounter a handful ofhair. Furtherexploration told himthat this was attachedtoahead,andheraisedhis own head from thepillowtosquintdownatthe apparition lying onhis chest. Hemuttered,“Whatthedevil?”

The moon was full,providingsufficientlightfor him to identify hisassailant. It was theLongMeg, and she hadturned her head andwasstaringbackathim,rather as though shewere shocked at findingherself in such aposition and did notknow how she came tobethere.Incongruously,and despite the

discomfortinhisleg,hewas amused. He alsodecided that he hadbeen wrong, after all.With her lying acrosshischestinthatway,hediscovered that the ladydid, indeed, possess atleast two feminineattributes.Since she neithermoved nor spoke, hedrawled, “I have knownfemales to throw

themselves atgentlemen, but do youknow, this is the firsttime I have experiencedthat phenomenon quitesoliterally.”“Your fever!” shegasped. “You werebecoming delirious. Iwasafraidyouwoulddomoreinjurytoyourself.”“Kind of you to be soconcerned, sweeting,but if I seemed

delirious,itwasbecauseof a nightmare, notfever.”“Oh!”shebreathed.“Yes,” he continued.“And much as I mightenjoy this delightfulintimacy at anothertime, I fear that justnowmy thighhurts toodamned much to do itjustice.”Jane came to hersenses at the man’s

words, and with therealization that she stilllaysprawledacrosshimin a most unseemlymanner, horror andmortification sweptthrough her. Jerkingherself up and awayfromhim,sheknewthatnothingcouldcauseherto remain in hispresence a momentlonger. No, not even ifhe were bleeding to

death!Withonehandpressedto her mouth and theother to her flutteringstomach, she fled fromtheroom.It was not until shewasalready inbed thatshe recalled his lastwords and realized thatshe had failed to offerhim laudanum for hispain. She consideredreturning to him to

correct the oversight,but dreaded doing so.Then she thought ofwaking Agatha andaskingher todo it,andhadstarted torise fromthe bed before it struckher that that solutionwould not answer. Shecould not think how toexplain thecircumstances to hercompanion, who wouldsurelywonderhowsuch

an oversight hadoccurred in the firstplace.For a brief moment,she even consideredsending Elsie, butquickly rejected thatnotion. The maid’sunderstanding was notof thehighest.Thepoorgirl frequently hadtroublegraspingthegistof even the simplest ofinstructions, and Jane

couldeasilyimagineherdosingtheirpatientwithenoughlaudanumtokillhishorse.In the end, sheconsoled herself withthe thought that if Mr.Sebast’s most recentremarks and conductwereany indication,hispain could not be toosevere.Inanyevent,shewasquitecertainthat ifitbecamenecessary,her

patient was perfectlycapable of shouting thehousedown.

CHAPTERTHREEFortunately for theinjured man there wasnot much left of thenight.Unfortunately,helay awake for theremainder of it, unableto sleep because of theunrelenting pain in histhigh. At one point, hedid, indeed, considershouting at the top ofhis lungsuntilsomeone

came tohis aid, buthediscardedthatnotioninfavour of stoicmartyrdom.Instead, he spentmuch of that timedevising ways in whichhe might take hisrevenge upon theinsensitive female whohad appointed herselfboth his physician andhis nurse, only toabandon him to his

agony. He knew quitewell that he had donehis part in driving heraway,butanyonewithamodicumofsensewouldknowthataman inhiscondition could not beheldaccountableforhisbehaviour.Whenat last sunshinebathedtheroomandhecould hear sounds ofactivity from anotherpart of the house, he

fixed his eyes on thedoor, waiting withfiendish anticipation forhertoenter.After a moment,however, it occurred tohimthathewouldbeata serious disadvantagelying there as he was,with her looking downat him. Laboriously, heplaced the pillowsagainst the head of thebed, then carefully

maneuveredhimselftoasitting position againstthem, though the effortleft him panting andtrembling like anewborn colt. But withthe move finallyaccomplished, hereturnedhisattentiontothe door, thinking.Nowlet her come. He wasreadyforher.But it was some time

beforeanyoneappeared,which did nothing toimprove his temper.When someone finallydidcome,itwasnothisnemesis, but anotherfemale of even greatervintage. He could notrecall having seen thisone before, but as shewas smiling cheerfullyand carrying apromising-looking tray,he decided to hold his

spleen until such timeas he should be facedwithitspropertarget.Sheintroducedherself,and he returned hergood-morning civilly,adding that he hopedhers would prove to bebetter thanhis auguredtobe.Agatha cocked herhead and studied himsolicitously beforesaying, “You poor man.

You lookas thoughyouhadnotsleptawink.”“How observant youare,ma’am,” he said. “Idon’tmeantocomplain,but I fear a bulletwound is not conducivetorestfulsleep.”Hesoftenedthiswithasmile of such singularcharm that even afemale of MissWedmore’s advancedyears was not immune

toit.Forjustamoment,shefelt a breathlessfluttering within herchaste spinster’s breastbeforerecoveringherselfenough to say, “Oh,dear. I’m sure MissLockwood will be verysorry to learn that shedid not dose you withsufficient laudanum torelieveyourpain.”The man’s eyebrows

liftedashe replied, “Mydear Miss Wedmore, Iwas not dosed with somuchasasingledropoflaudanum.”“Not? Now, whatevercan Jane have beenthinking?It isnotatalllikehertobesoremiss.But however it cameabout,Ishallrectifythemistake immediately. Inthe meantime, I havebrought you some

breakfast.”After carefullyarranging the traybeside him on the bed,Agatha whisked thecovering napkin away,andhelookeddownintoabowlofthin,greystuffwhich could only begruel. Beside it sat acupofweak-lookingtea.The expectantexpression faded fromhiscountenance,andhe

groaned beforemuttering,“Imighthaveguessed it. In additiontoallelse,shemeanstostarveme.”Agatha’s lips twitchedever so slightly, but intruth, she could enterinto his sentimentsexactly. However, whenshehadsaidasmuchtoJane earlier, she’dreceivedalectureontheproper diet for an

invalid. This she nowdutifully repeated totheirpatient.After staringather foramoment,hereplied,“IfI were not so da—sohungry, I’d send thisback to that—thatfemale with mycompliments. As it is,you may tell her fromme that for my nextmeal, I expect

something a great dealmoresubstantial.Whereisshe,anyway?”“I collect you arereferring to MissLockwood.”“Yes, if that is theAmazon’s name,” hegrowled.“Well,” said Agatha atrifle vaguely, “as towhere she is at themoment, I could notsay,butIshallcertainly

tell her that you askedfor her when next I seeher.However, I fearsheis rather busy thismorning.”The man gave whatcould only be termed asmirk,andsaid,“I’venodoubtsheis.Asbusyassheiscowardly.”Agatha thought it bestto ignore that remark,and she merely studiedhimwith interestbefore

turningaway, saying, “Ishall fetch thatlaudanumforyounow.”“Miss Wedmore,” hecalled as she reachedthedoor.She paused with herhand on the doorknobandlookedbackathim.“Achilles,” he saidrather anxiously. “Myhorse?”“Oh,”sheassuredhim,“he took no harm in

your recentmishap. Heis in our stables at thismoment, and I promiseyou we shall take verygoodcareofhim.”“My thanks,” he said.“He has seen me safelythrough more than onedifficult situation, and Iamratherfondofhim.”At that, Agathafrowned slightly,wondering if thosedifficult situations of

which he spoke mighthave something to dowith the nefariousactivities of ahighwayman. But sheonly nodded beforeleaving the chamber,saying as she went,“Enjoy your breakfast,Mr. Sebast. I shallreturnshortly.”Upon hearing himselfcalled Mr. Sebast, hestared at the door in

puzzlement, thenshrugged and turnedhis attention to hismeager meal. Themisunderstanding wasof no consequence andcouldbeclearedupatalatertime.Hewassohungrythat,although he would nothave admitted it underanycircumstances,eventhegruel tastedgood tohim. But when he was

doneandwasoncemorelying down, hediscoveredhimself tobeweaker than ever, aswell as exhaustedbeyond belief. Hewanted sleepdesperately, but theunremitting pain in hisleg would not allow it.Andsoitwaswithgreatrelief that he welcomedAgatha back into hischamber a few minutes

later and swallowed thebitter concoction sheoffered without a wordofprotest.Thanking her, hebanded the cup back,then said, “MissWedmore, there isanother service whichyou could perform formeifitwouldnotbetoomuchtrouble.”“Ishouldbehappyto,”she replied. “If I am

able.”“My man, Kearny, willbe wondering what hasbecome of me. Heshould be racked up atthevillageinnbynow.Ishould appreciate it ifyou would send him amessage, telling himthat I have beenwoundedbutamonthemend andrecommending him toremainwhereheisuntil

hereceivesfurtherwordfromme.”“Certainly. You mayconsider it done,” shetold him after only aslighthesitation.“Youareverykind,”hemurmured, his eyelidsbeginningtodroop.Agatha gazed at theman lying on the bed,wondering if sheshouldspeak what was on hermind. Was he the

answer to her prayers,as she had begun tohope, or was hesomething farotherwise?Every instinct told herthat he was agentleman, but shecould so easily bemistaken. He could, intruth, be thehighwayman who hadtheentiredistrictonthefidget.Theman,Kearny,

ofwhomhehadspoken,might well be anaccomplice, althoughshe had heard nothingtoindicatetheexistenceofsuchaperson.Ontheother hand, amanwhowas fond of his horseand worried about itswelfarecouldnotbetoowicked,couldhe?Intheend,shedecidedthat she preferred toplace her trust in her

female intuition, for ithad seldom led herastray.Thatbeingsettled,shesat down in the chairbeside the bed, andsaid, “My good man, Icould not help butnotice earlier that yourfeelings towards MissLockwood seem to besomewhat—that is, theyareatrifle...”“Antipathetic?” he

supplied, opening hiseyes and offering her alazygrin.“Well, yes, thoughperhaps that is toostrongaword.However,whatIwishtotellyouisthat I have been withJane since she was avery young girl, and Ibelieve that I know herbetter than anyone—most certainly betterthansheknowsherself.

And while there is nofiner female than she, Iwould be the first toadmitthatsheisasfullas she can hold withproprieties. Not thatpropriety is abad thingin a female of gentlebirth, but I fear thatJane has a triflingtendency to overdo it,which is likelywhy youhave taken her indislike.

“In any event,” shewent on when hemadeno reply, “I hope youwill not judge her tooharshly, for you see,there are extenuatingcircumstances. Not thatImeantoboreyouwiththose details, butperhaps if I were tomake known to you afew of her betterqualities...”She went on, but by

now the laudanum wastaking hold, and heheard nothing beyondthe drone of her voiceuntilsheendedwiththewords “... and that iswhatIwishedtoconveytoyou,Mr.Sebast.”The repetition of themisnomer pulled himback just enough tomake the attempt atcorrecting her. But heonlymanagedoneword,

“Not...”beforehefloatedoffagainonadeliriouslypain-freecloud.

****Agatha was far off themark when she saidthat she knew Janebetter than that ladyknewherself.Inpointoffact,MissLockwoodwaswell aware of all herfaults, and wasagonizing over them atthatverymoment.

Although a moreyouthful Jane wouldhave thought itimpossible to be tooconcerned with properbehaviour—and,certainly, she still knewits value—there weretimes when sheadmitted, if only toherself, that, possibly,she tended to be a bittoosteepedinpropriety.Onaveryfewoccasions,

she had even sharedAgatha’s wish that shewere a bit less so. Butafter years of ruthlesslytraining oneself to be amodel of decorum, itwas difficult, if notimpossible, suddenly toturn roundandbecomesomethingelse.For themostpart, sheaccepted herself as shewas, the mostmemorable exception to

that being her one,disastrous LondonSeason years before.She had known how itwould be, just as shehadknownthatitwouldtake a very unusualman to overlook all herdrawbacks and offer forher. She had not reallywantedtogotoLondon,but Agatha and Jane’saunt, Lady Chidwell,hadinsisted.

By the time herembitteredand irasciblefatherhad consented togive her a Season, shewasalreadyolder,byatleast two years, thanmost of the other girlsmaking their debutsthat year. That,however, had not beenthe cause of her failureto “take.” Nor was it alackof lookswhichhadbeen the problem. She

was no great beauty,but she had certainlybeen comely enough toattract the notice ofseveral eligiblegentlemen.Althoughherdowrywasnotlarge,shewas the heiress toMeadowbrook, too,which counted forsomething. At least ithad then, for at thattime theestatewasstillbringinginatidyprofit.

But after only onedance and some briefconversation with her,all of the moreinteresting males soonescaped her for thecompany of moreagreeablefemales.Sheknewthatshewasconsidered to be toocold, too aloof, toounbending, even tooprudish, but as muchas she longed to be

more like those othergirls, she had beenwholly unable to relaxher rigid code ofconduct. Besides, shehad not the talent forflirtation or light-hearted chatter withpersons of the oppositesex,andwouldhavefeltridiculousattemptingit.And, of course, therewas always the oldscandal involving her

parents, which was,actually,attheverycoreof the whole matter. It,morethananythingelsein her life, had formedherpresentcharacter.Agatha, always theoptimist, had beencertain that no onewould recall how LadyLockwood had desertedher husband anddaughtertorunoffwithanother man. But,

although no one hadmentioned it in herpresence,Janeknewtheincident had not beenforgotten, and thatknowledgehadrenderedherevenmoreincapableof lowering the barriershehadelectedovertheyears. That barrier hadbeen raised in anattempt to protectherself, to prove herselfto be as unlike her

motheraspossible,andthus win her father’sapproval, somethingwhich, despite all, shehad never been able todo.But if ever she haddoubted the wisdom ofadheringtosuchastrictcode of propriety, shehad only to recall theevents of the previousnight to erase alluncertainty. Nothing

could have shown hermore clearly the folly ofdeviatingfromherusualmode of behaviour. Sheshould not haveremained alone withthat man in hischamber.Andshecouldnot imagine what hadpossessed her to throwherselfuponhiminthatabandoned mannerwithout firstascertainingifheindeed

had a fever. Everythingwithin her cringed eachtime she visualized thescene, and each timeshe did so, it seemedmoreappalling.At that moment,Agatha entered themorning-room, andJane focused herattention on the sheetshewassupposed tobemending.The older woman took

aseatnear theyoungerone and shaking herhead, she said, “How Idislike seeing you doservants’work.”Jane looked up insurprise. It had beenagessincetheyhadhadthis argument and shecould not think whyAgatha should bedredgingitupnow.Shesaid, “Well, if you canthink of a way to teach

Elsie to do it, you willhaveaccomplishedmorethan I have ever beenable to do. You knowthat she is hopelesswith a needle, and youalso know that I donotminddoingit.”Agatha realized it wasfutile to continue thisline of discussion. Shewas aware that Elsiewasnexttouseless,butwith the wages they

could afford to pay,therehadbeennobetterapplicants for theposition. That being so,therewasnothing tobedone, and since thesubject was not whatwas uppermost inAgatha’s mind, shedroppedit.Drawingherownworkbasket closer, she said,“Mr.Sebastseemstobefaringwellthismorning.

Of course he is quiteweak, but at least hehasnofever.”“That is good,”murmuredJanewithoutlookingup.“He asked after you,”saidAgathacasually.At that, Jane glancedup swiftly, then downagain. “Did he?” sheasked, carefullymatching her tone tohercompanion’s.

“Yes,andforsomeoddreason,heseemedtobeof theopinion thatyourfailure to visit him thismorning was due tocowardice. Of courseonemustmakeexcusesfor the poor man. Hewas in a great deal ofpain and said that he’dhad no sleep at all lastnight.”Jane opened hermouth to speak, then,

as though thinkingbetter of it, closed itagain. But Agatha,watching closely, sawwith satisfaction thecrimson colourmounting the youngerwoman’s cheeks. Shewas now quite certainthat Jane was notwholly indifferent totheir unexpected guest.Shewas equally certainthat something had

occurred between thetwoofthemthepreviousnight.Nothingshortofamajor distraction wouldhave prevented Janefrom seeing to herpatient’s comfort, andAgatha would havegiven much to knowwhatitwas.Jane was feelingextremelyuncomfortable. Sheknew that her patient

had gone sleepless foronly a portion of thenight. Still, she feltguiltyforhavingfledhischamber withoutofferinghimthereliefoflaudanum. On top ofthatwastheunwelcomeknowledge that it was,indeed,cowardicewhichhadkeptherawayfromhim that morning. Asmuch as she dislikedadmitting to such

craven behaviour, shehadsimplybeenunableto force herself to facehim after what hadhappened. But it wasmorethanthat.She, too, had lainawake for at least anhour, trying to analyzeher feelings towardshim, and still she didnot understand them.Even without theembarrassment of all

that had occurredbetween them, heawakened feelings andreactions in her whichwere completely foreigntoher,andmorethanalittlefrightening.Each time she hadfound herself near him,from that first momentwhen she had kneltbeside him in the road,she had felt oddlybreathless andon edge,

with strange flutteringsin her chest andstomach. During thenight, she had decidedthat these sensationswere not at all pleasantand had vowed to stayawayfromhimasmuchas possible until shecould be safely rid ofhim. She had alsovowed to stop thinkingabout him, but shecouldnotseemtodoso.

Her first thoughts uponawakeningthatmorninghad been of him... andmost of her thoughtssince, if she were to betruthful.Even worse, she couldnot seem to stop thesudden visions of hisface—or, God help her,hisbody—whichflashedinto her mind at oddmoments.However, she knew

thatshehadtofacehimsooner or later, andsince she did not wishto give him furthercause to stigmatize heras a coward, shesupposed that soonerwould be better. Shedecided that she wouldtake his noon meal ofbroth to him and that,thistime,shewouldnotallowhimtodiscomposeherinanyway.

Itwasadecisionwhichprovedtobemoreeasilyformedthancarriedout,for she entered hischamber, shortly afterthe noon hour, with agreatdealoftrepidation.Despite her goodintentions, she wasalone again. At the lastmoment, Agatha hadsuddenly discoveredsomething of greatimportance which

required her presenceelsewhere. And, ofcourse, Elsie could notbefoundanywhere.When Jane hadremonstrated with hercompanion, Agatha hadsaid, “Nonsense, mydear. You are merelyministering to a sickand injured man—something which youhave done frequently inthe past without a loss

ofreputation.Therecanbe nothing improper init, and no one couldthink otherwise.Moreover,themanissoweak he could not hurtafly.”Janecouldnotreplytothat without revealingfarmorethanwaswise.She could not explain,eventoherself,whyshefeltthatthisman,weakor not, could be

dangeroustoher.Now, as she looked athim across the room,her face paled, thenturnedrosyandheated,and all thoseuncomfortablesensationswereback infullforce.Hewassittingup in bed, relaxedagainst a mound ofpillows with thatblatantly male chestexposed, and he was

gazingatherwiththosehooded,darkeyes.Aslowgrinshapedhismouth,andhesaidinalow,intimatevoice,“Ah,at last. My angel ofmercy has come tosuccourme.’’

CHAPTERFOURAlthough she wouldnot have credited thepossibility, Jane feltherself blushing evenmore furiously. Tocounter her reaction,she pressed her lipsfirmlytogetherandliftedher chin haughtilybeforeadvancingtowardthe bed, saying, “I havebrought you some

luncheon,Mr.Sebast.”With hunger gnawingat his stomach, heignored the misnomeragain, frowned at thetray,andsaid,“Ihopeitis something moresustaining than gruelthistime.”Without answering,Jane arranged the traybesidehimand steppedback.After staring at her

suspiciously for amoment,beremovedthenapkin himself andexclaimed, “Damnation!What are you trying todo tome,woman?Whydidyounotsimplyallowme to bleed to deathyesterday?Itwouldhavebeenkinderby far thanthisslowstarvation.Butno doubt kindness isnot your object.Doubtless you enjoy

torturingyourvictims.”Jane’s chin rose evenhigher. She said, “I amsorry if you dislike beefbroth, sir, but I assureyou that for an invalid—”“Don’tbothertorepeatthat particular fairytale,” he interrupted.“Miss Wedmoreentertained me with itthismorning, and I didnot find it amusing

then.Infact,Idistinctlyremember telling herthat I expected moresubstantial fare in thefuture.’’“I believe, sir, that inthis matter I am morequalified than you to—”Janebegancoolly.“Devil take you,madam!” he shouted.“Either bring me somefood I can getmy teethintoorIshallthrowthis

swill against yonderwall!”Jane drew herself upstiffly, and for the firsttime a touch of angersounded inhervoice. “Ishall try if I can toignore your ill temper,Mr. Sebast, since Isuppose nothing bettercan be expected from aman who follows suchanoccupationasyours.However, I do wish you

would at leastmake anattempt to moderateyourlanguagewhileyouareinmyhome.”If she expected anapology from him, shewas doomed to bedisappointed. Instead,heaskedirritably,“Whydo you insist uponcallingmeMr.Sebast?”Jane’s eyebrows shotup. “Why, it is yourname, is it not? In any

event, it is the one yougaveme.”“Mmm,” he murmurednoncommittally. Whenhadhegivenherafalsename he wondered? Hemust have had areason, but since hecouldnotrecallitatthemoment,perhapsitwasbest to play a waitinggame for now. But, asshe was watching himwithapuzzledfrown,he

muttered, “I suppose Iam unused to beingaddressed so...formally.”Herexpressioncleared,andshe retorted, “I canwellbelievethat!”Hertoneremindedhimof an earlier remark-something about his“occupation.” “Why,exactly,doyouholdmeinsuch low regard?”he

demanded.Smiling thinly, shesaid, “Come now, Mr.Sebast. Do you denythat you are thehighwayman who hasbeen victimizing thisregionoflate?”He gazed at herblankly for a moment,then, impelled by asense of deviltry, heleaned back and asked,“Would it do any good

for me to deny it? Itseems that you havecaught me out. I canonly wonder how youguessed.”Despite an unexpectedfeeling ofdisappointment, shemanaged to say, “Oh, itwas not so difficult.There was your horse,which is very like theone the highwayman issaid to ride. And,

although you were notbrandishingitwhenyoustopped my carriage,you were armed with apistol.”At that, he frownedagainandsaid,“Ahyes,my pistol. Where is it,bytheway?”She offered him asmile, and he wassurprised how itchanged and improvedher looks. Suddenly he

found himself wantingtoknowmoreaboutthisunusualfemale.Unaware of hisreaction, she repliedarchly, “Youdon’treallybelieve me such a foolas to tell you that, doyou?”“No,Isupposenot,”hesaid.Then,grinning,hechanged the subject,saying, “At least I nowhave an explanation for

why I was shot. I hadbeen wondering if youmadeahabitofgreetingallstrangers insuchanunfriendlymanner.”Her own eyes nowgleaming with humour,she said, “Oh, no. Onlythose who ride blackhorses.”He acknowledged thatwithasmile, then,withan audible reminderfrom his stomach, he

gestured towards thetrayandsaid,“Sincewehaveagreedthatyouareno fool, I am certainthat you will see thewisdom of bringing mesome genuine food toreplacethispap.”Jane sighed,recognizing the futilityofarguingwithhim.Shecould well believe thathis threat of throwingthe tray had not been

an idleone. “Verywell,”she conceded, “but donot blameme if it doesyou more harm thangood.”“I shan’t,’’ he assuredher.Whennextsheenteredhis chamber, the trayheld some generousslices of roasted beef, achunk of cheese, somefresh baked bread, andamugofale.

“This is more like it,”he said withsatisfaction. “Andnow Iknow that you are,indeed, my angel ofmercy.”Blushing again, shesaid primly, “I am nosuch thing, Mr. Sebast.AndIonlyhopethatyoudo not come to regretthis.”“Never!” he returned.Then he demanded,

“Whereareyougoing?”Jane had turned toleave, but at that shestopped and said, “Icannot remain herealone with you, Mr.Sebast. It would not beproper.”“Devil take propriety,”he said, turning hisattention back to thetray. “I want you tostay.’’This was met with

utter silence, andglancing up again hesaid, “Oh, don’t pokerupso!Ididnotmeantooffend you, but I seenothingwronginhavingyou stay here with me.After all, you are in theway of being myphysician,areyounot?”“Well, I suppose onemight say that,” sheanswereduncertainly.“Yes, and so there can

be nothing improper ingiving me yourcompany. Besides, itbehooves you to stay inthe event that you areright and I suffer asevere setback as aresult of eating genuinefood.”“In which case youwouldbe justly served,”she told him, trying forsternness but failing.The attempt was

completely foiled by aslight twitching of herlips and an amusedgleaminhereyes.His eyes held ananswering light as hesaid, “Ah, and onlythink what satisfactionit would give you to beable to say, ’I told youso.’”Atthat,Janecouldnothold back a full-fledgedsmile as she replied,

“Now that is a mostconvincing inducement,sir. Still, I do not think—”“In addition,” heinterrupted hastily, “Ifail to see what I canpossibly do, in mycondition, to ruin yourreputation. And if thatdoesnotconvinceyou,Ishall threaten to risefrommy bed of pain tofollowyouifyoushould

leave.”“Youwouldnot!”“Doyouwishtoputmetothetest?”“You are anunprincipledknave,Mr.Sebast.”“I admit it. MissLockwood,butwhatcanyou expect from ahighwayman?”Deciding that shewouldbewisenottocallhis bluff, Jane gave in

as graciously as shecould and sat downuneasily on the edge ofthe bedside chair. Sheknew that staying withhim was wrong. Shealso knew that it was,above all things, justwhat she wished to do,but she banished thatknowledge to a farcornerofhermind.“Mmm,” he murmuredwithapprovalas,having

gained his objective, hedelved wholeheartedlyinto his meal. “This iswellworththechanceofasetback.”Silence then reignedwhile he consumedseveral astonishinglylargebitesofbread,beefandcheesewithobviousrelish. Fascinated, shewatchedhishandasheraised the mug to hismouth for a long

swallowofale,unabletoprevent herself fromfocusing on his mouthas his tongue came outtolickhislips.And suddenly he wasgrinningather.Only then did Janerealize that she hadbeen staring, her ownlips parted, while shefantasized about feelinghismouthonhers.Dear

heaven! she thought.She had never beenkissed in her life, noteven by her father, andcouldnotthinkhowshehad come to be havingsuch thoughts aboutthisdangerousstranger.She looked away inembarrassment andsaid the first thingwhich came into herhead.“Mygoodness,butit is getting warm, is it

not?“Hisgrinwidened,sinceit was actually rathercool for a summer day.He said, “I had notnoticed until now, butdo you know, I believeyou are right. It seemstobegettingwarmerbytheminute.”She could not takeexception to what hehad said, but felt,somehow, that she

should, and thisconfused her. Resistingan urge to fidget, shecast about for aninnocuous topic ofconversation but couldcome up with nothing.What did one speak ofwhen conversing with ahighwayman?Anditdidnot help that, althoughhe had resumed eating,his eyes remained fixed

uponherwithapatentlyamusedexpression.Finally, goaded, shesaid, “I wish you wouldnotstareatmeso!”“Do I make younervous?”heasked.“No—yes. I mean—hasno one ever told youthatitisrudetodoso?”“Frequently,” herepliedindifferently.“And Isupposeyoudonotcareforthat?”

“Notparticularly.”Shegaveashortlaughbefore saying, “Well,that was a stupidquestion.Ofwhatuseispolite behaviour to ahighwayman?”“None at all, I shouldthink,”heagreed.“I suppose you do notcarewhattheworldmaythinkofyou,either.”Ratherthanreplyingtothat,heasked, “Do you

care so much for theopinionofothers?”“Yes, of course I do,”she answered with atouchofdefiance inhervoice, although she didnot know why sheshould be feelingdefensive.“Why?”heasked.Jane frowned, notknowing for a momenthowtoanswerhim.Hermotherhadnot careda

fig for the opinion ofothers, and though shemight not have sufferedfor it, Jane and herfathercertainlyhad.Butshe could not tell himthat. Finally she said,“Well, I should thinkthatwouldbeobvious.Ifeveryone ignored therules of Society, therewould be nothing butchaos.”

“Oh, Igrantyou,theremust be some rulesgoverning Society, butwhatIhadinmindwerethoseruleshavingtodowith propriety. Has itnever struck you howridiculous andunnaturalmanyofthemare?”“Idonotfindthemso,”shesaidprimly,butshecouldnotmeethiseyes,knowing that itwasnot

strictlythetruth.“Doyounot?”heaskedsoftly, taking in herunnaturallystiffpostureandthedisapprovingsetofhermouth.“Haveyounever longed to simplylet down your hair andrelax, to do somethingpurelyfortheenjoymentofit?”Remindedagain ofhermother’s misconduct,Janefeltanangeroutof

all proportion to theconversation.And itdidnothelptoknowthathewas right, to bereminded of howfrequently she had,indeed, longed to befree.But a lady did notshowheremotions,andshestruggledtocontainhers before sayingcoolly, “I thinkwemustagreetodisagreeonthis

subject, Mr. Sebast. Inanyevent, Idonotcaretodiscuss itwithyou. Ishall only say thatSociety can be verycruel to those who donotheeditsopinions.”He studied herspeculatively for amoment, then shruggedandturnedhisattentionbacktohismeal.After a fewminutes ofsilence, Jane asked,

“Wereyouasoldier,Mr.Sebast?”“I was,” heacknowledgedbriefly.Jane nodded. “Ithoughtasmuch.AndIsuppose,likesomanyofour fighting men, youwere unable to findgainful employmentupon being sent home.Isthatwhyyoubecameahighwayman?”

