A Shameful Secret

T f{tÅxyâÄ fxvÜxà Copyright © January 2008, Anne Ireland Cover art by Yvette Lynn © January 2008 Amira Press Baltimore, MD 21216 www.amirapress.com ISBN: 978-1-934475-41-6 No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Amira Press.

Chapter One “You must admit, my dear Araminta, that your delightful, though sadly irresponsible, son Robert is in trouble. And I fear that if you want my help in this matter, then you must be prepared to give me something in return.” Charlotte, Countess of Danbury, fixed her cousin with a charming but determined look that would have wilted a much stronger character than Araminta Weston possessed. She was a woman of something over forty, dressed in the height of fashion, wealthy in her own right due to two fortuitous marriages, and still attractive. Her companion however, was a diminutive woman with an air of resignation, as though life had not treated her as well as it might. They were sitting in the small but pretty parlor of Mrs Weston’s East Anglian home. For the middle of June, it was wetter and colder than usual, though that day the sun was filtering in through the long French windows, showing up the fading in the once rich carpet and the curtains that were beginning to show signs of wear. “Naturally, I should be extremely grateful and happy to oblige in almost any way,” Araminta fluttered helplessly. “But my late husband forbade me to allow Hester such pleasures. He said I must never forget her shame.” “If I may say so, Araminta, Harold Weston was a fool and a bully. I thought so when you married him, and I have not revised my opinion since. Besides, he has been dead more than nine months, and I do not think his opinions should weigh with you now.” “Oh, Charlotte,” her cousin said tearfully. “I do not know what to do. Henry never forgave her you know—and it was quite shocking.” Privately, Charlotte thought that the most shocking thing about the whole business was the way the Westons had treated their only daughter, but to say so at this moment would not get her what she wanted. Araminta was perhaps a foolish woman, but she could be coaxed if one had enough patience. “It was also eight years ago, my dear cousin. Long enough to be put aside, I believe. I think Hester has been punished enough—do you not agree in your heart?” “Well . . .” Araminta sighed. “Yes, perhaps.” “Well, those are my terms,” Charlotte said. “Come, think about it, Minta! You will have your sister Jane here to keep up your spirits, and I shall have Hester to bear me company in Bath. It is not as if I intend to parade her on the marriage market, for she is five-and-twenty after all.” Araminta looked at her speculatively. “And if I agree that you may have Hester as your companion, you will pay all Robert’s gambling debts?” “I shall settle the ten thousand pounds he so recklessly threw away last week, and he will promise to buckle down and put his estate in order. After that, we shall see. I might do something more for him if he shows that he has a mind to reform.” “Then, it seems I have no choice but to agree,” Araminta said, “Robert will have to find himself an heiress—and if Hester is settled with you, I can live comfortably on my dower.” “Your sister has a small competence of her own I believe,” Charlotte said. “You might retire to one of the less fashionable spars and live quietly instead of rattling about this barn of a place if you chose.” “Yes, we might do that,” Araminta agreed, looking happier now that it was settled. “But, of course, even if I have given you my consent, you will still have to persuade Hester. I am not sure that she would wish to accompany you. She has become very much a recluse these past years.”

“Then it is time she was taken out of herself,” Charlotte said firmly. She would have no backsliding now! “Where is she? Will you send for her to come down?” “She has gone on an errand to the Vicarage,” Araminta said. “But she should be back very shortly.” **** Hester Weston paused as she left the Vicarage after giving her mother’s message to Mrs. Simpkins and staying for a glass of gooseberry wine and a slice of seed cake. Despite the best efforts of the sun, the wind was chilly, and she pulled her warm, woollen shawl up around her neck, hardly relishing the long walk to Weston House, which was at least a mile past the other side of the village. She sighed, wishing that she might have conducted her mother’s errand on horseback, but riding was one of the pleasures her late father had forbidden her after . . . her shameful behavior. Hester felt the sting of her father’s words as keenly as if it were only yesterday, though they had been spoken more than eight years earlier. After that time, he had refused to speak directly to her, addressing her through her mother or a servant. He had meant to show her that she had fallen so far that she was dead in his eyes. Perhaps it might have been better if she had died, Hester thought. At least then she would have been spared the bitterness of these past years. Seeing a small girl playing in the street, Hester felt a lump in her throat. She stopped to watch her for a moment. Her own daughter might have been about the same age had she lived. She blinked back the foolish tears that threatened to overcome her and walked on, wanting now to get home so that she could see everything had been done to make her cousin comfortable. She was thoughtful as she walked, for she could never see a child without remembering all those things she found so painful. She had been walking for some minutes when she heard the sound of a horse’s hooves from behind her. She stepped to the grass verge at the side of the narrow road to allow the rider to pass for the lane was quite narrow. However, as she waited patiently, the horse slowed to a halt and the gentleman tipped his hat to her. “Good morning, ma’am,” he said politely. “Forgive me for disturbing you, but I believe I have missed my way. I wonder if you could direct me to Holdenby Hall please?” For a moment, Hester’s heart caught with fright, for the words were the very same as those uttered fatally more than eight years earlier, the words that had led to a broken heart and her terrible shame. She breathed deeply, taking a moment to recover her composure before looking up at the face of the man who had spoken. Thank God, it was not he! Had it been, she could not have answered for her actions, for she had often thought she might like to strike that other one. Indeed, in her grief-maddened dreams, she had longed to wreak bloody revenge on the man who had ruined her life, though when she was awake and thinking sensibly, she knew that she would never do such a thing. She was in fact, a wellbrought-up and conscientious lady, and her lapse from grace had been unfortunate rather than deliberate. “Are you all right?” The man was looking at her in concern now, his blue eyes narrowing as he saw how pale she was. “Did I startle you?” “A little,” Hester confessed, forcing herself to put away her foolish memories. “I believe you have taken the wrong fork, sir. You must return to the crossroads and take the road to the right. I believe there is a milestone with the inscription, Holdenby Village two miles, but it may have become overgrown again.”

“Ah, yes, that would explain it. Josh told me there was a milestone, but I did not see it as I rode. Thank you very kindly, ma’am, and forgive me if I came upon you too suddenly.” There was sincerity in his deep voice, and his smile was like a gentle caress. Despite the warnings in her head, Hester found herself responding to his charm. “Are you staying with Lady Holdenby?” she asked. “She told me last week that she expected her brother Josh for a visit and that he might bring friends to stay at the Hall.” “We were in France together,” the man replied. “Served under Wellington, on his staff. Captain Paul Crawford at your service, ma’am.” “Hester Weston,” she replied, her heart beating quickly, too quickly. He was charming and good-looking, she supposed, in a rather stern, forbidding way. Blue eyes, strong features and dark hair combined to make him a man who would always be noticed—and this was all wrong! She knew what such chance encounters led to, and she was disobeying her father’s last orders to her as he lay dying. She was to stay at home with her mother for the rest of her life and never think of shaming her family again. “Excuse me, Captain Crawford, I must hurry. I am expected at home.” “Of course, forgive me,” he said and swept his hat from his dark head once more before turning his horse to ride off the way he had come. Hester could not resist a last glance at him as she turned homeward. He was not the most handsome gentleman she had ever seen, but he had good bone structure; a soft, sensuous mouth; and a deep, pleasant voice. Despite her father’s unkindness, her mother’s reproaches, and the knowledge that she could never expect to marry, Hester had occasionally thought of it. In the ridiculous dreams she sometimes experienced, the kind and generous man she longed for rode up on his horse and carried her off to a life of domestic bliss. For her to hanker after something that could never be hers was foolish. She would never know the joy of holding her child in her arms, or the happiness of being loved by a man who loved her in return. At first rebellious, Hester had come to accept that she had indeed brought shame on her family, and that she must bear her punishment as best she might. It had been very hard for a girl of spirit to accept, but over the years, the light inside her had dimmed, and at five-andtwenty, she was not the foolish romantic who had given her heart so easily. Hester sighed as she smothered the memories. To hope for something that could never be was ridiculous. Her mother needed her at home now that her father was dead. He had died without forgiving his daughter, and that had hurt Hester deeply. She knew that she had been foolish, but she had never meant to be wicked, and she had longed for her father’s forgiveness, but she had not been granted it. As she ran the last few steps towards her home, she saw that a mountain of luggage was in the hall still waiting to be carried upstairs. That must mean Cousin Charlotte had arrived. Hester smiled, and for a moment, her face lit up, and the air of repression left her. She went directly to her mother’s sitting room, and hearing her cousin’s voice, she hesitated for a moment at the door. Charlotte was describing a gown she had seen in La Belle Asemblee, the magazine that all ladies of fashion avidly sought, and Araminta was eagerly asking for more details of the latest designs. She stopped speaking and frowned as her daughter entered. “You have been a long time, Hester?” “Mrs. Simpkins kept me talking,” Hester said. “I came straight home afterwards, Mama.” There was no need to mention the gentleman who had stopped to speak to her, for it was but a chance meeting. “It is good to see you again, Cousin Charlotte. I hope you have come to stay with us for a long visit?”

“As to that, I am on my way to Bath where I shall spend a few weeks for the sake of my health. Danbury may visit from time to time I daresay, but his work in the House keeps him in London much of the time—and that is the reason, I have come here to beg the favor of your company, Hester. I have persuaded dear Araminta that she must spare you to me, and I have her agreement.” “Mama has agreed, but . . .” Hester’s gaze flew to her mother’s face. She knew very well that her father had forbidden such pleasures for his daughter, and she had not expected her mother to relent so easily. There must be more to this than she was being told. “I am not sure that I ought to accompany you, Charlotte, though of course I should like it above all things but . . .” “You will not refuse me?” Charlotte asked, an air of hurt innocence about her now. “I have been unwell, Hester dear, and need someone to look after me, run little errands and make sure I do not neglect myself, which I shall surely do if I am left to my own devices.” Hester looked at her doubtfully. Cousin Charlotte had always been kind to her, and though she was aware of Hester’s shameful secret, she had never reproached her for her sin. Indeed, it was because of Charlotte’s intervention that she had not been entirely banished from her home. If her cousin truly needed her, then she would be unkind to refuse. “Mama?” Hester looked to her mother for guidance. “I have given my permission,” Araminta said with a faintly conscious glance at her hands. “Charlotte believes that you will do her some good, and since she has shown us many kindnesses in the past, I think you should oblige her.” “Of course, I should be happy to oblige you, cousin,” Hester said, still doubtful and yet wanting to believe that it was actually happening. “If you are both sure.” “Perfectly sure,” Charlotte told her, seizing the moment. “Had you refused me I am not sure that I could have gone alone.” She gave a little cough behind her gloved hand. “But with you to watch over me and the excellent waters at the Pump Room, I am certain of affecting a complete cure.” Hester gave her a fleeting smile. She had the oddest feeling that she was being lied to, but as she could not see why either her mother or cousin should lie about something like this, she dismissed the notion as mere fancy. “I am very grateful for the opportunity,” she said, and then, with a tinge of pink in her cheeks. “I promise I shall do nothing to shame you—or Mama.” “I am perfectly certain that you will not,” Charlotte replied. “You are a delightful girl, Hester, perfectly behaved at all times, and I hope you know that I am extremely fond of you?” “Thank you.” Hester felt the first flicker of excitement. It seemed almost unreal that she was to be given such a treat. Her wickedness had led to a cancellation of the season that had been planned for her eighteenth year, and for some time, she had been excluded from the discreet and rather dull dinners that her parents gave for their neighbors, though after a while she had been permitted to attend. She had gradually been allowed to visit ladies whom her mother approved, but only in Araminta’s company. She had been excluded from any entertainment that might include young men, and when one of their neighbors’ daughters had invited her to a little dance to celebrate her eighteenth birthday, Hester had been forced to pretend to illness. The offer to accompany her cousin to Bath was beyond her dreams. “This is very good of you, cousin.” “I am only too happy that you have consented to bear me company,” Charlotte said, a little, satisfied smile about her mouth. In her youth she had been a beauty and the toast of her year, and now she was still what people termed a handsome woman, her dark hair

showing no signs of dulling or turning grey, her eyes as bright as a young girl’s, and just now they were sparking with mischief. “I daresay you may find it a little dull, my dear, but we shall get on very well together.” Find it dull to be in Bath with Charlotte? Hester could not imagine anything more calculated to lift her spirits, which had been sadly low since her brother Robert had gone to town. He had promised that he would persuade their mother to bring her to join him, since he was now the head of the family, but two months had passed, and nothing had been heard from him, not even a letter to tell them how he went on. “I don’t think I could be dull in your company, dear Charlotte,” she assured her and then caught the hint of mischief in the older woman’s eyes. Of course, her cousin was teasing her! Hester was unused to being teased, for her mother seemed to spend her days in a perpetual gloom, and it was only a few of their friends who ever had a pleasant word for Hester. “It will be a pleasure to me to run as many errands as you wish.” She turned to her mother. “The vicar thanks you for you invitation to dine next Friday, Mama. He says he will be pleased to accept.” “Had I known you were to leave me, I daresay I should not have bothered with a dinner at all,” Araminta said and sighed. “I shall have all that trouble for nothing now.” “But the dinner is for Aunt Jane’s sake,” Hester reminded her. “She will be here the day after tomorrow, Mama.” “So she will,” Araminta said, perking up a little. “I daresay it will be no trouble for Jane to arrange the menus with Cook. She does not suffer with her nerves as I do.” She gave her daughter a glance, which told Hester that her mother’s nerves were entirely her fault. Her wickedness, her shame had destroyed their family, and she would never be allowed to forget it. “Excuse me, Mama, Charlotte,” Hester said, reminded of her duties. “I must speak to Mrs Belamy and make sure that your bed has been properly aired.” Hester was thoughtful as she made her escape. This visit with Charlotte was a treat to be savored, but she must remember always that her punishment could not be ended so easily. Her father had commanded that she should be made to feel her shame for the rest of her life, and it was unlikely that her mother would ever forgive her. But if this visit to Bath was the only one she would ever make, she would do her best to forget the dark cloud that hung over her, at least for a while. **** “So you found your way then?” Josh Farnham looked at his friend, his right eyebrow quirked in mockery. “I had begun to think you lost in the wilds of Norfolk.” “I hardly think it in the English countryside,” Paul Crawford replied. He was accustomed to his friend’s mockery and ignored it. “If I can survive life with Old Hookey in France, I daresay I can find my way here. Mind you, I did take a wrong turning once, but a young woman soon set me straight.” “Was she beautiful? Have I no reason to seek further for an explanation of your delay? I expected you here yesterday, Paul.” “I took a slight detour,” Paul replied and frowned. “You know my mission. I was told that I might find a clue to the riddle I seek to solve at a certain estate not too far distant.” “And did you?” “I learned that the Earl expects his grandson home in the near future—but of the rest, nothing.”

Josh Farnham nodded. “You may find the trail has gone cold now. It was more than a year past, Paul. Perhaps it is time to let it go.” “Six men died in that blast,” Paul said. “And there were others whose deaths I did not witness personally, good soldiers who died from the same cause. Those six were men who had served with me on the Peninsular before this last engagement. You don’t simply let go of something like that, Josh.” Josh was the younger by several years than his friend. He was also the slighter of the two, though he was above average height, but Paul was a large man, muscular and authoritative. Josh was also the more attractive of the two, his hair as fair as Paul’s was dark, his eyes a merry blue that twinkled when he had cause. There were other differences, for though Paul was a seasoned soldier, the campaign in France had been Josh’s first and, he fervently hoped, his last. He had seen enough of shattered bodies and men dying of terrible wounds. Their cries haunted his dreams even now. But the worst thing was that some of the deaths had not been inflicted by the enemy, but by faulty cannon. A senior officer on Wellington’s staff, Paul had been in charge of the munitions supplies for a while, and it was he who had ordered the new cannon from a firm based in the north of England. They had been splendid pieces to look at and allegedly capable of firing more accurately and at longer distances than those they had been accustomed to. Unfortunately, of the twenty pieces delivered, nine had been damaged goods, exploding and killing or maiming the men who had fired them. Paul had taken the outrage personally, vowing to trace the person who had sold the faulty cannon to the army and see him punished. “I know how you feel,” Josh said after a moment’s reflection. “But life moves on. You have a home to go to and an estate to run.” “My mother’s words exactly,” Paul said and grinned at his friend in his lazy, goodnatured way. Sometimes Josh thought he resembled a sleepy bear, but there was nothing sleepy about him when he went into action, either on the field of battle or off it. “I have been told that it is my duty to the family to marry and get myself an heir.” “Yes, well, at your age, there isn’t much time left,” Josh said and ducked the playful blow aimed at his head. “You are seven-and-thirty, Paul, and in direct line for the title. It is little wonder that the marchioness thinks you should settle down now that Boney is back in his cage.” “I can’t see the old boy popping off just yet,” Paul said, though he frowned at the idea. “God forbid! No, my father is good for a few more years yet, thank goodness. And I have this business to sort out. I made myself a promise, Josh. We were sold faulty goods, and I think it was a deliberate fraud. It might even have been more than that.” Josh stared at in him silence for a moment, then said, “You think that those cannon could have been spiked to cause confusion and mayhem in our ranks?” “If we had not withdrawn the remainder of the batch and reassured the men, who knows what might have happened? Lesser things have started a mutiny, and even doubt or confusion at the wrong time could have lost us valuable ground. You know as well as I do that Wellington’s skill as a commander and the sheer guts on the part of officers and men won us the day out there. Anything could have tipped the balance in Bonaparte’s favor. If we had not tested those cannon before we went into battle, they might well have caused mayhem amongst the ranks.” “But surely the man who sold us the cannon was an Englishman? What was his name? I forget now, though you have spoken of him by name before.”

“Jonathan Hanwell, he called himself, and he was undoubtedly an Englishman. An Englishman who, by the deep bronze of his skin, looked as if he had spent some years abroad,” Paul said. “A man who disappeared after the contract was signed and the gold handed over—a man who might be a traitor to his country . . .” “Good grief!” Josh was astounded, feeling a growing sense of outrage now. This alters things considerably, Crawford. A fault in manufacturing is one thing, an act of sabotage by a traitor quite another. The fellow deserves to be brought to justice.” “My feelings exactly,” Paul agreed. “Of course, the name he gave was quite false. Jonathan Hanwell of the Hanwell Manufacturing Company of Sheffield. The company is genuine enough, but the cannon did not come from there, though it bore their stamp. Apparently, they had a robbery some months earlier and believe that the tool may have been stolen at that time. “Mr. Edward Hanwell was most disturbed that this impostor used his family name to sell faulty goods to the army. He believes that the cannon came from an inferior firm, and has promised to make his own inquiries as to where they might have originated, though the two that were originally demonstrated to us were undoubtedly from Hanwell’s company. However, he denied having been given the order and showed me his records of all manufacturing during that period, and I believed him honest.” “This is a serious business,” Josh said, his brow creasing in thought. “We have Boney clapped up right and tight. He shouldn’t cause us more trouble, but a traitor is a traitor.” “I intend to trace him and do my best to bring him to justice.” “If I can be of help to you, Crawford, you have only to say.” Paul nodded, his expression grim as he looked at his friend. “I shall ask but only if it is really necessary. This is a dangerous business, Josh. I have some stalwart friends, men who served with me out there, and they are as anxious to bring the traitor to justice as we are, perhaps more so, for they know any of them could have died. I daresay I shall need them for I believe someone took a pot shot at me on my way here.” “Good grief!” Josh looked at him in concern. “Then things are even worse than I imagined.” “It missed me fortunately,” Paul said with a slight smile, his blue eyes warm with amusement. “I daresay I have a charmed life—or a sixth sense, more like. It comes from all those reconnaissance forays for Old Hookey. You had to know when someone was likely to be waiting to ambush you. However, the incident on my way here has made me more wary, and I shall make sure that I do not travel alone in future. But I came here for reasons other than this foul business, my friend. What is this I hear from my mother? Are you indeed thinking of taking the plunge?” “If you mean am I in the petticoat line,” Josh said with a grimace. “It looks as if I may be. Lucinda is a beauty, Paul, and a honeypot. Not only that, she is an heiress and my mother likes her.” “Then I shall wish you happy and hope to dance at your wedding.” “I fear you will all too soon,” Josh said with a gloomy sigh. “So much for my plans to enjoy myself on the town for a few years. Between them, my mother and Lucinda will have me bound hand and foot to the estate before you can spit.” Paul laughed for he knew his friend’s humor of old and was aware that nothing would make Josh do something he did not wish to do. Clearly, he had fallen hard for the young woman in question. “I shall look forward to meeting the young lady,” he said. “Indeed, I envy you for finding a lady you can contemplate marrying with equanimity. I have never yet met one that

made me feel I should enjoy living with her in quiet domesticity, though I shall have to think of finding a wife once this other business is done. My mother is quite right. It is time I got myself an heir—but I shall look for a widow I think. A woman with a sensible mind who does not look for romantic love but who is willing to oblige me for the sake of a comfortable life.” “Good grief,” Josh said, blenching at the thought. “You will be so bored, Paul. You can’t possibly mean it?” “I’ve had my fill of tempestuous beauties,” Paul told him with a wry smile. “Isabella and Madame Desmoullins . . .” “Veronique!” Josh said and rolled his eyes. “We all envied you her, Crawford. She was matchless—those eyes and that figure!” “And a temper to match,” Paul said and chuckled. “She was a bloodsucker, Josh, never satisfied, always wanting more—both in the matter of gifts and in bed. A woman like that wears a man out. No, no, give me a nice little widow of quiet, decent habits, and I shall be satisfied.” “For six months perhaps,” Josh retorted, but he could see the smile in his friend’s eyes. “But you are bamming me, of course. I dare say you have another high flyer up your sleeve already.” “I promise you there is no one,” Paul said with his lazy smile, a smile that hid a keen, intelligent mind and a slightly wicked humor. And yet, even as he spoke, he remembered the woman who had directed him on his way. She had looked a bit startled when he spoke to her, nervous even, but when she smiled he had seen a very different person. He did not know why she had lingered in his thoughts for she was certainly not beautiful, attractive in a quiet way perhaps—but that smile had lit her face up from inside. “Do you know a woman by the name of Miss Weston?” “Hester? Yes, of course,” Josh replied and frowned. “She is an odd sort of creature, used to be good fun when she was younger—but then something changed. I don’t know the details, but I think there was some kind of scandal a few years back. It was all hushed up, and I was away at Cambridge at the time, but when we met again, after a period of some four years she didn’t go into company at all. From what I’ve gathered, she was different.” “What do you mean different?” Josh wrinkled his brow. “It isn’t easy to put a finger on it. When I left home, she was not quite seventeen, not really pretty but a sweet face, innocent, if you know what I mean. And she used to laugh a lot, talk to anyone. But when I saw her again, she avoided me. She would say hello in company, but if I came upon her alone, she would just shake her head and run off, almost as if she were afraid to speak to me. We used to play together as children, and I considered her to be another sister.” “It sounds as if she grew up,” Paul said. “Could it not simply be that she had put her childhood behind her?” “Yes, certainly,” Josh agreed. “But . . . she was chastened, Paul. It seemed to me as if someone had attempted to crush her spirit. They had not succeeded, for she still has the same sense of humor, though she tries to hide it. But sometimes she can’t quite manage, and her eyes betray her. She has rather expressive eyes.” “Yes, her eyes are remarkable, a deep, warm brown, and her smile lights up her face.” Paul wrinkled his brow in thought. “I had believed when I saw her that she was older, but you speak of her as being a contemporary—and unmarried?” Josh frowned as a thought occurred to him. “But why do you ask, Paul? She isn’t the kind of woman you usually notice.”