“As you say,” heanswered cautiously,“without gainfulemployment, a man isleftwithlittlechoicebutto become either acriminalorabeggar.”Leaning forwardeagerly, she said, “Yes,and the real crime isthat men who havefought so valiantly forour country should betreated so shabbily on

theirreturn.Butdoyounot see that if youcontinue on this courseyou have chosen, youwill eventually becaughtandhanged?”“Why,MissLockwood,”he teased, “does thethought of my beinghangeddistressyou?”Distress was scarcelythe word for theemotionsbroughtonbythat thought, but she

only said, “The thoughtof anyone being hangeddistresses me, and thisis hardly a matter forlevity.’’“Forgive me,” he saidin a chastened voice.“But what would youhavemesay?Thefactofthe matter is that Iwould as lief be ahighwayman if my onlyother choice werebegging.”

Leaning forwardagain,she said very earnestly,“Yes, but if I—ifsomeone were to offeryou respectableemployment...”He knew that heshouldputastoptothisnow, but was oddlyreluctant to do so. Hewas enjoying it toomuch. She wasobviously a do-gooder,and teasing her was

almost irresistible. Butaside from that, hisstrength was waningagain. Leaning backagainst the pillows, heclosedhiseyesandsaid,“Well, it is certainlysomething to thinkabout,butnotjustnow,ifyouplease.”“Oh,” said Jane,recalling his weakenedcondition. “Of course,you must rest if you

can. Is your woundpainingyou?”“Liketheverydevil,”hesaid, and watched frombeneath half-loweredeyelids to see herreaction.To his surprise, shemerely smiled ruefullywith a slight shake ofher head before asking,“Shall I bring you somelaudanum?”He hesitated, knowing

what relief it wouldbring, but he dislikedthe accompanying lossof control. During thewar, be had seen morethan onewoundedmanbecome too dependentuponthedrug.Hesaid,“I think not. I prefer todowithoutitifIcan.”It was her turn tohesitate. What she wasabout to offer wouldnecessitate touchinghis

bare limb again, andthat she shrank fromdoing.Butsheknewshewouldbeobligedtodoitsoon in any event. Hisdressing would need tobe changed and thewound inspected forsignsofinfection.Atlastshe said, “I have anointment I might apply.It is not as effective aslaudanum, but it willafford you some relief.

Would you prefer to trythat?”Heassented,andJaneleft,tellinghimthatshewould return soon. Butasitturnedout,itwasafull twenty minutesbefore she kept thatpromise,Shespentmostofthattime in searching forAgatha, but to Jane’sgreat annoyance, thatladywasnowhere to be

found. She dideventually come acrossElsie, however, and inthe end was obliged tomake do with the maidasachaperon.Shealsotook the time to collectone of her late father’snightshirts.When she wasstanding beside herpatient’sbedoncemore,she thought at first hehad fallen asleep, and

shestartedtoturnawaywithrelief.Butthenhislids lifted and he gazedat her with such pain-filled eyes that she wasovercome withcompassion as well asguiltforhavingtakensolong.She said softly, “I amsorry to have kept youwaiting,Mr.Sebast,butI have brought theointment now.” He

merelynodded,andshecontinuedtentatively,“Itwill be necessaryto...ah...to expose yourlimb,sir.”As he drew back thesheet, a smile quirkedhis lips and he said, “Iwishyouwouldnotreferto it as my limb. MissLockwood. I am not atree.”“Your appendagethen,”sheconceded.

“GoodGod!Thatbringsto mind some freakishcreature with tentaclesor antennae. Can younot simply call it by itsproper name? It is myleg,or,morespecificallyinthiscase,mythigh.’’“‘A rose by any othername...’”shequoted.“Exactly so!” he said.“So you might just aswellcall itby itspropername.”

“But you must know,sir, that it isnotproperfor a lady to refer to itthus.”“Yes,andwhatagreatpiece of nonsense thatis!”Jane did not reply tothat. By concentratingsolely upon his woundand her task, she soonhad removed thebandage, applied her

ointment and redressedthewound.“Well?” he asked.“ShallIlive?”“Ohyes,”sheansweredwith a pleased smile. “Ithink, most definitely,yes. Of course there isstill danger of infection,but for now, at least,thereisnosignofthat.”“Ah,” he said,surprised to discoverthat the pain had

already lessened tomanageableproportions. “What anunusualfemaleyouare,Miss Lockwood. And atalented one, too, Imightadd.”Flustered by hiscompliment, Jane triedtocoverupherreactionby becoming verybusinesslike, gatheringher supplies and tellinghim that he must rest

now. She knew,however,bytheamusedlookinhiseyesthatshehad failed to mask herblushing agitation.Lowering her own eyes,she encountered thathairy chest again andrecalled her otherpurpose.Holding the nightshirtout to him, she said, “Ithought you would bemore comfortable

wearingthis,sir.”He eyed the garment,ran a hand slowly overhis chest, then lookedup at her innocently.“Actually, I am moreusedtosleepinginthe—er— but if it will makeyoumore comfortable, Ishallwearit.”“Thank you!’’ she saidwith just a hint ofsarcasm.

He grinned, andmoving his hand fromhis chest to his jaw,said, “Tellme,mydear.Inaddition tokeepingasupplyofnightshirtsonhand for your maleguests, do you alsoprovide them withshavinggear?”“The nightshirtbelonged to my latefather,Mr. Sebast,” shesaid a trifle stiffly, “and

astotheshavinggear,IshallhaveMelrosebringittoyou.”She then did the onlything she could. Shemade a hasty retreat,takingthegawkingElsiewithher.Jane had dismissedElsie and proceededtowards her ownchamber before sherealized that she wassmiling. She stopped in

the middle of thehallway and touchedher lips with herfingertipsinwonder.She had actuallyenjoyed much of hermost recent encounterwith Mr. Sebast. Yes,andwhatwasevenmoreamazing, and ratherexhilarating, too, wasthe knowledge that shehad not suffered theparalyzingawkwardness

which usually afflictedher in the presence ofstrangegentlemen.Was that because hewasahighwayman?Butno, she decided in thenext instant. Althoughshecouldnothavesaidwhy,sheratherthoughtthat he had at leastbeen bred a gentleman,and therefore, perhapshe was not beyondredemption.

She had taken severalmoresteps,butnowshestopped again toconsiderthatnotion.Common sense toldher that she ought onlyto be concerned withgetting him well to thepoint where she couldberidofhim.Still, thatmighttakeseveraldays,and there could be noharmintryingtoreformhim during that time,

couldthere?Infact,wasit not her duty at leastto attempt to turn himfrom the disastrouspath he had chosen tofollow? One mightalmost say that it wasfated.

CHAPTERFIVE“What drivel!”exclaimed Jane’spatient,interruptingherin the middle of asentence.It was the followingafternoon. Jane wasonce more alone withhiminhischamber,butbynowithadhappenedso frequently that it nolonger seemed such a

breach of propriety.Repetitionhadgraduallyquieted her conscience,andshetoldherselfthatto continue baulkingwould be to make amountain out of amolehill. After all, Mr.Sebast was in nocondition to harm her,and in any event, hewouldsoonbegone.At his remark, Janelookedupfromthebook

she had been readingaloud and declared,“Really, Mr. Sebast. Ishould scarcelystigmatize Shakespeareasdrivel!”“If that isShakespeare,” heasserted, “then I amKingGeorge.”Asmilecurvedherlipsand she replied, “Thenyoumust certainly ownto being our poor, mad

king, sir, for this isindeedShakespeare.”Triumphantly,sheheldthe book up so that hemightreadthetitle.“The FamilyShakespeare, byThomas Bowdler,” hemuttered, then rolledhis eyes. “As I saidbefore,itisdrivel.Worsethandrivel, in fact,andifyouhadeverreadthe

original version, youwouldknowit.”“Well,”sheadmitted,“Imust own that I amfindingthistoberatherdull reading. Is theoriginal really so verydifferent?”“Asnightistoday,”heassured her. “When Iam on my feet again, Ishall obtain a copy foryou.”Alarmed at the

prospect of how hemight obtain such acopy, she said quickly,“That is very kind ofyou, but it is not at allnecessary....”“No,”heagreed,“andIam seldom kind.Nevertheless, I shall doso.Icannotallowyoutocontinue thinking thatShakespeare wouldwrite such bland stuff.This idiot, Bowdler, has

managed to takeall thefire and passion out ofit.” Seeing her blush athis mention of fire andpassion delighted him,butheresistedtheurgeto teaseher andmerelyadded, “Now, what isthat other book youhavethere?”“Oh,” she said, “it iscalled Pride andPrejudice.Haveyouread

it?”“No. For a good manyyears, I was out of thecountry. Except for theclassics, I fear that Ihavefallenfarbehindinmyreading.”HedidnotmentionthathistimeinEnglandhadbeenspentin less admirablepursuits than reading.Instead he said, “Idaresay that bookcannot be any worse

than The FamilyShakespeare,however.”“Oh, it is a great dealbetter, I assure you. Ilike it excessively,and Ithink you will, too.”Then sheadded, a littleuncertainly, “But,perhaps not. It is aromance and waswritten by a lady.However, she is verywitty and clever, and

she pokes fun atSociety, which you willnodoubtappreciate.”“Touché,” heacknowledged with agrin.“ButIpromiseyou,I have nothing againstfemale authors,especially if they arecleverandhaveasenseofhumour.”“Then we havesomething in common,”

sherepliedarchly,“for Ihave nothing againstmaleauthors.”He laughed and toldher, “Now,that’s landedmeafacer!”Jane smiled, thenpaused, fingering thebook in her lap, beforebeginning tentatively,“Mr.Sebast...”He held up his handandsaid,“Please,surelysuch formality is

unnecessary betweenpatient andphysician. Iwish youwould callmeJon.”He could no longerendurebeingcalled ‘Mr.Sebast.’ And althoughhe was not fond of thenameandneverusedit,at leastJonwasnotanalias. He answered toSebastian whennecessary,but thatwastoo close to ‘Sebast’ for

comfort.She had been curiousas to what his givenname was, and,forgetting propriety forthe moment, she said,half testing, halfquestioning,“John?”GoodGod!hethought.John and Jane. Howalarmingly appropriatethey sounded together.Making haste to correct

her,hesaid,“No,itisJ-o-n,withasoftJ. I fearmy mother was of aromantic nature.’’ Hepaused before adding,“But if you prefer, youmight call me Saint, asmany of myacquaintancesdo.”Atthat,Janecouldnotsuppress a peal oflaughter, and she said,“Heavens! What an

inappropriate name forahighwayman.IthinkIshouldprefertoaddressyou as Jon.” Then afrowncreasedherbrow.“ButifIweretocallyouJon, then youwouldbefreetocallmeJane,andthatwouldnotbe—”He stopped her again.“I know. I know. Itwould not be proper.But, my dear Jane, Ithoughtwe had already

establishedthefactthatI am not in the leastproper.”Sheshookherheadathimwitharuefulsmile.“Do youknowhowverydifficult it is to defeatyouinanargument?”“Then do not attemptit,” he recommended.“Besides, we are nothavinganargument,weare having adiscussion.”Seeing that

she was not entirelyconvinced, hecontinued. “If you areworried over whatotherswill think, Ihavea solution. In private Ishall call youJane,butwhen others arepresent, I shall addressyou as Miss Jane. Willthatanswer?”In her mind, she wasalready thinking of himas Jon, and after a

momentofarguingwithherbetterjudgment,shesaid, “Yes, I suppose itmight.”Shespokefirmlyenough,butloweredhereyesmodestly.“Excellent!” he said.“And now that we havethat settled, what is itthat you were about tosay to me when I sorudelyinterruptedyou?”She looked up, andsuddenly her mind was

blank, but thiswas notentirely due to hisinterruption. It hadmore to do with whereher gaze became fixed,as though it had a willofitsown.He was sitting up,leaningbackagainsttheheadboard, his pillowsbehindhim,andhewaswearing one of herfather’s nightshirts.Regrettably, however,

her father had beenneither as tall nor asbroadofshoulderasherhighwayman. As aresult,thegarmentwas,of necessity, leftunbuttoned from mid-chest to throat. Untilnow,shehadstudiouslyavoided looking at theexposed portion of hischestNow, shewasnotonly staring at it, butfoundherselfwondering

if the hair there wouldfeel soft toher touchorcrisp.“Jane?” he askedquizzically. Recallingherself with a slightstart, she raised hereyestohisfaceandsaidquickly, if a triflebreathlessly, “Oh, yes, Iwascuriousaboutthoseyears you spent out ofthe country. Were youwith the army for the

wholeofthattime?”“Good God, no! I onlyfoughtinthewarforthelasttwoyearsofit,untilafter Waterloo. I spentnearly half of the tenyears before that inAmerica.”“America!” she said.Her curiosity ranrampant. Shewonderedwhat had happened tomakehimleaveEnglandin the first place, and

for so long a time. Butwhen she heard wherehe had been, onequestion tookprecedence over allothers.Leaningforward,she asked eagerly, “Didyou meet any Indianswhileyouwerethere?”He laughed, thenteased, “Why, Jane, Iwould never have takenyou for one of thosebloodthirsty females,

eager to hear tales ofbarbaricsavages.”She waved a handimpatiently, dismissingsuch a notion. “No, no!ItisnottheirsavageryIaminterestedin.”Then,before she could stopherself, she asked, “Arethey truly as savage astheyaresaidtobe?”This time he laughedeven harder before

saying, “Despite yourlack of interest in thematter, I shall tell youthat, indeed, they are.”In a more sober voice,he added, “But I canalso attest to the factthattheyareamongthemost noble andadmirable people whoeverwalkedthisearth.”“Howstrangethattheyshould be both,” saidJanewithwonder.“But

what I started to askaboutistheirknowledgeofherbsandmedicine.Ihave heard that theirexperience with suchthings is considerable.Did you meet any ofthem? You must havedone,sinceyouseemtoknow so much aboutthem.”“Idid,”hetoldher.“Asa matter of fact, I livedfor severalmonths with

a band of the Sioux.That is the name giventhem by the Americansand the French, buttheycall themselvestheDah-ko-tas.”“Good God!” sheexclaimed. “Were youcaptured?”“No. Had I been, it isunlikelythat Iwouldbeheretotellthetale.Asithappened, I was in aposition to do a service

forthechief’sson.LittleFox had been woundedby some Americancavalry who werechasing him, and I wasable to hide him untilthedangerhadpassed.”Heshruggedandadded,“The chief was sogratefulthatheadoptedmeintothetribe.”“Oh, my,” shebreathed. “I should loveto hear all about your

time with them. Butfirst tell me, please,about their healingpractices.”“Ishallbehappytotellyou what little I know,butIfearitisnotmuch.Healing among theIndians is done bymedicine men—or insome cases, medicinewomen—who guardtheir secrets mostjealously.Butyoumust

first answer a questionforme.Howintheworlddid you become sointerested in herbs andhealing?”“Oh, there is nomysterytothat.Evenasa young girl, before mymother—thatis,beforeIlost my mother, I usedto visit our tenants andtry to help them whentheywereoldorinneed.Ialwaysfeltsohelpless,

though, in the face ofillness, until the vicargave me a book onhealing, and it hasfascinated me eversince. But now, if youplease, do not keep meinsuspenseanylonger.”Pride and Prejudicewas forgotten as JontoldJaneallheknewofherbal healing amongthe Indians.Although it

was something of adisappointment to herthat he could not giveher the English namesfor many of the herbsused by the natives ofAmerica, she did notreallymind.Whathedidtell her was so veryinteresting that she lostalltrackoftime.At last, however, hergaze fell upon themantel clock, and she

jumpedup,saying,“Oh,goodheavens!IshallbelateformymeetingwithMr. Phillips, my estateagent. I must go atonce.”He grasped her handbefore she could turnaway, and said, “Comeback to me when youaredone.”She looked down ather hand, which hadnever looked so dainty

and feminine as it nowdid, clasped in his ownlarger,strongerone.Sheswallowed before sayingdoubtfully, “I don’tknow. I have alreadyspent hours with you,and...” Her voice trailedoff.“But there is somuchmore I wish to tell youabout my life with theIndians. For instance,therearetheircourtship

and marriage customs,which I know willfascinateyou.”Heat rose in hercheeks, but she gavehim an indulgent smileas she said accusingly,“I believe you delight inmakingmeblush,sir.”“Ido,”headmitted,“forit is vastly becoming toyou.”“I must go,” she saidagain,attemptingtopull

herhandfree.He retained it, saying,“I’ll not let you leaveuntil I have yourpromise to return. Youcannot know what adeadboreitistolieherewith none but my owncompany.”“Well,” she conceded,“perhaps later, afterdinner. But you mustpromise not to put meto the blush with your

stories.”Hegrinned.“Youmakeit very difficult for me,my dear, but I shall domybest.”Daringly, Jane cockedan eyebrow at him andasked, “Your best tomake me blush, or torefrainfromdoingso?”“You are too clever byhalf, sweetheart,” heanswered.Jane quickly left the

roomtothesoundofhislaughter. But she didnot mind that in theleast, for her heart wassinging. He had calledher “sweetheart.” Ofcourseitmeantnothing.But no one had evercalled her that beforeand, foolish as it mightbe, she could not helpbut treasure the soundofit.Norcouldshehelpwonderinghow itwould

beifhewereevertosayitandmeanit.

****After Jane had gone,Jon lay back, reviewingthe past hours spentwithher.He grinnedasherecalledsomeoftheirconversation and herreactions, especiallyherblushes, which heindeed delighted inprovoking.Hewonderedifsheevenrealizedthat,

at one point, she hadused the phrase, “GoodGod,” whichwas one ofhis own habitualexclamations. Yes, shewas definitely becomingmore relaxed with him.Perhaps achieving thegoal he had set himselfwouldprovetobeeasierthan he’d at firstbelieved.At that, he felt amomentary twinge of

guilt, but was able tobanish it almostinstantly.Afterall,whathe was doing was notsimply for his ownamusement; it was forher benefit as well. Itcould not be good foranyone to be so boundup in propriety. And itwas not as if hemeantto seduce orcompromise her. Hewouldnotgobeyondthe

line.Glancing at the clock,hesawthat itwouldbemorethananhouruntildinner and wonderedhow to spend the time.Surprisingly,hewasnotat all tired,which ruledout the possibility ofsleep. Then be noticedthe book Jane had leftlying on the bedsidetable.He reached for it,but after a brief

hesitation, he changedhis mind and left itthere. He preferred towait until Jane couldread it to him.Shehada remarkably pleasantvoice, rather low andmusical, and he haddiscovered that heenjoyedlisteningtoher.He shifted his positionand looked at the clockagain. Good God! Thedamned hands had

scarcelymovedatall. Itwas truly amazing howquickly the hours withJane seemed to passand how slowly theywent when he wasalone. He even foundhimself resenting theunknown Mr. Phillipsfor having taken heraway.At last, however, thedinner hour came andwent, and he began to

wait impatiently forJane to return as shehadpromised.Butwhendarknesshadfallenandstill she had not come,irritabilitywasadded toimpatience. She hadlikely gone out onanother of her damnedmissions of mercy, hedecided,andwasalittleashamed and surprisedto discover that heharbouredsopossessive

an attitude. But, deviltakeit,heshouldbeherfirstprioritynow.He was consideringshoutinghernameuntilshewas forced tomakeanappearance,whenhewas distracted by asoundat thewindow. Itwasnotuntilthesoundwas repeated that herealized what it was.Someone was outside,

throwingpebbles.With a swift glance atthe closed door, hepushed the sheet asideandgingerlyslidhislegsoverthesideofthebed.Then he slowly stood—and immediately satdownagainasawaveoffaintness threatened tooverwhelm him.Damnation! He had notrealizedthathewasstillsoweak.

Another handful ofpebbles hit thewindow,andhestoodevenmoreslowly and carefully,and this time managedto hobble to theaperture. He gave ventto a few more choicecurses as he neared it,for someof themissileshad landed inside, onthefloor.Peering down into thedarkness,heatfirstsaw

nothing, but then ashadow moved awayfrom under the deeperblacknessofatree,andhis suspicion wasconfirmed. Herecognized Kearny, hisman of all jobs andperhaps his only realfriend. Though theformer American furtraderwouldneverhaveadmitted to any of thesofter emotions, he had

proven his devotion toJon by following himback to England andhadevenremainedwithhim throughout hisarmycareer.“I got yer message.Saint,” said Kearny inwhat was no doubtmeant to be a whisperbut might as well havebeen a shout. “I got totell you, though, it tookme a spell to figger out

whothehellMr.Sebastwas.”“Lower your voice,”hissed Jon. “And if yougot my message, and‘figgeredout’itwasfromme, why did you notremain at the inn as Idirected?”Kearny scratched hisnose and lowered hisvoice a fraction. “Wellnow, Imight have, onlyit seemed to me that’

somethin’smelledkindarotten in Denmark, ifyou knowwhat Imean.Notquiteuptosnuff,asyouEnglisherssay.”Jonlaughedsoftly,andsaid, “Well, as ithappens, I amglad youare here. I haven’t timenow to tell you thewhole, but suffice it tosay that I have beenwounded and shall be

laid up here for severaldays.”“That’s what I wasafraid of,” growledKearny. “Tell me whodone it to you and I’lltakecareofhim.”“Unnecessary,” Jonquicklyassuredhim.“Itwas an accident. Butthere is something youcan do for me. I havedecidedtoremainintheneighbourhood for a

time—”“Ha!” interruptedKearny. “That don’tsurprise me, bein’ ashowyoubeendoin’yourdamndest to shake offthatwomanwhat’sbeenchasin’afteryou.”ItwasLydiaCathcart’srelentlesspursuitofhimwhich had driven Joninto the wilds ofYorkshire, but, havingno wish to discuss the

tenacious lady, heignored Kearny’scomment. Instead, hequickly told hishenchman what wasrequiredofhimandhadscarcely finished whenhe heard a soundoutsidehisdoor.Withaquick gesture be senthis man away, thenturned just as the dooropened and Janeenteredthechamber.

She stopped abruptlywhen she saw him,obviouslyshocked.Thenstarting toward himagain, she exclaimed,“Oh! You foolish man!What are youdoing outof bed? How do youexpect your wound tohealatthisrate?”“My wound is healingquite nicely, thanks toyourexcellentcare.Andasforbeingoutofbed,I

thoughtabitofexercisemighthelpmetoregainmy strength morerapidly.”Hetookseverallimping steps, thenstopped, and with arather sheepish smilesaid, “But I find that Iam weaker than Ithought. I fear I shallneed your help inreturningtobed.”“Foolish beyondpermission,” murmured

Janeasshereachedhisside.Apparently without athought for propriety,and ignoring the factthat he was clad innothing but a too-smallnightshirt, she placedher left arm around hiswaist, while he placedhisrightonearoundhershoulders.Though it was truethathewasfarfromhis

usual strength, heleaned on her a triflemore than wasnecessary, tighteninghis arm and bringingher closer against hisside.She felt surprisinglygoodthere,anditstruckhimquitesuddenlythather height suited himvery well. In fact, if hewere to turn her andhold her in a full

embrace, she would fithimperfectly.Hewouldneed only to lower hisheadslightlyinordertokissher.At that moment, theyreached the bed, andJane looked up at him,her lips slightly partedasifshehadbeenprivyto his thoughts. Heslowly dragged his gazefrom those lips. Theystared into each other’s

eyes for long seconds,until it occurred to himthat what he wasthinkingandfeelingwasdangerous. In truth, hewanted to do far morethan simply kiss her.Oldhabits diedhard, itseemed.It took every ounce ofhiswill-powertoremovehis arm from hershoulders and lowerhimself to the bed, but

he did so, feeling quitenoble, albeit extremelyfrustrated. He wasaided, however, in thisheroic effort by the factthat his wound hadbegun throbbingviciouslyagain.Janetriednottothinkof what had justoccurred between themasshesawtohiswoundand re-dressed it, andneitherofthemspokeas

sheworked.But when she wasdoneandhadmadehimmore comfortable, hesaid,“Iwaitedforyoutoreturn to me afterdinner.Whydidyounotcomesooner?”She thought of herdiscouraging meetingwithMr.Phillips,andofthe equallydisheartening time shehad later spent poring

over theaccountbooks.But that was her ownproblem. Forcing asmile, she said, “Oh, Ibecame so engrossed ingoing over the accountsthatIdidnotnoticethetime.”Apparently her smiledid not fool him, for hefrowned and said, “Ihave not seen youlooking so blue-devilledbefore.Whatiswrong?”

“Nothing to concernyou,” she said with alightness she did notfeel. “It is simply thatthe numbers will nevercomeoutasIwishthemto.”Looking relieved, hesaid, “If that is all thatis bothering you, bringthebooksuptomeandI shall tally them foryou. In any event, it isno job fora female.”He

ignored her indignantgasp and, frowningagain, added, “AlthoughI do not see why yourMr.Phillipscouldnotdoit. Do you not trusthim?”“Why, of course I do.He has managed theestate since before myfather’s death. Andwhen I said thenumbers did not comeout as I wish, I did not

mean that I amincapable of addingthem up correctly. AsMr. Phillips explains it,the problem is simply asign of the times. Thecost of everything hasrisen out of allproportion to theamount of revenue anestate of this size canbringin.”She had not meant toreveal so much of her

financial situation tohim, but now that shethoughtof it,perhapsitwas just aswell. So farshe had done nothingabout her resolve to tryto reform him. Perhapsit would be a step inthat direction if she didallowhimtogoovertheaccounts and becomefamiliar with managingan estate. If he showedany aptitude for or

interest in it, shemightbeabletohelphimfindapositioninthatfield.Looking at herthoughtfully, he said,“Nevertheless, I shouldlike to see those books.It will be killing twobirds with one stone. Ican, perhaps, help youwhile relieving my ownboredom.”“Very well,” she saidlightly,“butnottonight,

foritisverylate.IshallhaveMelrosebringthemto you first thing in themorning.”From his look ofastonishment, it wasclear that he hadexpected moreresistancefromher,andshe left the room justbarely suppressing theurge to laugh. She wasstillsmilingashorttimelaterassheclimbedinto

bed. She was surprisedathowlight-heartedshefelt. Usually it took hermuchlongertothrowoffthe dismals brought onby her meetings withtheestatemanager.Shefellasleepwiththethoughtthat,atleastinsome ways, Jon’scompany seemed to begoodforher.

CHAPTERSIXJane was still feelingexceptionally carefreethe following morningwhen she camedownstairs. SeeingMelrose in thehall, shestopped to makearrangements to havetheaccountbookstakento Jon when next thebutler went up to carefor their patient’s more

intimateneeds.Without the least hintof the surprisehemusthave felt upon hearingsucha request,Melroseagreed with his usualaplomb, then followedhis mistress into thebreakfastroom.ButwhenJaneenteredthe room, shediscovered that Agatha,who was there beforeher,lookedasifasmall

black rain-cloud werehangingoverherhead.Taking her own placeatthetable,JanewaiteduntilMelrosehadservedher and left them alonebefore saying, “Goodheavens, Agatha, youlook as if you hadreceived some dreadfulnews. I do hope that isnotthecase.”Laying her napkin onthe table, Agatha

replied, “Oh,my dear, Ifear it is so. At least—butperhapsIamwrong.Ohdear,itissodifficulttoknowwhattothink.”“Why don’t you trytelling me about it?”saidJanecalmly.“Yes,” agreed Agatha.“Perhaps I had better.You see, Mr. Simpsoncamebythismorningtobring a chicken inpayment for your

treatment of thatinfected cut on hishand.”Mr. Simpson was oneof Jane’s tenants. Shesaid automatically, “Heneedn’thavedonethat.”Then her lips quiveredslightly as she added,“But I fail to see howthatcanbesuchterriblenews—unless the poorchicken is very old andstringy?’’

“No,no!Thatisnotthebadnews. It iswhathetold Cook when hebroughtthechicken.”“And what is that?”askedJane.Agatha sighed, thenlowered her voice anddeclared dramatically,“It is the highwayman.He has struck again,and this time muchcloser to home, for itwasthesquire’scarriage

hehelduplastnight.”“Oh, my,” Janemurmuredwithafrown.“SoclosetoDunby?”“Well, no. He stillseems to prefer theenvironsofLeeds.WhenI said that it hadhappened closer tohome,Imeantonlythatthistimethevictimwasone of our ownneighbours. I cannotsaywhatSirAlfredwas

doing, returning fromLeeds so late at night,but you know what heis.”Agathadidnotapproveof the squire, who wasone of the PrinceRegent’s ratherdecadentset.Jane ignored hercompanion’s commentand said, “How terriblefor the squire.” But herface had brightened

considerably, and shecontinued, “But, in away,itisgoodnews.”For a dreadfulmoment,shehadfearedthat Jon had somehowmanaged to leave thehouse last night to plyhis trade, but now sherealized that such athing was patentlyabsurd.Evenwereitnotfor his wound, whichwould make riding

extremelyuncomfortable, if notimpossible, he was fartooweaktohaveriddenallthewaytoLeeds.Certainly, if thehighwaymanhadstruckwhile Jon was safelyensconced here atMeadowbrook, theycould not be one andthe same person. Ofcourse, it was verywrong of him to have

deceivedherso,andshefully intended to havethat outwithhim.Still,it was a great relief toknow that he was not,afterall,acriminal.Agatha was looking ather as though she hadlosthersenses.“Don’t you see,Agatha?”Janeexplainedeagerly. “This provesthatJo—thatMr.Sebastcannot be the

highwayman.”Instead of lookingpleased, Agatha merelyshook her head sadlyand said with greatreluctance, “It provesthat he could not haverobbed the squire lastnight, but I fear that itdoes not prove hisinnocence in thematter.”“Whatonearthdoyoumean?”demandedJane.

“Of course it proves hisinnocence.”“Oh, my dear, I verymuch fear I have madea dreadful mistake,”said the older woman,shakingherheadagain.“And all because Iwished so much tobelieve—but that isneither here nor there.Thefactofthematteristhat I knew he had anaccomplice.”

“An accomplice! Willyouplease tellmewhatyou are talking about?”criedJane.Agatha explainedabout the message Jonhad asked her to sendto themanKearny,andas she did so, Jane feltthe heaviness ofdisappointment settleoverher.Shebitherlipassherecalledthatjustbefore entering his

chamber last night, shethought she had heardvoices. Subsequentevents had blotted thatfromhermind,butnowit seemed verysignificant,especiallyasshe had found himstanding at the openwindow.SilencefellasJanesat,frowning thoughtfully,toying with the food onherplate.

Agatha watched herworriedly, but afterseveral minutes, whenJane still had notspoken, she asked,“Whatshallwedo?”Jane straightened inher chair and saidfirmly, “Why,nothingatall. We shall go on asbefore.”She had quicklydecided that there wasno reason at all for her

spirits tobeso lowered.Nothing had reallychanged, except thatnow it was moreimportant than ever toget onwithher goal. Inpoint of fact, she wasevenmoredeterminedtotrytoturnJonfromhiswayward anddestructivepath.“But should we not atleast tell the squire ofoursuspicions?”Agatha

enquireddoubtfully.“Certainly not!Suspicionisallwehave,and that is not enoughtocondemnaman.Anditisnotasifwedidnotsuspect from thebeginning that Mr.Sebast was thehighwayman.” Jane didnotaddthatJonhad,infact, admitted as muchtoher.“Yes,”concededAgatha

with a puzzledexpression. “Butdo youknow, I had convincedmyself that we werewrongandthathewasagentleman.Idon’tknowhow my intuition couldhave led me so farastray. It has neverdonesobefore.”Agatha seemed moreoverset by the thoughtthat her intuition hadplayed her false than

she was by theconfirmation that Jonwas the highwayman,and Jane had to smile.“Well,ifitwillmakeyoufeel any better,” shesaid, “I am in perfectagreement with you. Ibelieve he is agentleman, or at leastwas bred to be one.Furthermore, I do notbelieve he is beyondbeingreformed.”

“Indeed it does makeme feel better,” saidAgatha after amoment.“If that is so, perhapsmy intuitionwasnotsowrong, after all. Still,ourfirstdutymustbetoget him well enough toleave here, which doesnot give youmuch timeto reform him. But youknowitwouldnotdotohave him here whenAlicearrives.”

Nor did it leave muchtime for her own hopesand plans to mature,she thought sadly, butperhapsthatwasjustaswell. As much as shelonged to see Janehappily married, shecould not suppose thata highwayman—even areformed one, with themannersofagentleman—would make anappropriate husband.

These reflections,however,Agathakepttoherself.“No,” said Jane, “but IdonotexpectAliceuntiltheendoftheweek,andin themeantime, Ihavealready begun mycampaign to turn ourhighwayman in anotherdirection.”“How?” asked Agathacuriously.Jane flushed slightly.

“Well, as he expressedaninterestindoingso,Iamallowinghimtolookovertheaccountbooks.”“Good heavens!” saidher companion,sounding gleeful andshocked at the sametime. “I would neverhave dreamed that you,of all people, would besovulgarastopermitanearstrangertobecomeprivy to your rather

straitenedcircumstances.”Jane’s flush deepened.“Youknowperfectlywellthat I would notordinarily do so, but Ibelieve that, in thiscase, such a breach ofgood taste may bejustified by the result.Do you not see? If Mr.Sebast shows someaptitude for estatemanagement, perhaps...

perhaps the vicar mayknow of someone whomay hire him in thatcapacity.”At that moment thediscussion was broughtto an abrupt end asboth women becameaware of some sort ofcommotion in the entryhall.Theystaredateachother in dismay as ayoung female voice washeard over the rest of

thehubbub.Fearing the worst,Janerosefromthetableand left the breakfastroom.In the entry hall,Melrose was staringdumblyatahugepileofbaggageasifhedidnotunderstandwhat itwasorhow ithadgot there.He looked up, clearlyappalled,asmoreofthestuff was carried in by

twoliveriedfootmen.In the midst of thismountain of luggagestood an extremelypretty girl with blondcurlsframingherheart-shaped face, anddressedinafashionablesprigged muslin gown.She was removing hergloves as she directedthe footmen to set thevarious pieces downwherevertheycouldfind

room. Then, catchingsight of Jane, she liftedher skirts immodestlyhigh, climbed over thepile of bags, bandboxesandtrunks,andhurriedtowardsherhostess.“Oh, Miss Lockwood!Themost exciting thinghas happened. Papawas actually robbed bythe highwayman lastnight! Can you believeit?Oh,howIwishIhad

beenthere.”“Yes, I am sure itwould have been mostdiverting for you,” saidJane dryly, hiding herdismay at this turn ofevents. “But, my dearAlice, I was notexpecting you quite sosoon.”“Oh, well. Papa knewthat you would notmindinthe least,”Alicereplied airily. “And you

must know howdreadfully overset hewas by his encounterwiththatdevilishrogue.Hedecidedthathemustspend a few days inBrighton to calm hisnervesbeforesettingoutfortheContinent.”Not wishing to begintheir relationship bycriticizing the girl, Janehad said nothing aboutthe unladylike way in

whichAlicehadclimbedover her baggage. Butshe really could not letthis pass. “My dear,”shesaidquietly,sothatnone of the servantswouldhear,“oneshouldalways start out as onemeans to go on, andthatbeingthecase,itismydutytotellyouthatyoumust not use suchterms as ‘devilishrogue.’“

Alice’s lovely blue eyeswidened innocently.“But that is what Papacallsthehighwayman.”Jane refrained fromsaying that the squireshould not be usingsuch language in hisdaughter’s presence.But since it was not,thankheaven, a part ofher job to try tochangethe father’s ways, sheonly said, “That may

very well be. But menarefreetosayanddoagreat many thingswhich are not at allproperforalady.”Aliceputherhandsonher hips and saidindignantly, “Well, it allseems very silly to me,andnotatallfair.”Jane had difficultysuppressing a smile asshesuddenlythoughtofhowJonwouldlaughat

thatwhenshetoldhim.Yes, and most likelyagree wholeheartedly.But before she couldanswer, another girl,scarcely older thanAlice,enteredthehouse.Fromhermodeofdress,and demeanor, it wasnot difficult to guessthat this was Alice’sabigail.Jane regarded thenewcomer with a

mixture of relief andchagrin: relief, becauseshe knew that if ElsiewereforcedtowaituponAlice, she would nodoubt leave in a huffbefore the daywas out;chagrin because everyadditionalperson in thehouse made it moredifficult to keep Jon’spresenceasecret.Doingherbesttoforcethat worry from her

mind, she spent muchof the morning gettingAlice settled in, whichwas no easy chore. Theamount of baggage thegirl had brought withhermadeitnecessarytoprepare a largerchamber than hadoriginally been plannedfor her use. And withonly Elsie to help her,since Agatha was keptoccupied in trying to

entertain Alice, Janewas obliged to do mostofthework.In addition, she wascalledouttotendoneofher tenants for astomach complaintwhich proved to be nomore than a touch ofdyspepsia, easilyrelieved. Theperformance of thissmall service took upthe remainder of the

morning.By noon, Jane wasexhausted and longingto escapeher seeminglyendlesstaskstoseehowJon fared. With thatobject in mind,immediately after theirnuncheon, she set herreluctant young chargeto reading a bookentitledCorrect Conductand Manners for Young

Females. Only then didshefeelitsafetolookinonherpatient.Slipping through thedoor of his chamber afew minutes later andclosingitquicklybehindher, she feltdistressingly like asneak-thief.ButJonseemednottonoticeherfurtivenessasbe looked up and said,“Where the devil have

you been? I wished todiscuss these....” Hestopped, and a slowsmile spread over hisfacebeforehebrokeintolaughter. “Good God,woman! What hashappened to you? Youlookas if youhadbeendragged through thebrushbackwards.”Jane’s hands flew toher hair. Sure enough,her cap was missing,

and most of her hairseemed to have comeloosefromitsusualneatarrangement.She spentonlyamomentintryingto smooth it, however,deciding that ashehadalready seen her likethis,itwastoolatetodoanything about it.Instead, she sank downwearilyontothebedsidechair and began to tellhimaboutAliceandher

agreement with thesquire to take hisdaughter into her homefor a short time, and tocoach that rather livelyyoung lady in how toconduct herself inSociety.When she reached thepoint in her storyconcerning Alice’sunexpected arrival, shediscovered thatshehadbeen perfectly right. He

did laugh, and heagreedwithAlice’sviewson the unfairness ofpropriety. Amazingly,Jane found herselflaughing with him. Forhe had also listened toher tale with interestand sympathized withher plight when sheexpressed doubts overtheenormityofthetaskbeforeher.Inanyevent,she felt immensely

better after she hadunburdenedherself.He reached out totouch her hand whenshe was done. “Poorhoney,” he said, andJane nearly melted atthe endearment as wellasathistouch.Despising herself forblushing again, shelooked away. “Yes, well,I suppose I have onlymyselftoblame.”

“I’llnotarguewithyouthere,” he teased. “Butwhat have you donewith the chit? Lockedherinherchamber?”Janecouldnotpreventanother laugh at that.“Don’tthinkIwouldnotlove to,” she retorted.“But no. I have herreadingaveryimprovingbookondeportment.”“GoodGod!Ifyouhavemanaged to command

such docility from heralready, Idon’t see thatyou should have anyproblemwithheratall.”Lookingvery sheepish,Jane said, “I fear Ineither managed norcommanded hercompliance. In fact, Ibribedher.”He burst into laughteragain.“Oh,Jane,Ihavenotenjoyedanythingso

much in a very longtime.But youmust notleave me in suspense.You must tell me howyoubribedher.”Reluctantly sheadmitted, “I told herthat if she was verygood for the next fewdays, we would have apicniconSaturday,andperhaps go on ashopping expedition to

LeedsonMonday.”An exaggerated lookofthoughtfulnessappeared on his face,then, after a pause hesaidquitejudiciously,“Ibelievethatyouhavehitupon theonlymeansofhandling the girl. Infact, you have madeonly onemistake that Icansee.”Janeknewthathewasteasingher,butshewas

enjoying the game toomuchnottoplayalong.“And what, pray tell, isthat?”“Really, my dear,” hetold her with a broadgrin, “you must be atrifle less freewithyourbribes. You must offerheronlyoneatatime.”“I shall try toremember that infuture,” she saidwith atouch of irony. Then,

noticing the accountbooks spread outaroundhimonthebed,she added, “I see youhave been keepingyourselfbusy.”Aslightfrownfurrowedhis brow. “Yes, but Ishouldliketokeepthemawhile longer, if I may.Everything seems to beinorder,andyet—Howlong did you say thisPhillips has been with

you?”“Well,Fatherhiredhimshortlybeforehisdeath,andthatwasfouryearsago.’’“Hmm,”hesaid,givingnocluetohisthoughts.But after amoment, hecommented, “I noticethat thesebooksare allof recent date. It wouldbehelpful if I could seesome of the recordsfrom before Phillips’s

time. Would that bepossible? It would givemeabetteroverall viewofthings.”His continued interestsounded quite hopefulto her, and she said,“Verywell.Andperhapsyouwould like tospeakwithPhillips, too?He isvery knowledgeableabout estatemanagement.”“Why, yes,” he agreed

with an oddly grimsmile. “Very likely Ishall, but not for a fewdaysyet,Ithink.Ipreferto learna littlemoreonmyownfirst.”Jane nodded vaguely,forhismentionofa fewmore days hadreminded her of herbiggestdilemma:howtokeep his continuedpresencehereasecret.Throughout the day,

she had been worryingat the problem in theback of her mind. Thewisest course would beto spirit him out of thehouse tonight, afterAlice was abed. Butwhere could she sendhimwhere hewould besafe? And even if shecould findananswer tothat question, once hewas gone it was veryprobablethatshewould

neverseehimagain.She tried to ignore thefeeling of desolationbrought on by thatthought andconcentrated insteadonthe fact that her plansto reform him wouldthencometonaught.Ofcourse that was themain reason for herreluctance to see himgo. That, and thequestionofhissafety.

She had stood andbegun to wander aboutthe room as theseconsiderations ranthrough her mind. Nowshefoundherselfbesidethe window, gazingdown at the floor. Sopreoccupied was shethat it was a momentbeforesherealizedwhatshewasseeing.Pebbles.There was a scattering

ofpebblesonthefloor.At first she felt onlyirritation with Elsie forhaving failed to cleanthe chamber today, butthen she rememberedthat themaidhadbeenotherwise occupied.Almost simultaneously,thesignificanceofthosepebbles struckher.Sheunderstoodatoncehowthey came to be there.Obviously someone had

thrown them at thewindow to attract Jon’sattention. They wereadded proof that Jondid, indeed, have anaccomplice, one withwhom he had been incontactlastnight.A glance towards thebed told her that Jonwasstudyingoneof theaccountbooksagain,soshe quickly knelt,gathered the pebbles,

and shoved them intoherpocketasshestoodagain.Then,notwishingto discuss the questionofhisguiltinthematterof the highwayman’smost recent escapade,she walked to the bedand said, “I must leaveyou now. I am afraidthat even bribery willnot keep Alice long atthatbook.”He looked up at her,

and she saw completeunderstanding in hiseyes. “And you areafraidthatshewillcomelooking for you anddiscover that you areharbouringacriminalinyourhouse.”She smiled, hoping hecouldnotseehowforcedit was. “Well, you mustadmit that it wouldcreate quite a scandal,andyouknowthatIam

not nearly so braveabout such things asyou.”The look of concerndeepened in his eyes,and he said, “Jane,thingsarenotalwaysasthey seem. I fear Ihavemisled you concerningcertain facts, but I canexplain, I hope, if youwillallowme.”“No, no!” she insisted.“There is no need. I

understand perfectly,but in any event, thereis no time now. I reallymustgo.”“Very well,” heconceded, soundingalmost relieved. “But Ishall hope to see youlater, after that youngminx has been put tobed. In the meantime,my dear, try not toworryso.Everythingwillcome out right, I

promiseyou.”Jane left his chamberwishing with all herheart that she could beascertainofthatashe.

CHAPTERSEVENOh, what a tangledweb we weave, thoughtJon after Jane had lefthis chamber. He wasnotsure ifhewereglador sorry that she hadprevented hisconfession. On thewhole, he decided, hewas relieved. He couldnot imagine that itwould easehermind to

knowthatshehadbeenharbouring a notoriousrake rather than ahighwayman. Still, heknewthattheinevitablehad merely beenpostponed.Inanyevent,hehadagreat deal else withwhich to occupy hismindjustnow.He glanced at theaccount books, strewnround him on the bed,

andhisfrowndeepened.He had guessed, beforeever looking at them,that Jane was living infairly straitenedcircumstances. For onething, there was therather shabby-genteelnature of thefurnishings in hischamber. It was clearthatnorefurbishinghadbeendoneinaverylongtime. Then, too, from

the very first, it hadbeen Melrose who hadtaken on the chore ofseeing to Jon’s morepersonal needs, ratherthan some lesserservant such as afootman.At first the butler hadremainedcoolandaloof,adroitlyfendingoffallofhis charge’s efforts todraw information fromhim. But gradually the

manhadbeenwonover,and had begun talkingmore easily with Jon,finally admitting thatMiss Lockwoodemployednofootmen.In fact, it wasMelrosewho had given Jon hisfirst clue that all wasnotasitshouldbehereat Meadowbrook.Although the man wasquick to defend his

mistress, laying theblame,asshehaddone,on the present hardtimes, he had spokenregretfully ofhowmucheverything had changedfor the worse since thelatemaster’sdeath.Jon lifted one of theaccount books, absent-mindedly testing itsweight, as if thatmightgivehimtheanswershesought, then laid it

downagain.Itwastruethat,onthesurface,alltheaccountsappearedtobeinorder.It was also true thattimes were difficult andMeadowbrook was asmallestate.Althoughitwas unlikely that itwould generate a vastamountofwealthforitsowner, it shouldcertainlybedoingbetterthanitwas.

If his suspicions werecorrect, Phillips wascheatingJaneandlininghis own pockets byskimming off some ofthe profits from theestate. A clever manbent on thievery wouldhave no difficulty indoctoring the accounts.Nor would it be anygreat feat to fool atrustingfemalewhowasunfamiliar with estate

management. But itwouldtaketimetoproveallthis,anditappeared,now, that he would nothavethattime.The advent of AliceBrant made itimperative that hischarade be ended andthat he leaveMeadowbrook withoutfurther delay.With thatyoung chit here, heknew it would be

impossible to keep hispresenceinthishouseasecret.Neither would he beabletocontinuetokeephisarrivalinthedistrictquiet,herealizedgrimly.He could not remainincognito forever,however, and perhapshis fears that LydiaCathcartwoulddiscoverhis whereabouts andfollow him to Yorkshire

weregroundless. Inanyevent, thatwas anothermatter entirely, to befaced if and when itbecamenecessary.For now, he mustdecide how best toremove himself fromJane’s home. But firstbemust reveal his trueidentity to her. Hisdilemma was, how thedevil was he going toaccomplish both

objectiveswithoutlosingJane’s friendship andgoodwill? And—equallyimportant—doitwithoutdamaging herreputation beyondrepair?Until now, he had notworried about thataspect of the situation.Melrose had discreetlylet it be known thateveryone atMeadowbrook would

sooner have theirtongues cut out thanspeak of anything thatmight hurt Miss Jane’sgood name. But hecould not depend uponsuch loyalty from Aliceorhermaid.Damnation! When hehadbegun this gameofplayinghighwayman,hehad not meant it to goon for so long. But,aside from the

entertainment it hadafforded him, it hadbecome more and moredifficult to extricatehimself. It was notwithout irony that herealizedthemainreasonfor this. For the firsttime in many years, hecared about anotherperson’sopinionofhim.His thoughtscontinued in this veinfor some time. After

studying the problemfrom all angles, Jonfinally reached anunavoidable conclusion.If he knew anything ofthe world, neither henor Janewould be abletoconcealthisfiasco,nomatter what he did.Evenifheweretosneakoutinthedeadofnight,which he was unwillingto do, sooner or latersomeone was bound to

discover the truth.And,thatbeingso,perhapsitwouldbebesttohandlethe matter boldly,relying on Jane’sconsequence and herreputationasahealertoseethemthrough.Havingdecideduponacourseofaction,Jonlayback to await Melrose’susual mid-afternoonvisit. As he did so, histhoughts returned to

LydiaCathcart.Were he not so averseto becoming a tenant-for-life, marriage to herwould ensure hisacceptance by even thehighest sticklers of theton. But he could notconceive of spending alifetimewithLydia.Ifhewere ever to wed at all,he would prefersomeone like Jane. Forone thing, she was a

great deal moreamusingandinterestingthan Lydia. Moreover,she was a kind andcaring woman. And,while Lydia was adiamond of the firstwater, Jane—well, hesuddenly realized hefound her looksinfinitelymoreappealingthanLydia’sperfection.However, he toldhimself with a sudden

frown, all this waswasted conjecture sincehe had no intention ofmarryinganyone.Melrose arrived justthen and listened toJon’s requests withoutturning a hair. He evenenteredintothespiritofthethingbymakingoneor two modestsuggestions of his own.When next he enteredtheroom,shortlybefore

the dinner hour, hecarried one of his latemaster’s canes and afresh roll of lint, inaddition to therequested articles ofclothing. His only showof surprise came whenhe heard the messagehewas to deliver to hismistress. His eyeswidened slightly uponbeinggiventhenamehewas to use when

relayingthatmessage.****

Jane,AgathaandAlicewere gathered in thedrawing-room, whereJanehadbeentryingtoteach Alice the art ofpre-dinnerconversation.But she had found itrather heavy going,since the girl could notseem to grasp the factthat it was impolite topush herself forward

and dominate everydiscussion. WhenMelrose entered theroom, Jane rose fromher chair with alacrity,expecting him toannounce that dinnerwasreadytobeserved.But what he said,without so much as ablink, was “Miss Jane,LordSt.Clairhasaskedme to inform you thathewillbejoiningyoufor

dinnertonight.’’To say that Jane wasshocked would havebeen the grossestunderstatement. Shewas struck speechlessand her mind wasthrown into confusion.All she could thinkwasSt. Clair? What inheaven’s namewas Jonuptonow?Fortunately Agatha

stepped into the breachafterscarcelyamomentof stunned silence. Shesaid,“Oh,St.Clair!Butdo you think that iswise,Jane?”“What?” said Janeblankly.Agatha frowned, andwithatinymovementofher head, indicatedAlice,whowas listeningwith avid interest. Shesaidbrightly, “Well, you

know how ill the poorman has been. I wasjust wondering if itwouldbewiseforhimtomake such an effortwhenhe isnotyet fullyrecovered.”Before Jane couldanswer, Alice cried, “St.Clair? Viscount St.Clair?”Ignoring her, Janeturned to the butler,saying, “Please inform

his lordship that Ishould not dream ofhaving him go to suchtrouble when he is stillsounwell.”“I fear, miss,” saidMelrosewithonlyahintof regret, “that Lord St.Clair was quiteinsistent.”“Oh,” crowed Alice,withunbecomingglee,“Icannot wait to tell myfriendClarissa!Shewill

be positively green withenvy when she hearsthat Ihaveactuallymethim.”While Jane fought tohideherdismay,Agathaagain came to herrescue. She turned toAlice and said sharply,“Sit down, child, andtry, if you can, tobehave like a lady, oryou shall be sent toyour room and never

meet him.” Then,turning back to thebutler,shesaid, “Pleasetell Lord St. Clair thatwe shall, of course,welcomehiscompany.”AsMelrose bowed andleft the room,Alicesaida trifle sullenly, “Well, Iwas only curious, and Idon’t see how you canblame me for that! IhavebeenhearingaboutSt.Clair forever,butno

onehaseverheard thatyouareonsuchfriendlytermswithhim.’’Not even herself, Janethought ruefully. Bynow, however, she hadcollected herself, andshe replied, with whatshetrustedwasjusttheright touch ofamusementinhervoice,“I am afraid that it isnot the sort ofconnection one feels

inclined to broadcast.And in truth, I am notall that well acquaintedwith him. His presencehere cameabout as theresultofanunfortunateaccident.”“Indeed,” agreedAgatha cheerfully. “Norcan you be blamed fortaking him in when hewas so dreadfullyinjured. Besides, I donot believe above half

the stories which aretoldofhim.Andwehavefound him to be aperfect gentleman, havewenot,Jane?”Despite a strong urgeto strangle hercompanion, Janemanagedtosmilethinlyandnodheragreement,but her thoughts werenotatallagreeable.Shewas thinking thatbetweenJonandAgatha

shewasbecomingmoreand more embroiled inthis ridiculousdeception.Andtheredidnot seem to be a thingshecoulddoaboutit.Devil take the two ofthem, she suddenlythought.Shewasalittleshocked at how easilythe words had poppedinto her head. Beforemeeting Jon, shewould

never have dreamed ofusing such anexpression—atleast,notoften. Still, she had toadmit that it was amuch more satisfyingway of expressing one’struefeelingsthananyofthe pallid exclamationsconsidered suitable forfemales.But for the life of her,she could not thinkwhat Jon was about.

Only for the briefestmoment did sheentertainthenotionthathemight, indeed,beSt.Clair.The idea was tooabsurd. No, this wasmerely a smoke screenwhichJonhadraisedtohide the fact that shehad been harbouring ahighwayman. Itwarmedher heart to think thathe should be trying to

shieldher,butofallthenames he might havechosen, that one wastheworst.She knew that Alicewas positively burningwith curiosity, anddreadedhavingtodeviseanswers to anymore ofthegirl’squestions.Shewas given a temporaryreprieve, however, forjust then Jon entered

the drawing-room,escorted by Melrose.And all theconsternation she hadbeen feeling was sweptaside... at least for themoment.He was using one ofher father’s canes andwas attired in theclothing he had beenwearing when he wasshot.Hisgarmentshad,ofcourse,beencleaned,

pressed, and patched,andhelookedincrediblyhandsome.For a moment, thatpart of her which wasinterested in all thingsof a medical naturewondered how he hadmanaged to get intothose tight breeches.She decided that hemust have re-dressedhis wound with a lessbulky bandage, before

she banished suchinappropriatespeculation.Whileheapologizedforhis unsuitable attire—for he was, after all,wearing riding clothes—Jane simply stared athim.Shesuddenlyknewthat shewouldwillinglytell any number of lies,enter into any numberof deceptions, in orderto protect him. And,

along with thatknowledge cameanother, even morestunning revelation.Dear God, she wasfalling in love with thisimpossible man... herhighwayman, who wasjust as forbidden toheras the real St. Claircouldeverbe.Despite her willing, ifrather imprudent,resolve to sanction

whatever fabrication hemight be weaving, Janetook little part in thedinner-tableconversation. For onething, she was stillsomewhat dazed fromthe realization of herfeelings for Jon. But,aside from that, shethought it safer to sayaslittleaspossible.Shecould scarcely wait,however, to be alone

with him, to discoverjust what demon hadcaused him toappropriate St. Clair’sidentity.Although she was onedge the whole of thetime, expecting disastertostrikeatanyminute,everythingactuallywentmuch better than shehad feared. Of courseAlice began bydisplaying a vulgar

curiosity, bombardingJon with all manner ofquestions.But,foronce,Jane felt no urge torestrain thegirl, forshewas as anxious to heartheanswersasAlice.During the course ofthenexttwohours,theylearned that “St. Clair”hadcomeintoYorkshireto look over hisinheritance and hadbecome incapacitated

due to an injury. Sincehe had found EthridgeHall to beuninhabitable, he hadbeen kindly taken inand cared for by MissJane and her lovelycompanion, MissWedmore.At the end of hisexplanation,hegazedatJane innocently andsaid, “Actually, MissJane, I have been

studyingthematterandI believe we may bedistantly relatedthrough my mother. Soperhaps I should callyoucousin.”Jane nearly chokedbeforeutteringadenial.“I think that veryunlikely,” she managedin a rather strangledvoice.“No, no. I am almostcertain I recall Mama

mentioning someLockwoodsinherfamilytree.”Naturally, Agathathrew herselfenthusiastically intothisnewpiece of fictionand engaged in adetailed discussion ofgenealogywithSt.Clair.Inspiteofherself,Janewas moved to agrudging admiration fortheman’sinventiveness.

But in truth, except forthe identity he hadchosen and hisoutrageous claim tokinship, his story wasfactual and could nothave sounded moreinnocentorrespectable.He also entertainedthem with accounts ofhis more amusingexperiences in America,thereby diverting Aliceandpreventingherfrom

asking too manyimpertinentquestions.Bytheendofthemeal,however, Jane’s moodhadchangedagain.Shewas feelingunreasonably irritableand oddly resentful, forheseemed toknow justhow to handle the girl,treating her by turnswith amused toleranceand flatteringadmiration, bordering

ontheflirtatious.Itwasbecoming increasinglyapparent that Alicewasnot only thoroughlyintrigued by him, butwas well on the way toforming a tendre forhim.Greatheavens!thoughtJane. The man couldcharm a stone if he sethismind to it. In truth,she feared that her

highwayman was everybit as rakish as thenotorious character hewaspretendingtobe.It was almost withrelief that she watchedhim take his leave ofthem immediately afterdinner,usingtheexcuseof his recent injury forhis early retirement.Despite her confusedfeelings, including avery natural

exasperation with him,she had, as always,enjoyed his company.But she did not thinkshecouldbearwatchingAlice become more andmoreenamouredofhimthroughout an entireevening.Itwouldnotbeatallwisetoallowsuchan infatuation todevelop. That wasanother subject aboutwhich she must speak

withhim.As he climbed thestairs,however,shesawthat he was leaningmore heavily upon thecane than he had beenearlier. She realizedwhatanordeal thepasttwo hours must havebeen for him. It hadbeen little more thanthreedayssincehehadbeen shot, and sheknew that hemust still

be dreadfully weak.And,shethoughtwithaworried frown, hiswound must still begiving him a great dealof discomfort, if notoutright pain. But evenin the midst of herconcern, shewasawareof a warm glow at thethoughtthathehadputforth such effort on herbehalf.And then, as he

disappeared up thestairs, anotherrealization struck her.Three days... only threedays since he had beenwounded, only threedayssinceshehad firstset eyes on him. Howwas it possible to loseone’s heart to a man—especially one sounsuitable— in such ashorttime?