“It was merely curiosity,” Paul replied but looked thoughtful. “She sounds interesting, as if she might have had some secret sorrow in her past.” Josh gave him a speaking look. “All the more reason not to hurt her. I’ve always liked Hester. Told you, she’s like a sister to me. Take care, Crawford, I shouldn’t like to see her hurt.” “Indeed? Your sentiments do you credit, my friend.” Paul’s brows rose in amused query. “What makes you think I would hurt her?” “I don’t think you would do it deliberately,” Josh said, his frown deepening. “But I think she is vulnerable. She wouldn’t know how to behave with a man like you.” “Well, I daresay we shan’t meet again,” Paul said and felt slightly wistful though he did not see why he should. “Something about her lingers, but I have other, more important things on my mind for the moment.” “This business of the traitor? Do you think it could have been Mortimer’s grandson? He was a bad sort so they say. The earl banished him years ago, but I suppose he will be forced to bring him back now that Simon is dead. Richard is the heir now. Any word spoken against him would cause a fearful scandal.” “He may be the heir to an earldom,” Paul said with a grim look. “But that will not save him if I discover that he was in league with the enemy.” A little shiver ran down Josh’s spine as he looked into the cold blue eyes, and for a moment, he felt sorry for the traitor. Captain Paul Crawford was a man of his word. If he were convinced that Mortimer was the traitor, a little scandal would not prevent him from making sure that justice was done. You will have to have proof,” Josh said. “Faulty cannon is one thing—and could have been the fault of the manufacturer—but the rest of it is a more serious charge.” “Had I traced him while we were out there I would have had him shot, but now it is a matter for the courts,” Paul said. “If he is found guilty, it is a hanging offense.”

Chapter Two Hester dressed that evening in the new deep blue silk gown that her cousin had insisted on buying for her as soon as they arrived in Bath. Charlotte had sent her personal maid to dress Hester’s hair in a softer style, giving her a more fashionable look. In the glow of the candle, her hair seemed to have reddish tones, which were not always noticeable in daylight. “Charming, my dear,” Charlotte said when Hester came downstairs. “I was sure that my Maudie would know what to do. She has given you a new touch, Hester.” “My hair looks very nice, but I am not sure that Mama would approve of my gown. I know it is all the rage, but do you not think it a little revealing?” The expensive silk clung to her like another skin, moulding her curves in a way that was both fashionable and revealing. Charlotte laughed affectionately. “We are in Bath now, my love, and not the wilds of Norfolk. You would not have everyone think you a dowdy. No, no, do not blush. You look delightful, and you have perfect manners. You will do me credit this evening, Hester.” “Thank you, cousin. I fear I am just a little nervous.” “Which is only to be expected in the circumstances. You have been treated shamefully these past years. Your father was too harsh, and Araminta let him have his own way.” “Father was very forceful,” Hester said, a flicker of pain in her eyes. In fact, he had been a harsh bully who had treated his wife as if she were a featherhead. “Mama was not strong enough to stand up to him. None of us were. Even Robert was afraid of him.” Yet, despite knowing his faults, she had cared for her father, had longed for the forgiveness that never came. It was like a shadow that hung over her, haunting her thoughts both waking and sleeping. “Well, he is no longer with us,” Charlotte said. “And I believe you deserve a little happiness. So shall we forget the past and look to the future?” She gathered up her fan and reticule, smiling at her protégée. “Come along, Hester. I believe the carriage is waiting.” Hester followed obediently in her wake. Believing she was actually here in Bath and on her way to a dance at the Assembly Rooms was almost impossible. She had long given up all expectation of such pleasures, but now that her cousin had taken charge of her life, it seemed that anything was possible. The light from the chandeliers were dazzling as it picked out the fabulous jewels worn by both the ladies and some of the gentlemen. Diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires flashed in the light of a myriad of candles, and long mirrors set at intervals along the wall reflected the peacock colors of the rich fabrics worn by the wealthy gathered to pleasure themselves that night. That Charlotte had many friends present was obvious. Their progress through the congested rooms was slow, for they were accosted by both ladies and gentlemen at every step. Hester was an object of curiosity, for she had been so long absent from polite company that no one remembered the friendly, pretty and talkative girl of seventeen she had once been. And the woman she was now, a little reserved, serious, but prone to smile suddenly, provoked more than usual interest. “Lady Blackwater.” Charlotte smiled at a woman of middle years gowned in crimson and purple and wearing a fearful turban on her head, which had a large white feather stemming from a diamond clip. “Have you met my cousin Miss Hester Weston? She has kindly agreed to bear me company for a while.” “Miss Weston,” the lady said, offering the tips of her fingers and looking down her long nose. “I do not believe we have met before?”

“No, indeed, ma’am, for I should have recalled it,” Hester said politely. “I have been living very quietly at home with Mama.” “Hester’s health was not all it might have been, but she is perfectly well now, are you not, my love?” Charlotte said, thinking Hester’s statement needed some explanation. “Yes, perfectly well.” A glint of reproof flickered in Hester’s eyes for the briefest time. She had always been well, but people would wonder why she had not been given at least one season in London unless some such excuse was made. Yet, it went against the grain with her to lie. “It is a pleasure to meet you,” Lady Blackwater said “I do enjoy meeting new people. You will discover that I have a lively curiosity, my dear. She smiled at Hester who realized she was trying to discover her secret. “You must both come to my card party next week. I shall send you an invitation, Charlotte.” It was a good beginning, but not the exception. The Countess of Danbury held a leading position in society and was well liked for both her good nature and her generosity. Her cousin must be acceptable, and invitations were offered continuously throughout the evening, though many an ambitious mama thought it prudent to make some inquiries about the gel. Hester attracted the attention of several gentlemen. While she could not claim to be the sensation of the evening or to have the largest number of admirers queuing up for a dance with her, she was not forced to sit out above twice before supper. The young lady attracting most attention was Miss Geraldine Holbeach, the youngest daughter of Lady Holbeach, a matron of advanced years who had given her husband four sons and five daughters. Lady Holbeach sat with the other matrons, gossiping and watching her lovely daughter from a distance. Geraldine was a lively, pretty girl who laughed a lot at the gentlemen’s sallies and seemed very innocent. Hester was reminded of herself at the same age and felt a pang of regret. Had she ever been that carefree? Once, their gazes met across the room, and Hester responded to the other’s lovely smile. They met just before supper when they both happened to seek the ladies’ restroom at the same time. “Oh, bother!” Geraldine said as Hester entered. “I think my flounce is torn at the back, but I cannot quite reach it.” “Let me look for you,” Hester offered immediately. “Yes, unfortunately there is a large tear. I have a needle and thread in my reticule—may I mend it for you?” “Would you be so kind? It was torn by one of my partners, I’m afraid. He was a little boisterous in the country-dance. I did not want to disturb Mama, and I cannot find an attendant to help me.” “My cousin always carries a needle and thread, and I thought it might be useful this evening,” Hester said. She was busy as she spoke, and the tear was very quickly repaired. “There, that will do for now, though your own maid may make a better job another time.” “I am sure it is perfect as it is,” Geraldine said. “How kind you are. I am afraid I do not know your name.” “I am Miss Weston, Hester to my friends. We have not been introduced as yet, though you were pointed out to me. Everyone is talking of you, Miss Holbeach. You have many admirers.” Geraldine blushed. “Everyone has been so kind to me. I have no idea why. This was supposed to be just an informal visit with some friends. I shall have my season next year.” “You are bound to be a success.”

“All I wish for is to be happily married,” Geraldine said. “My sisters married well, and Mama says that she expects the same for me, but I would prefer a quiet gentleman like Papa. I like to visit town occasionally, but it would not suit me to be forever there. I am happier in the country with my horses and dogs.” “I think you are very wise,” Hester said. “But often one cannot choose whom one loves.” “Are you in love with someone?” “Oh no,” Hester disclaimed and blushed. “I thought once but . . .” She shook her head, wondering what had prompted her to make such a slip. “Is there a gentleman in particular that you like?” “Well, perhaps,” Geraldine admitted. “He isn’t rich, but that does not matter. He is a gentleman, and I think he likes me, but Mama says I should have my chance to see something of life before I settle. So I am to have a season in London next year, for I shall be eighteen quite soon.” “Your Mama is not against a marriage to this gentleman?” “Not if it is what I truly want.” It was Geraldine’s turn to blush, which she did very prettily. “But I have agreed to wait until after my season.” She laughed. “You will think me very forward, Miss Weston. I do not know what has gotten into me this evening! I have been chattering on, and you will think me a featherhead.” “No, no, I think you delightful,” Hester assured her for she had seldom felt so drawn to a new acquaintance. “But, please, will you not call me Hester?” “Oh, I should love to, and I am Geraldine.” She tossed her spun-gold ringlets, and her green eyes were alight with excitement, for it had been a truly wonderful evening for her. “Now, you must come and meet my friends.” Hester was very willing to be drawn into Geraldine’s charmed circle, for though the evening had been pleasant enough thus far, she was aware that she had no real friends. Geraldine led her towards a group of three people. Two were gentlemen, with one of whom Hester was already slightly acquainted. The third was a very attractive young girl with bright, inquisitive eyes. “These are my particular friends,” Geraldine announced with delightful candor. “Hester, I would like you to meet Miss Lucinda Mowbry, Captain Josh Farnham, and Captain Paul Crawford.” Her smile embraced them all. “Miss Hester Weston is my new friend. She has just repaired my gown, and I asked her to join us.” “That was kind of her,” Lucinda said. Like Geraldine, she was very pretty with soft pale hair, a sweet mouth and a merry smile. “You are very welcome, Hester. I noticed you earlier, for you have such an air about you that I thought you must be a lady of some distinction.” Hester’s laughter was instant and dismissive of any such claim. “I assure you, Lucinda, I am no one in particular.” Her heart was behaving very oddly, and she had no idea why—unless it was because she had recognized Captain Crawford. Although, of course, he would not remember her for they had met only fleetingly. “That I cannot accept,” Josh put in and grinned. “He laid a possessive hand on his fiancée’s arm. “Lucinda is right. There is something about you this evening that makes you stand out, Miss Weston. And I am delighted that I can claim a prior acquaintance.” “Oh . . .” Hester blushed. “I assure you that I have no wish to stand out, sir.” “You are embarrassing, Miss Weston,” Paul said, his gaze thoughtful as it rested on her face. “You must forgive them, Miss Weston. They are newly engaged, and I fear they are much taken with themselves.” His grave expression belied the sparkle of humor in his eyes.

“You wretch!” Lucinda cried. Her eyes were alight with laughter as she looked at Hester, not one whit put out by his comment. “Let me warn you of this wicked tease, Hester. He is the dearest man, and I adore him for he once saved the life of the person most important to me in the whole world, but he is a terrible flirt. You must not be taken in by him!” “Lucinda, my love,” Josh reproved with an air of mock reproof. “You will send Paul into the depths of despair, and reprobate though he may be, he is still my very best friend.” “You may rephrase that in the past tense, sir!” Everyone laughed at Paul’s air of outrage, which was as false as his demand. “How are you, Miss Weston?” Josh said. “We knew each other as children, I believe?” “Yes, of course.” She would not have claimed the friendship lest it should be denied. “I must congratulate you on your engagement, sir. And I wish you the best of happiness, Lucinda.” “Oh, I shall be happy,” Lucinda replied, looking at her fiancé with a confident air. Hester was about to offer a comment when she sensed a change in the atmosphere. Geraldine gave a little gasp of dismay, the color leaving her cheeks. “Oh no,” she said in a voice of doom. “I was hoping he would not be here this evening. What shall I do?” “Dance with me, Miss Holbeach.” Josh offered his hand. “Miss Weston, I shall hope to dance with you later.” Hester watched as the couple walked away. She wondered who had caused Geraldine to panic, and then her breath caught in her throat as she saw him. He had hesitated a moment as his quarry was snatched from beneath his nose, but then he came on, apparently undisturbed. Hester felt a surge of panic inside, wishing that she might flee. He was the last man she had expected to see this evening, for she believed him safely out of the country. She wished that the floor might open and let her through, for once he saw her, her attempt to be accepted into polite society would surely be over. Yet, something deep down inside her refused to let her run from the inevitable confrontation. He had stopped before their little group. He bowed his head, his darkly handsome face arrogant, his smile a leer of outrageous confidence. “Miss Mowbry, Captain Crawford.” He inclined his head, the mockery in his eyes. “It is a pleasure to meet you this evening. I understand you have been looking for me, sir? Perhaps we may meet in private one day?” He looked at Captain Crawford, a hint of challenge in his dark eyes. “Tomorrow at your earliest convenience at your lodgings,” Paul said, his expression one of such loathing that Hester was shocked. The polite gentleman who had teased Lucinda had disappeared behind a frozen mask. Hester stood as if turned to stone as Richard Mortimer’s eyes went over her and passed on. The grandson of an earl, she knew that his taste was for pert pretty girls, like Lucinda. Indeed, she had seen that spark in his eyes that told her, her friend had caught his interest. Fortunately, she was spoken for already. “In the morning at ten,” he said, inclining his head to Paul and then walking away once more. Hester felt so weak with relief that she thought she might faint. Unbeknown to her, the color had left her cheeks, and her eyes had reflected the fear and loathing she felt inside. Yet, her overwhelming feeling was one of joy. He had looked at her, and he had not known her! “Are you feeling quite well?” Paul asked, looking at her in concern. “You are a little pale, Miss Weston.”

“Thank you, sir. I believe it was a momentary thing,” Hester said and summoned a smile as her breathing returned to normal. “Perhaps you should dance with Miss Mowbry? I shall seek my cousin.” “Lucinda’s partner for this dance comes now, though somewhat tardily,” Paul said and moved to take her arm. “May I take you out to the balcony for a little air, Miss Weston? You still look pale.” Hester decided that it was easier to agree than to refuse. It would be perfectly respectable for the balcony would be in full view of the company and was well lit with tiny lanterns. “You are very kind, sir,” she said, allowing him to take her arm and steer her effortlessly through the crowded room. “Something upset you when Mortimer came up to us,” Paul said the moment when they were alone. “That gentleman is a person I believe to be guilty of crimes too despicable to speak of to a lady, Miss Weston. Please, tell me, have you some knowledge of him that might assist me in my attempts to have him placed where he deserves to be?” Hester stared at him. She was not truly surprised for she had sensed his loathing for Richard Mortimer at their meeting. “I knew him once a long time ago,” she said in a faint voice. “Pray do not ask me to say more on the subject for I cannot. Suffice it to say that I do not care for him.” “He did not remember you,” Paul said thoughtfully. “But you remembered him with some distress, I think?” His eyes were on her face, intent, searching, as if trying to read her mind. “He was once responsible for causing me some pain,” Hester replied with dignity. “That is all I may tell you, sir.” “I see. . . . Then I have no need to warn you of him?” “None at all, sir. I doubt that he would notice me these days.” “I have warned both Lucinda and Geraldine to treat Mortimer with extreme caution. He seems to have set his sights on Geraldine, who, if she has not already told you, is my cousin. Fortunately, she is a sensible girl and unlikely to have her head turned by him.” Hester recalled that her new friend had told her about a gentleman she liked very much, but she did not feel at liberty to reveal such a confidence to Geraldine’s cousin. “I dare say some young girls may find him attractive,” was all she would allow herself to say. “Then he may transfer his attentions elsewhere, for he will not be allowed near Geraldine if her family can help it.” “I am sure she will stay well clear of him if she can,” Hester replied. “Though, a man like that can be charming and persuasive if he wishes.” A shiver ran through her because simply thinking of the man who had first seduced her with kisses and then forced himself on her, robbing her of her innocence, was enough to bring back memories of all the pain and distress his callous behavior had caused her. “But should she be tempted, you may rely on me to counsel against him.” “Then I must ask no more questions,” Paul said. “Are you feeling any better, Miss Weston? It is a little cool out here after the heat of the ballroom.” He had noticed her shiver, but he could have no idea of the cause. Indeed, Hester would ruin all chance of an enjoyable visit if she revealed her terrible shame. She knew that she would probably never have another chance like this one, and she wanted to make the most of it. For as long as Richard Mortimer continued to have no memory of her, she was safe. After that, she would be forced to retire to the country once more. She had no chance of

making a marriage of any kind. Her father had made it quite clear that any decent man would turn from her in disgust if he once learned her history, and Hester believed him. “Yes, thank you, sir,” she said. “I have recovered my composure now. I thank you for your concern and would ask you to say nothing of my past . . . knowledge of that gentleman to anyone.” “Naturally, what you have told me is in confidence, as would anything else be that you might care to tell me in the future,” he said. “I shall not press you, Miss Weston, but let me say that I believe that man deserves either to be hanged or imprisoned.” “Perhaps you ought not to tell me that, sir,” she said. “Clearly you do not have the proof you need, and were it to be overheard, you might be liable to prosecution for slander.” “I thank you for your consideration, but I know you will not repeat my words, and we are quite alone.” Paul smiled at her. “And now I shall return you to the ballroom before our friends think I have kidnapped you, Miss Weston.” She smiled, for his presence had been reassuring and she liked his smile. Lucinda had warned her that he was a terrible flirt, though without a trace of malice. He was therefore not a rake for the girl would never have spoken in such a way had he been guilty of such behavior. A flirt was acceptable, even amusing to know, Hester thought. And as she had no intention of being foolish enough to give her heart to any man, she could enjoy a friendship with him without harm to either. **** Paul escorted Hester back to the group of gentlemen and ladies gathered around Lucinda and Geraldine. He saw Josh’s brows rise but merely smiled in a bland way that made his friend shake his head in amusement. “Miss Weston is not the widow of your dreams, my friend,” Josh said when Hester had accepted an offer to dance with someone else. “No, indeed,” Paul replied urbanely. “Nor do I intend making her an offer of any kind. She is a very interesting young woman, but I do not believe she is here looking for a husband.” “No? That surprises me,” Josh said. “She must be twenty-five or thereabouts. If she does not catch a husband soon, it may be too late for her.” “Do you think so?” Paul’s brows rose. “I imagine Miss Weston would make a pleasant enough companion for life, but as I have previously told you, I do not think she looks for a husband.” Paul was privately of the opinion that Hester had suffered some kind of disappointment or hurt. She was clearly wary of Richard Mortimer, and she disliked him. Perhaps he had hurt her as a young girl in some way? It was possible that he had led her to believe he cared and then gone off without saying good-bye to her. Perhaps he had broken her heart, and she had never forgiven him? It was common knowledge that Mortimer’s father had banished him abroad for various misdemeanors, although the Earl had now invited him back as the prodigal son by all accounts. Paul knew that he was the man who had offered him the contracts for the faulty cannon, that he had lied and given a false name was clear. Yet, even being able to identify him was not enough to have him arrested and sent to prison, if not hanged. Hanging was Paul’s favorite option, but he knew that he could not yet prove his accusations. Mortimer’s word might be taken above that of Edward Hanwell. Paul believed that the cannon had not come

from Hanwell’s foundry, but it would be difficult to prove. Each piece had borne the foundry’s stamp and it was a case of one man’s word against another’s. When one of those men was the heir to an earldom, it was unlikely that the commoner would be believed. He needed something more, though he knew that it would take a great deal of searching to find it. Mortimer was now his grandfather’s heir, which meant he was unlikely to become involved in such a fraud again. Yet, he was arrogant, sure of himself, and his arrogance would possibly lead him into trouble. Paul did not particularly care how he was brought down, as long as he could be adequately punished for the lives he had so wantonly destroyed. He had men searching for the foundry, which had made those faulty cannon, and he knew that Mr. Hanwell was also trying to find the source. He was equally as angry as Paul over the deception for it reflected on the good name of his works. Between them, they might find the foundry responsible for such shoddy work, and then it was a matter of persuading the guilty man to talk. That might be done by various methods, though money had a way of loosening the tongue of most. He watched Miss Weston dancing, smiling up at her partner in a quiet, dignified way. She did have an air or a presence about her. Lucinda had been perfectly right about that, though he had seen laughter in her eyes when she’d joined in their banter earlier. Paul admitted to himself that he found her interesting. Had he been younger, less experienced in affairs of the heart, he might have fallen headlong in love with her. However, he had learned that beautiful women were not always to be trusted, and there was a mystery about Miss Weston. Something in her past life that she was hiding from public gaze, perhaps? He smiled inwardly, knowing that his interest was more than just a passing thing. Had Hester been a widow, he would probably have tried to begin an affair with her, but she was unmarried and of good character. Therefore, he must either pay court to her or leave her alone. He was fairly certain that any attempt to court her would be met with a rebuff, so that left him at an impasse. It seemed that it would be best to keep their relationship, if there was to be one, as a polite friendship. “Are you not going to dance with me?” Geraldine was at his elbow, looking up at him. “I think that man has gone now. Thank goodness I did not have to dance with him.” “You should never dance with him,” Paul told her, a grave expression on his face. “Be careful never to let him catch you alone, Geraldine, and give him no excuse to touch you. I think him a dangerous man, and I would not like to see you in his toils.” “There is no fear of that,” Geraldine replied. “Oh, we are going into supper now. Please, do ask Miss Weston and her companion to join us, Paul. I want Mama to ask them to our evening next week.” “Yes, of course. I shall convey your invitation,” Paul said and walked leisurely towards Miss Weston and the countess of Danbury. He made his bow to the countess. “Ladies, Miss Holbeach begs the favor of your company at supper. I believe she would like her Mama to make your acquaintance.” “I know Lady Holbeach slightly,” the countess said. “I am giving a little card party myself in ten days time. If you are still in Bath, sir, I should be delighted to welcome you.” “My time is not always my own,” Paul replied with a slight bow of his head. “But if I am not called away, I shall be delighted to attend.” ****

Hester looked at him gravely. She believed that she understood his reluctance to commit himself, for it had become clear to her that he was a man with a mission. However, he was a perfectly pleasant companion and since her cousin had accepted his invitation, she must be pleased to be counted amongst his friends that evening. At supper, Hester found herself liking Geraldine and Lucinda more and more, and she was delighted when they formed an arrangement to meet the next morning. Charlotte and Lady Holbeach were to meet at the Pump Room to take the waters, and the young people would go walking and visit the shops, joining the older ladies for luncheon The rest of the evening passed very quickly, for having become one of their group Hester was never allowed to remain seated during the dancing. She found the time so pleasant that she was surprised when Charlotte told her they must leave. She bid her new friends goodnight and left with her cousin, feeling happier than she had for a long, long time. When they were back at their lodgings, Charlotte looked at her with a little smile on her lips that made Hester ask why she was amused. “I smile because the evening went so well, my love,” her cousin said. “You were a little nervous at the start, I believe, but you have found friends, and I think you enjoyed yourself.” “Lucinda and Geraldine are such charming girls,” Hester said. “They made me so welcome that I could not help enjoying myself.” “And the gentlemen, too,” Charlotte said with a quirk of her mouth. “Did you not think Captain Crawford a pleasing companion?” “He was very kind to me,” Hester replied for he had danced with her twice when she had no other partner. “Yes, he is a very nice gentleman.” “Nice is not the word I should apply to Captain Crawford,” her cousin told her. “I know he is spoken of as a flirt, but I think any man with his looks and fortune would naturally have a few female admirers—and mistresses, of course. Yet, they say that rakes make the best husbands.” “Oh, I think you wrong him, Charlotte,” Hester cried. “Captain Crawford is much too serious a gentleman to be called a rake. I dare say he has his . . . mistresses.” She blushed faintly. “But that does not truly make him a rake, does it?” “No, dearest, I was merely teasing,” Charlotte said. “But I dare say we shall not see so very much of him for I believe he is a busy man.” “Yes, I think he has something much on his mind,” Hester said. She had not told her cousin of her conversation with Paul on the balcony, but she retained the impression that he had some kind of mission that was more important to him than his personal life. She was pleasantly tired when she prepared for bed that evening, and slept almost as soon as her head touched the pillow. The memory of her brief meeting with Richard Mortimer had been banished by the friendship she had discovered and her dreams were pleasant rather than tortured by memories of the past. Hester was not the only one to be thinking of Richard Mortimer that night. Paul was eager for the interview, though he had no doubt that Mortimer would deny any wrong doing, but at least he could fire the first warning shot across the man’s bows. Perhaps if he became aware that Paul was breathing down his neck he might become careless. … Hester chose a grey-striped silk twill, walking gown for her outing the next morning, teaming it with a black fringed pelisse of a deeper grey and a bonnet of bleached straw trimmed with a scarlet ribbon that tied under her chin. She carried a black velvet reticule and gloves of soft scarlet leather to match the ribbon on her bonnet.

“Yes, my love,” Charlotte approved when she came down that morning. “That touch of scarlet lifts the ensemble out of the ordinary, for, otherwise, the black and grey might mislead others into thinking you in mourning.” “Papa has been dead only nine months,” Hester replied. “Most of my clothes are either grey trimmed with black or of a dark hue. Mama would not allow colors.” “I see,” Charlotte said with a frown. “We must see what we can do about your wardrobe, dearest. Your gowns were well enough for the country, but you need a new touch.” “Surely not?” Hester said. “I have the evening gown you bought me, Cousin, and another two that I had before my father died. I have worn each of them only once. Besides, I am not here to catch a husband but as a companion for you.” “And I am so grateful for your company,” Charlotte replied. “But I believe we must ask Madame Fouquet to make more gowns for you, Hester. Now that you have made such delightful friends you will not care to appear less fashionable than they are.” “No.” Hester frowned. She had not envisaged having a whole new wardrobe, believing that she could get away with little touches like the scarlet ribbon and gloves. “But the expense would fall on you, cousin, for Mama did not give me sufficient funds to buy several new gowns.” “And that is exactly what I intended,” Charlotte told her with an affectionate smile. “I think we shall ask Madame Fouquet to call on us tomorrow and see what she feels would be suitable.” Hester did not argue the point. Her cousin would not say so, but it might reflect on her if Hester were to be branded dowdy. Besides, she could not help thinking that it would be nice to have some fashionable clothes again. A carriage had been brought round to take them to the Pump Rooms, but once there, the young people met up and decided that they would walk to the shops. It was a very pleasant July day, the sun almost hot so that they needed the pretty parasols they carried to protect their complexions from the sun, for it was not fashionable to have freckles and they must have resorted to one of the lotions available to keep their skins fair. Hester could hardly believe that she was in Bath and in such happy company, and it seemed as if she had emerged from a long dark tunnel into the light. **** Paul was shown into a small private parlor at the lodgings where Richard Mortimer was staying and asked to wait. He was left for some minutes to tap his heels impatiently, but then Mortimer came in. “Forgive me for keeping you waiting, Crawford. Our meeting had slipped my mind for a moment and I was not quite dressed.” “I imagine you know why I have come?” Paul said, his eyes narrowed with anger. “The cannon you sold me were faulty and men were killed.” “Yes, I was sorry to hear it,” Mortimer said. “But you must know that I acted for the foundry and received only a small commission. I would offer to return it, but I hardly think it would compensate?” “You are right, it would not,” Paul said, controlling his temper with difficulty. “Do you ask me to believe that you offered me that contract in good faith? Do you say that you had no idea that Hanwell’s company did not forge them? Or that they were inferior goods?” “As I told you, I was merely a go-between. I was approached to make the contract and to be paid when I handed it over, that was the limit of my involvement.”

“Did it not strike you as suspicious that you should be approached in the matter?” “The person who paid me was not a gentleman,” Mortimer replied. “He argued that he would be at a disadvantage and asked if I would undertake the commission.” “But you told me that you were Joseph Hanwell . . .” “No, indeed, you are mistaken. I told you that I represented Hanwell’s company, as I believed I did. Good grief, Crawford—I am not a murderer or a traitor. My brother was killed fighting for the army.” “I believe there was little love lost between you?” “Then you believe wrongly,” Mortimer said, his lips drawn into a thin line. “I had no time for my father, but as it happens, I cared for Simon—though that is none of your business.” “No, perhaps not,” Paul agreed. “Very well, I must take your word for the moment, sir. As yet, I have no proof that the cannon sold to us were deliberately spiked—but I am working to discover the truth, and I must warn you that it is my intention to bring the guilty men to justice.” “And I must tell you that you may go to Hell,” Mortimer said, a sneer on his lips. “Think what you please, Crawford, and be damned to you! I was as much a victim as you—but if you refuse to take my word, I’ll waste no more on you. Good day, sir. I wish you luck with your search.” Paul narrowed his eyes. Mortimer might be telling the truth, but on the other hand, he might be a clever schemer. For the moment, there was no more to be done, but he would not give up until he had seen justice done for the men who had lost their lives. “Then I shall leave you for the moment,” he said and walked to the door, where he turned and looked back. “But be warned, sir. I intend to discover the truth no matter how long it takes.” **** The next few days passed in a whirl of pleasure for Hester. In the mornings, she met Geraldine and Lucinda to go walking or shopping. Sometimes they visited the library or the Pump Room with Charlotte and Lady Holbeach or partook of delicious cakes and coffee in charming little rooms where the ladies met to gossip and while away the hours. In the afternoons, they often went driving to places of interest or local beauty spots. Josh Farnham was their usual escort, though Captain Crawford accompanied them on several occasions, and a certain Mr. Thomas Jones was quite often to be found wherever they happened to be. “Mr. Jones likes you, Hester,” Geraldine teased her after they had bumped into him for the third time in as many days. “I believe you have an admirer.” Hester shook her head, for she suspected that the handsome, though rather shy Mr Jones, was far more interested in Geraldine than in her. Indeed, she believed he might be the admirer her friend had spoken of in confidence. However, she did not tease her over it, because Mr. Jones was only one of many gentlemen who flocked about Geraldine. She to her credit treated them all with an equally shy charm that only made them redouble their efforts to engage her attention. As Geraldine’s friend, Hester was a valuable member of their group, and her quiet but friendly manner had drawn more admirers than she had any idea. Her air of coolness had found favor with the older ladies, even if some of the gentlemen had begun to call her the citadel and wager on the chances of various gentlemen who had set their sights on winning her.

Hester would have been disquieted had she learned that more than one gentleman had thoughts of marriage, but since she was unaware of their private thinking, she was able to enjoy herself without worrying. It was for her a time of pure delight, like a thirsty soul drinking at the well of heaven, and she was determined to make the most of her stay however brief it might be.

Chapter Three On the evening that began their second week in Bath, they had been invited to a private dance given by Lady Blackwater. Her nephew Henry, a handsome gentleman of whom she was very fond, had joined her in Bath. As her favorite, Henry was expected to inherit a large part of her fortune. She introduced him to Geraldine with an air of expectancy, clearly hoping he would take to the pretty young woman of whom she approved. Henry, mindful of his aunt’s fortune, obligingly asked Geraldine to dance, but gravitated to Hester’s side shortly afterwards. “Will you grant me the honor of a dance, Miss Weston?” “Thank you, sir.” Hester checked her card. “Yes, as it happens I am free for the next.” Hester had carefully kept three spaces on her card in case Captain Crawford should ask her for a dance, but he had not yet arrived. She willingly accepted Mr. Blackwater as Captain Crawford’s substitute, and since he was a pleasant companion as well as an excellent dancer, she enjoyed herself very much. Indeed, Mr. Blackwater was truly one of the most striking gentlemen present. He had a most elegant figure, dark eyes, and short, fashionably cut hair. His cravats rivalled any that Beau Brummell might have sported in his heyday. As if that were not enough, he had a droll humor, and his comments about various gentlemen, who considered themselves to be high steppers and fine fellows, made her laughter ring out again and again. She had seldom enjoyed herself more for he had a wicked sense of fun. “You are a terrible tease, sir,” she charged him, tapping her fan lightly on his arm. “I do not believe you should say such things to me.” “But it makes you laugh, and you look so delightful when you laugh, Miss Weston, that I cannot think it wrong. Indeed, I would do far more for the privilege of amusing you. You can have no idea of how charmingly you laugh.” “Oh no, do not say it,” Hester denied with a flush. She found him charming company, but his compliment frightened her because she could not permit him to come too close. He seemed to approve of her, but what would he think if he knew her shameful secret? “But I must say it for it is true and I am a very honest fellow, don’t you know? Now, look at that turban, Miss Weston. It patently outshines my aunt’s own and that is an achievement of moment, do you not agree?” Hester looked at the towering monstrosity of purple, yellow, and gold and understood perfectly. She had the greatest difficulty in hiding her mirth for the turban was quite the worst she had seen in an age. “Sir, you are incorrigible,” she said in mock disapproval but inwardly she was smiling. “And now I believe your aunt looks for you and my next partner will soon on his way to claim me.” She left him and went to join Geraldine and Lucinda. Geraldine was looking unusually pale, and she complained of a headache, which was most unlike her. “I think it must be the heat. Is it stuffy in here? Or is it just me?” she asked. “It is a little over-warm,” Hester said. “Shall we go outside to the terrace for a few minutes? Or would you prefer to go home?” “No, no, I am sure I shall be well enough once I have cooled down,” Geraldine assured her. “Lucinda’s partner comes now. Would you mind accompanying me, Hester?” “You know I shall not. Come, let us go at once.” They walked together to the long French windows, which were opened to let some air into the room, but the press of bodies and the heat of the candles had combined to make it

almost unbearable. The terrace had been strung with pretty lanterns that hung from poles, and beyond in the trees there were more lanterns that twinkled as they swayed a little in the slight breeze. One or two other ladies and gentlemen were taking the air, but the girls soon found themselves alone as they strolled to the far end of the terrace, where deep-scented yellow roses were spilling over the stone balustrade. “Oh, how gorgeous they smell,” Geraldine said. “I am so foolish to have this wretched head!” “You cannot help having the headache.” “I have not been sleeping well,” Geraldine confessed. She looked at Hester oddly, her bottom lip trembling as she asked, “May I confide in you please?” “Yes, of course, if you wish. You know that I shall respect your confidence.” “It is so uncomfortable, but I have not wanted to tell Mama, because it would upset her terribly.” “Does it concern the gentleman who so obviously admires you?” “Oh no. Thomas is the sweetest thing and never causes me the least distress. It is the letters. . . .” She blushed. “I have received five of them so far.” She hesitated, then said, “I think I am being blackmailed.” “Blackmailed?” Hester was shocked. “But why?” “It concerns my youngest brother William,” Geraldine said. “The first letter purported to be from an admirer, and I simply ignored it for it was unsigned. The second told me that the writer had some news of William, and it was signed by a well-wisher, but I knew it was from the same person for I recognized the hand. And then . . .” She gave a little sob. “The others have seemed to threaten me. They said that unless I agreed to meet the writer alone, he would expose my brother for cheating at the card table.” Hester was horrified, for it was one of the worst things that could happen to a young man, and even if it were proved false, the mud would stick to him forever and his reputation would be tarnished. “That is blackmail. You must continue to ignore the letters, Geraldine. No true gentleman would send such a letter to a young lady. And they must have come from a gentleman, I think.” “Oh yes, I think so.” Geraldine’s eyes held a look of apprehension. “I believe I know who may have sent them. I have refused to have anything to do with him thus far, and this could be his revenge.” “Can you mean . . . Richard Mortimer?” Hester read the answer in her eyes. “You must never agree to meet him. He is a dangerous man, ruthless. Please, promise me you will not give into his blackmail!” “But what of William? Supposing Mortimer does what he has threatened? My brother would not cheat. I am easy on that score, but he has a hasty temper. If accused, he would call Mortimer out, and he might be killed.” “Could you not tell your Mama?” Geraldine shook her head emphatically. “Why not write to your brother? Warn him never to play cards with Richard Mortimer.” “Yes, I have considered that,” Geraldine said looking thoughtful. “Except that William would probably come haring down here and find a way of challenging him. He is such a firepot! That is why I fear for him. I know that he would not walk away from a fight.” “There is an alternative,” Hester said. “Speak to Captain Crawford. I believe he might be the right person to advise you.”

“I had intended to do so this evening,” Geraldine said, “but he has gone off somewhere on important business. I think to Yorkshire or some such place. He may be gone for some days.” “Nevertheless, you must continue as before,” Hester stressed the point. “Believe me, Geraldine. I know that man. He is not suitable for you to meet alone. He is ruthless and . . . inconsiderate of other’s feelings. You do so at your peril.” Geraldine’s eyes widened. “Has he hurt you, Hester dearest?” “Yes. Once, a long time ago.” She hesitated, then, “I cannot tell you all, but he ruined my life. He does not remember me now, and I thank God for it but . . . he broke my heart.” Other factors had contributed to her misery, but it had been Richard Mortimer who had seduced and had left her to her father’s anger. “Then I shall have nothing to do with him, but I shall write to William and warn him that he may have an enemy who may try to trap him and then accuse him of cheating at cards—and what you have told me, Hester, remains with me. None shall hear it from my lips.” “I know that you would never betray a confidence. Are you feeling a little better? Shall we return to the ballroom or would you rather go home?” “I am very much better now that I have spoken to you.” Geraldine’s color had returned, and she seemed happier. “Then I am pleased I could help a little.” The two ladies returned to the ballroom and their friends, and Hester was gratified to see that Geraldine smiling again as she allowed her partner to take her onto the dance floor. However, an hour or so later she happened to see Richard Mortimer making his way towards them. Knowing that Geraldine had for some unaccountable reason left a space on her dance card, she turned to Henry Blackwater urgently. “Please take Geraldine as your partner. Ask no questions, do it!” “At your service, Miss Weston!” Henry’s eyes danced with amusement as he whisked Geraldine off from under the nose of the outraged Richard Mortimer. Hester was, for a moment, alone. Mortimer came up to her. She steeled herself to withstand his glare. She had feared him the first time that she saw him in company, but she had learned to control her nerves and was able to greet him with a cool nod. His gaze went over her. Hester was looking particularly lovely that evening in a fashionable gown of deep emerald and, had she known it, her preference for rich colors made her stand out from the young girls dressed in white or pastels. She had an air about her, something that had become more marked this week as she gained in confidence. “Do I know you?” Mortimer asked. His brow creased as he struggled with an elusive memory. “No, I believe not,” Hester lied. Inside, she was trembling, but outwardly, she remained calm, a little aloof. She was not the young innocent who had fallen for his charm and been so cruelly betrayed. “I seem to remember you from somewhere but the memory escapes me.” There was a sudden predatory gleam in his dark eyes. “Will you dance?” “I thank you, no,” she replied with dignity. “My partner comes now.” She smiled as the young man came up to her. “Our dance I believe, Mr. Jones.” “Yes, Miss Weston.” He bowed and took her hand. A slight, fair man he had a gentle air about him that was appealing to a very young girl, and for her own part, Hester liked him well. She believed he would make Geraldine happy if they were to wed. “Was that gentleman

annoying you?” he asked as they joined the other dancers. “I believe he is a gentleman of unsavory character and you might do well to avoid being alone with him.” “You do not need to warn me, sir,” Hester said with a little shiver. “I have no wish to speak to that particular gentleman at all.” **** Had Hester realized that Mortimer’s eyes continued to follow her for the rest of the evening she would not have slept a wink that night. Fortunately, the gentleman in question had not yet recalled just where he had seen the enigmatic Miss Weston, but she intrigued him. Had he not been certain that Geraldine Holbeach had been left twenty thousand pounds by her godmother Lady Furnley, he might have abandoned his quarry in favor of Miss Weston. **** Paul sat his horse, looking down at the foundry built on the outskirts of Yorkshire. He had arranged to meet Mr. Joseph Hanwell at a nearby tavern to discuss his findings before paying the owner of the foundry a little visit. As he had expected, Mr. Hanwell was every bit as outraged over the fraud as he. That the owner of this foundry could be persuaded to tell them what they needed to know was to be hoped. Joseph Hanwell greeted him with a grim smile as he entered the tavern, which was a poor sort of place that smelled strongly of spilled ale and body odors. It looked in need of a thorough clean, but Paul had encountered worse during his campaigns abroad, and he ignored the stink of some of the worst customers as he joined the man he sought at a table in the corner. They shook hands and sat down over a tankard of ale, which both ignored. “My news is not good, sir,” Hanwell said at once. “Stern’s foundry is undoubtedly the source of the shoddy work that killed your men. They were cast there and our mark forged in the metal. I knew the work as soon as I saw the cannon you withdrew and had shipped back to England as proof. Walter Stern once worked for me. I dismissed him for dishonesty and bad workmanship. However, I fear our quest has come to an unsatisfactory end.” “Why? I believe I may persuade our friend to loosen his tongue one way or the other.” Paul frowned, his eyes icy cold, akin to a mountain stream, his mouth hard. “Aye, I do not doubt it, sir,” Hanwell replied. “But unless you can raise a dead man from his grave, I fear his secrets remain lost.” “Dead man? You are saying that the owner of the foundry is dead?” “Yes, sir. This three weeks past.” Paul swore, furious at being thus frustrated, and Hanwell nodded his agreement. “Aye, curse away, captain. There has been foul play, and I believe we know who is behind it.” “You think our man murdered Stern?” “He leaves a widow. Mistress Judith Stern and their young son are left penniless. They know nothing except that he was anxious for a week or so before he was killed. Mistress Stern believes that he went to meet a customer the morning that he was beaten to death.” “The devil he did!” Paul ejaculated. “It seems our man will stop at nothing to cover his tracks!” He hesitated, then, “Will Mistress Stern see me? I would not distress her at such a time, but I should like to speak with her. She believes that she knows nothing but she may recall something—a small detail that may help us.”

“I am sure that she will talk to you, sir. The foundry is in debt and must be sold. Her husband had been struggling to make it pay for some time. I imagine that is why he was persuaded to produce the faulty cannon, for not even his work was that shoddy as a rule.” “He would have been vulnerable to a little bribery?” Paul smiled at him. “Yes, I believe you are right. I am indebted to you, Mr. Hanwell. You have done better than you imagine.” Whoever had murdered Mrs Stern’s husband must be seriously rattled to stoop to such desperate measures. A desperate man always made mistakes, and when he did, Paul would be waiting. Hester saw that Geraldine was distressed when they met again the next morning. She soon discovered the reason when her friend gave her a letter to read. Scanning it, she could not doubt that someone was determined to exert pressure on the girl. “Are you sure you do not wish to show this to your mama?” “She would send for Papa and he has been unwell,” Geraldine said looking pale and upset. “Either that or she would say that we must go home at once. We are here for another week and it would spoil things for everyone else. Lucinda could not stay if we left for her mother entrusted her to our care.” “Then shall we speak to Josh Farnham?” Hester said, wishing that Captain Crawford would return. “Or would you like me to speak to him? I mean Viscount Mortimer. I could make it clear that you wish for nothing to do with him.” “Oh no, I could not ask it of you,” Geraldine said. “You are my friend, and I think he might try to harm you.” “Then you must continue to ignore him and hope that Captain Crawford returns soon. I am sure that your cousin will know what to do.” She smiled reassuringly, though she was anxious for her friend because Mortimer might well choose Captain Crawford’s absence as the time to strike. Hester decided that she would stay close to her friend at all times. Strangely enough, she had lost her own fear of Richard Mortimer through a desire to protect the young girl. He should not harm Geraldine if she could prevent it. “Where are we going tomorrow?” she asked hoping to change the subject and lift Geraldine’s mood of apprehension. “Lucinda wants to visit a ruined abbey she has heard of,” Geraldine said and summoned a smile. “And I think it will be quite amusing for it is said to be haunted, though I dare say we shall not see the ghost. If a party of us could go together, we might eat our luncheon al fresco. Mama says she shall come with us if we wish and perhaps Countess Danbury would care to accompany us?” “Yes, I am sure Charlotte would be delighted,” Hester agreed at once. “We are invited to Lady Leominster’s card party this evening, but I think you do not go?” “No, we have an invitation to Mrs. Beswick’s soiree. She is Mama’s very dear friend and we always attend her evenings.” “Then we shall meet again tomorrow.” Hester was thoughtful as she parted company with the younger girl. It distressed her to think that Richard Mortimer was hounding Geraldine. Even had he wished to marry her, he would make her unhappy for she needed someone kind and gentle to look after her. Yet, Hester could do little if Geraldine would not consent to speak of the situation to her mama or brother. However, she would remain watchful and do what she could to protect her friend if the need arose. That afternoon she sat at home quietly with Charlotte and read one of the library books she had borrowed for unusually they had no engagements.