Somehow she gotthrough the seeminglyendless evening. But,thrown off kilter by somany unaccustomedemotions,shecouldnotafterwards have saidhow the time passed.Pass it did, however,and when at last shemade her way to Jon’schamber, she hadreached severalunpalatable but

necessaryconclusions.Asdistastefulasitwasto admit it, she wasbehavingnobetter thanAlice where Jon wasconcerned. Worse, infact, for one mightexpect an inexperiencedgirl to be vulnerable tothe charmsof aworldlyandattractivemale.ButJane should have hadmore sense than to fallvictim to infatuation;

for, of course, that wasallitwas.Thankheavenshehadrealized that and cometo her senses in time.She shuddered to thinkwhatafigureoffunshemight have made ofherselfotherwise.She was not so naiveas to think that simplyby recognizing the truenature of her feelings,she could instantly

overcome them. Butinfatuation was morecurable than love, andnowthatsheknewwhatailed her, she would beon her guard. She didnotexpectthat itwouldbe easy to resist him,but she knew that shemust,andshewould.It was with this firmresolution in mind thatshe entered hischamber.

He was sitting up,propped against thepillows,andhewatchedher warily as shecrossedtheroom.Her hands claspedtogether in front of herto hide their suddentrembling, she said,with an attempt athumour, “Well, Iscarcely know what tocall you now—Jon, Mr.Sebast,orSt.Clair.”

“Jonwilldonicely,”heanswered cautiously.“Or St. Clair, if youprefer.”She shook her headslightly, saying, “Beforewebroachthesubjectofnames, I should like tosay that Idoappreciatewhat you did thisevening. I know howdifficult it must havebeen,andthatyoudiditformysake.”

She was thankful thather voice soundedquitecalm and normal. Thewary expressiondisappeared from hisface, replaced by one ofhis heart-stoppingsmiles.He shrugged slightlyand said modestly, “Itwasnothing.”“Yes,butwhatIshouldlike to know,” shedemanded, no longer

soundingquitesocalm,“is why, of all things,you chose to use StClair’sname!”Withonehandpressedto her brow, she hadturned away from him,and so did not see hislookofastonishment.Without waiting forhim to speak, shecontinued. “Oh, I ampersuaded that it ismerely a most

unfortunatecoincidence. Havingbeen out of the countryso much of the time,you cannot know theconnotation attached tothat name. But, Jon,”she said earnestly,turning towards him,“truly, you could nothave hit upon a worseidentitytoassume.”Inheragitationshesatdownontheedgeofthe

bedandtookhishand.His fingers—long,blunt-tipped, andutterly masculine—closed round hers as atroubled frown creasedhisbrow.Seeing it, she had analmost irresistible urgeto reach out with herfree hand to smooth itaway. Then, just assuddenly, she becameaware of what she was

doing,andshemovedtopull her hand from hisand stand. She waspreventedfromdoingsowhen his handtightened round hers,holding her where shewas, and, after amoment, she gave upthestruggle.He rubbed his thumbback and forth alongoneofher fingersashesaid softly, “Jane, I

hardly know what tosay. I thought youunderstood.”“Oh,Ido!”sheassuredhim.Hegaveasmallhuffoflaughter and shook hishead ruefully. “No, youdo not,” he told her.Then he paused beforeadding, “Jane, I am StClair.”She staredathimand

the colour slowlydrained from her face.“But...but...you are thehighwayman.”“No.”As completeunderstanding finallycame to her, shestiffened, and before hecould again prevent it,she jerked her handfree, stood, and backedaway from the bed. Allshe could think was

that, for the whole ofthis time, he had beenplayingherforafool.Shewasmortified,butmorethanthat,shewasangry. She said coldly,“Then you lied to mefrom the verybeginning.”“Not exactly,” hedefended himself. “Youassumed I was thehighwayman, and Isimply failed to correct

you. I know it waswrongofme,but—”“You told me yourname was Sebast,” sheaccused.“I was attempting totellyouthatmynameisSebastian St. Clairwhen that damnedwhiskyspilled.”“Then Jon is no moreyour real name thanSebastis”He sighed. “My full

name is Jon EdwardSebastian Manning,ViscountSt.Clair.WhileI seldom use it, Jon isoneofmynames.”She stared at him amoment longer beforesaying in anuncompromisingtone,“Isee little differencebetween omitting thetruthandlying.”With that, she whirled

round and left hischamber, ignoring theplea in his voice as hecalledafterher.

CHAPTEREIGHTDuring the long hoursbefore Jane fell asleepthatnight,sheadmittedsome truths andreached some decisionsregarding herself andJon.Tobeginwith,shewasforced to concede thather angermight be duemore to the manner inwhich the truth had

come out than to hisdeception. Her feelingswereatriflehurtthathehad not told her inprivate first.... Well, inpointoffact,theywereagreatdealhurt,butshecoulddealwiththat.Moreover, in allfairness, she had toadmit thatmuch of thetanglehadresultedfromher own assumptionsrather than from any

outright lie on his part.Ofcourse,heshouldnothave allowed her tocontinue in hermisconceptions. Thatwas certainly wrong ofhim, but she thoughtshe knew him wellenough by now tounderstandwhyhehaddoneit.He had been in pain,and bored, which wasonly natural, and she

hadpresentedhimwiththe perfect opportunityto amuse and diverthimself. In addition, hewas something of atease, but how couldshe fault him for thatwhen she had sofrequently derived asmuch enjoyment fromhisteasingashe?Then,too,hemighthaveseenthis farrago as a ratherharmless means of

taking revenge againstthose who had causedhis misfortune. Onecould scarcely blamehim for that, if it wereso.All of which broughther to the question ofwhat would havehappened had sheknown from the startthat he was St. Clair.Would she still havetaken him into her

homeandcaredforhimherself?She thought not.Mostlikely she would havetaken him to Dunby,despitethedistanceandthe increased risk tohimself. She doubtedthat she would havebeen so bold had sheknownwhohewas.Butthat was a very oddthing: why should shehave been more willing

to bring a suspectedhighwayman into herhome than St. Clair? Ittook her severalmoments to puzzle thatout, but finally shedecided that, althoughstrongly attracted tohimfromthebeginning,she had thought herheart safe from such aman.Butshehadheard toomanytalesofSt.Clair’s

legendary way withfemales not to haveknown the danger oftaking him in. Yet shecouldnotreallybesorrythat she had. She wasforced to concede thatbeforehehadcomeintoher life, it had been agreat deal more dullthan she had everrealized.She sighed as sheacknowledged another

truth—the mostimportant one of all. Asmuch as she dislikedowning to it, she knewthat what she felt forJon was not justinfatuation. She lovedhim,buthedidnotloveher.How could he? Hislooksweresuchthathecouldattractanyfemalehemightwishfor,whileherswerequiteordinary

at best. He was in hisprime,whileshewasfarpast hers. He wasworldly andsophisticated, while shehad spent nearly thewholeofher lifehere inYorkshire. He was arake, while she was apattern card ofpropriety.No. They werecompletely unsuited.But, thinking over the

past few days, she didbelievethat,thoughshecouldneverhopeforhislove, he had, at least,developed some likingfor her, and he mightthinkofherasafriend.That was a palesubstituteforlove,butifit was all she couldhave, it would have tosatisfy her. And for thesake of retaining hisfriendship, she would

not send him away,even though she knewsheoughttodoso.There would certainlybesomegossip,but thefacts of the case,coupled with her ownconsequence, should beenough to protect herreputation.Inanyevent,it was too late to worryabout that now. Therewould be talk whetherheremainedhereornot,

so he might as wellremain.Nevertheless, in ordertoguardherheart fromfurther damage, shedetermined to keepmore distance betweenthem. But in this lastdeliberation she hadreckoned without Jon,and without her ownfoolishheart.

****Jane,AgathaandAlice

werealreadyatthetablethe following morningwhen he entered thebreakfast room. Hemade his way to avacantchairandgreetedAgatha and Alicecheerfully. Then,passing behind Jane’schair, and before shecould guess what heintended, he leanedaround her and kissedher cheek, murmuring,

“Good morning, sweetcousin.”While Jane blushedfuriously, he continuedon his way as thoughnothing out of theordinaryhadoccurred.Alice, who had beentold only momentsbefore that she mustspend the day learningproper deportment, hadbeen toying with herfood apathetically, her

face a study inresentment. But at St.Clair’s appearance, shebrightenedconsiderably.“Good morning, St.Clair,”shesangout.Janefrownedandsaid,more sharply than sheintended, “The properformofaddress,Alice,isLordSt.Clair.”Resentment, nowcoupled with rebellion,returned to the girl’s

face. “That’s silly! Noone uses a man’s fulltitle. And I have neverheardhimreferredtoasanythingbutSt.Clair.”Gentling her voice,Jane replied,“Nevertheless, there aretimes when it isappropriate to use thefull title. In any case,youareveryyoung,andas your elder, hislordship deserves to be

shown the properrespect.”Angrily, Alice threwdown her napkin andleapt to her feet. “Oh!Proper!Proper!Proper!Iam sick of hearing thatword! I wish Papa hadnever sent me here. Ithought staying withyou would bemore funthan staying with myAunt Bassett, but itisn’t! You are just like

her old-maid daughter,my cousin Josephine,who is nothing but adried-upoldstick!”Horrified, Janewatched the girl runfrom the room. Shedropped her face intoher hands andmuttered, “You wereright, Agatha. I shouldneverhaveagreed todothis.”“Perhaps it is time to

offerheranotherbribe,”interposed St. Clair inan obvious attempt tolightentheatmosphere.He received a ratherweak smile from Janeforhiseffort.“Fiddle!” said Agathastoutly. “The chit is aspoiled brat, and whatwe have just witnessedis nothing more than atemper tantrum. Shewillgetoverit.”

“Yes, but it is obviousthat Ihavenonotionofhow to go on with her.PerhapsIshouldsendamessage to Brighton,tellingthesquirethathemust make otherarrangementsforAlice.”“If I know anything ofSir Alfred,” said St.Clair, “it is too late forthat. He will simplyignore themessage andgoonhismerryway.”

“Humph,”saidAgatha.“No truer words wereever spoken. The mandoes not know themeaning ofresponsibility.”“You are probablyright,”saidJane,gazingdownatherplate.Frowning, St. Clairsaidbracingly,“MydearJane, I thought youwere made of sternerstuff. You may have

begunonthewrongfootwith the girl, but it isnot too late to startanew. If I may offer asuggestion ... butperhaps I am meddlingwhereIamnotwanted.”“Oh, no,” Janemurmured somewhatdistractedly. “I shouldbe grateful for anyadvice.”“Well then, I doubtthat anyone could

succeedinturningAliceinto a proper youngmiss, and tomyway ofthinking,nooneshouldtry. There is nothing soboring as an insipid—but that is anothermatter.“Inanyevent,sinceallyou can hope for is toteach her the basics ofgood breeding, perhapsyou should concentrateonly on those things

which are of greatestimportance. Ialsothinkyou might do better toteach her by examplethanbycriticism.”“Yes, that makessense,” said Janequietly, her eyesdowncast.“Thankyou.”St. Clair sent a swift,worried glance inAgatha’s direction, butshe merely shrugged.Turning back to Jane,

he said in a teasingvoice,“Anddonotforgetthebribes.”In truth, Jane hadbarely been followingthe conversation, forAlice’s words keptrepeating themselvesover and over again inher mind. Now,however, she suddenlyrealizedhowself-pityingshemusthavesounded.Forcing a smile, she

retorted, “Oh, no. Whata dreadful mistake thatwould be. I ampersuaded, in fact, thatit is the best advice ofall.”“That is much better,”said St. Clair. “I knewyouhadpluck.But,mydear girl, was it reallynecessary to make mesoundquitesodecrepit?I realize the chit is very

young, but she is ofmarriageable age, and Iam only three-and-thirty.”Jane threw him astartledglanceandsaid,“No,youarenotquiteinyour dotage.” Then,standing abruptly, sheadded, “But enough ofthisnonsense.Youmaybe a gentleman ofleisure, but I have agreat deal of work

awaitingme.”The other two arosefrom the table, andAgatha said, “I shall gocheck on Elsie or shewill waste the morningday-dreaming whiledusting one piece offurniture.” With that,she hurried from theroom.As Jane and St. Clairmovedtowardsthedoor,she said, “I hope you

don’t mean to overtaxyourself, Jon. You arenot yet fully recovered,youknow.”“Don’t worry.” Hesmiled. “I know mylimits and shall restwhen I feel the need.You have done aremarkable job ofhealing me and, oddlyenough, the exertion ofmoving about moreseems to have a good

effect.Iamfeelingmuchstrongertoday.AndasIamnotintheleasttiredat present, I think thismightbeagoodtimetolook over those otheraccountbooks.”Jane stopped,flustered. “Oh, but thatwasonly—Imean,thereisnolongeraneed,nowthat...”Theystood,facingeachother, and as her voice

trailedoff,hesaid, “Ah,I see. You mean thatyou would allow ahighwayman access toyour financial records,but not the notoriousSt.Clair.”Blushing, she replied,“Don’t be absurd. I didnotmeanthatatall.”His brows rosequestioningly, and shesaid, “Oh, for heaven’ssake!Feelfreetolookto

your heart’s content.Come. I shall show youto the estate room...unlessyouwouldpreferthat I have thembrought to yourchamber?”“No, the estate roomwillbefine.”He followed her to asmall room at the backof thehouse,wheresheagainremindedhimnotto overtax his strength.

Butwhensheturnedtoleave,hestoppedher.Takingbothherhandsin his, he said, “I havebeenthinking....”“Yes?” She hoped hervoice did not sound asbreathless as shefeared. She did notknow what she hadhoped to hear, but hiswordssurprisedher.He said, “We havebecome accustomed to

addressing one anotherby our first names,which is fine when weare in private. Butperhaps it would bebetter ifwewerea triflemore cautious infuture...particularlybefore Alice. Also, youmust be very discreetwhen visiting mychamber.”Asmallsparkofanger

came to life.Washe, ofall people, lecturing heron the subject ofpropriety?“Of course,” she saidrather stiffly,withdrawing her hands.She could not resistadding tartly, “Andperhaps you shouldrefrainfromgreetingmewithakissonthecheekinfuture.”

He grinned and said,“Oh, well, that wasmerely a cousinlygesture.”“Nevertheless, I adviseyou to take care, St.Clair. Youknow aswellasIthatnooneislikelyto believe that far-fetchedtale.”Withthat,she lefthimand did not hear thesmall sound he made,which was halfway

betweenamuffledlaughandasigh.Although she hadduties to perform, Janewent straight to herroom, upheld by astrong feeling ofindignation untildespondency overtookheragain.The scene at thebreakfast table replayedin her mind, and sherecalled Alice’s parting

words. In all her effortstobetheoppositeofhermother, she had neverconsidered that anyonewould ever view her asother than a perfectlady.Butnow...wasshebecomingadried-upoldmaid? To be comparedtoJosephineBassett!Shewenttothemirrorand studied herreflectionanxiously.No,

surely it was not so.Certainlyherlookswerenot all she could wish,but she had begun tothinktheyhadimprovedlately,thoughshecouldnothave saidhow.Andthe lines at the comersof her mouth werecaused by laughter,weretheynot?Trying to be asobjective as possible,she decided that she

wasnot likeAlice’s old-maid cousin. But whatofthefuture?Mightthatbe the direction inwhich she was headed?She shuddered at thethought, yet shewas aspinster and very likelymore set in her waysthanshecaredtothink.And she was, perhaps,overly concerned withpropriety. It would be

difficult to change atthis stage in her life,but, dear God, she didnotwish to endup likeJosephineBassett.Then another, happierthoughtstruckher.Sherealized that she hadalready begun tochange, so perhaps itwould not be so veryhard, after all. It wascertain that she hadrelaxed her usual code

of conduct with Jon.But, at the thought ofJon,she frownedagain,fearing that, with him,she had allowed herbehaviour to become atrifletoolax.Herfrowndeepenedasthis train of thoughtbrought to mindsomething he had saidearlier.Was he interested in

Alice? It was certainlypossible. As Jon hadsaid, Alice was ofmarriageable age, andhe was only three-and-thirty. Men of his agefrequently married girlsas young as she. Janewouldnothave thoughta man of his stampwould be interested inmarriage, but the factthathehadfinallycometo put Ethridge Hall to

rights might be anindication that he haddecided it was time tochooseawifeandsetuphisnursery.On the other hand,what if it were notmarriage he had inmind?Whatifhemeanttoofferthegirla...aslipon the shoulder? Butsomehow she could notbelieve that Jon wouldbehaveinsobaseaway.

He might be a demonwith the ladies, but hewould not stoop toseducing innocentyoung females. Still, forthe timebeing, shehadthe girl under her careand therefore wasresponsible forprotectingher.Jane suddenly foundherself wishing Alice atJericho; anywhere buthere.Sheknewjealousy

was an unworthyemotion, and one towhichshehadnoright,since she had no claimon Jon. But knowing athing and doingsomethingaboutitwereverydifferent.Oh dear, what amuddle she wasmaking.Leaning towards herreflection in the mirror,she said aloud, “You

foolishcreature!Youarebehaving like a perfectninnyhammer.Itistimeyou stopped feelingsorry for yourself andbeganusingsomeofthegood sense you havealways thought youpossessed.”Staring a momentlonger, sheadded, “Andyou are going to beginby getting rid of thisuseless object!” She

pulledthelacycapfromher head and flung itaside. She might be aspinster, but that didnot mean she must goout of her way to looklikeone.Feeling much better,she went to herwardrobe and begansearching through hergowns for a morebecomingone.Striking a balance

between all heropposing needs anddesires would besomething like walkinga tightrope, butsomehow she wouldmanage. And with hernew image, plus thereturn of her goodsense, she wasconfident that she wasequal to the challengesfacingher.

CHAPTERNINEAsa first step towardsachievinghernewgoals,Janewent directly fromher chamber to Alice’s,determined to putthings right betweenthem—and not amomenttoosoon.Alice, now dressed fortravelling,was strainingto close one of herbandboxes, which she

had obviously packedherself,fortheedgeofamuslin garment couldbeseenpokingoutfromunder the recalcitrantlid. She looked up fromher task with a guiltyexpression and saiddefiantly,“IamgoingtoBrighton,tojoinPapa.”Refraining fromaskinghowthegirl intendedtogetthereonherown,orhow she thought she

might manage with nomore than could bestuffed into onebandbox, Jane saidmildly, “How glad I amthat I caught you intimethen.Doyouthinkwemight talk for a fewminutesbeforeyougo?”“I suppose a fewminuteswillnotmatter,one way or the other,”Aliceconceded.Jane stepped across

the room and sat downon the side of the bed,then patted the placebeside her. After amoment,Alicesatdownnexttoher.“Actually, I came toapologize to you,” Janetoldher.“Youdid?”askedAlice,unable to hide hersurprise.“Indeed,” said Jane.“What with St. Clair

being here, and so ill, IfearIhavebeenunderagreatdealofstrain.Asaresult, you and I seemto have got off on thewrongfoot. Iwasratherhopingwemightchangethatandstartanew.”Frowningslightly,Alicesaid slowly, “Well, Idon’tknow.Idon’tthinkI wish to become aproper lady, after all. Iknow it is what Papa

desires,butIdonotseewhy I must change.Anyway,”sheadded,“hewillcomeroundonceheunderstands how muchIdislikeit.”Rather thanansweringthat, Jane said, “Tellme, Alice. Do you wishfor a London Season,and eventually,marriage?”Looking shocked, thegirldeclared,“Ofcourse!

Icertainlydonotintendtobeanoldmaid.ButIdon’t see why I mustlearn all those stuffyrules in order to get ahusband. I am verypretty. Everyone saysso.”Inwardly wincing atsuchblatantconceit,aswell as at her tactlessremark, Jane calmlyagreed.“Indeed,youareextremely pretty. And

thatmightbeenough,ifyou are not particularaboutwhoitisthatyoumarry.”“What do you mean?”asked Alicesuspiciously.“Well, you are inpossession of a verygenerous dowry. Withthatandyourlooks,youshould have no troubleattaching a husband. Iam sure there are any

number of fortune-hunters in London whowill not care a whit forhow you conductyourself.“However,” shecontinued, ignoringAlice’ssuddenfrown,“itis unfortunate but truethat gentlemen of thefirst consequence,whenchoosing a bride, tendto look for females whowillnotembarrassthem

by their behaviour.Although your beautymight attract them atfirst,intheendtheywillchoose a true lady overasadrompeverytime.”Alice’sfrowndeepened,and after several longminutes, she saidreluctantly, “Oh, verywell. But must I spendevery moment at thosestupidlessons?”Keeping all trace of

victory from her voice,Jane said, “I don’tsuppose that isnecessary,butyoumustspend some time atthem.”Alice replied sulkily,“Yes, but Papa allowedme to bring Firefly, mymare, with me, and Ihave not even seen hersince I arrived. I amusedtoridingherevery

day.”Really! The girlsounded as though shehad been cooped uphere fordays.ButJanemerelysaid,“I’llmakeabargain with you, Alice.If you will agree todevoteatleastonehourin themorningand twointheafternoontoyourlessons, I think wemightgiveourselvesthetreat of riding each

morning beforebreakfast.”“Oh, capital!” criedAlice. “And St. Clairshallgowithus.”“I fear thatwill not bepossible,” Jane told herquickly.“Atleastnotforsome time. You mustremember that he hasbeenveryill.”“Oh,”saidAlice,clearlydisappointed. But thena sunny smile

brightened her face.“But he will be able togowithusforourpicnicon Saturday, will henot? We can take acarriage, so he needn’tworryaboutriding.”“Certainly he may, ifhecaresto.”“Oh, he will,” declaredAlice with all theassurance of one whohasseldombeendeniedanything. “I shall ask

him.”No longer feeling quiteso kindly disposedtowards the girl, Janetook her leave of Alice,who had already rungfor her maid to comeand unpack herbandbox.Jane soon scoldedherself out of herjealousy, although notwithout difficulty, andas she headed for the

kitchen, she was evensmilinga little.Shewasanticipating how St.Clairwould laughwhenhe heard of her latestsuccess in the art ofbribery.As it happened,however, she had noopportunity to speakprivately with himduring the next fewdays.Shewascalledoutseveral times to tend ill

neighbours and sinceshe had forbiddenherself to go to hischamber, she saw himonly at meals. Inaddition, when he wasnot resting, he wascloseted in the estateroom.Had he truly been thehighwayman, such acircumstance mighthave afforded her agreat deal of

gratification. As it was,she could only wonderwhat it was that hefoundsofascinatinginasetofmustyoldaccountbooks.It occurred toher thathe seemed to be goingout of his way toobserve all theproprietieswithher.Shedidn’t know whether tobe amused or vexed atsuchaturnabout,since

it was he who had sooften lured her intothrowing caution to thewind before Alice’sarrival.Butevenhadshegoneagainst her betterjudgement and visitedhisroom,shewouldnothave been alone withhim. The man, Kearny,whom she assumed tobe his valet, had nowbecomeamemberofthe

household and seemedalways to be hoveringprotectively around hismaster.By the time Saturdayfinally arrived, she waslooking forward to theirpicnicalmostaseagerlyas Alice, for St. Clairhad not only agreed toaccompany them, buthad declared thatnothing could keep himfrom it. Even the

knowledge that shewould be sharing himwithAlicecouldnotdimJane’s pleasure at thethought of spending anhourortwowithhiminthe relaxed atmosphereofsuchanouting.Fortunately, St. Clairhad sent for his owncurricle, and theyagreed to use it sinceJane’s was found tohaveacrackedaxle.The

day was far too lovelyforthemtobeclosedupin the carriage, whichdid not seemappropriate for such anexcursion in any case.In fact, the picnicbaskethadalreadybeenpackedandplacedinSt.Clair’s vehicle whenMelrose announced acaller.Upon being told thatthe visitor was Mrs.

Micklethorp, Jane wasnotonlyannoyedatthisdelayintheirplans,butthoroughly surprised.The vicar’s wife seldomtroubled to make thejourney all the way outto Meadowbrook. Sheenjoyed visiting withJane and Agatha, but,being a trifle indolent,shepreferredtoletthemcometoher.Jane feared that she

knewthereasonforthisunprecedentedvisit,butshemadeherwaytothedrawing-room with asmuch polite composureas she could muster.She was all the morecertain that she hadguessed correctly whenshe saw Mrs.Micklethorp’s forbiddingcountenance. Usuallythat lady was the mostamiable of creatures,

despiteherpenchantforgossip.“My dear Jane,” saidMrs. Micklethorp,scarcely giving herhostesstimetoshutthedoor.“IcameassoonasI heard, and Imust tellyou that Iwasnever soshocked inmy life! Youknow how much Idislike interfering inother people’s lives, butinthiscase,IfeelthatI

shouldbeneglectingmyduty were I to remainsilent.”While she drew breathtocontinue,Janeaskedhastily,inthevainhopeof postponing theinevitable, “Would youcare for some tea, Mrs.Micklethorp?”“No, no!” said thatlady. Then, “Well,perhaps just one cup,andpossiblyoneor two

of those delicious littlecakes your cook is sogoodatmaking.”Jane walked to thebell-pull, but her guestwas not to be put off.Shesaid,“Butyoumustnottrytodivertmefrommypurpose,Jane.”Sighing,Janemovedtoa nearby chair andreluctantly prepared tohear the woman out. “Icollect you have not

comemerely for a visit.Andthatbeingso,whatis your purpose, Mrs.Micklethorp?”“I thinkyouknowthatvery well, my dear, butin case you do not—Jane, how could youtakethatmanintoyourhome and allow him torun tame here for anentire sennight? And, ifwhatIhearistrue,heis

stillhere!”“If you are referring toLord St. Clair,” saidJanewithcoolcivility,“Ihad little choice in thematter. He wasinadvertently shot bymy own coachman, sonaturally I feltresponsible. And sincehe needed immediatecare, andMeadowbrookwas so close, it seemedthe most reasonable

thingtodo.”“So I was told and,knowing you as I do, Iwould think nothing ofit were he anyone else.But,mydear,youknowhisreputation.”“Certainly I know thathehasone,althoughnoonehaseverbotheredtotellmejustwhathehasdonetodeserveit.”“Well,” declared Mrs.

Micklethorp, colouring,“for one thing, he is anotoriouslibertine.And,though you know littleof the world despiteyour years, I am sureyou know what thatmeans.”“Oh yes,” said Jane,her smile forced. “Ibelieve the term refersto a man who is notedforhismany—”shecast

about in her mind fortheproperword “—lighto’loves. But from thelittle I do know of theworld, in thatwayhe isvery much like manygentlemen of the ton.The only difference isthat he is more openand honest about hisaffairs.”Janewasfeelingallthedismay and

mortification she wouldhave expected to feel atfinding herself in aposition to be lecturedto and gossiped about.What she had notexpected, however, wasto feel such anger andindignation. But shethoughtshecouldsafelysay that she knew St.Clair better, by now,than Mrs. Micklethorpor any other of her

neighbours. And shecould not meekly allowhim to be attacked inthisway.Mrs. Micklethorp’scolour had risen evenhigher, and she said, “Isee that this is moreseriousthanIfeared.Hehas already beguncorruptingyou.”Seeing how alarminglyredherguest’sfacehadbecome,andfearingshe

might be in danger ofsuffering an apoplexy,Jane decided thatconciliationwould serveher better than anger.Leaning forwardearnestly, she said,“DearMrs.Micklethorp,I know that yourintentions are of thebestandthatyouspeakonly out of concern forme, but I assure youthat the viscount has

not corrupted me. Farfrom it! I have foundhim to be most...” Shewanted to say“gentlemanly”butfoundshe could not quitemanage that. Instead,she lamely substituted,“Likeable andcharming.”“Oh, yes. I do notdoubtthat.Charm,afterall, is a rake’s stock intrade,” said Mrs.

Micklethorp scathingly.Then with an air ofmartyrdom, shecontinued, “Well, I seethere isnohelp for it. Imust tell you thewholetruth about him, nomatterhowdistastefulitis to me. You are amaiden lady, Jane, andno one has wished tosully your ears withsuch a sordid tale. Butifthatistheonlywayto

bring you to yoursenses, I must notpermit a concern fordelicacy to stand inmyway.”Ever since she hadfirst begun hearing ofSt. Clair, Jane hadwonderedwhathecouldhave done to earn sucha reputation. She knewthere was more to itthan just the fact thathe was a rake. During

heroneSeason,shehaddiscovered that Londonwaswellpopulatedwithrakes, most of whomwere accepted into thefirstcirclesofSociety.At least they wereacceptedsolongastheywerereasonablydiscreetabouttheirpeccadilloes,which, apparently, St.Clairwasnot.But,evenso, the ton, particularlytheladies,hadacertain

peculiar fondness forthe breed, and it wastheywhoruledSociety.But now that she wasabouttobetoldtherealreason for St. Clair’sostracism, she foundherself extremelyreluctant to hear it.Where the devil wasMelrose with that tea?shewonderedcrosslyasMrs.Micklethorpleanedforward to say with ill-

concealed relish, “Ithappened many yearsago,ofcourse,althoughhisyouthcannotexcusewhathedid. I shallnotmention the younglady’s name, but Iassureyou,shecameofan excellent family, andSt.Clair—”At thatmoment, therecameascratchingatthedoor, followed byMelrose’s entrance with

the tea tray. Jane wasso grateful that shecould have embracedhim.Shewasevenmoregratified when Agathaenteredtheroomonhisheels.Her face wreathed insmiles, Agatha sailedacross the room to seatherself beside thevisitor. “My dear Mrs.Micklethorp,” she said.“What a pleasant

surprise this is. Youhave not visited us inages.”“No,” said that lady ina rather disconcertedmanner. “Well, as thevicar’swife,Ihavemanyobligations, you know.And I see you so oftenwhen you visit Dunbythat there is no need—ButIdidwishtohaveawordwithJane.”“Very thoughtful of

you,” said Agatha,beginning to pour thetea.Then,afterhandingtheir guest a cup, shelookedatJane. “Shouldyounotbe leavingnow,Jane? You are alreadyquite late for yourappointment.”“Oh, yes,” said Jane,rising hastily. “Pleaseexcuse me, Mrs.Micklethorp. I doappreciateyourconcern

and I assure you that Ishall think about whatyou have said. But Ihavepromisedthistimeto young Alice Brant,and I cannotdisappointher.”Thevicar’swifeopenedher mouth, but beforeshecouldspeak,Agathasaid, “Nowyou just runalong, love, and do notworry about us. Mrs.Micklethorp and I shall

manage nicely on ourown and enjoy acomfortablecoze.”Jane wasted not amoment in taking heradvice. Just beforeclosing the drawing-room door behind her,she heard Agathasaying, “Now, youmusttry one of these newcakesCookhasmade. Iknow you are partial toherothers,butthisisa

newrecipe,and...”Leaning her foreheadagainstthecoolwoodofthe door, Jane releasedher breath in a smallpuff of laughter. PoorMrs.Micklethorpwasnomatch for Agatha.Onceher companion set hermind to it, she couldoutmaneuver and out-gossip even the mostaccomplished tale-tattler.

She turned, then, tofind St. Clair watchingher from across theentry hall withanswering laughter inhiseyes.He said, “It is abouttime!IwasbeginningtothinkIwouldbeobligedtocomeandrescueyoumyself.”Jane smiled. “I don’tthink that would havebeenagoodnotion.Iam

afraid our vicar’s wifehasaratherunflatteringopinionofyou.”He looked at hersharplybutmerelysaid,“Been blackening mycharacter,hasshe?”“Nomore than usual,”said Jane lightly. Then,looking round, sheasked, “But where isAlice?”“Outside, champing atthe bit,” he replied. “So

youhadbeststeplively,mygirl.”“Oh, my, yes. Just letmegetmybonnetandIshallbeready.”Outside, Jane wassomewhat surprised tofind Alice mounted onher mare, and morethan a little pleased atthe thought that justsheandSt.Clairwouldbe sharing the curricle.Shehadbeenwondering

how the three of themwould manage in avehicle meant to seatonlytwocomfortably.Therewasnoquestionofherbeingprivatewithhim, however, as Alicechose to ridebeside thecarriage, chattering andflirting outrageouslywith him most of thetime. For all that, Janewas content, speakingonly now and then to

givedirections.It was one of thoseidyllic summer days,sunnyandwarm,withahintofabreeze.Theskywas incredibly blue,dotted here and therewith fluffy white cloudswherein one could seeall manner of fantasticandmagicalshapes.Jane drew a deepbreath and marveledthat she had never

before been so acutelyconsciousof themyriadand delightful smells ofsummertime inYorkshire. But most ofall,shewasawareoftheman beside her, whosescent was so peculiarlyhis own, and somehow,more pleasing than alltherest.It did not take themlong to arrive at thelocation Jane had

chosen for their outing,a grassy glade beside asmall stream. St. Clairglanced round as hehanded her down fromthe curricle, andremarked,“CorrectmeifI amwrong, but is thisnot part of myproperty?”“Oh dear, you havecaught me out. But Imust own that I havebeen trespassing here

foragoodmanyyears—since long before it wasyour property. It is oneof my favourite places,and I doubt the formerowner ever knew of mycrime. Are you going toexactafinefromme?”Hiseyesgleamingwithamusement, he replied,“No, not in a monetarysense. All the same, IthinkImustclaimsomesortofforfeitfromyou.”

But Jane was left towonderwhatthatmightbe.Upon their arrival,Alice had jumped downfrom her horse withoutwaiting for assistance,and after securing thereins to a nearby bush,shehadbegunexploringthe glade. There waslittle to interest her,however, and now shewas back, demanding,

“Aforfeitureforwhat?”“Fortrespassingonmyland,”St.Clairtoldher.“Oh,isthisyourland?Ihadnotrealizeditwassuchavast estate.Wasthat old curmudgeon arelative of yours? Papasays he was as rich asCroesus,soyoumustbevery plump in thepocket now. I supposethat will make you agreat deal more

acceptable to the ton,willitnot?”Janehadtoclenchherjaw to keep fromcriticizing the girl, butshewasdeterminednotto spoil this day bysending Alice into atemper. To salve herconscience, she toldherself that she wouldfindawaylatertobringup the subjectdiplomatically.

St.Clair,however,waslooking decidedly asthoughhewerereadytogive Alice a severe set-down. Meeting Jane’seyes, however, heseemed to understandthepleadinginthem.HeturnedbacktoAliceandsaid mildly, “It is myland, and the oldgentleman was arelative,althoughavery

distant one. I have nonotion of how myinheritance will affectthe ton’s view of me,and it is impolite toenquire into a man’swealth, or lack thereof...unless you are thefatherofamarriageabledaughter.”Jane held her breath,expecting a tantrum,but to her surprise,Alice merely said, “Oh.”

Then, with an abruptchange of subject, sheasked, “May we eatnow? We were late instarting, and I amfamished.”There was noopportunity for privatetalk during the picnicmeal, but on the tripback to Meadowbrook,Alice did not remainquite so close to thecarriage. Jane guessed

that thegirlwasa littleout of charity with St.Clair,forhehadtreatedher with amusedtolerance all morning.Now,boredandrestlesssincethepromisedtreatwas over, Alice hadapparently decided topunishhimbydeprivinghim of her company.She took to gallopingahead of them, thenwaiting impatiently for

themtocatchupbeforeforgingaheadagain.Watching her, andhopingshewouldnotbeso imprudent as to gobeyondtheirsight,Janesaidruefully,“IsupposeI should arrange someentertainments for herand invite the otheryoung people from theneighbourhood to keepheramused.”Glancingatherwitha

grin,St.Clairsaiddryly,“Forgiveme,Jane,butIam heartily sick of thechitandherproblems.Idon’t wish to talk ofher.”“Oh, of course not. Idid not mean to boreyouwithmytroubles.”“Your troubles do notbore me. It is simplythat I would ratherspeak of other thingsjustnow.Forinstance,I

have not told you howgladIamthatyouhaveleft off wearing thoseridiculouscaps.Youarefar too young andattractive for suchthings.”Jane wished with allher heart that she didnotblushsoeasily.Shesaid in a slightlystrangled voice, “Oh,well, Agatha is foreverscoldingme forwearing

them. I simply grewtired of listening toher.But there is no need tooffermeSpanishcoin. Iam neither young norparticularlyattractive.”“You are younger, byseveral years, than I,”he told her. “As to theother,perhaps it istruethatbeautyisintheeyeofthebeholder.”It was a good thingthat he was not

watching her then, forshewascertainthatherabsurdhappinessathiscompliment showedclearlyonherface.Eventhe knowledge that hemust be very practicedat making suchspeeches could notdampen the thrill shefelt. Sincere or not, sheknewshewouldcherishhiswordsforever.They were silent for

several minutes then,and her thoughtsreturned to Mrs.Micklethorp and whatshe had been about toreveal. What terriblething would she havelearnedaboutSt.Clairifthey had not beeninterrupted?Shedidnotwant to know, yet shecould not stopwondering.She could not have

known that St. Clair’sthoughts were on thesame subject, but, justas they turned into thecarriage drive atMeadowbrook, he said,“Jane, I need to speakwith you. Not now, forwhat I have to say toyou is private. Will youagree to meet with melater?”Without stopping toconsider, sheanswered,

“I shall come to yourchambertonight.”“No!” he said sharply.Then, gentling his tone,he repeated, “No. Thatwould not be wise.Besides, Kearny iscertaintobesomewherewithinearshot. Itwouldbe better if we met inthe rose garden afterAliceisabed.”“Verywell,” sheagreedquietly, pleased at how

calm she soundedwhen, in truth, she feltoddlyexcitedandratherdaringatthethoughtofsuch an assignationwith St. Clair. Whatcould he mean to tellher?If he was going todivulge the truth abouthimself,shepreferredtohear it from him ratherthanfromsomeoneelse.But perhaps it was

something elsealtogether...

CHAPTERTENBy the time theyarrived at the frontentrance, Alice hadalready disappeared inthe direction of thestables, and afterhanding Jane downfrom the curricle, St.Clair drove off in thatdirection, too. Janewatched,bemused,untilhewasoutofsight,then

turned towards thehouse.With her thoughtswhollycentredupontheproposed rendezvouswith St. Clair later thatnight, she wonderedhow she would manageto get through theintervening hours. Butallof that flew fromherhead when she steppedthrough the door todiscover a state of near

pandemonium.Elsie stood near thebottom of the stairs,glaring at Melrose. Atthe sight of hermistress, she cried, “Itweren’t my fault!Melroseweren’tnowhereabout,andhowwasItoknow the old cat— Imean the vicar’s wife—can’tabidethesquire?”Before Jane couldenquire as to the

meaning of thisastounding speech,Melrose answeredsharply,“Ifyouhadbutwaited a moment,instead of rushing toanswerthedooryourself—which you know wellisnopartofyourduties— I should have beenhere. Now, if you knowwhat is good for you,you will stop botheringMiss Jane and take

yourself off to thekitchentohelpCook.”The maid flouncedaway.Melroseturnedtohismistress to offerhisownapologies,butJanescarcely heard him orregisteredhisunusuallyharassedlook.AliceandSt.Clairhadjust come in, but herattentionwasrivetedonthesoundofaboomingmale voice coming from

thedrawing-room.“Herenow,woman,be carefulwith that foot. It hurtsliketheverydevil!”Agatha’svoicesoundedunsympathetic. “Oh,stop your complaining,Alfred. You have onlyyourselftoblame.Ifyouwere not foreverattemptingtobehaveasifyouwerestillayoungblade...”“Papa!” shrieked Alice,

and dashing past Jane,she flew into thedrawing-room.“Ah, there you are,puss. Come give yourpapa a kiss, but becarefulofthatfoot.”St. Clair raised hiseyebrows at Jane andsaid, “I believe this is acasewhereretreatisthebetter part of valour. Ishall be in the estateroom should you need

me.”Jane merely noddeddistractedlyandwenttothedrawing-room.Thereshe discovered SirAlfred,sittinginawing-chair beside the emptyfireplace fondly greetinghis daughter, whileAgatha finishedarranging his heavilybandaged left foot on apillow-toppedfootstool.“SirAlfred!” Jane said,

wondering if shesounded as stupid asshe feared she did. “IthoughtyouwouldbeinBrighton, or on yourwaytotheContinentbynow.”“Aye, and so I shouldhave been, had it notbeen for this,” hegrowled, nodding at theoffending appendage.“But I must haveinjured the damned toe

somehow, for theconfounded thing hasswelled like a blastedballoon and is devilishpainful.”“In a pig’s eye!” saidAgatha inelegantly.“Injured, indeed! It isthe gout, and comes asa result of all that richfood and drink, not tomention other thingswhich are better leftunsaid. And I shall

thankyoutokeepaciviltongue in your headwhile you are in thishouse,sir!”Jane thought sheheard Agatha add, “Oldfool,” under her breath,butcouldnotbecertain.After favouring Agathawith a blistering scowl,the squire lookedsheepishly at Jane andapologized for hislanguage, then said,

“Butwhat is this IhearaboutSt.Clair?”“Oh, Papa!” declaredAlice. “Only think, Ihavebeenstayinginthesame house as a notedrake!” Then she addedwith a slight pout, “Buthe is not at all what Ithoughthewouldbe.Infact, he treats me asthough he were myuncle, or some suchthing.”

Looking somewhatrelieved.SirAlfred said,“Well,well.Always likedthefellowmyself,evenifhe is a bounder. Hearhe has inheritedeverythingfromthatoldcurmudgeon Caldwell,though, so I expect allthatnastybusinesswillsoon be forgiven. Evenso,can’thavehimlivingin the same house asmyyoungpuss,here.”

For the briefest ofmoments, Jane wassorely tempted to tellhim that hemight takehis daughter away withhim, with her blessing.Butofcourseshecouldnot be so uncivil.Instead,thinkingittimeto takecommandof thesituation, she sent areluctant Alice off tochangeoutofherridinghabit, then told Sir

Alfred, “Your daughter,sir, is being wellchaperoned. And as forSt. Clair, he has beenrecuperating here afteran unfortunateaccident. Ethridge Hall,asyouknow,isscarcelyfitforoccupancy.”“Well, well,” said thesquire again with athoughtful frown. Nodoubt you are right.Mightnotbesuchabad

thing for my girl, afterall. Hear he has hiredworkmentosettheHallto rights, which makesme wonder if he isplanning to mend hisways and settle down.By all accounts he isrich as a nabob now.Before we know it, allthe matchmakingmamaswillbe throwingtheir eligible daughtersinhispath.Noharmin

my puss having a headstart,isthere?”Jane had no notion ofhow to answer thatremarkable speech. Somuch for takingcommand of thesituation, she thoughtwryly.She turned at thesound of someoneclearing his throat andfound Melrose still

standing in thedoorway. “Yes,Melrose?”sheasked.“Iwaswondering.MissJane, what you wishedme to do about thelady.”“Thelady?”“Thevicar’swife.”“Good God!” Janeexclaimed. “Is she stillhere?”“I am afraid so, MissJane. She was a trifle

oversetwhen the squirearrived,and—”“Ha!” interpolated SirAlfred. “That’s rich! ‘Atrifle overset.’Went intoa spasm is what shedid.”“I had her removed tothe morning-room,”finished Melrose ratherfaintly.“Damned gossipingbusybody,”mutteredSirAlfred.

“Great heavens!”declared Agatha. “Iforgotallabouther.Youhad better go to her,Jane.Icouldnotgetridof her, for she isdetermined to speak toyou,andIfearshewon’tleave until she does. Ihave a fair notion ofwhat it is shemeans totell you.” Then sheaddedrathercryptically,“Just remember that

there is always morethanonewayto lookatathing.”Squelching a pudding-hearted urge to feignillness,Janesaid, “Verywell,” and walkedresolutely from theroom.As she mounted thestairs, she heard SirAlfredsaying,“Speakingof unfortunateaccidents, did you hear

that I was robbed bythat devilish rogue of ahighwayman? And thedamnedfellowisstillonthe loose. Don’t knowwhat this world iscomingto!”Jane did not hearAgatha’s reply, nor didthe thought of thehighwayman bother heranylonger.Inanyevent,shehadtoomanyotherthings on her mind. A

few moments later, sheentered the morning-roomwithadeterminedsmilepastedonherlips.Mrs. Micklethorp waslying on the sofa,clutching a vinaigrettein her hand, but atJane’sentrance,shesatup and looked at heraccusingly. “PraiseGod,you have finallyreturned,” she said. “Idon’t know how much

longer I could bear toremain under the sameroofasthatman.”“St. Clair?” Jane wassurprised into asking.So farassheknew, theladyhadnotsomuchaslaideyesonSt.Clair.“No,no,notSt.Clair—well,him,too,butIwasreferring, on thisoccasion, to SquireBrant. Theman has anevil tongue in his head

and not an ounce ofcivility in his body. Asyou know, my dear, avicar’s wife must dealwith a great manypersons of the lowerclasses, but they, atleast,knowhowtoshowa proper respect. Suchlanguage as he uses!Well! As I said, I couldscarcely bear to remainin the samehousewithhim.”

Suppressing a stronginclination to tell herpersistentguest thatnoonehadconstrainedhertodoso,Janesaid,“I’msorry, but I had nonotion that you wouldstay for such a lo—Imean Ihadnot realizedthat you meant to waitforme,ma’am.”“Iknowmyduty,Jane,andasItoldyouearlier,I came to speak with

youandImeantodosobeforeIgo.”As much as Jane hadlongedtoavoidthis,shenowonlywishedforthewoman to sayherpieceand leave. In any case,itappearedthatnothingwouldstopher.Deciding that it wasbetter to hear the truthnow, rather thanindulge in speculation,Jane sat down wearily.

“Very well,ma’am. Justwhat is it that St. Clairis supposed to havedone?”Mrs. Micklethorpassumed the classicpose of someone aboutto offer a choicemorselof gossip, while at thesame time managing toappearreluctant.Even as she wonderedatsuchanability,Janeresigned herself to

hearinga long, involvedtale.However, the vicar’swife told the whole inonlytwosentences.Shesaid, not entirelyunsympathetically, “Ifear there is nosupposing about it, forthestorycamefromthemost reliable source. Inany event, not to wrapthe matter in cleanlinen, my dear, he

eloped with a younglady,gotherwithchild,then abandoned her toher fate, refusing tomarryher.”Surprised by thebrevity of that speech,and shocked by itscontent, Jane’s firstinclination was to denythat it could be true.But something stoppedher. She could not,however, think of any

other response, and soshe watched in a silentdaze as her guest rose,saying, “There, I havedonewhatIcametodo.I shall gonow,but Idohope that you willconsider well all that Ihave said, and actaccordingly.”With that, Mrs.Micklethorp took herleave,butJanescarcelyregistered that she was

finallygone.What she had heardwas far worse thananything she hadimagined. For him tohaveabandonedthegirlafter getting her withchild... no, she couldnot believe that of him.And yet, even lovinggossipasthevicar’swifedid, would she repeatsuch a vicious tale if itwere completely

unsubstantiated?Jane hated the doubtwhich had insinuateditself intohermind,butcould not rid herself ofit.Mrs. Micklethorp hadsaidthatthestorycamefrom the most reliablesource, which couldonly be the girl or herfamily. But surely theywould not have wishedto broadcast such a

disaster. Theywould bemore likely to do all intheir power to hush itup,wouldtheynot?By now, Jane’s headwas throbbing and shelonged for nothing somuch as the privacy ofherownchamber,whereshecouldtrytocometotermswithherconfusedfeelings.For, evenwhileshe unhappily acceptedthe possible—probable?

—truthofthestory,shewas desperately tryingto find excuses for St.Clair.But she could not doas she wished; she stillhadaguesttoseeto.Itwould be too uncivil toignore the squire’spresenceinsuchaway,and so she forcedherself to return to thedrawing-room.On her way, a new

concernoccurredtoher.SheknewthatSirAlfredhad given most of hisstaffleave,sincehehadexpected to be away forsome time. What if shewere obliged to househim, too? Her financialresources were alreadyconsiderablystrained.Intheend,shewasnotobliged to house thesquire.Hedid,however,accept her invitation to

stay for dinner, whichturnedout tobebothablessing and a trial. Itwas a severe strain tositattablewithSt.Clairand attempt to behaveas if nothing hadchanged when, in fact,herheartwasbreaking.It was fortunate,therefore, that thesquirewas there, forhedominated theconversation, making

her inability tomeetSt.Clair’seyes,or tospeakeasily with him, lessobvious.Afterwards,asSt.Clairsaidgood-night,hegaveher a meaningful lookand, under his breath,murmured,“Untillater.”She knew he wasreferring to theirproposedmeetinginthegarden, but she couldnot tell him that she

wouldnot be there. Foronething,theywerenotalone, and for another,she did not know whatto say to him. More tothepoint,shefearedshemightburstintotearsifshetriedtospeak.Inherchamber,assheslowly made ready forbed, she wondereddejectedly how long hewould wait for her. Notlong, she thought.

During dinner, Mrs.Micklethorp’s extendedvisit had beenmentioned,andSt.Clairhad looked at Janesharply. Hisunderstanding washighly acute, so nodoubt he alreadysuspected that she nowknew the truth abouthim and would not besurprised by her failuretoappear.

Perhapshewouldevenbegonebythetimesheawakened in themorning. And shewondered, as shecrawled into bed, whythat thought shouldmakeherweep.

CHAPTERELEVENSt. Clair waited forJane for scarcely aquarterofanhour.Sheknew this because shehad frequently glancedat the clock by herbedside. So she knewexactlywhattimeitwaswhen her door openedand he strode into herchamber.The sight of him filled

herwithsuchhappinessthat, justforamoment,she forgot all otherconsiderations. Yetsomehow this seemedmuch more improperthan her visits to hischamberhadeverbeen.Sitting up, Janeclutched the sheet toher chest and hissed,“St.Clair!Whatareyoudoinghere?”

He neither spoke norstopped until he wasstandingbesideherbed.Then, arms akimbo, heglared down at her andsaid,“IfMohammedwillnot come to themountain...ButIthinkIknow why you failed tokeep our appointment.It was the vicar’s wife,was it not? Mrs.Middlethrop?”“Micklethorp,” she

corrected as she turnedher head away, notwishinghim to see howreddenedhereyesmustbe, and feelingunaccountablyashamedforhavingfailedhim.Buthetookherchininhis hand and turned itback. “No, do not turnaway from me. We aregoing to have this outnow, though why Ishould care— In any

event, the lady told youa most unsavoury taleaboutme, did she not?And you not onlybelieved her, but havealreadyjudgedme.”“No, but—oh, I don’tknow what to believe!”Janecriedinagitation.“Hush,” he said, “ortheentirehouseholdwillhearus.”Stungbyhiscriticism,she nevertheless

loweredhervoiceasshereplied indignantly, “Itseems very strange tofind you so aware ofpropriety. Before I metyou I would not havedreamed of being soindiscreet.”Amusement leapt intohiseyesat that,andhesaid, “Mea culpa. Yousee, I admit my fault.”Then, becoming sober

once more, he added,“But this is the veryheight of indiscretion,and should we bediscovered, we shouldcertainly find ourselvesin the suds. Yourreputation would be asdamaged as my own.And it was you whoonce told me thatSociety can be cruel tothose who do not heedits rules, though God

knows, I have reasonenough of my own toknowthat.”“Yes,”shesaidquietly.“AsdoI.”As though he had notheard her, hecontinued, “Which isallthe more reason why Ishould not haveencouraged you to goagainstthoserules.”“Oh,no,” she toldhimtruthfully, “you cannot

takealltheblame.Iamnot a child to be soeasilyled.Youcouldnothave influencedmehadI not— But if you feardiscovery, perhaps youshouldgonow.”“Not just yet. I doubtthatanyonewilllearnofthis meeting if we arecareful, and I have yetto tell you what I cametosay.Areyouwillingtolisten to my version of

whathappenedallthoseyearsago?”Suddenly recallingAgatha’s saying thatthere was more thanoneway to see a thing,Jane reconsidered.Though the evidenceagainst him seemedquite overwhelming,perhaps he would beable to exoneratehimself. Besides, hiswords recalled to her

thefactthatallthiswasrather ancient history;he could not have beenmuch more than ayouthatthetime.With those thoughts,hoperose inherbreast,and she found that shewasnotonlywilling,butridiculously eager tohear his version of thestory.However,shemanagedto keep her voice and

expression calm as shereplied, “Of course. IhopeIamnotsoclosed-minded that I wouldrefusesucharequest.”He smiled andmurmured, “Good girl,”before saying, “When Iasked you tomeet withmetonight,Ihadmeantto tell the tale then. Ifyou were to learn thetruth about me—and Iknew that sooner or

later you must—Ipreferred that you hearit fromme. I suppose Ishould have told yousooner, but...” Hestopped, walked a fewsteps away, thenabruptly came back.“Damnation, I amfinding this moredifficult than I thought,and it may take sometime.”Jane merely nodded,

and St. Clair sat downon the edge of her bed.He was silent for awhile, but finally hebegan to speak. “After IcamedownfromOxford,I was quite mad forpurchasing a pair ofcolours and going off towar, but, as I was theonly son, my fathernaturally opposed thatnotion. I, of course, didnot see it as natural at

the time. I could noteven conceive of beingkilled. At that age, onetendstothinkofoneselfas immortal, I suppose.Evenso, Ihadacousinwhowasnextinlineforthetitle,soitwasnotasifhehadnootherheir.“My father and Iquarreledbitterly,whichwasnotunusualforus,and I tookmyself off toLondon, where I set up

my bachelor’sestablishment andwentmy length to put myfather’sbackupateveryopportunity.”He smiled faintly. “Oh,IthoughtIwasquitethebuck, top-of-the-trees,awake on every suit.And, oddly enough, Iwas, in most cases. Orperhaps I had aguardian angel lookingover my shoulder. At

leastImanagedtoavoidmost of the pitfallsawaiting younggreenhornsontheirownin London for the firsttime.But I found that Iwas not awake in allcases.”He fell silent again.Jane waited for him tocontinue, but she wasnolongerquitesotense.She could so easily seehim as the young man

he described,disappointed in hisdesiretogotowar,thengoing off to London toprove himself. She wassmiling slightly at thispicture of himwhen hespokeagain.“One day I received avisit from a young ladywhom I’d known allmylife, although I had notseen her for severalyears.Shewasayearor

two older than I, butwe’d grown up togetheronneighbouringestates,and I had alwaysconsideredher a friend.She told me that shewas being forced intomarriage with a manwho was old enough tobe her grandfather. Hewas not only physicallyrepulsivetoher,butshefeared him becauseshe’d heard rumours of

his cruelty to his firstwife. She pleaded withmetosaveher.”“But,” interruptedJane, “wereherparentsthe sort who would dothattotheirdaughter?Iknow such things usedtobequitecommon,butit sounds very gothic inthisdayandage.”“Yes, and I would nothave thought herparentscapableof such

insensitivity. They hadalways doted upon her,in fact.But Ihadheardthat her father was indun territory, and herstory was veryconvincing. In addition,she was clearlydistraught. In any case,she had already ruinedherselfbyrunningawayfrom home and bycoming to a bachelor’srooms alone, and so

therewasonlyonethingI could see to do. Iagreed to elope withher.”Jane could not agreethat elopement hadbeen the best solution,but she could certainlyunderstand why hemight have thought soat the time.Nevertheless, she beganto feel rather tenseagain.

She had been hopingthat he would deny thewhole story, but so far,his version, althoughmore detailed, did notdiverge overmuch fromMrs. Micklethorp’s. Hehadadmittedtorunningoffwiththegirl,andshedreaded hearing thattherestwasalsotrue.He must have felt orsensed the change inher, forhe liftedabrow

inenquiry.“IamnotcertainthatIwish to hear theremainder of this,” shesaid, only half meaningit.“A pity,” he answeredgrimly. “But you agreedto listen, and you shallhear it.”He studiedhersilently for a moment,then asked, “What is itthat has you flying intothe boughs? The

elopement? I know it isquite scandalous,but itwould have beenforgottenintime.”“Would it?” she asked,surprising even herselfwith the amount ofbitterness she felt asshe was suddenlyreminded of hermother’s elopement anditsrepercussions.“Why are you reactingthisway?”

He sounded genuinelypuzzled, and Jane bither lip as sheconsideredhisquestion.Was she reactingexcessively? After a fewminutes of innerstruggle,shewasforcedtoadmit thatshemightbe.Shaking her head, shesaid, “It is nothing. Ifear I am not very

rational when it comesto—Butyouwerequiteyoungat the time,wereyounot?Andyoumusthavebeencaughtbeforeyou could marry—atleast, you didn’t marryher,didyou?”“Oh, no,” he answeredsardonically.“I am surprised thather parents did notsimply condone yourmarriage once they

caught up with you.That way, the scandalwould have beenforgotten more quickly,or even preventedentirely. But I supposethe other man wasmuch wealthier thanyou.” Jane sighed andshookherheadagain.“Iwouldnothavethought,however, that he wouldstill want the poor girlafter that. What

happened? Were theyabletokeepwordoftheelopement from himuntil after they werewed?”St.Clairgavethemostcynical laugh Jane hadever heard. “My dear,you have not heard theworst. We were notcaught at all. It was Iwho took her back toher parents and toldthem Iwished them joy

ofher.”“GoodGod!” exclaimedJane, turning pale andstaringathim.Shewascertainnowthathewasnot going to deny anypartofthetale,andsheimagined the worst.Still, she felt she mustknow it all before shecould judge him. Sheleanedtowardshimandasked, “Whathappened?”

Her attention caughtup in his story, Janehad forgotten to holdthesheetupbeforeher,and now St. Clair torehisgaze fromwherethesoft lawn of her gownclearly showed theshape of her breasts.Clearing his throat, hesaid, “Yes, well, tocontinue my story, thejourney from London toGretna Green is a long

one, and I soondiscoveredthatIdidnotknow the young ladynearly so well as I hadthought.Sheturnedoutto be the Devil’s owndaughter, and beforewe’d gone halfway, wewereatdaggersdrawn.“Finally, one night, inthe midst of screaminginvective at me, she letit be known how shehad taken me in.

Everythingshehad toldmewasalie.Therewasno forcedmarriage to arepulsive old man. Intruth,shehadrunawaybecause she’d beenintimate with the headgroom and was nowcarrying his child. Shehad hit upon me as alikely candidate to bethe babe’s father. Thatwas when I took herhometoherparents.