The evening passed swiftly for Hester. Soon after they arrived, Mr. Henry Blackwater sauntered into the salon. He greeted his hostess and a few friends and then gravitated to Hester side, begging her to be his partner at whisk. She accepted with pleasure and was kept entertained for the next few hours by his droll remarks and impudent looks. He had, he told her, taken a grand tour of Europe, and his descriptions of Italy were particularly interesting. “We play well together,” he told Hester when everyone abandoned the tables in favor of supper. “You are an intelligent player, Miss Weston. It is as I expected for everything about you is quite perfect.” Hester blushed at the extravagant compliment. “No, no, sir, you do me too much honor. I assure you, I am very ordinary.” “Not in my eyes. You must know that I find you delightful company. Had I not known you would be here this evening I dare say I should not have bothered to attend, for they play for small stakes and I might find more exciting play elsewhere. But no card game would be as enjoyable as the evening I have spent in your company, Miss Weston.” Hester did not know what to say. She was relieved when Charlotte came up to them but then a little dismayed as her cousin invited him to their outing the next morning. For some reason she could not quite determine, she did not want him to become an intimate friend. “It will be a little dull for you, sir—but we need some more gentlemen in the party, for otherwise we shall be almost all ladies.” “I shall be delighted to accompany you,” Henry said and kissed his fingers to her. “I cannot think I shall be dull in your company, ma’am—or Miss Weston’s.” The look that passed between them and Charlotte's expression of satisfaction warned Hester that she imagined her scheme to find her a husband might be succeeding. It was not the case, however. Much as she enjoyed Henry Blackwater’s company, the idea that he might be forming affection for her was disconcerting. She was here to bear her cousin company and not to receive an offer of marriage. Her background would not endear her to Henry’s aunt if it was discovered, nor did she feel that she could confess her secret to him. However, she concealed her dismay, for gentlemen like Henry often paid compliments to young ladies, and on reflection, she could not think that he was serious after such a short acquaintance. After supper, convention obliged them to take different partners for the second round of cards, and Hester could only smile at Henry across the room as she and Charlotte left the salon just before eleven o’clock. Some of the guests continued to play until late into the night, but, as Charlotte said, “We shall not want to be too late up this evening or we shall be tired before the day has begun, Hester dearest. We shall enjoy our outing more if we get a good night’s sleep.” Hester smiled and agreed, though privately she thought that she might not sleep as easily as her cousin that night. In the end Hester slept well enough for she decided that it would be foolish to worry over something that might never happen. Mr. Blackwater was always teasing her. No doubt, his remarks had meant little but light flirtation, and even if he should ask leave to court her, Mrs. Weston would refuse her permission. Indeed, should he speak to her of his hopes, Hester would refuse as gently as she could. That morning she dressed in a pale grey carriage gown with a pelisse of dark blue, a chip straw bonnet tied with ribbons to match her pelisse and black kid boots. Hester’s boots had only small heels and were intended for walking once they arrived at the ruins. She carried a small grey silk parasol and a little black-beaded reticule. When she met the others, she saw that Lucinda had chosen pretty grey leather shoes that matched her striped silk gown but

were impractical for walking far. However, because Geraldine had also chosen sensible boots, the two of them would be able to explore quite happily. The party set out in a little convoy of carriages, and the servants who would serve luncheon and look after them followed in the coach behind. Lucinda, Geraldine and Hester were in one open carriage with Mr. Farnham, while the older ladies travelled in a second; the other gentlemen accompanied the little cavalcade on horseback, riding on ahead sometimes and then returning to wave or mention some place of interest. An hour before noon, they reached the ruins, feeling very warm. Charlotte and Lady Holbeach settled themselves on chairs the servants had set out for them in the shade of some trees while the younger members of the party set out to explore the exciting ruins. The old stone walls had crumbled almost to the ground in places, but in others, a wall remained and there was a good part of the chapel left standing, but much overgrown with brambles. However, there was a brooding air about the chapel ruins that made Lucinda shiver and declare that they might see the spectre of the displaced monks at any time. The party set out to explore, but Lucinda soon complained that the ground was too uneven and lagged behind with Mr. Farnham, perhaps to seize the chance for a secret kiss, Hester thought, smiling inwardly. The couple was so obviously happy and so much in love. However, she and Geraldine continued to explore the rest of the ruins with Mr. Blackwater and Mr. Jones as their escorts. The countryside was very pretty, with lots of ancient trees, green meadows where sheep and horses grazed, and a tiny stream that meandered over a rocky bed. Hester felt a sense of peace as she wandered in the ancient chapel, thinking of the monks who had once worked and lived here thanking God for all they had. Lucinda had soon had enough of exploring and called to them that it was time for lunch. Obediently, they all returned to where the servants had set up little tables and chairs so that they could have their alfresco meal in comfort. It was a delicious meal consisting of cold chicken, ham, pasties, cheese and bread, together with a selection of pickles and preserves, and washed down with a light sparkling wine. After their meal, the older ladies declared that they meant to rest and gossip to their hearts’ content. However, the young members of the party had no such desires. Lucinda suggested that they should play a game of cricket, which the gentlemen greeted with enthusiasm. Geraldine and Hester joined in, but Geraldine was out first ball and wandered off in the direction of the ruins once more. Hester took her turn at the bat and sent her ball deliberately high and short so Lucinda could catch it easily. She laughingly asked to be excused and, picking up her parasol, set off after Geraldine, who had disappeared from sight. She was not sure what had prompted her to follow, but as she entered the ruins, she blessed the intuition that had made her act as she had. Geraldine was struggling in the unwelcome embrace of a ruffian. Hester was shocked and did not hesitate; rushing in with no thought of her own safety, she wielded her parasol to good effect, beating the man about his head and face as hard as she could. “Let her go!” she demanded fiercely. “How dare you attack a lady, you wicked man?” Her efforts with the parasol added to Geraldine’s own frantic struggle, causing the man to let go of his prey and to put a hand to his face to where Hester had drawn blood. He scowled at her but said nothing, backing away and then turning to make off in the opposite direction of which their friends could be heard playing cricket.

“Are you all right?” Hester asked, looking at her anxiously. “What was he trying to do to you?” “I think he meant to abduct me,” Geraldine replied, looking pale and shaken. “He told me that he had a message from my brother and that I was to go with him at once. I was immediately suspicious, for I know that William would never send someone like that to fetch me. When I refused, that man tried to take hold of me. I think that if you had not come, he might have managed to drag me off.” “But how could he have hoped to abduct you in the middle of the day?” And how had his master known that they would be here at this particular time? Perhaps more importantly—who was his master? Could it have been Viscount Mortimer? “He said he had a carriage waiting and would take me to William, who was in some trouble and needed my help. I think whoever planned this knows how close I am to Will and thought I would go willingly.” “Whoever sent him knew of our plans to come here today,” Hester said with a frown. “Yet who could have known?” “He was at the soirée last evening,” Geraldine said. “I saw him watching us when Lucinda was speaking of wanting to visit the ruins. I think he must have planned this . . .” She broke off shuddering. “You mean Richard Mortimer?” Hester felt chilled as her friend nodded, confirming her own fears. “Yes, I believe you may well be right. It is the kind of thing he might do on the spur of the moment.” She felt anxious for her friend. “We must tell someone. This is too serious to ignore.” “Please do not,” Geraldine begged looking at her pleadingly. “I shall be more careful in future. Nothing very much happened and we cannot know for certain who sent that man here. I may be wrong to think that it was Viscount Mortimer. As the heir to an earldom it is unlikely that he would risk his good name in such a cause—and yet, I cannot think of anyone else who would send me such wicked letters.” “I am almost certain that he must be the culprit,” Hester said. “A title does not change a man’s character.” She sighed for discretion prevented from telling her friend the very thing that would convince her. “Oh, I do wish Captain Crawford were here. He would know what to do.” “He will return soon,” Geraldine assured her. “Do not worry, Hester. I am not harmed, and I know Mama would instantly return home if she knew what had happened this afternoon.” Hester was uneasy in her mind as they returned to their friends. She would have preferred to speak to Lady Holbeach on the matter but could not betray Geraldine’s confidence. She could only hope that Captain Crawford would return to Bath very soon. **** Paul frowned as he set out that morning. His attempts to persuade some memory from the widow Stern had met with little success. She had been willing to tell him anything she knew, but unfortunately her husband had kept his business separate and she knew nothing other than that he was frightened of a gentleman with whom he had had some dealings. “He did say as he wished he’d never done it, but he took the gentleman’s money and he was caught in a trap. I think he did something bad, sir, and that’s why he was in trouble.” She looked at Paul in distress. “If I knew I would surely tell you, sir, for I am sorrowed to think that my poor husband went to his grave a sinner.”

Paul refrained from telling her the truth, for the poor woman had more than enough to grieve her. He gave her some money, thanked her, and set out for Bath once more. He did not know why, but he had a feeling he was needed there and decided to make all speed. **** Because of Paul’s decision to return to Bath immediately, Hester’s hopes were rewarded sooner than she might have hoped. She saw his commanding figure as soon as she entered the Assembly Rooms the next evening. He came up to her shortly after she and Charlotte arrived. “Miss Weston.” His eyes were dark with anger, and she knew that Geraldine must have told him of the incident at the abbey ruins. “I believe I owe you a debt of gratitude.” “No, indeed, sir. What I did was for Geraldine’s sake.” Her relief showed plainly as she gazed up at him. “You have no idea how pleased I am to see you here this evening. I have been anxious for Geraldine, but now I believe I may be easier in my mind.” “You may certainly leave this sordid affair in my hands. Mortimer will not insult my cousin again.” “I was sure that everything would be more comfortable once you returned, sir.” Hester’s eyes were warm with trust and belief in his power to protect his cousin. Paul felt a jolt of extreme pleasure as he saw the manner in which she looked at him. She had always shown a certain reserve while in his company thus far, but had dropped the barrier in her concern for Geraldine. Her warmth and sincerity had an appeal that awoke a long-suppressed need in him. Never before had he felt such tenderness towards a young lady. His mistresses had amused and aroused him, giving him a sharp, sweet pleasure in the bedroom but fleetingly so that he was able to dismiss them after they had gone, but this emotion flooding him now was something so very different that he hardly knew how to cope with it. He knew an urgent desire to hold her close, to feel the warmth of her flesh and touch the silk of her skin, to kiss her sweet lips and mould the curves of her lovely body to him. His need ached deep in his loins, but beneath that was a longing for something else, something he had never experienced before. “Geraldine tells me that your parasol was quite ruined.” There was humor in his eyes as he teased her. “You were very brave, Miss Weston. I confess I should have liked to be there to witness the rout.” “I was exceedingly angry,” Hester replied with an answering smile. “Geraldine was upset, and she could have been harmed. She might even have been abducted had I not decided to follow her.” “It is her godmother’s legacy of course,” Paul said. “Geraldine may not have mentioned it, for she does not care to brag about her good fortune, but she will inherit a sizeable fortune when she marries. I know that the Mortimer estate is in debt, though not desperate to my knowledge. However, I dare say Richard Mortimer has expensive tastes.” “No, she did not tell me herself,” Hester said, “but I have been given hints. I think you are right. It may be that the viscount hoped to ruin her reputation so that she would be forced to wed him.” “That is very likely his intent, and he may have other reasons for his behavior.” Paul shook his head as Hester raised his brows at her. “No, but I could not send my cousin’s husband to the gallows, which is my intended fate for Mortimer if he is guilty of the crime I believe he was a party to.” “You have found the proof you sought?”

“Unfortunately not,” Paul replied. “Someone made sure I could not question the man who might have told me. Yet, I have not lost hope of bringing the culprit to justice. I know he is guilty of the deaths of some of my men. It may have been the result of greed or there may be a more serious purpose behind what was done. I have sworn to bring the perpetrator to justice, and one day I shall do so. I have not the least doubt of that.” “I wish you good fortune with your mission, sir.” Paul's gaze narrowed for she seemed to shiver. “Have no fear, Miss Weston. Mortimer will not attempt another abduction.” “You will be careful, sir?” “You must not be anxious for my sake, Miss Weston.” His expression lightened, became warmer as he saw that she was indeed anxious for him, and the knowledge made him suddenly lighthearted. “And now we have spoken of this wretched business for long enough. Will you dance?” “Willingly, sir,” Hester said and gave him her hand.

Chapter Four A smiling Henry Blackwater greeted Hester on her way to the lending library the next morning. He looked extremely handsome in a coat of blue superfine that moulded to his powerful shoulders, a striped waistcoat, and a cravat that could only be described as artistry. It fell in beautifully arranged folds that must have taken either him or his valet endless trouble to arrange. “Miss Weston,” he said sweeping off his tall crowned beaver hat and making her an elegant leg. “How charming you look this morning.” Hester blushed and disclaimed, thinking that of the two of them he had the better claim. She was wearing a light blue gown under a pelisse of grey velvet, for it was cooler that morning, and her bonnet of matching velvet trimmed with silk roses—but only the bonnet was new. “You flatter me, sir, but it is very kind of you.” “Who would be anything but kind to you, Miss Weston?” Hester could think of several people who had been less than kind to her in the past, but she merely smiled and shook her head. Mr. Blackwater would make some fortunate young lady a kind and considerate husband, she thought. Had she been free to marry, she might have been happy as his wife, though he did not make her heart leap as did another gentleman of her acquaintance. However, it would be foolish to think of marriage at all. Her father had forbidden it, and her mother would never relent. “Have you been invited to Lady Jersey’s ball?” Hester asked, deciding to steer the conversation to safer waters. “Countess Danbury has heard a whisper that the Prince Regent may attend.” “Is Prinny visiting Bath?” Henry looked sceptical. “He seldom bothers, for he prefers Brighton or London, and who can blame him? It will surprise me if he shows, but I may be wrong. Have you never met him, Miss Weston?” “I have been to neither London nor Brighton,” Hester said feeling awkward. He would wonder why, and she would have to lie to satisfy his curiosity. Happily, he did not question her further. “Perhaps you prefer the beauties of the countryside to the rattle of empty-headed society,” he said with a teasing look. “How wise you are. I sometimes think all this coming and going a waste of time.” Hester laughed and shook her head. “No, no, I am sure a London season must be delightful. I was to have had one when I was eighteen, but unfortunately things happened to prevent it.” “Then you would not mind dividing your time between the country and town in the right circumstances?” His eyes were intent as they rested on her face, making Hester feel very warm. His manner was so particular that she could not help thinking he was considering making her an offer at some future date. “Given the right circumstances I imagine it would be very pleasant,” she replied, hoping that her words would give him pause for thought. “But I do not see it happening in the near future.” With a feeling of relief, she saw Geraldine and Lucinda walking to meet her. He had seen them too and tipped his hat once more. “I shall leave you now,” he said and nodded to the other ladies. “But I hope to see you at my aunt’s little affair tomorrow?” “Yes, indeed, sir, we look forward to it,” she said, for she liked him well enough as a companion. “I have heard Lucinda mention it twice. Please, excuse me now.”

She walked forward to greet her friends with smiles and kisses. Both Lucinda and Geraldine had come to do some shopping and to return their books to the library. “I have worn out three pairs of dancing slippers since we arrived,” Geraldine said and laughed. Hester was pleased to see that the shadow that had hung over her for some days was quite gone. Clearly, she had decided that her cousin would take care of her problem. “I saw some very pretty ones last week in that French shop, and I have decided to purchase them.” “And I want some evening gloves and a new bonnet,” Lucinda said, tossing her pretty ringlets. “I have been thinking of buying some new slippers,” Hester said. “It will be fun to buy them together, for we may try on everything at the milliners without spending a fortune.” Thanks to Charlotte, Hester was not short of pin money, but she knew that the other girls had doting mothers who spared no expense in the matter of their daughters’ clothes. She had vowed not to take undue advantage of her cousin’s generosity and had limited her spending as best she could. However, neither of the other girls was vain or spiteful, and Hester had never been made to feel that she was less fortunate than they were. So she joined them on their shopping trip and enjoyed watching them buy the pretty trifles they chose. Geraldine bought three pairs of dancing slippers, while Lucinda contented herself with two pairs of white gloves and a pretty bonnet with pink silk ribbons. Hester purchased a pair of black dancing slippers. She tried on several bonnets but declared that she could find nothing to please her, though there was a green velvet one that she secretly coveted. However, she declined to purchase it, for she did not wish to ask her cousin for more money. She was content to be with her friends and happy to be able to buy her slippers. It was on their way to the Pump Room to meet up with Lady Holbeach and Charlotte that they met Josh Farnham and Captain Crawford. Hester’s heart gave a sudden surge as Paul smiled at her, and she became aware of feeling slightly breathless. “Good morning, ladies,” Josh said. “I see you have been shopping. I trust you bought that bonnet we saw, Lucinda? I believe it will suit you.” “Yes, indeed, I could not resist it,” she replied and dimpled as she gazed up at him. Hester, Geraldine, and Captain Crawford walked ahead as the engaged couple lingered behind. At Paul’s suggestion, they all went together to a popular hotel to partake of the delicious cakes and coffee on offer there. Geraldine excused herself to visit the ladies rest room, and Hester was momentarily alone with Captain Crawford as they waited for the others to catch up with them. “I must tell you that a certain gentleman has left Bath rather hurriedly. I believe he may have heard that I was looking for him,” Paul said with a slight grimace. “I think we shall not see him for a while.” “I can imagine he might feel it beneficial to his health to remove himself for the time being,” Hester said, her eyes wide and serious as she looked at him. “I am content that we shall be relieved of his presence and that Geraldine is safe from his attentions. I believe she has had no more of those wretched letters.” “It may only be a brief reprieve,” Paul said. “One day the opportunity for a reckoning will arise between us.” “Yes, I expect it may. . . .” Hester’s heart jerked at the thought, for she could not bear the idea of his life being at risk. “But you will take care I hope?” “I am flattered that you should care for my welfare, Miss Weston.” There was a smile in his voice, a deep caress in his eyes as they dwelled on her anxious face.

Hester blushed as she saw his eyebrows lift. How strangely odd her heart behaved when he teased her. She felt much like a giddy lamb in spring and wanted to leap for pure joy as they did when very young. “I believe we have become friends, sir. Naturally I should not wish harm to come to you.” “Naturally. I should be very distressed if anything were to harm you, Miss Weston.” His words were said teasingly, but something in his manner made her heart race. However, she could not reply for Lucinda, Josh, and Geraldine were all converging on them.” “Do you go to Lady Jersey’s dance, Captain Crawford?” she asked, her cheeks a little pink. “Yes, I believe so,” he replied. “I have decided that my business will wait. It behooves me to remain in Bath for the moment to keep an eye on Josh.” His words were for the benefit of his companions, but Hester suspected that he intended to stay for Geraldine’s sake—and perhaps her own. For a moment, she dared to hope, though in the next she recalled her shame. She must not allow herself to look for the happiness of being his wife. It could never be. The pain struck deep into the heart of her, and it was all she could do not to cry out. Paul’s eyes were on her face. She knew that he was sensitive to her mood and would understand that something had distressed her. Yet, how could she ever tell him the truth? To do so would cause him to turn from her in disgust, and that she could not bear. Forcing herself to behave naturally, she smiled at her friends and joined in the general laughter and chatter, which was mostly inconsequential. She must make the most of this fleeting chance of happiness, for it was unlikely to come her way again. **** Paul was thoughtful as he watched Hester’s expressive face. He wondered if she knew how faithfully her eyes reflected her moods, but thought not. She was skilled in the art of appearing serene while underneath something was distressing her. At the start, he had suspected that she had been badly hurt at sometime in the past, and he believed that Richard Mortimer might have been the one who had hurt her. She had given no hint of it when they spoke, but he felt every change of mood in her, and he trusted his instincts. What had Mortimer done to cause those shadows in her eyes? If he knew for certain . . . He gripped the dish of hot, strong coffee he was holding so fiercely that his knuckles turned white. Mortimer should pay for whatever he had done to her! Paul felt an urgent desire to follow the rogue to London and thrash him, but another part of his mind urged caution. He ought to stay here to protect his cousin for the remainder of their stay in Bath. In two weeks, Geraldine would return to her home, and he believed it likely that her engagement might be announced quite soon. The Honorable Mr. Thomas Jones came from a respectable family. His lack of fortune could be remedied by their marriage, for Geraldine had money enough to see them well settled. There was no real objection to the match apart from her age, and after what had happened here, he had no doubt that her father would give his consent to it. Paul intended to speak to Lord Holbeach when he escorted his aunt and cousin home. He believed that his uncle would realize Geraldine’s safety would be assured by an

engagement. She could still visit London the following year but with a ring on her finger. The wedding would not take place until next summer. With his fears for Geraldine set to rest, Paul intended to make the most of this visit. He would pay court to Hester Weston in a gentle, subtle manner that would not alarm her and hope to win her trust and with it, perhaps, her heart. Josh and Paul escorted the ladies to the Pump Room and then took their leave. They had no need of the waters for their own benefit and, unlike some gentlemen, did not wish to stay and ogle the ladies who took the hot baths. They had arranged to spend the afternoon at a gentlemen’s club where they would take some exercise in the form of a little sparring with a retired pugilist. **** Nothing was said of this to the ladies, of course, and they all expressed a wish to meet again that evening. Hester noticed that some of the sparkle left Lucinda’s eyes after Josh’s departure, though she smiled and chattered to the friends they encountered at the Pump Room. Feeling an unspoken sympathy for her, Hester admitted to herself that she also experienced a loss of pleasure when the gentlemen had departed. She told herself that it was foolish to allow her happiness to reside in one particular person, but though she tried to be sensible, she could not change her feelings. She had become attached to Captain Crawford despite her determination not to give her heart. Since it had already happened, there was no point in denying it, but she must take the greatest care not to let him guess the truth. Hester must continue to behave as if they were merely friends for the remainder of their stay in Bath. When they met again that evening, she greeted him with her usual smile, but since he was promised to Lady Blackwater as her partner at Whisk, she accepted Henry Blackwater as her own partner. “We do well together, Miss Weston,” Henry said when they were successful for a third hand. “I believe you bring me good fortune.” “You are very good to say so,” Hester said and laughed. He was putting on one of his droll faces, and she knew exactly what was amusing him for a gentleman with a rather odd taste in waistcoats had just entered the room. “No, no, sir! You must not make me laugh or I shall forget what card I have laid.” **** At supper, Hester joined her friends, but Henry accompanied her, mixing easily with the others and teasing both Lucinda and Geraldine. However, his manner towards her was most particular and was remarked about by more than one of the company. Indeed, Lady Blackwater herself had become aware that her nephew was paying attention to Hester, and she made a point of seeking Charlotte out that evening. “What kind of family are they?” she asked pointedly. “Has the Weston gel any prospects?” “Not from her family,” Charlotte replied honestly. “However, I think I shall settle fifteen thousand on her when she marries.” “Fifteen thousand?” Lady Blackwater nodded. The Countess of Danbury was known to be generous and could afford to be. Her maternal grandfather had been a wealthy man and

had left her a huge fortune in trust, and she had married well twice. “That is very satisfactory—but what of the bloodline? I trust they are gentlefolk?” “Country gentry,” Charlotte said hiding her smile at this grilling. “Nothing to distinguish them as a family, but Araminta Weston was a Sefton. Her father was the third son of the earl.” “Ah . . .” Lady Blackwater smiled with satisfaction. “Very well. I am glad we have had this little talk. No more needs to be said for the moment, but I have no objection to the gel.” “Hester is a good girl,” Charlotte replied. “I love her dearly.” “Then we must await events, must we not, my dear countess?” The two ladies looked at each other in mutual agreement. Neither lady doubted that Henry Blackwater would make Hester an offer, and naturally she would accept, for it was an excellent match. **** Hester was sublimely unaware of all these people making plans for her future. She went home happily at the end of the evening, content with having won a little pin money and having enjoyed herself. Undressing, she sat before her mirror and dreamed of the life that might have been hers had she never met the Earl of Mortimer’s grandson. Hester had just finished dressing in a pretty rose-pink walking gown the next morning when Charlotte looked in at her door. “May I come in, dearest?” “Yes, of course.” Hester turned to greet her with a smile. She could have no idea that the past weeks had transformed her, banishing the worn-down look that had crept over her these past several years. Her eyes were shining, her cheeks rose-tinted, and her hair glossy as it curled about her face before being confined in a sleek twist at the back. “We have a visitor, Hester.” Charlotte looked so pleased with herself that Hester misunderstood. “Has Robert come down from London to join us?” “No, it is not your brother. It is Mr. Blackwater, and he has asked my permission to speak to you on a certain matter.” Hester’s heart caught with fright. She had been hoping this would not happen, because she believed that Mr. Blackwater would be offended when she refused him. “I hope you told him that he could not, cousin?” “Now why should I do that?” Charlotte frowned and as she saw Hester’s expression. “What happened in the past is over, dearest. You must put it behind you and look to the future.” “Papa said that no decent man would wish to wed me once he knew the truth. He forbade me to think of marriage, and I am sure that Mama would agree with him.” “Araminta is no longer your guardian. Robert is the head of the family now, and I am certain he could be persuaded to give you his blessing. You must know that he cares for you too much to deny you happiness?” “Yes, perhaps Robert might allow it,” Hester agreed, looking thoughtful. “But do you think that Mr. Blackwater would wish to marry me if he knew that I had born a child out of wedlock?” “There is surely no necessity to tell him,” Charlotte said, an expression of alarm in her eyes. “Why should one little mistake be allowed to ruin your whole life, Hester? A modicum of subterfuge should suffice to keep your secret, my dear.”

“But you cannot think that I would lie to him?” Hester was shocked by what her cousin seemed to imply. “I would never marry without confessing the truth to my intended husband. It would be unkind of me to do otherwise.” “You do not need to lie. A few tears on your wedding night would convince him of your innocence.” “No, Charlotte. I am not sunk so low that I would deceive my husband. If I am ever to marry—and I doubt that I shall—it will be to a man who knows the truth and still wants me.” “You risk remaining a spinster for life.” “Yes, I think that may well be the case,” Hester replied, blinking back the painful tears. Her throat felt tight, but she managed to speak calmly, hiding her inner distress. “But even were I free to marry, I could not accept Mr. Blackwater’s proposal.” “You do not wish to marry him? I thought you liked him?” “I enjoy his company and his friendship, but I do not wish for him as a husband.” “Ah, that is a very different matter,” Charlotte said, her eyes narrowing in thought. “But perhaps there is another gentleman you prefer?” “No, of course not,” Hester denied but the blush in her cheeks betrayed her. “Even if there were, I cannot—must not—think of marriage.” “That is nonsense, Hester. There is not the least need for you to remain unwed.” Charlotte hesitated. “What would you have me say to Mr. Blackwater?” “You need say nothing. I shall see him, for I owe him that courtesy. He shall hear my refusal from my own lips.” “You do not need to tell him your history, dearest.” “No, I shall say nothing of that. I would confess my shame only to a man I trusted enough to hear me without censure even if he could not accept it.” “Very well. Go down to Mr. Blackwater now, Hester—but tread carefully. You do not wish to hurt his feelings.” “I shall try not to,” Hester replied. It was the last thing she wanted to do for she sincerely liked the gentleman and would keep his friendship if she could. She glanced at herself in the dressing mirror once more before going out into the hall. Her heart beat rapidly, and she felt terrible for she was distressed at the prospect of hurting the man who had honored her by asking for her hand in marriage. He was standing gazing out of the window when she entered the small parlor but turned almost at once, his face lighting with pleasure as he saw her. “Miss Weston, may I say how delightful you look and how gratified I am that you came down. I was not sure that you would.” “We are friends, sir.” Hester raised her head, unaware that she looked regal as she addressed him. “Charlotte told me that you had something particular to say to me. I came to beg you not to speak. I fear it might cause us both some distress.” The light died from his face. “You are not prepared to accept an offer of marriage from me?” “I like you very well as a friend, sir,” she replied with quiet dignity. “However, I do not wish to marry at this time.” “I have spoken too soon,” he said looking rueful. “My besetting sin is impatience, Miss Weston. I should have waited until we knew each other better.” Hester’s expression was serious as she looked directly at him. “I believe it would make no difference, sir. I am unlikely to marry. My mother is . . . an invalid, and she needs me with her. For the moment, she has a companion, but I must return to her soon.” It was the

closest to the truth that she dare confess to him. “Forgive me if something in my manner led you to believe that my answer would be otherwise. “You have been everything you ought,” Henry swallowed his disappointment as best he could. “Perhaps a companion may be found for your mother? If she could be brought to accept your marriage, I am sure something could be arranged.” “No, I do not think so.” Hester half lifted her hand in apology. “I am truly sorry I cannot answer you differently. I hope you will not dislike me too much because of it, sir?” “I could never dislike you,” Henry said. “Forgive me for embarrassing you, Miss Weston.” “Oh no . . .” She felt close to tears. “You did me too much honor, sir. The fault is mine.” She bowed her head as he left, feeling wretched. She waited until he had gone and then turned and ran from the room. She knew that she had lost a friend and it made her wish that she had never come to Bath. **** As Hester sought the sanctuary of her bedchamber to weep useless tears, Paul stood across the road and watched Henry Blackwater leaving. For a moment, he thought he was too late, but the other man’s manner was one of dejection. He did not look like a man who had had his offer of marriage accepted. “Blackwater!” Paul called to him. “Hold a moment, if you please. I would have words with you.” A startled look came to the other’s face, and for a moment, he seemed as if he would refuse, but then stood and waited for Paul to come up to him. His eyes were narrowed, his expression slightly wary and not exactly friendly. “Crawford?” Blackwater frowned. “What may I do for you?” “I understand you have a stallion for sale. May I take a look at the horse?” A flicker of something showed in Blackwater’s eyes. Was it relief or something more? Paul could not be certain, but he sensed an odd reserve in the other man, though he answered him fair enough. “Yes, of course. The horse has a good bloodline, but I have recently bought another and thought I might sell.” He pulled a wry face, a gleam of some secret emotion in his eyes. “We could go and look at the beast now if you like? I have nothing better to do.” “You seem at odds with yourself, Blackwater?” Blackwater hesitated. “The devil is in it! I had hopes of being settled but it was not to be. The lady has no thought of marriage,” he confessed, taking on a confiding air. “I am sorry for your disappointment,” Paul said, abandoning his intention of speaking to Miss Weston for the moment. His rival had been turned down, and he rather thought he might fare the same fate if he spoke too soon. Hester would need to know him better if he were to stand a chance of winning her. “Let us go and see the horse, Blackwater. You may find that your luck has changed.” “I must warn you, Crawford. The brute has a devilish temper.” Paul would normally have given a horse of that nature a wide berth, but the purchase of a bad-tempered horse was a small price to pay for the information Blackwater had just given him. And there was something in the other’s manner that he found false, but he ignored his instincts for it would serve his purpose to go along with Blackwater’s show of friendship for the moment.

He smiled and clapped Blackwater on the shoulder. “I enjoy a challenge,” he said. “As long as the horse is sound, I shall buy it from you.” It was as he had suspected from the beginning, Paul thought as he accompanied Blackwater to the stables, which were some distance away. Unlike most young ladies of quality, Hester had not come to Bath to catch a husband. Indeed, it seemed that she was set against it. Now why was that? He was convinced that there was some mystery in her past. She guarded her secret carefully, and time and patience would be needed to win her trust sufficiently to break down her inner reserve. Paul felt quite cheerful about things. He was a patient man. Now that he knew he was not about to lose her to a rival, he was prepared to wait for as long as it took. **** Alone in her room, Hester washed the tearstains from her face. She did not regret turning down Mr Blackwater’s proposal, though she had been distressed by his evident disappointment. However, it had brought home to her the hopelessness of her situation. Even had the man she cared for above all others had asked her to marry him, she would have had to refuse. Unless . . . but it would be so hard to reveal her sin. She knew that she would see admiration turn to disgust in his eyes. “You will never marry, girl!” Her father’s angry words rang in her ears. “No decent man would have you. You are disgusting, a thing of abomination in the eyes of decent people. I can hardly bear to look at you myself.” The sting of his words had never left her. She might perhaps have eased her situation if she had cried rape, but though Richard Mortimer had refused to stop when she begged him, she knew that she had gone to his arms willingly enough. That knowledge added to her feeling of shame for she must be wicked to have allowed his passionate kisses, which to her mind meant that she was as culpable as he. Had she not allowed the intimacy, the rest might never have happened. She had forgotten her shame for a little while during her stay in Bath but soon the visit would end and then she would return to her home. Hester tried to be brave as she faced the bleak future that awaited her, for she knew that her mother would never forgive her. Indeed, Araminta Weston blamed her daughter for the fact that she was a widow, claiming that her daughter had caused her father’s heartbreak and was responsible for his death. But she must not dwell on the future! And the past could only make her heart ache. She still had a little time of pleasure left, and she must make the most of it while she could. **** It was on the evening of Lady Jersey’s ball that Hester was invited to stay with Geraldine at her country home. “I asked Mama if you and Countess Danbury could come for a visit,” Geraldine told her. “Thomas has spoken to her, and she says she will talk to Papa for us. Although we shall not marry until next year, I think it likely that I may be engaged on my birthday, which is in two weeks time. I should like you to be at my dance, Hester.” “I am honored that you have asked,” Hester said. “But I am not sure what Charlotte will say.”

Charlotte had not mentioned the length of their stay in Bath, and Hester had expected to be leaving in a week or two. However, her cousin accepted the invitation with pleasure. “It will be nice for you to stay with friends, Hester. There is much more freedom in the country, and I am in no hurry to return home. Danbury will do well without me for a while longer. Say yes to Geraldine, dearest.” Geraldine was delighted. She kissed Hester’s cheek, telling her how happy she was, and turned to Paul in elation as he came up to them. “Hester has agreed to come and stay, Paul. Is that not wonderful?” “Yes, cousin,” he said smiling easily. “We shall all have more time to enjoy each other’s company at March Mallows.” Geraldine’s eyes were brilliant as she hugged his arm, her excitement almost bursting out of her. “I am so happy. Mama told me that you persuaded her to agree to my engagement.” “Your mama will not agree to the wedding just yet, but an engagement seemed a good idea since you are fond of Thomas.” Paul’s mouth quivered with amusement. “Think of all the expense it will save your Papa!” “Oh you!” Geraldine laughed. You know Papa never cares for what he spends on me.” She smiled as Lucinda and Josh came to join them. “I am so happy.” Her happiness radiated out of her like a beacon of light as Mr Jones left his sister’s party and came to join them. Geraldine went off to dance with him, leaving the others to choose their partners. “Will you dance, Miss Weston?” Hester consulted her card, but she already knew that this dance was free. She had left three spaces in the hope that he would ask her. Giving him her hand, she managed to retain her cool dignity even though her heart was beating madly. “I am pleased that you could spare the time to stay with Geraldine. Lucinda and Josh have to return home to prepare for their own wedding, though they will attend her dance. And she, of course, will be a bridesmaid at Lucinda’s wedding.” “It will be a pleasure for me,” Hester said sincerely. “You have no idea how dull my life is at home, sir.” She blushed slightly, for she had said more than she ought. “I should have thought all the local gentlemen would beat a path to your door, Miss Weston?” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Oh no,” she said. “Pray do not tease me, sir. I am a confirmed spinster. There is no reason for any gentleman to visit us other than Mama’s friends, who are quite elderly— though my brother may occasionally bring a friend with him to stay in future I dare say. He did not do so in the past for he thought our father too strict, but now . . .” “Surely there must be a personable gentleman you favor?” His brows lifted as he quizzed her. “Or are they all fools?” “Oh no,” she said, her cheeks coloring. “You would flatter me, sir. I am not at my last prayers, but you must have noticed that I have no real admirers, whereas Geraldine has many.” “Perhaps you are wise not to wish for marriage. Ladies give up so much when they marry, do you not think so? In my opinion our property laws are iniquitous as far as women are concerned, though of course that may be remedied in the marriage contract.” “But they also gain,” Hester said. “A husband, children, and a home of their own, these are prospects that most females prize. I know that Geraldine longs for the day she and Thomas marry.” “You, however, wish to retain your independence, I imagine?”

Hester knew that he was quizzing her. She arched her brows at him. “As you do, Captain Crawford? I see that you have managed to avoid the petticoat trap.” He laughed, amused at her sally. “Touché,” he said. “My mother would take great pleasure in you, Miss Weston. She is urgent with me to find myself a wife before it is too late. I am required to provide an heir for the title you see.” “Ah . . .” Hester’s heart beat wildly. Please let him not speak! “Then you must look for a suitable lady to oblige your mama, sir. Perhaps an heiress who will bring both breeding and a fortune to your family.” “No, no, I do not need a fortune,” Paul replied, an air of innocence about him that sat ill with the gleam in his eyes. “I have thought of a modest widow, a lady who will bear with me in patience. Can you recommend anyone, Miss Weston? I should value your advice on the matter.” She knew that his wicked sense of humor was at work once more. He was leading her on a string, playing her very gently. She wished with all her heart that she could follow where he led, but knew she must hold back at the last. “I cannot say that I know of a lady you might wish to marry, sir, but I shall keep my eyes open now that you have made your requirements known. If I find a lady I think suitable, I shall introduce her to you at once.” “She must be intelligent, serious, and yet have a lovely smile and a sense of fun,” Paul continued. “I think her hair ought to be dark but with a touch of red when the light catches it, her eyes brown perhaps—but most of all she must be honest.” Hester felt her cheeks grow warm but then she turned cold, a sliver of ice sliding down her spine. He believed he was describing her, but how could he know that she was living a lie? He would not think her his ideal woman if he knew the truth. “I have taken note of you preferences, sir.” She forced a teasing smile to her lips. “Believe that I shall be diligent on your behalf.” “I wish that you will,” he replied and his blue eyes were more serious that she had previously seen them. “You see, I believe only the lady I have described would content me.” Hester did not reply. What was he saying? Was he hinting that he cared for her? She knew that he did like her very much and her heart leapt. She was not a stranger to passion, for her innocent heart had responded to the man who had first seduced and then dishonored her, ignoring her cries for him to cease. For years, she had believed that her heart was irreparably broken and that she would never love again, but now she knew that she had fallen hard. She could have stayed in Paul’s arms forever, her body responding to his touch in a way that both terrified and delighted her. As they danced the waltz, she felt as light as air, as if she floated on clouds. When the music ended and he released her, she was aware of a deep sense of loss. Yet, pride would not let her show any sign of preference, and she smiled with equal warmth on the next gentleman to claim her as his partner. He was very young, shy, and seemed to have two left feet, succeeding on treading on her toes at least twice, but she thanked him when their dance ended and left him feeling that he had just danced with the most perfect lady in the room. Hester would have been surprised if she had known just how popular she was becoming, both with the gentlemen and their female relations. Had she known it, only her reserve had prevented at least three of her partners from speaking of their hopes, but she managed to get through the evening without any embarrassing encounters, though she knew that Geraldine had had to extricate herself from two overly eager gentlemen who had tried to get her to take the air with them. Hester

believed that it was her lack of fortune, and perhaps her mature years, that had kept her safe, but it had been noticed that she smiled particularly warmly on Captain Crawford. It was generally thought that he would win the day, and at least three admirers held back because of his proprietary air. Hester shed some tears that night as she lay in her bed. She had been distressed when she refused Henry Blackwater for his sake, but now her heart ached. If Captain Crawford were to make her an offer, she would be forced to refuse—but how could she bear to go on with her life knowing that she had broken his heart and hers?

Chapter Five Hester decided to return her books to the lending library the morning of their last day in Bath. They were to leave early the next day to journey to the estate of Lord and Lady Holbeach, and both she and Charlotte were busy checking off all the little jobs that must be done. She had promised to fetch some new slippers that Charlotte had ordered and she wanted to buy a gift for Geraldine’s birthday. She had decided on a spangled scarf that her friend had seen in the window of a shop near the tearooms they sometimes frequented. It was after she had completed her errands and was on her way home that she saw him. Her first thought was to avoid him, but Richard Mortimer put himself in her way, forcing her to acknowledge him with a cool nod. “Good morning, Miss Weston. Miss Hester Weston, I believe?” There was a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine. He had remembered her! Hester’s chest felt tight, and she could barely breathe, but she forced the panic down, counting to ten before she answered. “Sir. I pray you let me pass if you please.” “How could I have forgotten you, sweet Hester?” Richard murmured. “You were such a pretty little thing and innocent—so innocent. You have changed, for the better I may say.” “I have nothing to say to you, sir. Allow me to walk on, if you please.” “Oh, but I have a great deal to say. If you will not hear it, perhaps others may.” Hester’s stomach was churning. He was threatening to expose her shame, which would instantly ruin her in society, but she knew he was not to be trusted. It would be foolish to allow him to blackmail her. She must face him down and damn the consequences. “What you choose to say in public is your affair, sir.” Hester raised her head proudly. “I shall not listen to you.” She crossed the road to avoid him, leaving him staring after her in frustration so that he called out, “You may regret this, Hester!” Hester did not give him the satisfaction of seeing her turn her head. She walked on, outwardly calm, though inwardly her stomach was churning with apprehension. Richard Mortimer could destroy her. A few words from him would mean that she could never again show her face in society, which meant that she would never have another chance of happiness. Even Charlotte would not be able to support her if she were exposed to public scorn. She could only hope that she would have left Bath before Richard began to speak of their affair. For she knew that the ladies who had welcomed her to their homes with a smile of approval would turn their heads in disgust whenever they saw her. She would be beyond the pale, her reputation stained beyond repair. Fortunately, they had no engagements that evening, as they were to set out early the next day. Hester could only be glad of it. She hoped that no hint of scandal would reach Lady Holbeach before they left Bath. Perhaps she would be granted another two weeks of pleasure for she knew that after her shame was known there would be no alternative for her but to retire to obscurity in the country with her mother. **** Richard had no intention of making good his threat, but she had piqued him, bringing his baser instincts to the fore. Nothing amused him more than the chase, and his hunting

instincts had been aroused. He knew that she was being called the Citadel, and the Ice Maiden, and it pleased him to know that he knew better. She had been both warm and passionate in his arms, and, as he looked at her, he found himself remembering how much he had liked and admired her. Watching her walk away, back straight, head held proudly, Richard Mortimer’s mood changed, becoming reluctant admiration. There was something rather fine about Hester, and he knew a sharp regret for his past misdeeds. He had begun his pursuit of an innocent young girl out of boredom, having been forced to rusticate through lack of funds. The day he had let his gentle seduction of Hester become something he had never ceased to regret, he had been in a mood of near despair. His father had told him that he was being sent abroad, that he would become a remittance man, condemned to exile until he was recalled. For a young man addicted to the pleasures of London, that had been tantamount to a death sentence. And when he forcefully seduced Hester, he had been mad or drunk, perhaps both. Now his father and elder brother were both dead, and he was his grandfather’s heir. When the old man died, and that could not be long, for he was suffering in his last days, Richard would inherit everything. Unfortunately, there were more debts than assets, and he might have no alternative than to sell the estate. It was imperative that he marry an heiress. The trouble was that most of them were very young girls and had been warned about him by their watchful mamas. His reputation as a rake and a seducer had clung to him, and he was thought of as dangerous to young ladies, which might be true in certain circumstances. He had hoped to find one young and foolish enough to be swayed by his charm, a girl who would ignore his past, which he had the grace to admit would not bear a close examination. He had not lived an exemplary life, but his early excesses had been no worse than most other young men—apart from what he had done to Hester. However, he was painted a black sheep, and it was hard to overcome a reputation of that kind. He had fared no better in London than Bath, and it was looking increasingly likely that he might have to abduct a young girl of good fortune if he were to succeed in his aim. It was a despicable action, of course, but a night spent in his company would have most young ladies and their mamas clamoring for marriage. Perhaps he might do better to look for the daughter of a wealthy Cit—someone prepared to buy a title? Unfortunately, he found most very young girls incredibly boring. It was a pity that Hester Weston had no fortune to recommend her. She at least would have been worth the chase, and it would put right the wrong he had done her. At least, it might ease his conscience. Richard proceeded to the Baths, where he met some men that he knew and was informed by one young spark that Captain Crawford had been looking for him. “I wouldn’t be in your shoes if he finds you, Mortimer,” Mr. Bradshaw said. “He looked fit to murder when I saw him.” “I do not fear Crawford,” Richard said making a mental note to avoid him. He knew that Crawford blamed him for that business with the faulty cannon. He had been merely the gobetween, but he was damned if he was going to plead his case. He wasn’t afraid to meet Crawford in a duel if it came to it, but would rather not while his grandfather was still living. Indeed, he had given his word to be on his best behavior—whatever that might be. “Well, he is leaving Bath tomorrow. His cousin is to be engaged on her birthday they say and they give her a dance for her at Holbeach Towers. I believe Miss Weston goes with them.” Bradshaw sighed deeply. “They say Countess Danbury will settle fifty thousand on her when she marries. I would try my hand there, but she refused Blackwater out of hand.

He took himself off to London in a blue fit. The poor fellow was head over heels in love with her they say.” Richard’s eyes gleamed. “Where did you hear that tale? Fifty thousand is a huge sum of money.” Bradshaw shrugged. “It might have been fifteen. Either way, I would settle if she would have me, but I can’t get near her—perfectly polite, smiles at me well and tight, don’t you know, but keeps a barrier in place. Some fellows call her the Citadel, but I like her too much to hear a word against her. Think I’m a bit in love with her myself.” He sighed again and looked sorrowful. Richard nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. There was something about Hester these days, and he’d been fond of her in his way all those years ago. If she had fifteen thousand when she married, it would go a long way to solve his problems. Given the chance, he thought he could put the estate to rights. . . . He smiled and clapped the other man on the shoulders. There might just be a chance for him yet. “I feel lucky,” he said. “Come, let us find some other fellows and chance our hand at the card tables.” **** Hester was happily unaware that Richard Mortimer was now considering her as a prospective bride. She would have liked to confide her fears about an imminent exposure to Charlotte. However, since she had never revealed the name of her seducer to anyone— despite the threats and beatings her father had given her at the start—she did not feel able to now. She must simply hope that Richard would not reveal her shame too soon for she would not wish the scandal to reflect on Geraldine and spoil her birthday celebrations. She made up her mind that she would not allow her fears to overshadow her visit with the Holbeach family. She must make the most of the time left to her and that would not be hard in the company of such good friends. Captain Crawford was escorting them to the country, but he rode on horseback most of the time, leaving the carriage for the ladies. However, he was on hand to secure rooms at the inn for them that night and seemed in sparkling form at supper, which they took in the private parlor together. The two girls shared a room quite happily at night, but Geraldine took longer to get ready in the morning, and Hester went downstairs first. Finding that the other ladies had not yet come down, she wandered outside, walking through the gardens at the rear of the inn to the banks of a rather brown and sluggish river. She was engrossed in watching a family of swans gliding by when someone called her name. As she turned, Paul came up to her. “You are an early riser,” he said, a smile on his lips. “I think it will be quite warm later, don’t you?” “I should not be surprised for it is already very pleasant,” she agreed. “Have we much farther to travel, sir?” “We should be at Holbeach Towers by teatime,” he replied. “As it is such a lovely day would you care to ride with me instead of in the carriage?” “If it were possible I should like it above all things,” Hester said truthfully. “But I do not have a riding habit. I used to ride but . . . Papa did not have a suitable mount for me.” Hester’s father, blaming her for her wickedness, had sold her mare as a punishment because she would not tell him the name of her seducer. The memory brought a look of wistful sadness to her eyes. However, in another moment, the shadows had gone and she smiled once more.

“Do you intend to stay with your aunt for the next two weeks, sir?” she asked. “Or have you business that will take you elsewhere?” “My father’s estate is less than half an hour’s ride away,” Paul told her. “I shall go there once my aunt and cousin are safely home. However, I shall visit most days, and I daresay my mother will beg the favor of your company at dinner at least once during your stay. You will not be rid of me so easily, Miss Weston, I do assure you.” His teasing smile made Hester’s heart race wildly. When he looked at her in that way, she felt an overwhelming need to have him hold her close. Yet, that would be dangerous. Hester knew only too well that innocent kisses could swiftly turn to something very different. Captain Crawford was not Richard Mortimer. She did not believe he would force himself on her as had the other, but she was not sure she would want him to stop once he began. She felt that she was being drawn into his net, his web of silken charm enfolding her, binding her and making her his prisoner. How easy it would be to place her life in his hands, to allow him to lead her down the primrose path to happiness. Yet, if he should ask her to be his wife, she must in honor refuse. Hester felt a surge of rebellion. Surely what she had done as an innocent girl was not so very wicked? Was she not entitled to a little happiness? “Your eyes are full of mysteries,” Paul told her and his expression was so intent that she trembled inwardly, half expecting him to take her in his arms and kiss her. “Who are you, Hester, and what secrets are you hiding behind that serene mask you show us?” Would that she might tell him the truth. A deep longing swept through her, a need to throw herself against his chest and let him take her burden from her, but her fear of seeing disgust in his eyes held her back. “What makes you think I have secrets?” “Do you not?” he raised his brows at her. “Perhaps,” Hester replied striving for a light touch. “But surely a lady is entitled to her secrets, sir. Is there nothing in your past that you would prefer to conceal?” “Touché!” Paul laughed. “Too much I fear, but we should not explore that too much. You are delightful, Hester. Will you allow me to call you by your name in private?” “Yes, if you wish it. I think we may claim to be good friends, sir.” “If I dared, I would claim more,” Paul told her, a burning light in his eyes that made her stomach tighten with nerves. She blushed and would have moved past him, for she feared giving too much away if she stayed. Her heart was racing, and she felt a breathless need that she dare not identify. He caught her arm, detaining her, persuading her to look at him once more. “No, do not run away, Hester. You feel something between us. I am sure you do.” She could not deny it for her whole body cried out to him, and she longed to be in his arms, to feel his lips on hers and the happiness of being close to him. She gazed up into his blue eyes, her breathing difficult as her senses reeled, and she felt as if she were drowning in his hot gaze. In Bath, she had felt protected by the structure of polite society, which never gave them the chance to be truly alone, but here, on the grassy banks of this river, it was as if they were the only two people on this earth. He was an attractive man, a man she knew to be of a passionate nature, and she—she was in love with him. She experienced a slow burning need within her but suppressed it at once. She could never marry and what else was there? The answer was too shaming. She might of course become his mistress, but that was against all that she believed in, all that made her the woman she was. She had lost the right to his respect, but she could not give herself in such a relationship. The alternative was a bleak and empty future, but she could not change the past.