“Ofcourseshethoughtshe had me well andtrulytrapped,andwhenshe found just howmistaken she was, shetook her revenge byinsisting to her parentsthat I was, indeed, thefather. Needless to say,theybelievedher.”“Oh dear,” said Jane.She knew that soundedwoefullyinadequate,butshewas so relieved she

scarcely knewwhat shewassaying.He laughed. “Indeed.Overnight, I foundmyself an outcast fromSociety as well asdisownedbymyfather.”“And I suppose youwere too full of pride totry to defend yourself,”shesaidquietly.“What! And furtherdamage the lady’sreputation? But to be

truthful, I did try toexplainthemattertomyfather, though I mightjust as well have savedmy breath. When evenhe believed that I hadravishedthegirl,gotherwith child, and refusedto marry her, I decidedthat he and Societycould go to the Devil. Icaught the first shipleaving port, which

happened to be boundforAmerica.”For all his flippancy,she knew how hurt hemust have been, andalso that he would notwelcomeany expressionof sympathy. Instead,shesaid,“Well! Idonotblameyouintheleast.”“Ah, but had I been atrue gentleman—and Iam the first to admitthat I am not—I would

have married her andmadethebestofit.”Shewrinkledhernose.“Perhaps, but had youdoneso,youbothwouldhave ended by beingutterly miserable, and Idoubt therewas a bestto be made of it. I feelsorry for the girl, butshe brought her owntroubles upon herselfand should not have

attempted to drag youintoit.No,hadIbeeninyour shoes, Iwouldnothave married her,either.Andonlythinkofthe marvelousadventures which youwould not otherwisehavehad.”“Oh, Jane,” he said,thelaughterbackinhiseyes, “you are a pearlbeyondprice.”“And you are an

outrageous flatterer,”sheretorted.He only shook hishead, and after a fewminutes, she said, “Isuppose you should begoing. It must be verylate.”“Not yet,”he said, andputhishandonherarmas though shewere theone needing to bedetained. “I have toldyou my sorry tale, and

nowIamcuriousaboutyours.Whyisitthatyoucan accept what mostpeople consider theunforgivable about me,yet you flew into theboughs when I firstmentioned elopement?Thatiswhatsetyouoff,isitnot?”Jane stared down atherhands,wishing thatshehadnotarousedhiscuriositybybehavingso

foolishly earlier. “I’msorry,” she murmured,“but,asIsaid,Iamnotvery rational on thatsubject.”He said nothing, butwas obviously waitingforhertocontinue.With a deep sigh, shesaid, “It was not somuch the mention ofyour elopement whichset me off, but yourremark that it would

eventually be forgotten.You see, my mothereloped with anotherman so I, too, knowwhat it is to be in themidstofascandal.AndI have learned thatwhere scandal isconcerned, Society canhave a very longmemoryindeed.’’“Ah,”wasallhesaid.Janestraightened,andlifted her chin, deciding

thatsinceshehadcomethis far, she might aswell tell him the whole.“My father ranted andraved, calling her allmanner of horriblenames...well, she hadalways been ratherfrivolous and fun-lovingand a trifle careless ofpropriety.Inanyevent,Imadeupmymind, thatday, to be all that shewas not. I thought that

ifnoonecouldsaythatI was like her in anyway, I could somehowprotect myself, and myfather would— But heonly became morereclusive and irascible.By the time I realizedthat itwasnot going tomakeadifference,beingthe proper MissLockwoodhadbecomeawayoflifeforme.”She suddenly gave a

forced little laugh. “Doyou know, I have neverspoken of this before.NotevenwithAgatha.”“Why? It might havebeen better for you ifyouhad.”“I suppose because itwas too painful and Iwas too ashamed.” Shetried to sounddetachedbut could not entirelykeep the rememberedanguishfromhervoice.

“Nowwhat is this?”heasked.“Whyshouldyoufeelshameforwhatyourmotherdid?”With a lightness shedid not feel, she said,“Oh, it is silly, I know,but I have always feltthat if I had beenmorewhatshewishedforinadaughter—prettier orperhaps more lovable—shewouldnothaveleft.”“My foolish girl,” he

said,holdingherby theshoulders and givingherasmallshake,“thatis the greatest piece ofnonsense I have everheard. It seems to methat if anyone was toblame, other than yourmother, it was yourfather. He sounds as ifhe was a verydisagreeable man, andthe two of themmismatched.”

Jane staredathim fora moment, wonderingwhy such a reasonableexplanation for hermother’s defection hadnever occurred to her.But then, she hadalways been too busyblaming herself to haveseen such an obvioustruth. One should notthinkillofthedead,butto say that her fatherhad been disagreeable

was understating thematter.With a small laugh,shesaid,“Doyouknow,I believe you are right.You were right aboutsomethingelse,too.Idofeel much better forhavingspokenofthis.”“Exactly so!” he saidwithagrin.In truth, Jane felt aslight as a feather, asthough a great weight

hadsuddenlybeenliftedfrom her. And, withoutthinking, sheimpulsively scrambledto her knees, threw herarms about his neck,and said fervently,“Thankyou!”Afterwards, she couldnot have related theexact progression ofevents, but she didrememberthathisarmshad tightened around

her, and then she waslying back on the bedwith St. Clair besideher, his mouthdescending towardshers. And all thosefluttering sensationswere back in her chestand stomach, but sheno longer thought ofthem as the least bitunpleasant.Far from protesting,sheraisedherownhead

eagerly to meet him—and their nosesbumped.With a small huff oflaughter, be said, “Tiltyour head a little,sweetheart.”She did, and hismouthmoulded to hersperfectly. She wasenjoying it very muchand was only a littlesurprised when histongue began teasing

theseamofherlips,butshe was more thanwilling to enjoy that,too.Andwhenheraisedhis head slightly andmurmured, “Open yourmouth forme, dearest,”she did so without athoughtforpropriety.In fact, Jane wasthinking very little. Allher awareness was ofthe wonderful,marveloussensationshe

wascreatinginherbodywith his mouth andhands. She felt asthoughshehadmadeamomentous discovery,andifshethoughtatall,it was to wonder ifanyone else had everexperienced thisastoundingthing.Andifthey had, why had itbeen kept such asecret?As he kissed her, his

right hand had beencaressing her arm andshoulder. Now it movedto her side and slidslowly down to her hipbefore moving upwardsagain with that sametantalizing slowness. Itstopped just below herbreast, and Jane heldher breath, knowingthat shewanted him totouch her there morethan anything in the

world.But he did not.Instead, he suddenlystiffened and pulledaway from her with amuttered curse, thenstoodandranhishandsthroughhishair.Confused, and feelingcold and bereft at hisabruptwithdrawal,Janestammered, “I—I’msorry.I...”Glancing back with a

harsh laugh, he said,“NotnearlysosorryasI.That should never havehappened, but at leastyou have learned avaluable lesson. Yousee,now,whatcomesofconsortingwitharake.”Jane was very glad, amoment later, that shestifled the protest thatrose to her lips, for ashe turned away again,hesaid,“TothinkthatI

wouldattempttoseduceevenyou!”Had he slapped herface,shecouldnothavebeenmoreshocked,butnothing could havebrought her to hersenses more effectively.Shesaidcoldly,“I thinkyou had better leavenow.”“Yes,” he agreed, andstrodetothedoor.Unable to lookathim,

she stared straightaheadasshelistenedtothe door open, thenwaited to hear it dose.But, when it did not,she finally turned herhead to see him gazingather.Hesaid,“Jane, I...”Hestopped and shook hisheadas ifhewouldsaysomething, but insteadhe turned abruptly andleftherroom.

Jane found herselfalone tosuffer thestingof rejection, as well asself-disgust, knowingthatnothingwouldhaveoccurred had she notthrownherselfathimsobrazenly.Shealsoknewthat, had he not foundtheattemptedseductionof her too distasteful tocontinue, she wouldhave done nothing tostop him. She was

forced to the bitterrealization that shewasher mother’s daughter,afterall.Over and over, as shelaysleeplessinherbed,her mind replayed theevents of the past hourwhile she wished withall her heart that shecould somehow changethem. And, over andover,shewonderedhowshewasgoingtofaceSt.

Clairinthemorning.

CHAPTERTWELVEAs it happened, whenmorning finally arrived,Janediscoveredthatherworries had been fornothing. When sheentered the breakfastroom, she found onlyAgatha and Alice there.She could not preventher eyes from going tothe empty chair whereSt.Clairusuallysat.

Agatha, who had beenwatching her closely,said baldly, “He isgone.”“Gone?”“St. Clair,” Agathaexplained. “He and thatodd man of his havetaken themselves off toEthridgeHall.”“Oh,” said Jane, goingto her chair and tryingdesperately to hide herdevastation. She

yearned to ask if theyhad gone to stay atEthridge Hall or if theyhad merely gone toinspectit.Butshedarednot, for fearofrevealingtoomuch.Herquestion,however,was answered whenAlicesighedandsaid,“Itwill be very dull herewithout him, eventhough he is not nearlysodashingas I thought

he would be. But Idaresay we shall seehim quite often, sincetheHallissocloseby.”For a moment, Janefelt the beginnings ofhope, but in the next,despair descendedagain. They would notsee him unless it cameabout by accident. Shehadseen to thatbyheractions last night. Shehad not only given him

adisgustofher,buthadruined all chances forany sort of relationshipbetween them—eventhatoffriendship.Agatha said withexaggeratednonchalance, “He saidthat since the Hall wasnow habitable, therewasno longer anyneedto take advantage ofyour hospitality. Ithought it very peculiar

that he should leave soabruptly and withoutthe least notice, but Isuppose he had hisreasons. Oh, and heasked me to thank you—foreverything.”Jane merely noddedand forced herself tofeigninterestinthefoodonherplate.Blithelyunawareoftheemotionalundertonesintheair,Aliceunwittingly

came to Jane’s rescuebychangingthesubject,although the new onewas only slightly morewelcome. She said, “Ican scarce wait tilltomorrow! I have notbeen to Leeds in anage!”Having completelyforgottenherpromisetotake Alice to Leeds onMonday, Jane was atfirst filled with dismay.

At the moment, shecould think of nothingshe wished less to do.But on second thought,she decided that itmight be the very thingfor her. She needed tokeep busy so that shewouldnothave time formoping. But today wasSunday, which wascustomarily the slowestdayoftheweek,andshestillmustgetthroughit

somehow.Immediately afterchurch and a coldnuncheon, she wassummoned to thecottages of two of hertenants, wherechickenpox had brokenout amongst thechildren.There shewaskept too occupied tothink of St. Clair—atleast, not more thanthree or four times an

hour.Hedidfillherthoughtson the way home,however, but in adifferent way.Surprisingly,bothofhertenants had mentionedhow favourablyimpressed they hadbeen by St. Clair-whenhehadvisitedthem.Shedidnotknowwhatthey meant by suchremarks, nor could she

fathomwhenorwhySt.Clair had visited hertenants. She was stillpuzzlingoverthematterwhen she went to bedthat night. And she fellasleepwith the thoughtthat most certainly shewould be seeing himagain after all, for shethought she had aperfectrighttoquestionhimonthesubject.She also fell asleep

withasmileonherlips.****

In the morning, shechafed at having todelay her confrontationwith St. Clair, but shecouldnotrenegeonherpromisetoAlice,andsoshe resigned herself tomaking the best of abad lot. She wouldspend the day in Leedswith Alice and do herutmost to enjoy it.

Tomorrow she wouldmost definitely pay acallatEthridgeHall.It would have beenimpossible to describetheshockshefeltwhen,stepping outside withAlice,shediscoveredSt.Clair standing besidethe carriage, talkingeasily with JohnCoachman.He turned as theyapproached and said,

“Thereyouare!Itistimewewereleavingifweareto reach Leeds beforenoon.”Janecouldnotpreventhermouth fromgaping,and he looked at herquizzically with thefamiliar laughter in hiseyes. “What is it?” heasked. “You look as ifyouhadseenaghost.”“But...but...” shespluttered. “I thought

youdidnotmean to gowithus.”“Certainly I do,” hereplied, as thoughnothing out of theordinary had occurredbetween them. “IthoughtIhadmadethatclearseveraldaysago.”“Yes, but...” Of courseshe could not completeherthoughtsaloud,andwassavedfromthinkingof another excuse for

her behaviour by Alice,who was growingrestive.“Oh, do let us go!”cried the girl, and shescrambled into thecarriagewithoutwaitingforassistance.With a grin, St. Clairhanded Jane in, thenclimbed in after her,closing the door behindthem.The carriage dipped

and swayed as JohnCoachman climbed tothe driver’s seat, and amomentlaterthevehiclerolledforward.For a time, theytravelled along at asedate pace, but it wasnot long before theygradually picked upspeed and were soonbowling along at aspankingclip.Withanamusedglance

at Jane, St. Clairremarked, “Yourcoachman seems tohave an inordinatefondnessforspeed.”Janeblushedandsaid,“Well, yes, but he isreally an excellentdriver.”“As I recall...” musedSt.Clair.Knowing full well thathe must beremembering how their

carriage had comehurtlingroundthebendthe day they had met,Jane said quickly, “IfearJohnwasnotquitehimselfthatday.”“You mean he was inhis cups? Still, I mustgivehimcreditforbeingafairmarksman.”“I have apologized forthat,” she said crossly.“Besides, had he notbeen in his cups, the

mishap would neverhaveoccurred.”“Oh, I would not havemissed it for the world.Except for a fewunpleasant aspects ofthe situation, I havereason to be grateful tothe man. After all, Imight not otherwisehavemetyou.”Shedidnotknowhowto take that, butsuspected him of being

sarcastic. With a swiftglanceatAlice,shesaidunder her breath, “Canwe not speak of this atanothertime?”“Byallmeans,”hesaidagreeably, and for theremainder of the tripamusedthemwithmoretales of his adventuresinAmerica.In Leeds, the daypassed with amazingswiftness. The morning

was taken up withporing over patternbooks at the modiste’s,choosingmaterials, andbeing fitted for newgowns. Jane had notintended having anymade for herself, butsoon convinced herself,with St. Clair’s help,that it was almost anecessity. He remindedher that at some point,no doubt, she would

wishtotakeAlicetotheassemblies either hereor in Harrogate, andtherefore it behoovedhertorefurbishherownwardrobe.She had expected thathe would become quitebored with the whole,lengthy process, but hegaveno indication of it.In fact, he seemed totake an extraordinaryamount of interest in

each step, studyingpatterns with them,suggesting materials,and insisting that Janetry styles which shewould not, ordinarily,havechosenforherself.His choices, of course,were of the latestfashion and far moredaring than anythingshe was used towearing. But Jane hadto admit, when the

materials were drapedroundherandpinnedinplace, they were ratherbecoming.While Jane and Alicewerebeingfitted,hesatconversing and jokingwithMadameEstelle.Intruth, he seemed so athome in the modiste’sshop that Jane couldn’tdecide whether to beirritatedoramusedbyitall.

She ended by orderingfar more clothes thanshe could comfortablyafford, but she wasdetermined not to ruinthis day with thoughtsof the economies shewould need to practiceto make up for herextravagance.After they leftMadameEstelle’s, it was time torepair to the inn for thelavish nuncheon which

St. Clair had orderedearlier. It proved to beso enjoyable that theylingered far longer thanthey should have, andJane declared that theyhad only time to visitone or two more shopsbefore heading back toMeadowbrook.Alice protestedvigorously, but Janeinsisted that they didnot wish to be on the

road after dark. Whenneither adult paid thegirl any heed, she soonresigned herself andtheystartedtowardstheshops. They werepassing a dim alleybetween two buildingswhen Jane heard anoddwhimpering comingfrom that direction. Itsounded like an injuredanimal, and, without athought for the dirt or

possible danger, Janeturned into the narrowspace.A short distance fromthe entrance, behindsome discarded boxes,she discovered a smallboy, curled upprotectively andseeminglyinsensible.Hewas dressed in mererags, filthy, and thin tothe point of emaciation,but itwasnot just that

which drew a shockedexclamation from her.Shediscoveredfarworsewhenshewentdownonher knees to examinehimmoreclosely.Her companions,naturally, had followedher,andJanelookedupintoSt.Clair’seyes.Shecried angrily, “Someonehas beaten this poorchild dreadfully, and...and he looks to be

coveredwithbums!’’“Oh, the poor thing,”said Alice, peering overJane’s shoulder. “Why,he’sonlyababy!”“Hardly that,” said St.Clair. “He is likelyolderthanhelooks.Chimney-sweeps keep theirclimbing boys on thepoint of starvation inorder to stunt theirgrowth so they will beusefulforalongertime.”

He sounded so calmand matter-of-fact thatJanewas about to takehim to task forhis lackof concern until shelooked up again andnoticed the grim line ofhismouth.“Is... is he alive?”whisperedAlice.“Just barely,” saidJane.“Buthewillnotbefor long if somethingisn’tdoneforhimsoon.”

“Here,” said St. Clair,“let me have him. Theinfirmary isnot far,butit is in the oppositedirection. As I shall beunable to escort youback to the inn, I fearyou will be obliged toaccompanyme.”“Youcouldnotstopmein any case!” declaredJane.“I thought as much,”answered St. Clair.

Then, lifting the small,pitifulbundle,hestrodeout of the alley anddown the street, withJaneandAlicehurryingafter him, all of themignoring the stares ofpassersby.St. Clair managedeverythingmagnificently, arrangingat the infirmary for theboytoreceivethebestofcare. But when they

finally made their wayback to the inn, wherethey had left thecarriage, daylight wasalreadywaning.Quite reasonably, St.Clair suggested thatthey delay their returnlong enough to havedinner, since it wasalready so late. Theydid, and by the timetheywerereadytoleave,fulldarknesshadfallen.

Just before enteringthe carriage, Janeapologized to John forhavingkepthimwaitingforsolong.“Oh, ‘twasno trouble,”he said airily, and thenhiccuppedloudly.Janecouldnot lookatSt. Clair. Once theywere settled in thecoach, he leanedtowards her and saidintoherear,“IfearJohn

Coachman is in hiscupsagain.”“Yes,” she agreed witha sigh. “But, even so, Iam certain that he willgetushomesafely.”“Mmm,” murmured St.Clair.It had been a tiringday, and they were allrathersubdued. In fact,Jane’s eyelids weregrowingheavywhenshe

noticedthattheswayingof the carriage hadalready lulled Alice tosleep.Seeingthisastheperfect opportunity toask St. Clair about hisvisitstohertenants,shesat up straighter andshookoffherlethargy.“Well, as a matter offact, Jane,” he saidcalmly in answer toherquestion, “I intended tospeaktoyouaboutthat

as soon as we had amoment’s privacy. Aftermaking a few enquiriesof your tenants, I havedischargedPhillips.”“Discharged!” sheexclaimed, her voicerising. “What do youmean you havedischargedhim?”“Keep your voicedown,” he said in hismaddeningly calm wayas he nodded towards

the sleeping Alice. “Imean I have sent himpacking, given him theboot.Inshort,Ihaveridyou of the thievingfellow.”“Well!” said Jane,finding it difficult toexpressthefullextentofher anger in a loweredvoice. “I should like toknowbywhatrightyoudid such a thing! Andwhat am I to do now,

with no one to managetheestate?Itellyou,St.Clair,youhavegonetoofar!”“Comedownoutoftheboughs, Jane,” herecommended. “My ownestate manager shouldhave no difficultylooking afterMeadowbrook until Ican find you areplacement.”Before she could

inform him that this inno way mollified her,there came a suddenshout fromoutside.Thecarriagewaspulledtoajolting halt, followedcloselyby thedeafeningexplosionofagunshot.Alice sat up with ajerk.“What?”“Ibelievethisisknownas déjà vu,” murmuredSt.Clair.

Thinking that hesounded entirely toononchalant, Jane senthim a swift,disapprovinglookbeforepeeringoutthewindow.She fully expected toseeaformsprawledouton the road. But, ofcourse, even if someonewere lying there, it wasfar too dark to seeanything beyond thevery limited area

illuminated by thecarriagelamps.Then a deep voice cutthroughthedarkness.“Isaid stand and deliver!And throw down thatpistol if you don’t wishtobehurt.”There came a thud asJohn hastened to beaccommodating, andthen someone movedinto the light. A ratherlarge someone, cloaked

in black, seated atop ahuge black horse andpointing his own pistoltowards John and thecarriage.This, most certainly,was the highwaymanJane had all but putfromhermindonceshediscovered St. Clair’strue identity. Theywereabout to be robbed byhim, unless St. Clair—Oh dear, she hoped he

would not attemptsomethingfoolish....

CHAPTERTHIRTEENWell, that had beenanother needless worry,Jane found herselfthinking as St. Clairhanded her down fromthe carriage a fewmoments later. Onewould have thoughtfromhis behaviour thatbeing robbed atgunpoint by ahighwayman was an

everyday occurrence.She didn’t know whyshe felt so vexed whenhe was merely fulfillingher hope that hewouldnot play the hero. Ofcourse she was glad ofthat, but on the otherhand, he needn’t havetaken everything socasually,either.When theywere all onthe ground, thehighwaymansaid,“Now,

sir,ifyouwillbesogoodas to hand me theladies’ reticules andjewels, and your ownpurse,too....”St.Clair tookone stepforward, and Alicemoved nearer to Jane,so that they were bothstanding close togetherbehindhim.He glancedback at thembutmadeno move to take thereticules they held out

to him. Instead, heturned back to thehighwayman and saidcalmly,“Ithinknot.”Jane’s heart leapt intoher throat and, on theinstant, she bitterlyregretted any wish shehad entertained that hemight not prove to becowardly.The highwaymanseemed to have beentaken aback, for he

remained silent forseveral moments. Butthenhewavedhispistolslightly and said,sounding ratherdesperate, “I don’t wishto harm anyone, but Ishallifyoudon’tdoasIsay.”“That would be quiteunwise,myfriend,”saidSt. Clair. “At this verymoment, there isanotherpistolpointedat

thebackofyourhead.”The highwayman gavea rather forced-soundinglaugh.“Agoodtrick, if I were foolenough to be taken inby it, but I’m not. Now,hand over yourvaluables and be donewithit.”St. Clair sighed andsaid,“Kearny?”Several thingshappened in rapid

succession. Anotherexplosion filled the air;the highwaymandropped his pistol andclutched his rightshoulder with his lefthand; the black horsedancedwith fright;and,losing his balance, thehighwayman fell to theground. He landedwitha loud thud and amoan, then fell silentandlayquitestill.

For amoment, no onemovedorsaidanything.Jane, feeling ratherdazed, thought that,except for a few minordetails, the whole thingseemeduncannilylikeareenactment of hermeeting with St. Clair.She almost expected tosee him lying there,bleeding on the ground,and shuddered at thethought.

She was brought backto reality as St. Clairsaid casually, “My dearman, you might havemerely fired a warningshotoverhishead.”Kearny guided hishorse into view, saying,“No sense takin’chances.Notwithladiesherean’all.”Scarcelyhearing them,Janesaid, “Ibelieve thepoor man has hit his

head and knockedhimselfsenseless.”Withthat, she brushed pastSt. Clair and hurriedtowardsthemanontheground.“Here now, ma’am!”Kearny exclaimed. “Youshouldn’t ought to dothat. Leastways, not tillone of us takes a look-see. He could just beplayin’possum.”Jane threw him a

puzzled glance but didnotstop.Sounding highlyamused, St Clair said,“You are wasting yourbreath, Kearny. I doubtyoucouldstopherevenwith that pistol. Thelady is irresistiblyattracted to thewounded. But if it willmake you feel better, Ido not think our friendcapable ofharmingher.

He no longer has hisweapon, and judgingfromthesoundhisheadmade when it hit theground,heislikelytobeunconscious for a goodlengthoftime.”Kearny shook hishead, and gazed at St.Clair with wonder. “Inall this time, I ain’tnever got used to thewayyoutalk.”Janerolledhereyesat

that, but by now shewasonherkneesbesidethe wounded man andallherattentionbecamefixed on determininghow badly he wasinjured. Without beingtold, John Coachmanhad brought one of thecarriagelanternstogiveherbetterlight.Alice, peering overJane’s shoulder,suddenly giggled and

said, “So this is Papa’s‘devilish rogue.’ Hedoesn’t look so devilishor roguish to me. Infact, he looks rathernice.”Until then, Jane hadbeen concentrating onthe man’s woundedarm, but now shelookedup.Withhishatnolongerhidinghishairorface,shesawthathewas fairlyyoung,blond,

and fair of skin. And,indeed, he did not lookintheleastlikeavillain.St.Clairlookedfarmoredangerous.“Fortunately, heappearstohavenomorethan a flesh wound,”she said. “Of course, itmust still be cleansedandbandaged,butIammore worried about apossible head injury.”She paused, biting her

lip. “I wish I had mybasket of medicamentswithme!But, as Ihavenot, there is only onething to be done. Wemust get him into thecarriageandtakehimtoMeadowbrookwithus.”“Oh, no! You shallnot,” St. Clair informedherquitefirmly.Suddenly remindedthat they were notdealing with a

respectable man, Janerealized that St Clairwould be planning toturn him over to theauthorities.Looking up at him indismay, she exclaimed,“Oh,but,Jon,onlylookat him! Indeed, he doesnot look likeacriminal.You cannot have himarrested without givinghim a chance toexplain.”

In her distress, shewas unaware how shehadaddressedhim.Sheonly knew that hisexpressionunaccountablysoftened.With a slight smile hesaid, “No, I have notmadeupmymindastothat, but in themeantime,heshall stayat Ethridge Hall, not atMeadowbrook. I shallnot have you wearing

yourselftoathreadandfurther damaging yourreputation by caring foranother wounded manin your home. And thisonenotevenacousin.”“But—”shebegan.“No, don’t argue,” heinterrupted her. “I haveservantsattheHallwhowill see thathe receivescare.Andyoumay visithim as often as you

wish,ashisphysician.Isee no harm in that,sincehis wound is in aperfectly innocuousspot.”“Jon!”sheexclaimedinanundertone.Glancing round, andfinding that the othershad moved sufficientlyfaraway,hemurmured,“Do you know, I havenever cared for that

name before, but I likehearing it upon yourlips.”Fortunately, thedarknesshelpedtohideher fieryblush.At leastshe hoped it did. In anattempt to hide herdiscomposure, shestood, brushed herskirts and said briskly,“Well, we must notstandabout likethisallnight. John, if you and

Mr. Kearny will be sogood as to lift ourpatientintothecarriage,wemaybeonourway.”She could not bringherself to look at St.Clair again but wascertain that if she did,she would discover thefamiliar laughter there.He was trulyincorrigible, shethought, and her ownlipstwitchedslightly.

But then she frownedas she was struck bythe thought that shewas allowing herself tofall evermore deeply inlovewithhimwhensheought to know better.Flirtation, she knew,came as naturally tohim as breathing. Shemustacceptthatandbegratefulhewasstillherfriend. To allow herselftobeginhopingformore

wouldbefoolishbeyondpermission.When they were allsettled in the carriage,the exertions andstresses of the daybegan to makethemselves felt, and noone seemed inclined tospeak.Butaftera time,Jane roused herselfenough to say, “Isuppose it was veryfortunateforusthatMr.

Kearnyturnedupashedid.”St. Clair laughed.“Good fortune hadnothing to do with it. Iknewhewouldbecloseby. I once made themistake of doing thefellow a good turn andnow I cannot ridmyselfof him. Not that hedoesn’thavehisuses.Infact, I have grownalmostfondofhim.”

Alice giggled. “A goodturn! I’ll wager yousavedhislife.”St. Clair shrugged. “Itis a long story, andboring,toboot.”As he seemeddisinclined to enlargeupon the subject,neither of hiscompanions questionedhimfurther.The remainder of theirjourney was

accomplished inrelativesilence.And,despiteherbest intentions, bothmedical and otherwise,bythetimetheyreachedMeadowbrook,Janewasutterly exhausted—soexhausted, in fact, thatshe could scarcelythink, let aloneremember goodintentions.Sheacceptedwithout demur,therefore, St. Clair’s

opinion that it wasunnecessary for her tomake the trip toEthridgeHallthatnight.He assured her that hehimself would cleansethe man’s wound,disinfect it according toher directions, andbandageit.But, in spite of herweariness, when hehanded her down fromthecarriageanddidnot

immediately release herhand, she stood gazingat him idiotishly. Sheevenfeltherselfswayingtowards him until hefinally freed her hand,and clearing his throat,said, “Well, I shall wishyou a good night, mydear.”She nodded andfollowed Alice into thehouse,knowingthatshehad come near to

makingacakeofherselfoncemore,buttootiredto care. It did seem toher that he had beenequally disinclined topart,butverylikelythatwas merely wishfulthinking. Exhaustioncoulddopeculiarthingstoone’smind.