“Even if that were true, I could not leave my mother.” Hester fell back on the excuse she had given Henry Blackwater. “And now I should return to the inn, sir. I shall be looked for.” His hold on her wrist did not immediately give way as he asked, “Is Mrs. Weston an invalid then?” “No, but she relies on me. She has her sister with her at the moment but will expect me to return home soon.” “And do you always do what your mother expects?” “Is that not a daughter’s duty?” “Sometimes you owe a duty to yourself—and others.” Hester understood his meaning. He was asking her if he meant nothing to her, if his needs were not as worthy as her mother’s. Every fibre of her being cried out to him, but she suppressed the need. “For me, there is nothing but duty, sir.” **** Hester watched Captain Crawford riding just to the right of the coach. It was a little stuffy inside, and she wished that she might have joined him on horseback for a while, but repressed the longing as she did all the other desires that rose up in her when looking at him. She was acutely aware that he was considering making her an offer, but her conscience would not allow her to accept without telling him the truth. A sigh escaped her. She could not bear to see the light of love fade from his eyes or know that he despised her, as he must if she confessed. “Is something troubling you?” Geraldine asked, looking at her anxiously. “You are not missing your friends in Bath?” “How could I when I have you and my cousin?” Hester asked, banishing her doleful thoughts. “No, it is merely that Captain Crawford asked me if I would ride with him, and I was forced to refuse because I do not have the proper clothes.” “Then we must remedy that,” Charlotte said at once. “I thought you had no wish to ride, Hester. Had I known that you enjoyed it, I should have ordered a habit made for you in Bath.” “Hester may have one made by our seamstress,” Geraldine said. “She is coming to measure Mama and me for new evening gowns. She may make Hester something too.” Hester could not refuse without seeming ungrateful, though she believed her cousin had already been more than generous. Her secret heart told her that she would relish the chance to ride again, with Captain Crawford if he should ask her. “I am very fortunate to have such good friends,” she said. “I am not sure that I deserve your kindness.” “What nonsense!” Charlotte declared with a frown. “You must know that you are the daughter I longed for and never had, Hester. If your mother would spare you to me, I would keep you with me forever.” **** Or until Hester made up her mind to marry, she substituted in her mind. Charlotte had been disappointed when Hester refused Mr. Blackwater’s offer, but now she rather thought she understood her cousin’s reasons. It was becoming noticeable that the

girl was very much aware of Captain Crawford, and he of her. It would be an even better match in Charlotte’s opinion, for he was the heir to a large fortune and a prestigious title. He preferred to be addressed by his military rank but was quite entitled to a string of titles if he chose to use them. His forbearance spoke volumes of the kind of man he was. Yes, he would make a very satisfactory husband for Hester, Charlotte decided. It was to be hoped that he could be brought to offer for her before this visit was over. Indeed, if he seemed to hesitate, Charlotte might give him a few hints. She knew that Hester had insisted that she could never marry without confessing her secret, but perhaps a man like Captain Crawford might be able to accept what had happened. It would be a shame if all her plans were to come to nothing, Charlotte thought ruefully. She had believed that it would be an easy matter to find her cousin a husband, and indeed, it would have been simple enough if it were not for Hester’s own honesty. She could admire the principle of course, but surely, a small pretence would not be so very terrible in the circumstances. Hester need not actually lie to the man she married. She would not be the first to conceal something of the sort from her husband. Charlotte regretted the need for subterfuge, but she had always been on Hester’s side. The girl’s white face and the dark shadows beneath her eyes when she was allowed home after the birth of her stillborn child had haunted Charlotte down the years. She had known that there was no chance of Mr. Weston relenting in his attitude towards his daughter, but after his death, she had waited her opportunity. Hester must be brought to understand that her only chance of a life lay in marriage. Otherwise, she would simply fall into herself once more, becoming the dull, plain spinster her father had tried to make her. Charlotte had never heard the details of what had caused Hester’s downfall from her own lips. She thought that if perhaps she could encourage the girl to talk about it, she might find a way to overcome her refusal to think of marriage. **** Hester was unaware of her cousin’s thoughts. She talked to Geraldine, laughing at the other girl’s excited chatter as she planned her coming dance, and if she wished that she could be as innocent and carefree as the young girl sitting next to her, she gave no hint of it. Nor did she allow herself to become gloomy. She was fortunate to have had this precious time, and she would not waste it in regret. Lady Holbeach had arranged that Hester should have the room next to Geraldine so that the two girls could visit each other at will. As they were in and out of each other’s rooms all the time, it was an excellent arrangement. Now that they were in the Holbeach family’s home, the atmosphere was far more relaxed than in Bath. Hester was treated as one of the family, and she blossomed in the warmth of the genuine affection showered on her. A seamstress was summoned the very next day. Madame Lefarge was a French émigré and had set up an establishment in a small town some five miles away. Hers was the flair for design and elegance, but she employed six girls in her rooms and was delighted to be given an order for two new ballgowns and a riding habit. Hester’s habit was delivered within two days of her first fitting and that very morning Captain Crawford arrived to invite her to go riding with him. “How did you know that I was having a habit made?”

“A little bird told me.” His eyes were full of mischief. “I have arranged for a suitable mount to be put at your disposal. You have only to order the groom to make Serendipity ready and you may ride at any time you wish.” “Serendipity?” Hester gave a gurgle of laughter. “However did you think of such a name?” “The mare has an air of content,” Paul explained, his mouth quirking at the corners. “But many of our horses have unusual names—She is called Pippa for short if you prefer. However, my father breeds only thoroughbreds, and the names are for the bloodlines register.” “How interesting. Does your father race his horses?” “Yes, sometimes. We both have an interest in racing. My own stable is at Newmarket, though it has been a little neglected of late. My father oversaw the running of it while I was in the army, but I need some new blood to bring it into a viable enterprise once more.” “I should like to see your father’s stables while I am here, if I may?” “I see no reason why you should not,” he replied. “Father is justly proud of them—and my mother invites you and Geraldine to lunch tomorrow if you would care to come. We are to have a more formal dinner next week, but this is intended as a little friendly gathering of the family.” “Yes, of course I should like to come. I should like that very much.” “Then I shall ride over to escort you both.” The mare was a glossy chestnut and spirited. She tossed her head as she was led out of the stable, which made Hester look at Paul with a challenge in her eyes. “I had expected a docile creature from such a name.” “Ah, but you did not ask when she looked contented—nor could I tell you if you asked for it is quite unfit for a lady’s delicate ears. However, I will tell you that some months ago a beautiful foal was bred from her and Father’s best stallion.” There was such wickedness in his eyes that Hester blushed for she could not fail to understand his meaning. That he should tease her in such a way was surprising for it meant that he considered that they had stepped beyond the bounds of friendship to a more intimate relationship. Indeed, as he helped her into the saddle, she sensed something different in his manner. There was suppressed passion in his eyes, and it both frightened and excited her. She knew that he was looking at her as a man looks at the woman he wants for his wife. “We shall ride as far as the lake,” Paul told her. “You have not ridden for sometime. It would be foolish to do too much at first. You must tell me if you are uncomfortable, Hester.” “I am sure I shall not be,” she said. It felt wonderful to be in the saddle again, and the mare had the sweetest mouth, responding to the lightest touch on the reins. “You have chosen well. Thank you for lending her to me, Captain Crawford.” “Please call me Paul,” he said and, looking into his eyes, Hester’s heart missed a beat. “It shall be my reward for bringing the mare to you.” “Very well, Paul. You have been generous and kind, and I am grateful.” “It is not gratitude I want from you.” His tone and his manner sent spirals of sensation winging down her spine, and her stomach clenched with answering need. She could not be mistaken. He had decided to court her in earnest. Hester knew that she must make her feelings clear at once, but the words would not come. He looked at her expectantly, but she could not answer, for she discovered

that she wanted this wonderful rapport to go on. Instead, she gave the reins a little shake, urging her mare to a trot and then a canter. She was aware of her companion keeping pace with her on his own horse, but did not glance his way. For a while, the sheer joy of riding was enough. She thrust her doubts and anxieties from her mind, sending him a smile that told of her delight. **** On the rise, Richard Mortimer sat his horse and watched the man and woman race each other, saw how well they matched each other. It was strange, but over the years, he had forgotten what Hester was really like. She had become a shadow on the fringes of his memory. Cast out from his home, forced to live by his wits and to do things that heartily sickened him when he remembered, he had forgotten that he had once been young and happy. Now, seeing her riding that way with Crawford, he remembered. Hester had been riding when he first saw her, riding hell for leather, her long hair streaming out behind her in the wind and laughing joyously. He had wanted her from that moment on, but the next time they met, he had pretended that he knew nothing of her, asking his way though he knew it perfectly well. On horseback, she was a warrior goddess, fearless and beautiful, but out walking, she was a young and innocent country girl, modest and rather shy at first. He was not sure what had driven him to pursue her as he had. She had been a delight, trusting and giving, responding to his passionate kisses with a warmth that stoked the fire inside him. Even so, he had been gentle with her—until that last time. He had cared for her. It came back to him now. He had never meant to harm her, perhaps he had even considered marrying her one day in the future, for there had seemed to be plenty of time that golden summer—but then his past misdeeds had returned to haunt him. Gambling debts and an affair with a girl who was no better than she ought to be. Annabel had been hot to bed with him, but when he had walked away from her, she had taken her revenge. His father believed her claims of being forcefully seduced, though in truth she had been as much the seducer as he, pursuing him until she got her way, but she was a young lady, and his father believed her. He accused Richard of every crime under the sun and told him that he was being sent to the West Indies to stay with a distant relative. Angry at this summary dismissal, Richard had drunk too much wine before keeping his appointment with Hester. His senses inflamed by her sweet response to his kisses, he had been carried away on a tide of passion. Ignoring her pleas, he had taken her by force, and afterwards, seeing her weep, he had heaped scorn on her. He had taken revenge for Annabel’s betrayal, but on a sweet, lovely girl who had given him more happiness than he had ever known. In his heart, Richard had wanted to beg her to forgive him, but what he had done was beyond forgiveness. Had he not been banished to the West Indies, he would have offered her marriage, but he’d known his father would not relent. In the end, to his eternal damnation, he had walked away and left her to face the consequences. He had been tortured by guilt throughout the sea voyage, which had left him ill of a fever, but once in Jamaica, he had forgotten her. Richard’s mind shied away from what he had witnessed on his relative’s plantation. The brutal behavior of the overseer towards the slaves had turned his stomach, and he had decided to leave to seek his own fortune, even though he knew he would forfeit the pittance his father was prepared to send him. He had travelled extensively in Europe, finding work

where he could, scraping a living, sometimes down to his last coin, sometimes with money to burn in his pockets. His return to England owed more to chance than his grandfather’s attempts to find him, for having been in France when his brother had been killed, he had also learned that his father was dead. The letter of reconciliation never reached him, though he had been given a copy of it by the family solicitor when he called at his chambers in London. Unfortunately, the estate was close to ruin. Richard had begun to make what repairs his grandfather’s income would allow, but he needed to marry money. If he could persuade Hester to marry him, he might have the chance to make something of the estate—and to put right the wrong he had done her. Yet, having met the older, sadder Hester, having seen fear and loathing in her eyes, he had realized what his careless behavior had done to her, though he could not begin to understand the various causes. If she would give him the chance to put things right between them, he would do all in his power to make her happy . . . but how could he expect it? She would turn from him in disgust, as she had every right to do . . . unless . . . Richard smiled wryly. She had loved him once. Surely, he could teach her to love him again. He could not court her in the conventional way, for she would not listen—but if he abducted her . . . No, it was wicked of him to even think of such a thing. He had hurt her once, and he ought not to do anything to harm her again. He must try to find a way to make her understand that he was sorry for what he had done, that he cared for her . . . perhaps then she would give him an opportunity to make amends. **** Hester returned from her ride flushed with pleasure. It had been wonderful to taste the freedom and excitement of being on horseback again after being denied the privilege for so long. What had made it all the more exciting for her was having Captain Crawford by her side. She gazed up into his eyes as he helped her down from her mount. For a moment, she swayed towards him as he stood with his strong, firm hands about her waist, feeling a deep need to be held close to his chest. It was so long since she had felt this close to anyone. She had a warm affection for her cousin, and she loved her brother, but this feeling was something very different. It was almost as if they were two halves of one whole. Making herself move away from him when her whole body was flooded with a deep longing was difficult. However, Hester had been forced to master her desires these past years and that self-control came to aid her now. Her head up, she smiled at him and thanked him politely for the loan of his horse. “She is one of the sweetest-mouthed horses I have ever ridden, and I truly love her. You were kind to lend her to me.” And I love you for it. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone or ever shall. The words were unspoken but in her heart and mind. “Pippa belongs to my father, but I know he would join me in saying that you are welcome to ride her whenever you wish.” “Thank you.” For a moment, her throat tightened with emotion, and she thought that he might take her in his arms to kiss her, but the moment passed, and she was not sure whether she was more relieved than sorry. “I shall see you tomorrow?” “Yes, of course. I am looking forward to meeting your family.”

For a moment longer, he lingered, clearly reluctant to leave her. Hester was also sorry to part from someone whose company she enjoyed so much, but she knew that neither of them had any choice. It was impossible to contemplate spending her life with him, though she knew it was what she wanted more than she could ever have imagined until this moment. Yet, she must not dwell on the future. She must take every second of pleasure from this visit, for it would have to last her a lifetime. **** Riding home after leaving Hester, Paul was deep in thought. He was almost sure that she returned his feelings for her and yet still she maintained her distance. There must be a painful secret in her past. Something that she could not bring herself to speak of to anyone. So absorbed in his thoughts was he that he did not notice he was being shadowed, and so when the shot rang out, narrowly missing him, he was taken by surprise. His horse reared in fright and then bolted. Paul needed all his strength and skill to stay in the saddle. He had no time to look for the source of the shot and did not see the shadow of a man in the stand of trees a little to his right. It was all he could do to bring his horse under control, and by the time he had mastered it the man had gone. However, another traveller had seen the man take aim and fire, but before he could cry a warning, he heard the shot and saw that it had missed its target. He launched his horse at the copse in the hope that he might apprehend the villain, but before he could reach him, he had disappeared. He searched through the copse for some minutes, but the sound of hooves pounding in the distance told him that his quarry had escaped. Unaware that anyone else had seen the incident, Paul raced on until he reached his home. He had no doubt that the shot had been deliberate or that someone had been intending to kill him. He had been careless, but he would take more precautions in future. He had good friends who would help him in this fight to unmask the murderer of their comrades, and they were only waiting for him to send word. **** Richard Mortimer had no love for Captain Crawford but he was not a murderer and he would never shoot a man in the back, though he had killed in a duel while abroad. He might be a rogue and guilty of things he would prefer to forget, but murder was not one of them. It seemed that Captain Crawford had an enemy. The question was—ought he to try and warn him? If recent experience were anything to the point, Crawford would probably take it into his head to blame him for the incident. Besides, that shot should be warning enough, unless he thought it was a poacher taking an unlucky shot at some pigeon. Richard knew that Crawford blamed him for the faulty cannon that had killed those men, but he had acted in good faith, his commission a mere two hundred pounds. The man who had paid him had disappeared immediately after receiving the army's money from Crawford's own hand. Richard had been horrified to learn of the accident and had made up his mind to trace the culprit. He had discovered that the maker was actually a foundry in the north of England and not Hanwell’s company. However, when he journeyed to Yorkshire to make some inquiries he discovered that the owner of the foundry had been murdered. Richard suspected that the murderer must be the same man who had just tried to shoot Crawford in the back—or someone employed by a deadly master. But would Crawford listen to him if he tried to tell him of his suspicions?

Chapter Six Geraldine smiled happily at Hester. Her fiancé was due to arrive that evening and would be staying with them until after her birthday. She had not seen Thomas since leaving Bath, and she was feeling very excited. “I am too restless to stay indoors,” she told Hester after they had partaken of nuncheon. “Shall we walk as far as the lake? The days are flying past and we have hardly had any time to ourselves.” “There has been too much to do,” Hester agreed. She knew that she would miss her friend when she went home. “What with fittings and visiting neighbors, we have been busy all the time.” “You will like my Aunt Longstanton,” Geraldine told her as they set out on their walk. “Paul’s mother is such a lovely lady. She is always forgetting something, and the servants run round after her, retrieving her scarves or her needlework, but no one minds because she never forgets to thank them for their trouble.” “I am looking forward to meeting her tomorrow,” Hester said. She saw an inquisitive look in Geraldine’s eyes and understood the reason behind it. Geraldine suspected that her cousin was courting Hester in his own fashion and she clearly approved. If only she were an innocent girl with no secrets to hide! Hester wished that she had never met Richard Mortimer or that she had not fallen in love with him, as she had. If her past had been as spotless as it might have been, she could have gone to Paul with an open heart—but regrets were useless and would change nothing. **** The sun was shining down on the two girls as they walked arm-in-arm across the wide expanse of lush lawn and through the well-kept shrubbery, heading towards the open parkland that led to the lake. They were both well dressed, one in pink-spotted muslin, the other in grey silk, both carrying shawls and parasols. They both wore straw bonnets and their feet were clad in soft kid boots, their hands covered in little lace mittens that allowed the fingers to remain free, and they looked what they were—two young and privileged ladies. In the trees that obscured the approach to the lake from this angle, the watcher saw them coming and blessed his luck in being there at the right time; it would be easier to snatch the one he wanted in the open air rather than sneaking into the house at night as he had been planning to do. His plans were laid, with a coach and horses waiting nearby and ready to carry off the prize if he succeeded. He had been told to capture the pretty one who was kin to Captain Crawford, and his gaze lit upon the lady in grey. He knew her for he had seen her riding with the gentleman that morning a short time before he had taken a pot shot at the gentleman. He had exceeded his orders in doing so, but the shot had missed, and another gentleman had seen him, however he’d run off in time to avoid being caught. Excitement gripped him as the two ladies drew nearer, for he had been offered more gold than he could expect to see in a lifetime if he carried out his mission. He signalled to the rogues he had employed to help him. “Grab the one in grey,” he whispered. “If the other tries to stop us, push her to the ground but do not harm her. Kidnap is one thing, but I won’t have a woman’s death on my conscience.” Men like Captain Crawford were fair game, but he was too squeamish to kill a defenceless woman.

**** Geraldine and Hester were laughing in the sunshine, completely unaware that danger lurked ahead of them until the rogues sprang out on them. Geraldine was startled unable to believe this was happening on her father’s land, and she watched Hester being dragged away by two of the men in horror. Hester was struggling for all she was worth, but her arms were imprisoned behind her, and she could not fight two men alone. “Stop it!” Geraldine cried and flung herself at one of the men, hitting him with her parasol. He wrenched it away from her, snapped it and discarded it. She then tried kicking and punching him until he gave her a huge push that knocked her to the ground. “Leave her alone I say . . .” “Behave yourself, girl—or you will be sorry!” one of the men grunted at her. Geraldine lay on the ground for a few minutes feeling stunned and disbelieving. The sounds of Hester’s struggle had died away as she rose to her feet, wondering what to do for the best. She was trying to decide whether to try and follow or to fetch help. Hearing the sound of hoof-beats, she glanced up and gave a cry of outrage as she saw who had arrived. “You! How dare you abduct Hester? You wicked, wicked man!” “You wrong me, Miss Holbeach,” Richard Mortimer said and dismounted. “Are you hurt?” “Only a little—but your men have taken Hester.” “Not my men, but the same ones as those who took a pot shot at Captain Crawford this morning I make no doubt. Forgive me if I do not see you safely home, but our best chance of finding her is if I can follow them and discover where they are taking her. Send a message to your cousin, Miss Holbeach. Tell him I am not his enemy, and I would help him discover the man who betrayed us.” Geraldine was left staring at him in dismay as he mounted and rode off in the direction the others had taken earlier. She was trembling now, for she had begun to realize what had happened and the danger Hester was in from the rogues who had snatched her. She must go home and send a message to Paul. She had a sick feeling inside as she turned and ran towards the house. Hester had saved her from abduction. They had blamed Richard Mortimer for the letters and the attempt at kidnap, but now it looked as if they might have been wrong. She prayed that Mortimer had been honest with her for she knew that Hester’s life might be at stake. If Paul had an enemy, that person might stop at nothing to wreak his vengeance on the man he hated. **** Paul was about to sit down to dinner when he received Geraldine’s note. He swore and turned pale, crushing the paper in his hand before smoothing it out to read it once more. “What is wrong, Paul? Lady Ellen Longstanton asked her son, for the look in his eyes was so bleak that it frightened her. “Hester has been kidnapped, and by someone who wishes me dead by the looks of it.” His mother gasped for she knew him well enough to understand that he would count his own life as nothing if it meant saving Hester. “It seems I have been looking for the wrong man. Forgive me, Mother, I must go.” “Yes, of course. Take care, my dearest.”

“Do not concern yourself for me, Mother. I am well able to take care of myself. It is Hester I fear for. If anything should happen to her because of me . . .” She watched him leave, his expression set like iron as he shouted instructions for a horse to be saddled. Paul had risked his life for his friends during the recent wars and been commended for it more times than she could remember. He would not consider himself if the woman he planned to marry were in danger. He had not spoken to her of his marriage, but she had known his intention the first time that he had mentioned the wonderful Miss Weston to her. **** Paul’s mind was working frantically as he took the stairs two at a time and collected the few items he would need for his journey. He changed swiftly into riding dress, shoved a pair of pistols into his coat pockets, and took a purse of gold from his military chest. Then he ran down the stairs to mount the horse his groom had waiting, having wasted no more than twenty minutes. Geraldine had given him clear, precise details for which he blessed her, and he knew that the road the rogues must have taken was the highroad, which led to a crossroads, one towards London, the other winding eastward across country. He must follow as far as the crossroads and then ask questions at the inn there. It would be his guess that they would follow the main road, but he could not be sure. He could only hope that Mortimer had been successful in following them and would find a way to leave word for him. It seemed strange to be thinking of Mortimer as an ally rather than his enemy, and he set himself the task of working out the identity of that man. Someone had tried to shoot him in the back earlier that morning and that person was most likely to be the same one that had kidnapped Hester—but why? For whom was he working? Richard Mortimer had been the go-between for someone else that much was clear in Paul’s mind as he galloped across country to join the road he sought at a point between the two estates. Mortimer had approached the army and obtained the contract for the faulty cannon. In view of recent events, it was likely that he had acted in good faith for a commission. Then who was behind the fraud and the murder of the foundry owner? Paul cursed himself for being misled. Of course! He had been a fool. The traitor would not have come out into the open, for he must have known that he would be caught eventually. He had used Mortimer, relying on the man’s reputation as a black sheep so that the blame would naturally fall on him. And Paul had fallen for it! Now he saw that the man behind this whole affair had a clever mind. Whoever he was, he had probably been in the pay of the French, and he was likely to be an English gentleman. **** Hester awoke with an unpleasant headache. For a few moments, she was confused. She could not think where she was, and then it came back to her. She had been kidnapped, and one of the men had hit her to stop her screaming. The blow had been hard enough to render her unconscious, and she could feel a tender spot on her chin. She touched it gingerly because it was painful.