****Jane became evenmoreconvincedthatshehad imagined his

reluctance to leave herwhen she arrived atEthridge Hall thefollowing morning. St.Clair greeted her inquitehisusualmanner,friendly but casual,before taking herupstairs to see herpatient.Theyoungman,whosename, she learned, wasGeorge Davies, wasawake.Thoughhewasa

trifle pale and admittedtoaslightheadache,beseemed not to besuffering fromconcussion. Jane soondiscovered, however,thathewas exceedinglyshy.Whileitwasrefreshingto meet someone whoblushed more easilythan she had beendoing of late, hisdiffidence made

conversation uphillwork. After a fewunsuccessful attemptsat drawing him out,Jane gave up and tookrefuge in her role asphysician.There, too, she wasquickly brought to astandstill. St. Clair haddoneanexcellent jobofcaringforthewound,sothatall thatwas left forhertodowastoapplya

fresh bandage to it andadvise Mr. Davies torest. After which, shemadeahastyretreat.The whole had takenbarely a quarter of anhour. Jane was morethan a littledisappointed, forwithout a patientneeding her care, shewould have no furtherexcuse for visitingEthridge Hall. However,

today at least, she hadreason to linger. Therewere still one or twomatters she needed todiscusswithSt.Clair.Shewashalfwaydownthe staircase andwondering where hemight be, when hestepped out of a roomon the far side of theentryhallbelow.Withhiseyes laughingup at her, he said, “I

thought itwouldnotbelong. How did you findyourpatient?”“Well,” she answeredcautiously, “he seemsquite fit, but one cannever be sure aboutthesethings.”“Oh, I agree,” he saidsolemnly. “With injuriessuch as his, one canneverbetoocareful.”She looked at him

sharply, stronglysuspecting that he wasteasing her, but shemerely nodded andcontinued down thestairs.When she reached thebottom, he said, “Comeinto the library. I wishto talk with you aboutthe business ofMeadowbrook. I feel Ioweyouamoredetailedexplanation regarding

my discharging ofPhillips.”“AsdoI,”shetoldhim,sweeping through thedoubledoors.She noticed that hecarefully left the doorsajar when he followedher in, but by then, ithadcome toher for thefirst time that she wasactually inside EthridgeHall.Standinginthemiddle

ofthehuge,rectangularroom,sheslowlyturnedround, taking in all thedetails. It did notdisappoint her. It waseverything she hadimagined,andmore.Oppositethedoorswasan enormous fireplaceoverwhichhungalargeoilpaintingofacountryscene. Both fireplaceand doors were flankedby more paintings and

shelves of books.Bookslined a third wall aswell, and in the fourth,floor-to-ceiling windowslet in abundantdaylight. Two exquisitechandeliers and severalcandelabraensuredthatthe room would alwaysbe well lit. A beautifulAubusson carpetcoverednearlythewholeexpanse of the floor.Scattered about the

delightful room weregroupings of sofas,chairsandsmalltables.With a sigh, Jane atlast turned to St. Clairand said, “Oh, it isperfect!Ifyouknewhowoften I have fantasizedaboutthishouse...”Shestopped,feelingtheheatof a blush rising in hercheeksagain.But St. Clair seemedpleased. “Iamveryglad

that you approve. It ismy favourite room, andin fact, the first I haddone, after thebedchambers andkitchens. I shan’t giveyou a tour, however,until the entire place isfinished, for I shouldn’twish you to bedisappointed.”“I doubt I should be,”sherepliedwithasmile.“Nevertheless, I shall

wait.”He then gesturedtowards one of theseating areas. She satdown at one end of asofa, while St. Clairchose a chair set atrightanglestoit.“Beforeweget into thematter ofMeadowbrook,” Janesaid quickly, “I shouldliketothankyou.”He raised his

eyebrows.“Forwhat?”“For not turning thehighwaymanovertotheauthoritiesimmediately.”He grinned. “Howcould I show lesscompassion than you?Afterall,youdidnotcryrope on me when youthought me to be theculprit.”“Yes, well...” shemuttered, and, of

course,sheblushed.“To be perfectlytruthful,” he said moreseriously,“Ihadanotherreason for not turninghimin.”“Oh?”“Yes, rampantcuriosity,” he admittedwith another grin. “Notonly did the fellow lookto be the least likely inthe world to be acriminal,buthisspeech

indicated a certainamountofbreedingandeducation.”“Yes, I noticed that,too,” she said eagerly.“What do you make ofit?”“Well, to begin with, Ithoughtitprobablethathis storywas similar tothe one you attributedtomewhenyouthoughtI was the highwayman.And, in fact, I have

learned since that atleastaportionofitis.”“Do you mean to saythat he has actuallytalked to you? I couldscarcely get a word outofhim.”“He is a trifle shy—which, again, is notwhat one would expectof a highwayman—butperhaps that conditionismoreapparent in the

companyoffemales.”“Most likely,” sheagreed, alreadybeginning to fashion ahistory for Mr. Davies.“He seems very young,andperhapshismotherdiedatanearlyage,andhehadno sisters, so isunusedto...”She stoppedwhen shenoticedaslow,knowingsmile beginning to formon St. Clair’s lips, and

said quickly, “But whatdidhetellyou?”“It seems that ourhighwayman, whom Ithink we should beginreferring to as Mr.Davies,wasbornonthewrong side of theblanket. His father wasamember of the gentryand quite wealthy, andto his credit, heacknowledged the boy,rearing him on his

estate and having himeducatedalongwithhisotherchildren.“Unfortunately, theother children were notsoinclinedtoacceptMr.Davies, and when thefather stuck his spooninthewall,theheirgaveour hero the boot. Mr.Davies then enlisted inthe army and managedto survive to the end ofthe war. It is the

remainder of the storywhich you will findfamiliar.“Upon returning toEngland, he could notfind gainfulemployment, and beinga resourceful youngman, he turned to thelifeofahighwayman.”“Well,” said Jane, “asyouoncesaid,Iamsurehe preferred that tobegging. In any event, I

do not think we shouldturnhimin.”“No,” St. Clair agreed.“As a matter of fact, Ibelieve I may have amuchbettersolutionforhim.”“Oh?Whatisthat?”But he smiled andshook his head, saying,“It is early days yet tospeakof it. I shallneedmore information fromMr. Davies before I

makeadecision.And,ofcourse,hemustagreetotheplan,too.”“Very well,” said Jane.“I shall leave theproblemofMr.Daviestoyou, so long as I neednot worry about himbeing hanged.” Shepaused and caught herlower lip between herteeth. “And since he isdoingsowell, IsupposeI need not worry about

him inamedicalsense,either, which means itwillnotbenecessaryforme to look in on himeveryday.”“Howcanyousayso?”he asked. “It is quitepossible that he mayexhibit delayedsymptoms ofconcussion. I haveknown such things tohappen—in the army,youknow.”

“Ofcourse!”saidJane.“I had not thought ofthat. Well, then,” sheadded cheerfully, rising,“Ishallseeyouagaininthemorning,ifIamnotneededsooner.”“Oh, but you cannotleave yet,” he told her.“My chef has gone to agreat deal of troublepreparing us anexcellent nuncheon.And you know how I

hatetoeatalone.”Itdidnottakemuchtopersuade her, for ofcourse,shedidnotwishtooffendSt.Clair’schef.And the repast wasindeed excellent. Janeenjoyed it very much,but she enjoyed St.Clair’s company evenmore.They spoke of allmanner of things, frompoor Beau Brummell’s

flight from England toescape his creditors, totheoddSiouxcustomofrubbing noses ratherthan kissing, which hehad observed inAmerica.“However,” St. Clairinformed her, “when Ileft, many of them hadalready accepted ourcustom in preference totheirs, and with greatenthusiasm, I might

add.”Having drunk twoglassesofwinewith themeal, Jane shook herhead at him and saidwithmockseverity,“Youare attempting to putme to the blush again,St.Clair.”“How did you guess?’’he asked with laughingeyes.“Very easily,” sheretorted. “I am

beginning to know youquitewell,yousee.”It was, perhaps,fortunate that, in theprocess of rising fromthe table, she did notnotice the look he gaveher.Astheymovedtowardsthe door together, shesaid, “I have enjoyedthisverymuch,butnowI really must go. PoorAgathawill thinkIhave

runaway.”“I doubt poor Agathawill worry overmuch,”hemurmured,with justatouchofsarcasm.Butshe was several stepsaheadofhim,andwhensheaskedhimtorepeathis words, he saidblandly, “I doubt thatAgatha will worry. Afterall, she knows whereyouare.”“Yes,butIhavestayed

much longer than Imeant to do. Sir Alfredcalled just before I left,and I fear that he andAgatha may come toblows if they are leftalone too long.So, dearsir, I shall bid youfarewell, untiltomorrow.”He did not attempt todissuadeheragain,andJane was soon ridinghome, filled with a

remarkable sense ofwell-being. She wasalmost at her doorstepbefore she rememberedthat they had never gotround to discussingMeadowbrook orPhillips.But, after a moment,she shrugged thatconcern away. Therewas always tomorrow,she thought, andstepped lightly into the

house.

CHAPTERFOURTEENThe next morning,after a brief visit withher patient, Jane andSt. Clair finally gotround to discussingMeadowbrook andPhillips.Janewasshockedandchagrined when shelearnedhowPhillipshadbeen cheating her forthepastfouryears.But

there could be nomistaking the matter.St.Clairshowedherthevast difference betweenthe account books keptwhile her father stilllivedandthoseafterhisdeath.Andheexplainedjust how the man haddoneit.“I feel like such aninny,” she said with agreat deal of self-disgust. “I have always

prided myself on myintelligence, but not tohave seen what washappening!”“How should you haveseenit?”St.Clairasked.“Phillips isaverycleverman—I’llgranthimthatmuch. And, from allthat Ihaveheardaboutyourfather,Idoubtthatyou received anytraining in estatemanagement.”

“No,” she admitted.“What little Idoknow,Itaughtmyself.ButIseenowthatthereisagreatdeal more to it than Ithought.”“Indeed,“saidSt.Clair.“Well,” said Jane, “Ishall simply have tolearn more about thematter. Idonotwishtoimpose, but would youhelp me? Perhaps youcould lend me some

booksonthesubject.”“Gladly, but I shall dobetter than that,” hereplied. “It is alwaysgood foranowner tobeknowledgeable, butwhat you really need isanother bailiff. Thistime, one who is bothreliableandhonest.”“Yes,” agreed Janeslowly. She caught herlower lip in her teeth,wonderinghowshewas

going to accomplishthat.“Ishalltakecareofit,”saidSt.Clair.She immediatelybristled. “I am perfectlycapable of solving myownproblems,St.Clair.Ihavebeenindependentforfouryears.”“I’venodoubtofit,”hereplied. “And I admireyou tremendously, Ipromiseyou.Butat the

moment your plate isfull, what withmanaging yourhousehold, caring forthe ill of the district,andattempting tobringAlice up to snuff. Whyshould you go to thetrouble when I amperfectlywilling to do itforyou?Youmustallowmetodothisserviceforyouasyour...friend.”“Well,when youput it

that way...” said Jane.She wondered why hisaffirmation of theirfriendship should leaveher feeling less thanhappy.“Good girl!” he said,then added, “As amatter of fact, I alreadyhave someone in mindfortheposition.”“Oh?Who?”“I’drathernotsay justnow, incase itdoesnot

work out. But it doeslookverypromising.”“Very well,” said Jane.“Ishall leavethemattertoyou.”Shestronglysuspectedwhat he had in mind,but decided to pretendignoranceandallowhimto go about this in hisownway.And,whenhetoldherthatMr.Davieswas his candidate forthe job, she would act

surprised and pleased.She had some troublesuppressingasmile, forthe incongruity of theterms “reliable andhonest” as applied to aretired highwayman didnotescapeher.True to his word, St.ClairsuppliedJanewithseveral weighty tomesfrom his library, thenlaughed at her look ofdismay. Fortunately,

shewasnot required towade through them atonce,forheproposedtospend the succeedingdays riding with herover both her land andhis own in order toteach her the basics ofestatemanagement.They began herinstruction that sameday. Even so tedious abusiness proved to beenjoyable, for St. Clair

made it interesting bytelling humorousanecdotes andfascinating bits ofagriculturalhistory.“How is it that youknowsomuchaboutallthis?” she asked at onepoint.“Iwouldnothavethought aman such asyou...” She stopped,realizing that shemightbeinsultinghim.Buthemerelylaughed.

“Youmean a rake suchasI?Asamatteroffact,I surprise myself, but Isuppose I must haveabsorbed more than Iknewwhilegrowingup.”It was late afternoonwhen St. Clair called ahalt to theday’s lesson.Jane was surprised athow quickly the hourshad flown. She had soenjoyedherself thatshehated topart fromhim,

and she was delightedwhen he insisted uponescorting her back toMeadow-brook.Shewasevenmorepleasedwhenhe accepted herinvitationtocomeinfortea.Theyenteredthehouseto hear a familiarbooming voice. “If thatain’t exactly like afemale! It just goes toshow that you know

nothing about thematter.”Jane and St. Clairstopped in thedrawing-roomdoorwayasAgatharetorted, “I know thatyour fat friend will bethe ruination of thiscountry if he continueswith his extravaganceand his dissipatedways!”“Fat friend!” cried SirAlfred, clearly outraged.

“Nowyouhavegone toofar,woman.‘Twasthosevery words helped putthe finishing touch toBrummell’sdownfall.”“Oh, good heavens,they are at it again,”murmured Jane, andshe hurried into theroom.Catching sight of her.Sir Alfred beamed andsaid,“Ah,thereyouare,mydear.Asightforsore

eyes,Imustsay.”He was struggling torise from his place onthe sofa and, althoughhisfootwaslessheavilybandaged today, Janemadehastetostophim.“Pray, do not try to getup. Sir Alfred. I knowyour gout must bepaining you, so I shallexcuse you from suchgallantry.”He sank back with

obvious relief, butassured her, “Oh, theblasted thing is muchbetter.Agathahasbeenusing one of yourmiraclecuresonme.”He beamed at Janeagain, then gesturedtowards St. Clair. “Gladto see you, my boy.Come here and see ifyou can set this hen-wittedwomanstraight.”Saunteringfurtherinto

the room, St. Clairrested one arm alongthe mantle. “Now howamItoanswerthat,sir?In truth, I see no hen-wittedwomanhere.”“Oh, very well. I shallown that Agatha ain’tpea-brained, but shehassomedamnedqueernotions in that head ofhers.”“Ifyouwishtostayfortea, Alfred,” warned

Agatha, “you will watchyourlanguage.”“Now what did I say?”hedemanded.Hoping to avertanotherquarrelbetweenthem, Jane asked,“What is it that youthink Agatha does notunderstand.SirAlfred?”“She don’t understandthat Prinny’s memorialtotheStuartswon’tcostthe government a cent.

Youtellher,St.Clair.”“Actually, he is right,”St. Clair admittedruefully. “Francewill bepayingforit.”“Perhaps,” saidAgathadoubtfully as shescowled at Sir Alfred.“But what about hisendless renovations toCarltonHouse and thatmonstrosity inBrighton? You will not

tell me those are notdrainingthetreasury!”Fortunately, Melroseentered the room justthenwiththeteatray.Sir Alfred patted theplacebesidehimonthesofa and said to Jane,“Come here and tellmewhat you have been upto,mydear.Agathawillpourforus.”JanemissedSt.Clair’sslight frown as she

obliginglysatdownnextto the squire. Ratherthan telling him abouther day, however, shelooked round andasked,“WhereisAlice?”“Oh,”saidAgatha,“sheisspendingthedaywithher friend Clarissa. Ithoughtthebreakwoulddohernoharm.”Jane merely nodded,momentarily wonderingif she should feel guilty

for neglecting the girlwhen in fact she didnot.The conversation thenturned to lesscontroversial topics. Ashort time laterMelroseagain entered the roomtosay,“Pardonme,MissJane, but a messagehasjustarrivedforLordSt.Clair.”Frowning again, St.Clair crossed the room

and took the slip ofpaperfromthebutler.“I hope it is not badnews,”saidJane.“No, but I fear I musttakemy leave of you. Itseems that I haveacquired someunexpectedguests.”Jane did not knowwhat to make of hisexpression. She couldnotdecide if the look inhis eyes was one of

angerorexcitement.She walked with himto the door, and theywaited on the steps forhis horse to be broughtround. He seemedpreoccupied. Shesupposed thathismindwasonhisvisitors.Shewondered who theymightbe,buthedidnotoffertotellher,andshecould not bring herselftoask.

She was completelytaken aback when hesuddenly turned to herand demanded, “Is thatdamned fellow hereeveryday?”Sheblinked.“Who?”“SirAlfred.”“Of course not.Besides,ithasbeenbuta few days since hisreturnfromBrighton.”“And I’ll wager he hasspentmost of that time

at Meadowbrook. Doeshe take his meals withyou,too?”“Well, sometimes,” sheadmitted, wonderingwhat on earth all thiswas about. “But youmust remember that itcannot be verycomfortable at theManor with so many ofhisservantsaway.”“I saw how he fawnedoveryoutoday.Theman

is dangling after you,Jane,andIdonotthinkit wise to encouragehim.”Jane gaped at himbefore bursting intolaughter. “GoodGod,StClair! How can you beso absurd? That is justhis way. In any case, ifhe is dangling afteranyone,itisAgatha.”“Now who is talkingnonsense?Youknowas

wellasIthatthetwoofthemrubalongtogetherlikeacatandadog.”“Yes,” she agreed,looking thoughtful, “butdo you know, I ambeginningtobelievethattheyactuallyenjoytheirbickering.”JacksonappearedthenwithSt.Clair’shorse,sotheir conversation wasbrought to a close. St.Clair swung into the

saddle and said tersely,“I shall see youtomorrow.”Jane watched him asheurgedAchilles intoacanter and disappeareddown the drive. Shewishedtheirpartinghadbeen a trifle moreamicable. Now that hehad friends at the Hall,she doubted that hewould have time tospend tutoring her.

Nevertheless, heobviously expected hertocontinuehercallsonher patient, and shebreathedasighofrelief.

****AsherodetowardstheHall, St. Clair’s moodwas far from amiable.As if he did not haveenough problems, whatwith Lydia finallychasinghimdown—andapparently bringing a

houseful of companywithher—nowhemustworry about that oldreprobatemaking up toJane.Jane might say whatshe liked, but he hadseen the way Sir Alfredlooked at her, and Godhelp him, St. Clair wasfully aware of just howdesirable she was. Heonly hoped that he hadgiven her food for

thought so that shewould not unwittinglyleadtheoldsquireon.As he drew nearer toEthridge Hall and thewoman awaiting himthere, another thoughtstruckhim.Whatwouldhappen when Jane andLydiamet?He gritted his teeth,cursedunderhisbreathandrodeon.

CHAPTERFIFTEENIt was with sometrepidation that Janecalled at Ethridge Hallthenextmorning toseeMr. Davies. Despite St.Clair’s parting words,she had begun to feelthat she was on shakyground with thesecasual visits to hishome. She was wellaware that some people

might view them asimproper.In addition, althoughshe was still curiousaboutSt.Clair’sguests,she had decided thatthey must all be verywitty, worldly,interesting, and stylish.In short, all the thingsshewasnot.Ithadalsooccurred to her that,since he was such anotorious rake, his

friends might not movein the first circles ofSociety. Whatever thecase,shefearedthathewould see her in a lessfavourable light bycomparison.The house seemedremarkably quiet whenshewasadmittedbythebutler and shownup toMr. Davies’s chamber.She wondered at thisuntil she recalled that

members of thefashionable world didnot seek their beds tilldawn and seldom rosebefore noon. Even St.Clair, who was usuallythere to greet her, wasnowhereabout,andshecould only assume thathe had reverted toLondonhours.She tried to ignoreherdisappointment as shefussed over Mr. Davies,

changing his dressingand seeing to hiscomfort.Herpatientstilldisplayed a strongtendency towardsblushing, but he wasgradually becoming lessreserved in herpresence,whichmadeiteasier to prolong hervisitwithhim.Even so,itwas far shortofnoonwhenshemadeherwayback downstairs, and

shewas resigned to theunlikelihood of seeingSt. Clair or his friendstoday. It therefore cameas a most agreeablesurprise to find himawaitingherintheentryhall.Doingher best to hideherpleasureatthesightof him, she said, “Goodmorning, St. Clair. Ihave just come fromseeingMr.Davies.”

“Andhowdid you findhimthismorning?”“Very well,” she toldhim. “He is evenbeginning to lose someofhisshynesswithme.”St.Clairmerelysmiled,and taking her arm,asked,“Shallwego?”“Go?” she repeatedblankly.He cocked a brow ather.“Haveyouforgottenour project? I was to

acquaint you with thebasics of estatemanagement, was Inot?”“Yes, but I shall nothold you to that nowthat youhave guests toentertain.”“Oh, I think I canspare you an hour ortwo. Besides, I feel noobligation to providethem withentertainment, since

they came withoutinvitation.”Jane was not going toarguewithhim.Shewastoodelightedtodiscoverthat her lessons werenot to be discontinuedafterall.They rode for a timewithoutspeaking,but itwas not the easy,companionable silencethey had sometimesshared. In fact, he

seemed so preoccupiedthat she finally said, “Apenny for yourthoughts,St.Clair.”Smiling ruefully, heanswered, “I fear theyare not worth even somuchasthat.”After a brief hesitationshe asked, “Do theyconcernyourfriends?”A slight frownappearedonhisbrow.“Ibelieveitwouldbemore

accurate to describethemasacquaintances.”Jane did not knowwhat to make of thatbut, since she did notwish todisplayavulgarcuriosity by questioninghim further, she saidnothing.For a time, St. Clair,too, refrained fromspeaking. Then hesuddenlypulledAchillesto a halt and turned

towardsher.Jane drew up besidehim and looked at himenquiringly.“Jane,” he began,“about these guests ofmine...”“Yes?”He ran his fingersthrough his hair.“Actually,whatIwishtotellyouconcernsoneofthem in particular. She—”Hestoppedabruptly,

andtheybothturnedatthe sound of a rapidlyapproachinghorse.Jane thought sheheard him mutter,“Damnation,” under hisbreath,butshewas toostunned by what shesaw to heed hisreaction.The rider of the horsewas a female. Anextremely beautifulfemale, with red-gold

hair, vivid green eyes,and a flawlesscomplexion. Her figure,too, was superb, and itwas shown off to greatadvantage by hermodish riding habit. Tomake matters worse,she was petite. Lookingat her, Jane suddenlyfelt like a homelygiantess.ThispieceofperfectionreinedinbesideAchilles

and said playfully, “Forshame, St. Clair! Onewould almost think youwereattemptingtoavoidme.”“I hardly expected youto be up and about soearly,Lydia,”hereplied.“Usually I amnot, butIfinditquitedifficulttosleep when in thecountry. The appallingquietkeepswakingme.”Hegaveashort laugh.

“PerhapsIshouldhireahackney coach to drivetoand frobeneathyourwindow as Alvanleyonce did for a friendwith the samecomplaint.”“Oh, what a delightfulnotion! Yes, I think youshould do that for me,St.Clair.”Suddenly seeming torecall his manners, St.Clair said, “Lydia, you

must allow me tointroduce you to myneighbor, JaneLockwood. Jane, this isLadyCathcart.”“How do you do, mylady,”Janesaidpolitely.After quickly taking inJane’s appearance fromhead to toe, LadyCathcart offered her acondescending smile.“Do call me Lydia,” shesaid. Then, glancing

from St. Clair to Jane,she added, “I hope youwill not mind if I joinyouforyourride.”“As amatter of fact...”beganSt.Clair.Atthesametime,Janeexclaimed, “Oh, I wasmerely consulting withSt.Clair on amatter todo withmy own estate,butaswearefinished,Ireally must be going. Itwas lovelymeeting you,

Lydia. And thank youfor your advice, St.Clair.”Having already turnedherhorsebeforethelastwords left her mouth,Jane rode away asquickly as she couldwithout giving theimpression of unduehaste.Fromthefirst,shehadknown that her love forSt. Clair was hopeless,

but now that truth hadbeen brought home tohermoreforcefullythanever. And it wassurprisingly painful,given that she thoughtshehadrelinquishedallexpectations save thoseof friendship. Well,apparentlyshehadbeenwrong. Obviously shehad still beenentertaining impossibledreams, but she could

nolongerdeludeherself.What man in his rightmind would chooseplain Jane Lockwoodover the beautiful LydiaCathcart?She arrived atMeadowbrook inastateof despondency whichshedidherbesttohideupon entering thehouse. There shediscovered Sir Alfred inthe midst of another

argumentwithAgatha.Thetwobrokeofftheirdispute to greet Jane,and Agatha demanded,“Well? Did you discoverwho St. Clair’s guestsare?”Jane sat down beforeanswering, “No, but Ididmeetoneofthem—aLadyCathcart.”“Ah,” said Sir Alfredknowingly. “Heard shewas after him, which

goes to prove I wasright. A man can beforgiven anything if hehasenoughblunt.”“Who is she, Alfred?”askedAgatha.“OldAlgernon’swidow.Married the earl whenhe was at his lastprayers and did verywellforherself.”Agatha sniffed. “Isupposesheisnobetterthansheshouldbe.”

“No, no,” he assuredher. “A trifle fast, butvery good ton for allthat. No, ‘tis marriageshe’s after, thoughthere’s no saying butwhat she might settlefor less if she fails tobring him up to themark.”Jane stood abruptlyand asked in a slightlystrangled voice, “WhereisAlice?”

“She is in the garden,practicing her water-colours,”saidAgatha.Jane was alreadyhalfwayacrosstheroomas she told them, “Ibelieve I shall go andsee how she is comingalong.”Agatha merely noddedbefore saying, “Now tellmethis,Alfred...”Thankfully,Janeheardnomore.She longedfor

a period of solitude inorder to untangle herchaotic thoughts but,knowing that she hadbeen neglecting Alice oflate, she dutifullymadeher way to the garden.She spent whatremainedofthemorningwiththegirl,anditwasnotuntilearlyafternoonthatshewasabletofindtimeforherself.She had scarcely

entered her chamber,however, when Melrosecame to say that LordSt. Clair was below,asking forher.Her firstimpulse was to denyherself to him but shequickly decided againstthat.Shemustfacehimsooner or later and shedoubted thatpostponement wouldmake theirmeeting anyeasier. Her best course

of action would be totreat him in the samefriendly manner asalways, no matter howdifficultthatmightbe.In fact, it proved tobeeasier than she hadexpected.“St.Clair,”shesaid upon reaching theentry hall. “This is asurprise.Ididnotthinktoseeyouagaintoday.”Takingbothherbandsin his, he replied, “No,

but I contrived to sendeveryoneofftoLeedsforthe remainder of theday,sowemaytakeupwhere we left off thismorning.”She hesitated butcouldthinkofnoexcusethathewouldnoteasilycounter. Besides,unwise though it was,she wanted to be withhim. She finally said,“Very well. I shall only

be a few minutes,” andshe hurried upstairs tochange back into herridinghabit.They ended theafternoon on the veryspot where they hadheldtheirpicnic.Andif,whenheliftedherdownfrom her saddle, he lefthishandsonherwaistatrifle longer thannecessary, it was notlong enough for her to

take exception to. Notthat she would havedonesoinanycase,sheadmittedtoherself.To banish thatthought, she saidbrightly, “Oh, what aperfectending,St.Clair.You remembered thatthis is one of myfavouriteplaces.”Hemerelysmiledasheremoved his coat andspread it on theground

for her to sit on. And,though Jane made atoken protest, sheaccepted withoutcomment his avowalthat it was an oldgarment which wouldnotbeharmed.Hesatdownbesideherthen,andJanescarcelynoticed the silencewhich fell betweenthem, for she washearing her own words

of a fewminutes earlierrepeatedinhermind.Whenshehadspoken,she had meant that itwasaperfectwaytoendthe day, but she knewthat more than justtheir day together wasending. That would betrue even if LadyCathcart had notarrivedonthescene.St. Clair had taughther all that it was

necessary for her toknow,andshecouldnolongeruseMr.Daviesasan excuse for visitingthe Hall. His mind wasas clear as a bell, andhe had not complainedof the headache sincethat first day.Even shecould not continuepretending that hiswound was anythingotherthanascratch.Moreover,St.Clairhad

discovered that, havingbeen reared on hisfather’s estate, Mr.Davies knew a greatdeal about estatemanagement. So, whenthe position atMeadowbrook wasoffered to him, he hadaccepted with alacrityand gratitude. Therewas no further excusefor Jane to seek St.Clair’s company.

Besides, she had beenneglecting her ownchores at Meadowbrookquite deplorably, andreallyshouldgetbacktothem.Knowing thatnowwasthe time to stopprocrastinating, shelicked her suddenly drylips, turnedherheadtolook at him, and said,“St.Clair—”She stopped abruptly

when she discoveredhim staring at her lipsintently. Her heartsuddenly seemed to bebeatingquiteerratically.Before she could eventhink, he grasped hershoulders, pulled herhard against his chest,and brought his mouthdown on hers almostangrily.But,inthenextinstant, the hint ofanger disappeared, and

his kisses became allthat she rememberedthemtobe.Gently his mouthmoved over hers,shaping and moulding.Then his tongue cameseeking, and with herwelcoming co-operation,plungedintohermouth,exploring, teasing,inviting,untilshefinallyfollowed his lead.Tentatively at first, and

thenmoredaringly, sheallowed her tongue tolearn the sweet taste ofhismouth.Itwasheavenly, but itwas not enough. Shelonged, as she hadbefore, to feel his handon her breast, andinstinctivelyshepressedherself closer againsthis chest. He made asound deep in histhroat,andwhenoneof

his hands left hershoulder to movedownward, she wasfilled with a sense offierce joy, breathlessexpectation, and allmanner of wildlywonderful sensations.Once again she wascompletely unpreparedwhenheabruptlypulledaway and, with amuffled oath, turnedfromher.