She was lying on a bed. Sitting up, she discovered that she had not been bound and was free to move as she would. The room was dark, but the curtains had not been drawn, and there was enough light for her to see her way across the room. She got to her feet, swaying a little as for a moment the floor seemed to come up to meet her. Her head cleared gradually and she was able to walk as far as the door, but her attempts to open it were futile. It had been locked from the outside. After tugging at it furiously for a minute or two, Hester walked to the window and looked out. She was on the upper floor of what appeared to be a large country house, and there was a sheer drop to the ground. Clearly, she was a prisoner. She had no way of escape and was at the mercy of whoever had kidnapped her. Frowning, Hester returned to the bed. She could see that the room was adequately furnished with a chest of drawers, a table and a stool, though not in any way luxurious. It might be a part of the servants’ wing perhaps. She was thoughtful as she sat down on the edge of the bed. Why had she been abducted—and by whom? Hester could think of no reason why she should have been taken. She was not a great heiress like Geraldine. But perhaps she had been taken by mistake? She recalled the attack on her friend the day they had visited the ruined abbey and suspected that the rogues who had captured her must have thought that she was the heiress. What would they do when they discovered their mistake? Hester shivered, feeling frightened all at once. She had been too angry with her captors to be frightened but now she realized that she could be in real danger. She was of no use to whoever had seized her. If her captors meant to ask for a ransom, she should wait and see what happened in the meantime. Perhaps her guards would grow careless and she might have a chance to escape. She suspected that a ransom would be demanded. Geraldine would have told everyone what had occurred—but had she been hurt in the struggle? Hester vaguely remembered Geraldine shouting and struggling, but she had not been able to see what had happened to her friend. She prayed that Geraldine was safe at her home and that Paul would be told she had been kidnapped. Hearing a key in the lock, Hester rose to her feet. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, but she raised her head, her face proud as she waited for the door to open. Two men entered. One was carrying a tray of food and the other held a branch of candles. Light flooded the room, banishing the gathering gloom. He stopped to light more candles that stood on a table near the door before turning to look at her. “You are awake,” he said in a gruff but not harsh voice. “I beg your pardon for the blow that rendered you unconscious, miss. You should not have struggled so violently. I told you that you would come to no harm.” “Did you expect me to believe that? How dare you bring me to this place against my will?” “You are here because he ordered it. I obey my master.” “And who is your master?” “That I am not at liberty to say, Miss Holbeach.” It was as she had suspected! They thought she was Geraldine. “You will not answer me—but will you tell me your own name?” “I will answer to John, Miss.” “Then will you let me go, John? I will pay you as much and more than your master has promised you.” Hester spoke as a true heiress might for surely someone would pay him for her return?

“It is more than my life is worth,” John replied. “I shall treat you fairly, miss. I am not a violent man, and I’m sorry my fellow hit you like that—but if I let you go, my master would kill me.” “But what does he want of me? Is it money?” “That’s his business, miss. I can’t say no more.” He hesitated and then signalled to the other man to deposit the tray on the table. “There’s bread, cheese and pickles, and a glass of wine. I could make you some coffee if you wish for it?” Hester shook her head, looking doubtfully at the food. “I promise you the food isn’t drugged. You can eat and drink safely. I give you my word.” “Thank you.” Hester’s stomach felt very empty. It had been some hours since she had eaten after all. “But I would prefer to be taken back to my home.” “I am sorry. I have my orders to keep you here until he comes.” The men went out, leaving Hester with the food and the candles he had lit, which would last for some hours. At least she had light, and it appeared that she was not to be starved for the moment. She went over to the table and broke a small piece of cheese. It was fresh and wholesome as was the bread and butter. Sipping the wine cautiously, she decided that there was nothing peculiar about the taste and drank half of it. Carrying the tray back to set it on the chest beside the bed, she ate and drank in comfort. She ate her supper very slowly and sipped the wine, making it last for as long as possible. She then looked round for somewhere to relieve herself. There was no privy, but she discovered a pot cupboard behind a painted screen. There was also a basin and a jug filled with water that might once have been warm but was now cold. Towels and soap had been provided for her use. Hester made herself more comfortable and then returned to the bed, for there was nowhere else to sit in comfort. She was feeling restless and began to look about her in case there was something she might use to force open the lock on the door. Her search was futile, but she found a small volume of poetry in the top drawer of the chest beside the bed. It would help to while away the time she was imprisoned here, she thought, knowing that she must not allow herself to become frustrated or desperate. She was a prisoner and all she could do was to pray that someone would come looking for her. **** Unknown to Hester, help was closer than she could have imagined, though not from the person she hoped would rescue her. Richard Mortimer had caught up with the coach before it had gone more than a few miles. Had he been armed, he might have attempted to stop it and rescue Hester. Unarmed, he knew that he had no chance of forcing her abductors to give her up. He had therefore followed at a discreet distance and, after watching the house for some hours, was fairly certain that he knew which room Hester was being kept in. He wished that he had a pistol but knew that in the absence of such a weapon, he must improvise. He could not go storming in but perhaps stealth would serve. The men who had captured Hester must sleep eventually. They would think themselves safe enough. If he waited for an hour or so longer, it might be possible to sneak in and snatch Hester from beneath their noses. Yet, if they killed him, Hester might never be recovered. He had left messages for Crawford at various inns and a forge that he had stopped at along the way. If he guessed right, the gallant Captain Crawford would not be far behind. Tempted as he was to rescue Hester himself, Richard hesitated. In this instance, her safety was everything.

He had had wild thoughts of abducting her himself, but he wanted only to persuade her to marry him. These men were very different and had murdered before, if his guess was right. For once in his life, Richard decided to do what was best for someone else rather than himself. He owed it to Hester to give her the best chance of escape. Rather than blundering in alone, he would ride back the way he had come and look for Crawford. He was bound to be armed, and together they would have a better chance of rescuing Hester. Afterwards, it would be a matter of each man for himself. **** Paul had followed his instincts, believing that the men who had abducted Hester would have taken the London road, rather than try to escape through the narrow cross-country lanes that led eastwards. He knew that there was no sense in riding hell for leather, stopping at the first village he had come to inquire if a carriage had been seen travelling at speed. He was told that a carriage had passed that way an hour or so earlier and that the coachman had been driving his horses hard. Paul thought that would probably mean they would have to change horses at a hostelry if they planned to travel far. They would need to stop soon—unless their destination was somewhere on the road. His fear was that they would turn off down a country lane and that he would miss them. Therefore, he must take the time to inquire at frequent intervals along the road and be prepared to turn back and explore other avenues if he lost them. The frustration of not knowing if he was heading in the right direction was hard to bear, but Paul had nothing to help him. His mouth settled into a thin line of anger. Somehow, he would find Hester! If it took him weeks or months, he would find her and take her home. He rode throughout the night, stopping only at a hostelry to change his horse for a fresh mount. It was there that he received news that heartened him, for his questions met with answers that confirmed it. “Aye, sir, ’tis strange that you ask. A man left his horse here and hired another from us. He paid me a guinea to pass a message on to a Captain Crawford—would you be he, sir?” “Yes, I am Crawford.” Paul took a gold coin from his pocket. “How long since he was here?” “Be about two hours since, sir. He said to tell you to keep following the London road and that he would leave word where he could.” Paul thanked him and rode on. He had made good time and with any luck would catch up with Mortimer before morning. He had feared he might have missed them, taken the wrong road from the start, but it seemed his instincts had served him well. Mortimer was leaving word for him as he went and that was a great help. It seemed that Paul had seriously misjudged him and that meant he was dealing with an unknown enemy, a man who would stop at nothing to gain his own way. **** Hester fell asleep after her candle went out. She had decided that there was no sense in pacing the room endlessly. Her chance for escape would only come if her captors grew careless, and for that, she must be patient. When she awoke and heard the sound of a key turning in the lock of her room, she pulled the bedcovers up around her and closed her eyes. Let them believe she was still sleeping and perhaps her chance would come.

It was still dark and whoever had entered the room was carrying a branch of lighted candles. As they approached the bed and bent towards her, she could feel the heat of the flames against her cheek. It took all her strength of mind to stop herself opening her eyes, especially when she heard a man curse softly. “Damned fools!” he muttered. “You’ve taken the wrong one.” “She was riding with Crawford and he seemed mighty fond of her, sir.” “You may be right. Yes, a man might risk anything for the woman he loves. Well, we have Hester, and she’ll be bait for our little trap. Crawford will already be on his way. Keep alert, John. You know what I want.” “You want him dead, but he’s a tricky customer, sir. It won’t be easy, for he’s bound to be armed.” “You may leave that pleasure to me. He has meddled in my affairs too long.” “And what of her?” “She is to be treated well. If she behaves I may let her go when we have what we want.” “Yes, sir. It would play on my conscience if she came to harm, sir.” “You’ll do as you’re bid or I might decide to dispense with your services.” “You know I wouldn’t betray you, sir.” They were moving away from the bed. Hester risked opening her eyes in time to see them go out. Her heart was racing wildly, her mind whirling in confusion. Could her senses have told her truly? Surely she must be mistaken! She had seemed to know the owner of that voice, but it could not be. She eased up into a sitting position, hunching her knees to her chest as she recalled the men’s conversation. It seemed that her life might hang in the balance, but one thing was very clear—the man who had ordered her capture intended to kill Paul. No! It must not happen. Somehow she must escape before Paul could arrive. His enemy was a very dangerous man—a man she was almost certain she knew well. In her own mind, she had suspected that Richard Mortimer was behind this wretched business. She and Geraldine had both believed that he had sent those letters and also that he had tried to abduct the girl. Her memory of that fateful day when he had forcefully seduced her had painted him in the colors of a villain. However, she was now fairly certain that he was not the culprit in this case. Hester sat watching as the light began to creep into the room. She must at least try to escape, and subterfuge might help, if the man who brought her food thought that she was still sleeping. She got up and arranged the bed to look as if a figure was huddled under the covers, and then perched on the edge. When she heard the key in the lock, she got to her feet hastily and went over to the door, standing where she would be hidden behind it as it opened into the room. She seized a heavy candlestick just in case, though she would not use it unless she was forced. A man came in carrying a tray. She was glad that it was not John, who had been kind to her. He walked over to the bed, setting his burden down on the cabinet beside it. “Are you awake, miss?” Hester moved swiftly. She was out of the door before he realized that it was only the bolster in the bed. Even as he gave a shout of alarm, she was locking the door behind her. She slipped the key into the bodice of her gown and clutched her weapon tightly. If need be she would fight but she must try to hide from her captors. The man she had locked in was beginning to shout and bang on the door, which meant that at any moment the others might come charging up the stairs to investigate.

It would not be wise to use the main stairs but perhaps the landing would take her to another entrance. She ran swiftly to the other end, wrenching wide the door there and finding that, as she had hoped, it opened onto a steep, narrow staircase habitually used by the kitchen servants. She closed it behind her even as the sound of pounding footsteps warned her that the others were arriving. Thankfully, the locked door would keep them guessing for a few moments. Once the door was closed behind her, it was quite dark on the stairs, and Hester was forced to feel her way down to the bottom, where yet another door opened on to what were obviously the family bedrooms. Here there was plenty of light and she fled along the landing and down a short flight of steps to the next floor. She could hear a commotion above her and hesitated before running down the main staircase to the hall below. Hearing a door open nearby, Hester went into a small parlor to her right, just as a man came out into the hall and, giving a shout, began to run up the stairs. Hester looked about her. She was in a small but well furnished parlor, and she could see a pair of French windows that led out onto a terrace. Praying that they would not be locked, she ran towards them and found that although they were locked, a key had been carelessly left on an occasional table near by. She inserted the small key, her heart beating wildly as she wondered if it would fit and murmuring a prayer of thanks as she discovered that it turned easily. In another moment, she was out of the door and running along the terrace. She fled down the steps and across the lawn to the shrubbery. If she was seen from the house, they would come after her and she could not get far before being recaptured. “Hester! Thank God!” Even as she heard the cry, a man came towards her from the shelter of an overgrown rose arbor. She smothered the scream that rose to her lips, giving a little sob of relief as she saw that it was Paul. Behind him, looking slightly awkward was Richard Mortimer. She had believed the two men enemies and was bewildered when Paul said, “Go with Richard, Hester. You may trust him to look after you until I come.” “But you . . .” She realized that he meant to go into the house after the rogues who had kidnapped her. “You must not, Paul! It is just what they want. He wants you dead. I heard him say he would kill you. It was the reason I was taken, except that they thought I was Geraldine . . .” “They cannot be allowed to get away with this,” Paul said looking grim. “If they are not stopped, they may try again, and next time we may not be so lucky.” “Please let us go now,” Hester said. “I could not bear to be the cause of your death.” “Hester is right,” Richard said. “You take her home, Crawford. She will feel better with you, I daresay. I shall stay here and watch. If I see the man that paid me for selling you those cannon I shall know him. Who knows, he may lead me to the man behind all this.” “I think I may know . . .” She hesitated as they both stared at her. “I did not see him for I dare not open my eyes when they came to my room in the dark—but I knew the voice, and I believe it was Henry Blackwater.” “Good grief!” Richard exclaimed. “You must be mistaken surely?” “Yes, perhaps—but it sounded like him, though I admit I did not see his face. He thought I was asleep and spoke more openly than he would otherwise have done.” “Keep watch here,” Paul said, making up his mind. “You have the pistol I gave you if you need it, Mortimer. Use it to good effect if you must, but try to watch and see what happens and where they go. I would see this rogue hang for his crimes, which are many. Whoever he is . . .” He took Hester’s arm. “You will have to ride with me until we can buy fresh horses. “Come to me when you leave here, Mortimer. We have things to discuss.”

Richard nodded, his gaze on Hester’s face. “Take care of her, Crawford. Her safety comes first in all this.” Such a look accompanied his words that Hester was shocked. For a moment, she had seen the young Richard Mortimer—a man she had loved with her innocent heart. But he had broken her heart and left her to face the consequences alone. “Come, Hester,” Paul said leading her through the shrubbery to a small iron gate in the wall that enclosed the estate. Outside the gate, two horses were tethered. Paul untied one and then took Hester’s hand. He drew her forward, gazing down at her for a moment before placing his hands about her waist. She was conscious of some strong emotion in him. “I was afraid we might be too late,” he said and then swept her up to the saddle. Mounting behind her, he put his arms about her, holding her pressed against him. “I think I should not have wanted to live if you were dead.” Hester trembled but his arms held her tightly. She felt safe and protected as he urged his horse to a canter and then faster and faster until the countryside seemed to be flying past. Neither of them spoke until they reached the inn where Paul hired a horse for Hester. She felt bereft when his arms were no longer about her, but knew that they would travel faster this way. “You will soon be home, Hester,” Paul said and she knew as she stood gazing into his eyes for a moment that he was going to kiss her. “You have been so brave, my darling. Almost any other woman I know would have wept, but you have not blamed me for bringing this trouble upon you.” “Why should I blame you?” She felt as if she were drowning in the sky blue of his eyes, drifting on clouds. “It was not your fault.” “My sweet Hester.” He bent his head, his lips soft on hers as he gathered her to him with a little shudder, holding her so tenderly against his heart. Then he drew back and looked at her. “I was so fearful of what they might do to you. Richard was for storming the house, and we had talked of the best way to rescue you, and then there you were, running towards us.” “I did not want them to succeed in their plan to kill you. They expected you to come after me, and they were waiting for you.” She described how she had duped her captors with the bolster and he smiled. “It was so simple. I think they must have thought me sufficiently cowed not to dare to try escape.” Paul’s arms tightened about her, a shudder running through him as he thought what might have happened if Hester had been caught in the attempt. She might have been killed, shot in the back—as someone had already tried to shoot him. “We must lose no time, my love, for they may try to follow us. Mortimer will watch if he is able, and perhaps we may learn more of this enemy. I had thought it a simple case of fraud and treachery, but it becomes more complicated, and I begin to wonder what lies behind all this trickery.” “How did you come to be with Richard Mortimer? I believed you thought he was the man responsible for those faulty cannon?” “He was but the go-between. I have learned that from his own lips, and this time I believe him, for he has done much to help me. It was due to Mortimer that I was able to find you. He saw your abduction but was too far away to help. However, he sent Geraldine to warn me and followed their carriage. Then he left messages for me, and once he knew where they were holding you, he came back to find me. He could not act alone, because he was unarmed. I had brought my pistols and I gave him one. We were on the verge of storming the house when we saw you come out.”

“That was well done of him,” Hester said looking thoughtful. “I had not thought him so unselfish.” “He would have come in after you sooner but had no weapon and feared that if he were killed you might never be found alive.” “It seems that I owe him some gratitude.” “Indeed.” Paul frowned. “And I an apology, for I have wronged him. I thought him a cheat and a traitor, but it seems he has been duped as much as I in the matter of those cannon, and is just as keen to unmask the traitor.” Hester was thoughtful as he helped her to mount her own horse. She had been used to thinking of Richard Mortimer as the man who had betrayed and shamed her, and it was strange to know that he had done so much to help her. In her experience, he was unlikely to bother over the welfare of others. The last few hours had turned her world upside down, but for the moment she must think only of keeping pace with Paul’s horse. If they were pursued it might lead to bloodshed, and she did not want to see him lying dead at her feet. **** It was mid afternoon when they arrived at their destination, which Hester discovered to her surprise, was the beautiful and very large home of the Marquis of Longstanton and his family. “Are we not returning to Geraldine’s home?” “I shall feel safer if you are here for the moment,” Paul told her. “Besides, my mother bade me bring you safely home to her. I believe she wants to take you under her wing, dearest.” His smile was a caress that set her heart racing, and her hand trembled as he took it in his one. “You must not deny me, Hester. The time for pretence is over. You know that I want you for my own. Your place is here with us, where we can take proper care of you. Come and meet my mother, dearest.” “But . . .” A protest trembled on Hester’s lips. She knew that she ought to confess her shameful secret, but how could she? Paul’s loving gaze was upon her, his look a caress that made it impossible for her to tell him the painful truth. She was not fit to be his bride, but perhaps she need not tell him just yet. It would be too hurtful to see him turn from her in disgust. She would find the way in the end, but not yet. Her abduction and rescue had left her feeling vulnerable. Another day she would be strong enough to tell him that they could not marry. He was drawing her towards the house and even as they mounted the steps leading to the terrace, a lady dressed in a floating gown of soft blue came hurrying out to meet them. She was, Hester thought, very beautiful, her face soft with love as she looked at her son and then at Hester. She was wearing a lace cap from which hair the color of flame had escaped in several places to curl about her face and neck, and she dropped her shawl as she came to throw her arms about them. “Oh, my dears,” she cried kissing Paul and then Hester with equal warmth. “How glad I am to see you both safely back. Lord Longstanton said it would be so, but I have been fretting all morning, and I hardly slept last night.” She cast an anxious look at her son and then turned to Hester. “My poor love, what a wretched time you must have had. You are not to worry about a thing. I am going to take you upstairs and you shall rest for a while. You must be exhausted.”

“Yes, I am a little tired,” Hester confessed. She was also hungry but said nothing as she was shepherded away by her kind hostess. “It was a long ride.” “Dreadful. Quite dreadful,” Lady Longstanton said and gave a little shudder. Another long wisp of hair escaped to straggle down her neck. “But you are safe now you know. We shall take the greatest care of you, but for the moment, you must always take one of the grooms with you when you walk out. Paul will bring this wicked man to justice—unless he already has, of course?” Her eyes were bright with anticipation, hopeful of a quick end to the trouble. “No. I had escaped from my captors before they had time to storm the house. Someone is watching the house in hopes of discovering who exactly is behind all this, and where they go. Paul wanted to settle with them at once, but Richard insisted that he should bring me home and leave him to watch.” “How sensible of him,” Lady Longstanton approved. “Richard would be the gentleman who saw it all happen and acted swiftly to follow, I suppose? Geraldine was here earlier this morning, and she told us everything. It was a shocking thing to happen, my dear. Your cousin was most upset.” “Yes, I am sure she would be. I must let her know I am safe.” “I shall send word, Hester. Perhaps it will be best if she comes here to be with you, my dear. I am sure Paul will not be brought to part with you until this awful business is over. Indeed, I am not certain he can spare you at all.” She smiled at her. “I know it is not official as yet, but my son is an open book to me. You cannot imagine how delighted I am that he has found someone to love. He was away fighting for so many years that I sometimes despaired of him ever finding happiness. I suspected that it had happened when he returned from Bath, and he was like a wild thing when he thought you lost. Now that we have met, I completely understand why he loves you, Hester.” Hester could not help being warmed by her hostess, who was charming and irresistible. She had enveloped Hester with a shawl of love, and it was so good to be fussed over like this. Hester felt her will to resist melting in the sun of Lady Longstanton’s smile. She knew that she must tell Paul the truth one day, but for the moment, all she wanted was to be a loved and respected member of this family. They had reached one of what must surely be the best bedchambers. The pretty satinwood furniture and the soft colors of deep rose and pale pink that gave the room its feeling of comfort enchanted Hester. The bed was draped with a deep rose brocade, the cover of a paler silk, which was echoed in the window curtains. A small love seat covered in cream silk stood at the foot of the bed, and a dainty chair upholstered to match was set at an elegant writing desk near the window. There was a dressing chest, a cheval mirror, and various stools and occasional tables all adding charm to the whole. “What a beautiful room!” “Yes, it is lovely,” Lady Longstanton agreed. “I stayed here once for a few days before my wedding. It will be a part of your suite when you are Paul’s wife, my dear.” She smiled serenely, little guessing that she had sent Hester’s nerves spiralling. “Now, you will find everything you need just through there, Hester. Please make yourself comfortable. We dine in two hours, and a maid will bring you a fresh gown in an hour or so. Until then no one will disturb you.” “Thank you,” Hester said feeling her throat close with emotion. “You are so kind to me.” “Nonsense! I am mortified that you should have been treated so ill, my dear. We must try to spoil you a little to make it up to you. And now I shall leave you to rest.”

Hester sank onto the edge of the bed after her hostess had left. She was feeling tired, more so than she had imagined. It was perhaps the strain of the last few hours, for now that she was safe she had begun to realize what might have happened to her—and death was not the only or the worst of it. She decided to undress, letting her gown fall to the floor as she crept into bed and covered herself. She was too tired to think about any of it at the moment. Closing her eyes, she fell into a sound sleep and did not stir when the maid came up to help her dress an hour later. **** Paul opened the bedroom door softly. There were two rooms between his own bedchamber and hers, and the thought of her lying here had drawn him as a moth to the flame. He stood looking down at her as she slept. She looked so peaceful and lovely that he smiled, wishing that he might wake her and take her into his arms and make love to her. However, that was a privilege of marriage. He would not dishonor the woman he loved, though his body burned for her. Of late, she had begun to haunt his dreams, waking him to a need that he had never felt so urgently before. He controlled the leap of desire that surged through him as she sighed, flinging out a white arm. She would be his soon enough. He would be patient no matter the cost to him. She was his to love and honor for he had sensed her surrender when he kissed her and he could never let her go now. The past few hours and taught him the meaning of despair and he knew that to lose her was more than he could bear. She had not yet told him her secret, but he believed that he might guess. She had given her heart as a young girl and had it broken. It was only natural that she should be careful about giving it again. Hester stirred, murmuring something he could not quite catch as she flung her arm across the bed in a restless movement. For a moment, the temptation to hold her was overwhelming—but he resisted. He should not be here. If Hester woke and saw him, she would be shocked. He must leave before he gave into the urge to make love to her.