Blessedly, for amoment at least, hermind was numb, butnot so numb that shedid not hear himmutter,“Damnation!”She waited for him tocontinue, feeling as ifher whole fate hung inthe balance, but he didnotcontinue.Instead, he gave aharsh laugh, and saidwith mocking formality,

“Well, it seems I mustbeg your forgivenessonce again. MissLockwood. My onlyexcuse is that I musthave spent too longrusticating away fromLondon.”Janecouldnotmistakehis meaning, nor couldshe answer him. Shewas too busy beratingherself, attempting toswallowthelumpinher

throat, and fighting thetearsinhereyes.And something else,whichshecouldnotyetidentify, was trying topushitswayupthroughallhermisery.He spoke again, andthis time his voicesounded gentle andapologetic. And worse—far worse—she coulddetect a note of pity init. He said, “I fear I

would make a mostunsuitable husband,Jane.Moretothepoint,marriage has neverinterestedme, and you,I know,would settle fornothingless.”And now Jane couldidentify what thatsomething else was. Itwas anger. At herself,certainly, but this timethe anger extended tohim, too. She had

behavedbrazenlybuthewas not blameless. Shemight have unwittinglyinstigated that firstincident, but he had,without doubt, begunthis one. And now, hehad added insult toinjury.Before he could stopher—if he had evenwished to, which shedoubted—Jane jumpedtoherfeet,strodetoher

horse, and pulledherselfintothesaddle.Coldly, she said, “Ifyouwillexcuseme.LordSt. Clair, I really mustbegoingnow.’’As she flicked thereins, he called, “Jane,wait!”Despite herself, shestopped,butshedidnotturntofacehimandherback remained ramrodstraight.

After a moment, sheheard him sigh heavilybeforesaying,“Ishallbereturning to Londontomorrow.”“Have a pleasantjourney,” she saidcoolly, and urged herhorseforward.For some time, as sherode home toMeadowbrook,Janewasupliftedbyheranger,aswellaspride intheway

she had conductedherself at the last. Shehad neither wept,pleaded,norberated,allof which she had, byturns, felt like doing.Instead, she hadremained calm, cool,and civil, just as a ladyought.And she was a lady,despitethe factthattoooften of late she had

failedtobehavelikeone.But she was no longerbewitched by St. Clair.All that was over.Ended.It was too bad thatangerandpridedidnotcontinuetosustainher.Unfortunately, bothdesertedherlongbeforeMeadowbrookcameintoview.Nosoonerhadshethoughtofendingsthanthe full extent of her

loss bore down uponher, and she was filledwithpainandgrief.Andtelling herself that shewas better off withouthim could not ease theache in her chest orhelp to hold back hertears.By the time shereached Meadowbrook,she had composedherself sufficiently toface Melrose. But she

feared she would loseher precarious controlat the least sign ofsympathy,whichAgathawas sure to administerinabundance.For that reason, shewas grateful to discoverthat Agatha and Alicewere from home. Andeven more so whenMelrose informed herthat they would bereturning late, as they

intended to dine withSirAlfred.Shespentthenextfewhours in her chamber,weeping, wishing,praying. But she knewthat it was useless tohope. It was over. Shewould never see himagain, and if she did,they would meet aspolite acquaintances.With that thought, thecycle started all over

again.She wondered how itwashumanlypossibletobear such pain, butknew that she must.There was no otherchoice. One did not,afterall,dieofabrokenheart.

CHAPTERSIXTEENBy the time AgathaandAlicereturned,Janehad composed herselfonce more. She hadcome to the conclusionthat she was not goingto die, and must,therefore, live with thepain of St. Clair’s loss.Andalthoughinsideshemightfeelasifsheweredying, a lady did not

showheremotions.Besides, it would beunfair to subject otherstohermisery.Therewasnothing so tedious, sheknew,asbeingforcedtoendure the company ofone who was foreversunkingloom.Thebestthing she could do, forherself and thosearoundher,wouldbetoact as normally aspossible, and also to

keepherself toobusytowallow in herunhappiness.And so, when Agathaand Alice finallyreturned, she wasawaiting them in thedrawing-room, and wasable to greet thempleasantly, if not quitecheerfully.“What have you twobeenupto?”sheasked.“IamafraidIhavebeen

neglecting you quitedreadfully, but all thatisinthepast.Iintendtoremain at home nowand attend to myduties.”“Oh,” said Agatha, “wehave been going alongvery well on our own, Ipromiseyou.Sothereisno need for you todesert Mr. Davies andLordSt.Clair.”“Well, as to that,” said

Jane, fighting to keepher voice steady, “Mr.Davies is quite fit now.Asamatteroffact,heisto be our new estateagent.”“Oh,” said Agathaagain. “But what amarvelous solution toour problems! Youknow, I could not quitelike imposing upon St.Clair’sman, and this isso much better than

having poor Mr. Davieshanged.”Alice giggled at that,andJanewasevenableto smile a little as sheagreed.Thensheadded,inwhatshehopedwasacasual manner, “As forSt. Clair, I believe hemeans to return toLondontomorrow.”“Whatever for?” askedAgatha, clearlyastonished. “London is

completely dead at thistime of year. No one ofanyconsequencewillbethere.”“I doubt he cares forthat,” Jane replied,unable to keep a touchof bitterness from hervoice, since she wasquite certain that LadyCathcart wouldaccompany him. Shecould not resist adding,“I amcertain that there

will always be someattractions there for amansuchashe.”Agatha frowned atthat, and turning toAlice,said,“Ibelieve,mydear,thatitispasttimeforyoutoretire.”To Jane’s amazement,Alice did not argue,although hercountenance took on apouting expression.After wishing them a

slightly ungraciousgoodnight, the girl tookherselfofftobed.“My goodness!”exclaimed Jane. “Howdidyoumanagethat?”“I am not completelyuselessasamentor,mydear Jane,” Agathainformedher.“Ifyouwillrecall, I was yourgoverness before Ibecame yourcompanion.”

“Of course,” said Janein a much chastenedvoice. “It is just that Iam so used to thinkingofyouasmyfriend,itisdifficult to rememberyou as an authorityfigure.”“Humph,”saidAgatha.“But to return to thesubjectofSt.Clair,howlong does he plan toremaininLondon?”“I haven’t the least

notion,”repliedJane.“But he does mean toreturn to Ethridge Hall,doeshenot?”“Idon’tbelieveso.”“Oh,Jane,youdidnothave a falling out withhim,didyou?”“Of course not.Whatever put such aridiculousideaintoyourhead?”“But I thought hemeant to remain here

indefinitely. I thought...Ithought...”“Oh, Agatha,” Janesaid wearily, “I knowexactly what youthought.Youthoughttopromote a matchbetween us, but evenyou must see howunsuitable such amatch would be. MissPropriety and the Rake!No, no! It is too absurdtobethoughtof.”

At the last, Jane hadmanagedtoinjectanoteof amusement into hervoice. But as she wasunable to look at hercompanion as shespoke, she did not seethe sudden look ofdetermination whichcrossedAgatha’sface.That expression,however, had vanishedwhen Jane turnedtowards her oncemore.

“Speaking of matches,Agatha, just what isgoing on between youandSirAlfred?”Astonishingly, Agathablushedbeforesaying,“Icannot imagine whatyou mean, Jane. It istrue that we have beenspendingagreatdealoftime together, but thatis only because theManor has been sounderstaffed. Then, too,

there is Sir Alfred’sgout. It is improvingsteadily, but it wouldnot be doing so if hewerelefttohimself.Themanneedsakeeper.”“Indeed,”saidJane.“Yes,” continuedAgatha, busilysmoothing an invisiblewrinkle from her skirt,“so I have beenattempting to keep himin line. Also, although

several of his staff havereturned, hishousekeeper is unableto do so just yet. As aresult, Sir Alfred and Ithought this would beanexcellentopportunityto instruct Alice in themanagement of ahousehold.”“Oh, Agatha,” Janesaid,“youshouldnotbeburdened with thatchore.Butnevermind,I

shall be able to takeAlice off your handsnow.”“Oh,no!”criedAgatha.Then, blushing again,she said, “To beperfectly truthful, mydear, I rather enjoyplaying the role ofteacher again, and Ihave discovered thatAlice learns quiterapidly. Also, I havemore or less promised

SirAlfredthatsheandIwillcomeeachdayuntilhis housekeeper canreturn.So,ifyoudonotmind, I should like tocontinue with thisportion of Alice’sinstruction.”Janelongedtosaythatsheminded verymuch,but of course she couldnot. Instead she said,“Well, only if you arecertain that you do not

mind.”“Not in the least,”Agatha assured hercheerfully. Then sheadded,“AndsinceIhaveanother full day aheadof me tomorrow, Ibelieve I, too, shallretire.”Standing, she pattedJane’s cheek. “Goodnight, my dear,” shesaidsoftly.“Donotstayuptoolate.”

“No, I shan’t,”murmuredJane.Then she sat, staringat the door throughwhich Agatha haddeparted, wonderingwhat she was going todo now. She hadcounted upon havingAlicetohelpoccupyhertime,butthatwouldnotbepossible.Atleast,notfor the immediatefuture, and it was that

which she feared themost. She knew in herhead,ifnotinherheart,that time wouldeventually ease herpain, but in themeantime, she neededsomething to keep heroccupied.Of course there werealways her usualhousehold chores. Theyhad certainly kept herbusy enough in the

past,butnotinthewayshe now needed.Because they were soroutine, she knew thathermind would be freeto wander, and thatwould not do. No, shemustthinkofsomethingelse.Itwas severalminutesbefore the very thingcame to her. Hertenants! She wouldspend tomorrowvisiting

each one of them. Shewould listen to theirgossip and theirtroubles and give themthebenefitofheradvice.Surelyoneortwowouldbe in need of hermedical services. And,while she was about it,it might be a goodnotion to invite Mr.Davies to accompanyher. It would be anexcellentopportunityfor

himtomeetherpeople.Oh, yes. That shouldfill herdayquitenicely.Andaftertomorrow,shewas certain that Mr.Davieswouldappreciateher help and adviceuntil he grew moreaccustomed to his newresponsibilities. Thatshould see her throughthe remainder of theweek, by which time,she hoped. Sir Alfred’s

housekeeperwouldhavereturned.Unfortunately, Jane’splanswentawry.It all began wellenough. Mr. Daviesgladly accepted herinvitation to visit hertenantswithher; itwasabeautifulday;andshewasdrivinghercurricle,which was one of herfavourite things to do.But almost from the

moment they steppedinto the first cottage,nothingwentasshehadvisualized.All of her peopleseemed to be enjoyingthe most extraordinarydegree of good health.Of course she wasextremely glad of that,but there was not somuch as a child’sscraped knee to requireher attention. Even

worse,noonewishedtospeak of anything oranyonebutSt.Clair,forwhom theyhadnothingbutpraise.And then there waspoorMr.Davies.Notbyword or deed did hereveal hisdisappointment, butJane soon realized thathe was far fromcomfortable. Only thendid it strike her that

these visits were notwhathehadexpectedorwished for. It was themenwhomheneededtomeetandtalkwith,andthey were all out,workinginthefields.And so, after a veryshort stop at eachcottage, Jane dutifullydrove her estate agentout to the fields, wherehe happily spent whatseemed an inordinate

amount of time talkingwith each male tenant.Allofwhichmeantthat,with so much time onher hands, she spenttheentiredaydoingjustwhat she was trying toavoid—thinking of St.Clair.Nor did anything elsefallinwithherschedulefortheremainderof theweek.Although Mr. Davies

was unfailingly politeand deferential whenJane sought him outearly the next morning,she quickly sensed hisimpatience andfrustration. Itwas quiteapparentthathehadnoneed of her help or heradvice, for he knew hisbusiness very well. Sothat scheme wasabandoned almostbeforeitwasbegun.

But with the longhours of the entiresennight stretching outbefore her, she wasfilled with both dismayandpanic.Howonearthwas she going to fill allofthem?Then a happy thoughtoccurred to her.MadameEstellehadnotyet delivered the gownsshe had ordered, andJane decided that she

would drive into Leedsandcollectthemherself.While she was there,she would call at theinfirmarytoseehowtheyoung urchin wasfaring.In fact, she decided, ifhewasuptomakingthejourney, she wouldbring him back toMeadowbrook with her.The fresh country airandgood foodwoulddo

wonders for him, andshewascertainthatsheand Mr. Davies couldfind something usefulfor him to do on theestate.Her first errand wassuccessful. The gownswere completed, butMadameEstellehadnotyet had time to arrangefortheirdelivery,andsoJane was able to takethemwithher. Itwasa

small thing, but afterher failures of the pasttwo days, it seemed agood omen. She arrivedat the infirmary feelingalmostlight-hearted.That made herdisappointment all thekeener when shelearned that the childwasnolongerthere.Norcouldshediscoverwhathad become of him, forthe busy matron could

tellheronlythattheboyhad been claimed andtaken away that verymorning by a mostrough-lookingindividual.Jane had no doubtthat the individual hadbeen the chimney-sweep.Evenifshecoulddiscover theirwhereabouts, there wasnoway she couldwrestthe boy from theman’s

clutches.Nomatterhowcruel and inhumane hemight be, the law wason his side. So thatnow, in addition to allher other troubles, shewas consumed by guiltover that pitiful child’sfate,forsheknewthatifshe had come a daysooner, she might havesavedhim.To make mattersworse, if that were

possible, the trip toLeeds had served toremind her morestronglythaneverofSt.Clair. For most of thereturn trip she wassunk in self-pity anddespair.By the time Janereached Meadowbrook,however, she hadregained a great deal ofher common sense andconcluded that she had

wasted far too muchtime in these fruitlesseffortstostaybusy.Shewoulddomuchbettertoresume her usual dailyroutine. Havingdiscovered that it wasimpossible to suppressthoughts and memoriesofSt.Clair,shedecidedthat she would nolonger make theattempt, butmight justas well give them full

rein. To do so waspainful, but it was abittersweet pain, andalmostcomforting inanoddsortofway.As ithappened, thingswere not so bad as shehadthoughttheywouldbe. She was kept farbusier than she hadexpected, for Elsieplayed least in sighteven more often thanwasusual.But foronce

Janedidnotreallymindand scarcely listened tothe girl’s vague excusesthe first few times Janequestionedher.Although a certainheaviness in her chestnever quite left her,Jane discovered thateven so profound anemotion as grief couldnot afflict onecontinuously. Therewere times, however

rare, when she actuallyforgot her troubles... orat leastdidnot thinkofthemovermuch.Then, too, Agatha andAlice were there everyevening,fortheydidnotagaindineattheManorwith the squire. It wasfrom Agatha Janelearned the reason forElsie’s frequentdefections.“Well, dear,” said

Agatha, “she has beenseeing one of thefootmen at EthridgeHall. In fact, I shouldnot be surprised if shegaveyouhernoticeverysoonnow.”“Well,”Janesaidwryly,“I cannot say that itwould be a great loss.And now that we haveMr. Davies, we shouldbeable tohiresomeonemorecompetent.”

“Yes,”agreedAgatha.Before Jane couldwondertoomuchatthelack of conviction inAgatha’s voice, Alicesaid, “I am surprisedyoudidnotknowaboutElsie and her footman.It iscommonknowledgein the neighbourhood.”Then, with a sly glanceatAgatha,sheadded,“Itseems that there is agreatdealofromancein

theairoflate.”For everyone but me,mused Jane as shestudied Agathathoughtfully. For sometime, the suspicion hadbeen growing in hermindthatAgathamightbe developing a tendrefor Sir Alfred. But,despiteherwords toSt.Clair,shehadbeenableto dismiss such a

possibility as being toofantastical.Nowshewasnotsocertain,especiallyas she watched a fieryblush spread overAgatha’s cheeks.Nevertheless, she hadno intention ofdiscussingthematterinAlice’s presence, and soshe changed thesubject.However, as soon asshe and her companion

were alone later thatevening, shedemanded,“Now,Agatha,justwhatisgoingonbetweenyouandSirAlfred?”“Well, dear, I havebeen meaning to tellyou, only I wished towait until...well, nomatter.ThetruthisthatI have come to care forAlfredagreatdeal.”“Oh, Agatha, I don’twish to cast a damper

on your happiness, butdo you think that iswise?” Then, beforeAgatha could reply,Jane continued, “Butwhat a stupid question!I doubt that any femaleiswisewhenitcomestomen. It is just that Idonot wish to see youhurt.”“Well, you can putyour mind at ease onthat score, for I shan’t

be hurt,” Agatha toldher. “You see, now thathe has recovered fromhis gout, Alfred meansto go to the Continentafter all, and he hasasked me to go withhim.”At Jane’s expression,Agatha laughed andsaid,“Oh,donotlooksoshocked,love.Itisnotacarte blanche he hasoffered me, but

marriage. And I haveaccepted, so it will beour wedding trip,although we shall takeAlicewithus.”For a moment, Janedid not know what tosay. All she could dowas wonder how shewould survive now thatshe was losing Agatha,too. But then, shamedatsuchselfishness,shemanaged to smile and

say, “Then I must wishyou happy. And I dowishyouhappiness, fornoonedeservesitmore.But there is no need totake Alice with you onyour wedding trip. Shecan remain here withme.’’“No, no,” said Agatha,her eyes twinklingmerrily, “she will be notrouble for us. But I do

not plan to desert youjust yet. Alfred and Ihaveagreedtopostponetheweddingandthetripuntil your affairs aresettled.”Jane did not attemptto discourage Agatha,for she knew that shecouldnotliveherealonewithout a companion tolend her countenance.Thatwasnotwhatheldhersilent,however.She

was considering amostdaring plan for settlingher own affairs, andwonderingifshehadthecourage to see itthrough.

****At that very moment,St.Clairwasdemandingof Kearny, “What thedevil do you mean bysaying thatshe isgoingto marry that oldreprobate?Damnation!I

told her not toencouragehim!”Kearny gave anelaborate shrug andsaid, “All’s I know iswhat I heard when IstoppedoverattheHallafter getting the boy.Oneo’yourfootmenhadit straight from thelady’s own maid. ‘Acertain spinster whatlives at Meadowbrook,’hesaystome, ‘isabout

tobeleg-shackledtotheoldsquire.’”“Indeed!”saidSt.Clairwith narrowed eyes.Then he added as hestrodetowardsthedoor,“We shall see aboutthat!”

CHAPTERSEVENTEENTwo mornings later,Jane sat at her writingtable surrounded bywadsofdiscardedpaperand chewed on the endofherpenasshegazeddown at yet anotherblank sheet. It hadtakenheralongtimetobuild up her courage,and now she wasfinding it amazingly

difficulttofindtherightwords. How did one goaboutofferingtobecomeaman’smistress?With a deep sigh, shedipped the dry pen inthe inkwell and beganagain.

MyDearSt.Clair,Since our lastconversation, I havereached theconclusion that you

were wrong. Aftergiving the matter agreatdealof thought,I have decided that Iam,afterall,perfectlywilling to settle forlessthanmarriage.Jane paused and wastrying to decide whatnext to say when shewas distracted by athunderouspounding.Itsounded, in fact, as if

someone were using abattering ram on thefront doors. The noisethenceasedabruptly.Rising from her chair,she hurried over toplace her ear againsther chamber door.Unfortunately, shecould hear nothingbeyond amurmuring ofvoices.Hoping to hear more,she eased her door

open, although by nowan irrationalpremonition had herheart pounding soloudly thatshedoubteditwouldhelp.Nevertheless,Melrose’svoice came to her quiteclearly. “But, sir,indeed,youcannot…”He was interrupted byanother voice,unmistakably St.Clair’s, shouting, “Jane!

Get down hereimmediately! You haveexactly five minutes topresent yourself, or Ishallcomeupthere!’’Shedidnotdoubthimforasecond,andasshesplashed her face withcold water and ran abrushhurriedlythroughher hair, she vacillatedbetween extremes ofhopeandfear.Whywashe here? Had he

discovered that hemissed her asmuch asshe missed him? Shecould not help but askherself why he shouldhavecomeunlesshedidcare for her, yet shefeared being hurt againifshewerewrong.Shewincedasshetooka final glance in themirror.Shewaswearingoneofher oldest gowns

andshelookedasifshehad been throwntogether all by guess.But at least she waspresentable enough toshow herself, and intimetopreventSt.Clairfrom charging up thestairs and into herchamber. Still, as shemadeherwaydownthestairs, she found thather kneeswere shakingand her hands

trembling.Shecouldnotremember ever havingbeen so nervous in allherlife.Melrosenoddedtowardthe drawing-room andmuttered,“He’sinthere.MissJane.”“Thank you, Melrose,”shesaid.Then, taking a deepbreath, and with herhead held high, sheentered the drawing-

room, intending to askhim what he meant bydisturbing herhousehold in such anoutrageous way. But atthe sight of him, shewas renderedspeechless.He was attired inrumpled eveningclothes; his hair lookedas though it had notseenacomborbrushinasennight,andhiseyes

were slightly bloodshotwith dark circles underthem. He must havebeen imbibing heavily,or else he had travelledstraight through fromLondon without sleep.Since she could detectno tell-tale odour ofstrongspirits,Janehadto surmise that thelatterwasthecase.Anddespite herself, hoperose more strongly in

herbreast.His eyes raked overher,andtohersurprise,since he was scowlingquite ferociously, heremarked, “Ihaveneverseenyourhairdownlikethat.Ilikeit.”“Th-thank you,” shesaid, just barelystopping herself fromreaching up to touchher hair like some coyschoolgirl. “But, St.

Clair, what are youdoinghere?”“Ha!” he said, glaringeven more fiercely. “Icame to prevent acertain spinster fromgoing through with herplantomarrySirAlfred.ThatiswhatIamdoinghere.”Then,runninghisfingers through hisalready disheveled hair,he exclaimed, “Good

God, Jane, the man isan over-aged loosescrew. I could scarcelybelieve thenewswhen Iheardit.Infact,Iwouldnothavebelieved ithadI not had it fromKearny,who swore thatit came directly fromyourownmaid.”Janefrowned,thinkingitoddthatheshouldbeso overset by Agatha’smarriageplans,butshe

only asked, “How didKearnylearnofit?”“He stopped atEthridge Hall for a fewdays after he retrievedour young urchin fromtheinfirmaryinLeeds.”Jane gasped. “ThenKearny was the rough-looking man who tookhim.Oh,Jon,thankyoufor rescuing him. But Iwish you had told mewhat you meant to do.

Youcannotknowhow Ihaveworriedaboutthatchild.”“Yes, well, I am sorryfor that, but you mighthave guessed that Icould not leave himthere. He would haveended in a foundlinghomeortheworkhouse,orworse.”“Yes,thatiswhatIwasafraidof.”“However,” he said,

frowningagain,“youareattempting to changethe subject, and I havenotfinishedwhatIcametosay.”“Very well,” shereplied, “but could wenot sit down and bemore comfortable whileyousayit?”“Certainly,” heanswered, andgraciously offered her aseatonherownsofa.

When she was settled,hesatoppositeher,andleaned forward with hiselbows on his knees. “Ithink I understandwhyyou came to thisdecision, Jane. Butreally, my dear, it willnot do. Good God! Themanisoldenoughtobeyour father; and evenworse, he is a memberof the Prince Regent’sset, which is no

recommendationatall!”Jane stared at himblankly for a moment,but as the fullrealization of hismisconception dawneduponher,shecouldnotresist teasing him. Shesighed and said, “Oh,St. Clair, I scarcelyknow how to tell youthis,butIfearyouhavecome on a sleevelesserrand.Yousee, Iagree

withyoucompletely.”St. Clair straightenedas though he had beenslapped, scowled again,and demanded, “Whatthedevil?”“Yes,” Jane told himwithanotherheavysigh.“I had already decidedthat such a marriagewouldnotdo,althoughIbelieve that Sir Alfredmeans to change hisways.”

“Well, I am certainlyglad that you came toyoursensesintime,”hesaid. “But whateverpossessed you even toconsidersuchathing?”He looked so peevedthatshecouldnolongerhold back her laughter.Finally she said, “Oh,St.Clair,Iamsorrybut,truly, I could not resistquizzingyou.”“Yes, you are having a

great deal of fun at myexpense, are you not?Butperhapsitistimetoletmeinonthejoke.”“Itwastoobadofme,Iknow, but you reallyshouldhaveguessedthetruth. It is Agatha whoplans to marry SirAlfred,notI.”“Agatha!” heexclaimed.Thenhesaidrather sheepishly,“Well, it seems I am

guilty of jumping tofalse conclusions.” Hepaused before adding,“But if Agatha is to bemarried, you will be inthe market for a newcompanion, will younot? Do you havesomeoneinmind?”Realizing that shewould never have abetter opportunity tomake her offer, Janeswallowed and said,

“Actually I do, thoughnot the sort you arelikely to be imagining. Iwasthinkingmorealongthe lines of a... a malecompanion.”“What nonsense areyou talking now?” hegrowled.Jane felt as if hercheeksmust be on fire,but did her best toignore the sensation asshe forced herself to

say, “Well, St. Clair, Ihave learned, since lastseeing you, that I am agreat dealmore likemymother than I everknew.” She paused togather courage. “Thetruth is that I havediscovered in myself amost reprehensiblefondnessforrakes.”One of his eyebrowsrose very slowly beforehe asked suspiciously,

“Are you, by anychance, hinting for anofferfromme?”Jane searched hiseyes,andfindingatraceof the familiar laughterthere, took even morecourage. Enoughcourage to say, “Well,yes, but you needn’tworry. I am well awarethat you are not in themarket for a wife. Ofcourse I should prefer

you as a husband,but...”Shecouldnotgoon.Itwas almost more thanshe could do, tocontinue gazing at himunflinchinglywhenwhatshereally felt likedoingwas hiding her face inher hands. She couldnot believe that she, ofall people, had spokensobrazenly.

To make mattersworse,hiseyesnowheldan unholy gleam as hedrawled,“Justwhatisityou are trying to say,Jane?”Her heart sank as sherealized that she wasgoing to be obliged toputherproposition intowords. But she couldnot back down now.Raisingherchinbravelyshe said, “I am offering

to become yourmistress.”“I see,” he said. “Andjust what put thisnotionintoyourhead?”“Well, to be perfectlyfrank,itwasAgatha.”“Agatha!” heexclaimed. “What thedevil was she about tomake such asuggestion?”“No, no! She wouldnever suggest such a

thing. It was somethingshesaidwhichgavemethe idea. I first thoughtof it when shementioned somethingabout a carte blanche,and since Ihad learnedfrom Elsie that LadyCathcart had not gonewith you to London, Ithought...”Hewasnothelpinghera bit, but merely

watching her with aninterestedexpressiononhis face, so she saiddefiantly, “Well, youdidkiss me on more thanone occasion, so Ithought perhaps youwould not find such analliance too distasteful,and—forGod’ssake,St.Clair, will you pleasesay somethingand stopme from babbling like

this?”Although she thoughtonecornerofhismouthtwitched slightly, hecontinued to study herclosely, and it seemedlike forever before hesaid, “I think, my dear,thatyouwoulddobetterto marry me, ratherthan fall victim toanother rake or even ahighwayman. There isno telling what fate

mightbefallyouiflefttoyour own devices. No, Ireally cannot allow youto go about offeringyourselfinthisway.”“No,no,St.Clair,”shesaidwithasmalllaugh.“YoucannotthinkthatIwould go through thisagain.GoodGod!Itwasdifficult enough withyou. But, my dearfriend,Icareforyoutoomuch to allow you to

sacrifice yourself in aloveless marriage. Infact...” She stoppedbecausehehadrisenasshespoke.Drawing her to herfeet,too,hesaid,“Ifyoudonotknowbynow,mygirl,thatIamheadoverears in love with you,then you are evengreenerthanIthought.”And, to punctuate hiswords, he wrapped his

arms around her andkissed her in such awayastobanishallherdoubts.Intruth,hewasso passionate that hisformer kisses seemedquite tame, and by thetime it was over, Janewasbreathless.But at last he drewback slightly and said,“Well,mylove?”“Well?” she repeateddazedly.

“Are you not going totellmethatyouloveme,too?”“Oh! But Jon,” shesaid, “you must knowthat I do. I have lovedyou since you were ahighwayman.”He laughed andhugged her close again,saying, “Oh, Jane,thank God for yoursharpshootingcoachman.”

She was enjoying thathug a great deal whenhepulledawayandsaidwith a slight frown,“However, since youareso very fond of rakes, Ifear you will bedisappointedinme.Yousee, I have grown tiredof my wild ways andhave already begunrepairingmyreputation.Infact,mylove,youareliable to find me too

tamebyhalf.”But Jane only smiledand shook her head,then drew his mouthback down to hers. Forshe knew that, thoughhemightnolongerbearake, to her, he wouldalways be her ownbelovedhighwayman.

Copyright©1993byCatherineA.NickensOriginallypublishedbyHarlequinRegencyRomance(0373312091)Electronicallypublishedin2008byBelgraveHouse/RegencyReadsALLRIGHTSRESERVEDNoportionofthisbookmaybereprintedinwholeorinpart,by

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