Chapter Seven Hester woke to find her room in darkness save for the light coming through the window from a sky that had just begun to turn rose with the dawn. She yawned and stretched, a smile on her lips for her dreams had been pleasant, though with the morning she knew that they were impossible. She had dreamed that she was Paul’s wife, that he had woken her from sleep to make love to her, and that it had been the most wonderful feeling of her life. She rose and went over to the window, pulling the curtains wider to allow the light to flood into her room. She was feeling much better for having had such a long, restful sleep and very hungry. Seeing the tray of food that had been brought up for her at some time while she was sleeping, she tasted a small biscuit, which was nutty and delicious, and then ate all the others, sipping the milk but setting it aside because it was tepid. She had broken the worst of her hunger and would manage now until breakfast. Finding that a fresh gown had been laid out for her on the loveseat, she decided to wash and dress and go downstairs. She did not know whether it would be possible for her to ride, because she was not sure if Pippa was still at Geraldine’s home, and her habit was surely still there. In the wild flight from her captors, she had ridden in her walking gown, but that would not do now that she was the guest of Lord and Lady Longstanton. But there was no harm in her going into the gardens for a little walk. She remembered that her hostess had requested that she take a groom whenever she went anywhere, but surely she must be safe enough if she stayed close to the house. She could hear sounds of movement within the house and thought that some of the servants must be stirring, which meant that the gardeners would be at work. Indeed, when she went downstairs, she was greeted twice by maids, who nodded at her and wished her a good morning. A footman, who looked sleepy-eyed, opened the door for her, and she smiled at him as she went out into the cool air. As she had expected, gardeners were already at work on the rose beds, and they inclined their heads respectfully as she walked past. There was a look almost of appraisal in their eyes, and Hester had a feeling that already the servants were aware that she was expected to be Captain Crawford’s wife. It gave her an odd feeling inside, and she wondered what they would think of her when she turned him down, as she must eventually. She stopped and bent to smell a lovely full-blown rose of a deep red color. It was delightful, and she thought that she would like to pick it and take it to her room, but could not do so, as she was a guest here. “Would you like to pick it?” Paul’s voice behind her made her spin round. Her heart raced as she looked up at him. “I am sure the gardeners would not mind in the circumstances.” “It smells lovely,” she said and smiled at him. “I am tempted, but it is not mine to pick.” “It is mine, for I am the son and heir and may do as I please,” he said, a gleam of mischief in his eyes as he reached out and broke the stem. A thorn pricked his skin, bringing a tiny spot of blood to the surface. “Take care, Hester. It has taken it’s revenge on me, but I would not have it vent its spite on you.” “I am so sorry,” she said and gave him a lace handkerchief. “Bind it with this. I fear it has been used to wipe a few tears, but as yet I do not have a fresh one.” “It will be all the more precious if it bears your tears,” Paul said gallantly and bound his finger with it. “I believe your things will arrive today with your cousin, who has agreed to stay with us for a while—at least that is what I have from my mother, and she is usually right. Few ever oppose her, though she never raises her voice. You will learn that she is the

sweetest lady, but somehow we all bow to her will. And she has decided that you and the countess are to be our guests for an indefinite period. Indeed, she speaks of writing to invite your mother to stay.” “I wish she would not,” Hester said. It would spoil everything if her mother were to arrive too soon, for she would lose no time in making it clear that her daughter was not worthy of the honor she was being shown in this house. “Mama . . . would not wish to come, and she would probably demand that I go home at once.” “You do not wish to go home?” “No, of course not. I—I am looking forward to Geraldine’s dance.” “Is there no other reason you would wish to stay here?” Paul’s blue eyes seemed to look deep into her heart. “Please tell me the truth, Hester, for I think you know that it is my intention to ask you to . . .” Hester was gathering her courage as she prepared to tell him the truth when they heard the sound of hoof beats and then a horse and rider came galloping up to them. Some instinct made Hester step backward as Richard Mortimer dismounted and came towards them. He glanced at her, concern in his face that she could not doubt was genuine, and inclined his head towards her. “I am glad to see you well, Miss Weston,” he said. “I have brought news that I think you may find interesting, Crawford.” “Is it private or may I listen?” Hester asked. “And I am glad to see that you were not harmed, sir. I must thank you for your intervention on my behalf yesterday.” “It was no more than any gentleman would do,” he replied, his dark eyes intent on her face. Hester blushed and looked away. “But what I have to say to Captain Crawford concerns the men who captured you. I knew one of them for it was he who paid me to approach the army—and you in particular, Crawford. That aspect of it had not struck me until today.” “Did you see any sign of Henry Blackwater?” “No, I do not think he was there. The house appeared to be empty apart from the men who took Miss Weston there, though there may be a couple of caretakers, I believe. I thought I would go to London when I leave here and make it my business to discover who owns the estate.” “Yes, that might help us,” Paul agreed looking thoughtful. “I shall bear an open mind on what you told us, Hester. It seems incredible that Blackwater could be involved and yet anything is possible.” Richard nodded in agreement. “I followed the others as far as an inn on the London Road, where they dispersed, but I overheard the man I had met before—his name is John Dune by the way, and he is a plausible rogue. Well, I heard him giving his bullyboys instructions to meet him at a certain inn in Blackfriars the day after tomorrow. I shall see what more I can learn of their intentions and return.” “Thank you,” Paul said. He turned to Hester. “Why do you not go in now, my dearest? I have something to say to Viscount Mortimer that does not concern you.” “Very well.” Hester obeyed him without demur, for she knew that she was but a small part of the business that had made these two men unlikely allies. She walked unhurriedly towards the house, unaware that two pairs of eyes watched her leave. **** Paul turned to Mortimer as soon as she was out of earshot, his brows raised. “Very well, now you may tell me what is on your mind, sir.”

“It has occurred to me that this business might be more personal to you than you realize, Crawford. It is true that you have made it plain that you intend to bring the traitor to justice and that alone would be enough to sign your death warrant—but have you a personal enemy? Anyone who wishes you ill? I did not at first remember that I was instructed to deal only with you in the matter of those cannon, but now it makes me wonder.” “You mean the perpetrator thought to discredit me and that was his prime objective rather than to sow seeds of discord amongst our men?” “I, too, thought that the objective when I first heard what had happened, and I was angry, because I realized that I had been used. I did try to tell you the truth, Crawford, but by the time I caught up with you, you had already decided that I was the traitor.” “I was looking for proof, which I have so far been unable to find—because the owner of the foundry was murdered.” “Yes, I drew a blank there too, but it is my intention to make John Dune talk, and this is what I did not wish Miss Weston to hear. I am not a particularly violent man, but I can find men who will do anything for money. Like you, I am determined that this rogue shall be brought to justice, whatever it takes. Your life is your own to risk as you will, but I believe Miss Weston may still be at risk. If by chance she was right and Blackwater was involved in this, he may put in an appearance to try and discover if she knows anything.” “The devil of it is that both he and his aunt are invited to stay for Geraldine’s dance and engagement,” Paul said, his expression harsh. “But you may be sure that I shall keep a watchful eye—and if you should be able to return by then, you will be welcome as my guest. We have been on opposite sides in this, but there is no reason why we should not work together in the future. I think we both want the culprit punished?” “Yes, indeed.” Richard nodded. “I thank you for the invitation, sir, but I must make it plain that I have an interest in the matter. I do not know how things stand between you and Miss Weston—but it is my intention to ask her to marry me if she will.” Paul frowned, for he had sensed something in Hester’s manner when Mortimer first came up to them that morning. She had seemed a little confused, and the look of dislike had not been there when she spoke to him of her gratitude. That was not strange for without his help she might never have been recovered despite her gallant attempt at escape: alone and on foot, Paul knew that she would soon have been recaptured. “Do you believe you have hopes?” he asked. “I do not know,” Richard replied. “She . . . cared for me once, but I lost the right to her respect. I would make amends for the harm I once did her—and I do care for her. She may dismiss my offer at once, but I thought it right to warn you that I mean to make it.” “At least you have been honest,” Paul said, though his mouth was tight, for he was angry that any other man should have the right to address the woman he loved. “I shall not take back my offer, sir. Hester must choose whom she will marry. If she takes you, then I must wish you both happy—but I shall do my best to persuade her to marry me.” “That is your right,” Richard said. “But give me your word that you will not take unfair advantage while I am gone on this business for us both?” Paul ground his teeth in silent frustration, for what else could he do but agree? It was necessary for one of them to go to London, and Mortimer could have refused. He had not done so, which put Paul on his mettle, and he, in his turn, must behave as honorably. “Very well, you have my word. I shall not ask Hester to marry me until after your return.” “Thank you.” Richard grinned at him. “You are a better man than I, Crawford, for I would not have agreed. But I thank you for your promise, and once I have asked and been

refused, I will leave the field clear to you. I once had wild thoughts of abducting her, but she does not deserve that—particularly from me.” “I think you hurt her once,” Paul said his brow creased. “She has not told me, but I know that she has been hurt badly, and I have thought it might be you.” “I courted her,” Richard replied but stopped short. “But my father sent me abroad for past sins, and I was forced to leave her.” Paul nodded, accepting him at his word. He had suspected that she had had her heart broken, but now it gave him pause for thought. If Mortimer’s desertion had hurt her as deeply as he suspected, she must have loved him very much. He had believed that Hester was coming to love and trust him, but if Richard Mortimer came back into her life as a hero who had helped to save her life, might her old love not be rekindled? Was it perhaps reluctance to let go of an old dream that had made her resist his attempts to court her? Watching Richard Mortimer ride away, that he might have been pushing Hester too hard for an answer concerned Paul. He was in love with her, and his senses told him that she loved him in return—but supposing she agreed to marry him and then began to regret her bargain. It might be better if he waited for a time to give her a chance to know her own heart. **** Hester could have no knowledge of what had taken place between the two men. She no longer felt as angry with Richard Mortimer as she once had. He had done much to save her from the men who had abducted her and was prepared to do more. While that did not exonerate him from his past misdeeds, it made him less of a black sheep in her eyes. It did not change the fact that she was in love with Paul Crawford nor that she could not marry him without telling him the truth about her past fall from grace. She thought that if he asked her to marry him, she would immediately tell him why it was impossible, but if he did not speak, then she would keep her secret. She was finishing her breakfast when Paul came in, and she gave him a shy smile. He nodded pleasantly, but she was aware of an odd reserve in him that made her wonder what had changed him. Earlier, he had seemed intent on courting her, but now it was as if they had gone back to where they were before they left Bath. “Has the viscount left?” “Yes. Did you wish to speak with him?” “Oh no. I think I have said all that was due,” Hester said. “He will be returning shortly. I have invited him to stay. You will have opportunity enough to speak with him then if you wish.” Hester was silent. Was Paul angry with her? Had Richard Mortimer said something to him? Surely not? And yet there was a change. It was in her mind to ask if something was the matter, but at that moment, she heard voices outside the breakfast room and then Charlotte entered. “Cousin!” she cried and leaped to her feet. “You are early.” Charlotte seldom rose before eleven. “I was anxious about you, dearest Hester. Those wicked men! What did they do to you?” “Nothing very terrible,” Hester said and touched her chin. It was still a little tender, but the bruise had faded. “I was rendered unconscious for a few hours, but otherwise, they treated me kindly enough.”

“They did not—” Charlotte stopped abruptly as she saw Paul. “I must thank you for your prompt action, Captain Crawford. I have been out of my mind with worry over my cousin, and now she is safe thanks to you.” “I was not alone,” Paul said and his eyes were on Hester’s face. “Viscount Mortimer saw it happen as you know. He followed and left messages for me. We were to have attempted the rescue together, but Hester saved us the trouble by escaping.” “You escaped?” Charlotte stared at her. “Oh, my dear! What a thing! You were very brave and clever.” “It was almost too easy,” Hester said. “I played the kind of trick a girl might on her governess and slipped out when he went to wake me for breakfast. I was lucky. . . unless. . .” “What are you thinking, Hester?” Paul was suddenly alert as he saw the look in her eyes. “Have you remembered something more?” “I have wondered if I was meant to escape. It did not occur to me at first, but now I am wondering. It was not me they meant to take, but Geraldine—though they still meant to use me. Unless he changed his mind.” “Why should he do that?” Hester frowned and shook her head. “I do not know. It would not be sensible of him, would it? His plan was to lure you in and kill you. By letting me go, he abandoned that hope.” “Someone who cared for your good opinion might decide it was the lesser of two evils—particularly if he did not wish you to die too.” “This is all so terrifying,” Charlotte said and shuddered. “I do not know what your mother would have said to me if anything had happened to you, Hester.” Hester shook her head. She could not think that her mother would care very much either way, but she did not contradict her cousin. “Well, since I am unharmed, there is no necessity for her to know.” “Oh, but I wrote to her immediately, and so did the Marchioness,” Charlotte replied. “I have had word that she is on her way here and should arrive tomorrow afternoon at the latest.” Hester had a sinking feeling inside. The last thing she needed was the imminent arrival of her mother, but there was nothing she could do. If Mrs. Weston had decided to come here, nothing would stop her. At least it would save Hester the trouble of telling Captain Crawford that she was not worthy of him: her mother would do that for her. She rose from the table, her head high. “Would it be possible for me to go riding later, Captain Crawford? I shall naturally keep Charlotte company this morning, but I would like to ride this afternoon if it is possible.” “Yes, of course, Hester.” He looked at her in an odd way. “I should like to accompany you, but unfortunately I have business that will take me elsewhere this afternoon. However, I shall tell the groom to be ready by two o’clock, and he will accompany you. You will do me the favor of not leaving the estate. I have men patrolling the boundaries and know you to be safe here, but beyond that, I cannot be certain.” His expression was grim, angry. “Yes, of course,” Hester replied. “I hope I am not being a trouble to you, sir?” “You could never be that,” he said, and for an instant, the caressing look was back in his eyes. “Forgive me for not accompanying you—perhaps tomorrow?” “Yes, perhaps,” Hester said and smiled. “Yes, I should like that very much.” For a moment, she remembered their wild ride when his arms were about her, holding her pressed against his chest, the heat of his body warming her, making her tremble with longing. She knew a spiral of desire deep within her, melting her body, heating her cheeks as

she realized how wanton her thoughts were. It would not do! He would turn from her in disgust if he could read her mind, for it would confirm her wickedness. “Have you eaten?” she asked her cousin, turning the conversation. “May I pour you some tea or chocolate?” “I broke my fast first thing,” Charlotte said. “For the moment, all I want is to hear about your escape, my dearest. Come upstairs with me while I tidy myself, and we can talk.” Hester allowed herself to be drawn away. She resisted the temptation to look back at Paul, which was a pity for she might have seen a wistful look in his eyes that would have told her that he too was regretting the interruption to their talk. Hester’s ride that afternoon was uneventful. She enjoyed the exercise, but the magic of her ride with Paul was missing, and she thought wistfully that soon enough all this would be but a memory. Her mother would soon put a stop to any dreams she might have that somehow Paul would understand what had happened, that he would not blame her too much—would be able to forgive and forget, to accept her as his wife. It was foolish to allow herself such dreams, of course. Her father had made it clear that any decent man would feel only disgust for a girl who had behaved so wantonly. And the feelings she was experiencing when near Paul recently, the dreams she had begun to have of being in his arms, in his bed, were so abandoned that she knew her father was right. She was not a modest young woman! She was a wicked girl, and no man would love her once he knew her secret. She returned to the house after her ride, changed into a fresh gown and went down to join the other ladies. Charlotte and her hostess were sitting together and seemed to be getting on like a house on fire judging from their smiles as she entered. “You look beautiful, my love,” Lady Longstanton said. “Such fresh color in your cheeks. I am glad you enjoy riding. It was a passion with me in my youth, and I sometimes ride even now. We shall be able to ride together sometimes, Hester—and I must teach you to drive. I have my own pair, you know. Longstanton says that I am the best female whip he knows. He taught me years ago, and is very proud of that fact. He says I have better hands than Paul, though you must not tell him so.” Hester laughed and joined them as tea was brought in. They talked of inconsequential things until it was time to go up and change for dinner. Charlotte followed Hester into her room, looking at her thoughtfully. “The marchioness seems to think it inevitable that you will marry her son, Hester. May I ask if he has spoken yet?” “No, not yet,” Hester replied, her cheeks warm. “I think he may—but he has not done so yet.” “Have you thought about your answer?” “I should like to accept but you know that I must tell him first.” “Is that really necessary, dearest? I know you want to do what is right—but sometimes secrets are best kept to oneself.” “I cannot marry him unless he can accept what has happened in the past,” Hester said firmly. “But I think that Mama will not allow it. She is sure to do something to stop it when she comes—do you not think so?” “No, I do not believe that will be the case,” Charlotte said, surprising her. “Your mother cannot but be aware that it is an excellent match. I believe she has more sense than to spoil your chances of becoming Lady Crawford.” “Lady . . .” Hester was thoughtful. “I had not considered that aspect. Paul does not use his title, does he?”

“He prefers the title he earned as an officer,” Charlotte said and smiled. “I find that rather admirable—though of course he will one day become the tenth marquis, and as his wife, you would be addressed in the proper manner.” “Oh, Charlotte,” Hester said, “as if I cared for that—but it does make me wonder if I might be the cause of scandal to such a family. It would be truly dreadful if I married Paul and then it came out.” “Why should it?” Charlotte held out her hand and Hester took it, feeling as if she needed some comfort. “No one but your family knows what happened, dearest—and even we do not know the name of the gentleman concerned.” “No—but he does and . . .” She took a deep breath. “Supposing he used it to blackmail me?” “He would not?” Charlotte looked shocked as Hester was silent. “You have seen him recently? Tell me who this scoundrel is and I shall talk to him.” “That would only make him angry,” Hester said. “I am not saying that he would speak, but he might and that would be terrible. I had thought that perhaps I might tell Paul and he would accept the truth, but . . .” She shook her head. “I do not know what to do for the best, cousin.” “Well, you can do nothing until Paul asks you,” Charlotte said in a bracing tone. “If you insist that you must tell him the truth, then perhaps that will be for the best. I am sure that he will be able to set your mind at rest.” “Yes, of course,” Hester said sure that it was hopeless for Paul would not risk bringing such a terrible scandal into his family. He might not care for titles, but he must care for the old and honorable name of his family. She lifted her head, forcing herself to smile. “Well, I am no worse off for having faced the truth, because I always knew in my heart that it could never be.” Charlotte shook her head at her. She could see that Hester was breaking her heart over this business, but there was nothing more she could do or say for the moment. She could only pray that things would turn out happily for the girl she loved. On the surface of things, the evening passed very pleasantly. Both Charlotte and Hester performed a piece on the pianoforte for the pleasure of their hosts, and Lady Longstanton sang for them, a very pretty, amusing ditty that made them all laugh. However, Charlotte was not the only one to notice the occasional sadness in Hester’s eyes. **** It was Paul who felt the most concern, for he could not help wondering if perhaps Hester was missing a certain gentleman. He would have liked to speak to her and discover her feelings on the matter, but he had given his word and was therefore honor bound to keep his silence, which did not improve his own mood. After dinner, he and his father withdrew to the billiard room to play for an hour or so, joining the ladies in time to drink a dish of tea with them. He reminded Hester that they were to ride in the morning, smiled, and said goodnight to her, leaving her to go up to her room feeling more uncertain than ever. She could not but be aware of a change in his manner and, remembering that he had been speaking to Richard Mortimer alone, her fears of betrayal made for a sleepless night. However, in the morning, he was everything that she could wish for in a perfect host, helping her to mount and making sure that she was comfortable before they set out. Once they began to ride, it was as if all constraints had fallen away, and they galloped side by side,

laughing at each other in shared pleasure. Paul glanced at her, seeing the pleasure in her face, knowing that like him she would have liked their ride to go on much longer, but also that he had to get her home. When he helped her down, he looked into her eyes and thought he could see his own longing reflected there. “Thank you for a lovely ride,” she said. “You do not know how happy you have made me these past few days. Riding is such a privilege for me and I have loved it so.” “You speak as thought you think it may end,” Paul said, frowning. “I thought you knew that I wish only to please you, Hester?” “You are very kind . . . I hope that we shall . . .” She broke off as a carriage arrived. “Oh, I must go . . .” Paul let her go with a smothered curse. He had been a damned fool to give his word to Mortimer—after all, everything was fair in love and war, and he was damned if he was going to lose her to a man who was not exactly honorable, even though he had helped to save Hester. Yet, it seemed that he had lost his opportunity for the moment, because a lady had descended from the carriage and he knew at once that things would not be quite the same. Her voice rose on a whining note almost at once, and he saw Hester’s face change color, understanding without being told that she was already receiving a lecture for something that was not her fault. It made him angry, and he wanted to rush to Hester’s aid but knew that as yet he did not have the right. “Good morning, Mrs. Weston,” Paul said extending his hand to her. “I am very glad to make your acquaintance.” “And I yours, sir—or perhaps I should say Lord Crawford?” “As you wish, Mrs. Weston, though I am usually known as Captain Crawford, or Paul to my friends.” He gave her a smile he hoped would melt her heart towards him. “And now I am sure you must be tired—perhaps you would like to come in and meet my mother, who will be happy to see you in our home and will, I am sure, make you comfortable?” “How could I fail to be comfortable in such a house as this? As I was telling Hester, it has been a terrible journey, and I feel as if I have been shaken to bits. I fear that one of my headaches is coming on.” “Then you must ask my mother to order you a tisane for our housekeeper makes the most marvellous cures, as I am certain Mama will tell you. Let me take you to her now.” Paul offered his arm, which she took with every sign of pleasure, glancing over her shoulder at Hester. “I see you have been riding, Hester. I dare say it is the reason you are looking so much better. That awful pallor has gone.” Paul resisted the temptation to jump to Hester’s defence though he sent her a look of indignation. Accompany the others into the house, she was met by her hostess who beamed at them all and swept Mrs. Weston into a perfumed embrace. “How lovely that you could come,” she said. “I have been looking forward to meeting you so much, my dear Araminta. I hope I may call you that for we were once friends I believe—though a long time ago. If you recall, we met at Lady Hereford’s ball before my engagement party. And then I was whisked off to the country, and you married Mr. Weston and somehow we have not met since then—which is a great shame, but something that shall be instantly repaired. Come up to my private sitting room, and we shall have a lovely gossip—unless you would prefer to rest after your terrible ordeal. I always find travelling so exhausting, do you not agree?”

Hester watched as her mother was whisked off upstairs without a murmur of protest. “I must go and change,” Hester said turning to Paul, who had lingered in the hall admiring his mother’s technique. He had seen difficult guests become kittens under his mother’s wing before this but it never ceased to amuse him for she had them eating out of her hand in no time. “Thank you for being kind to Mama. She does suffer a little with her headaches.” “It was my pleasure,” Paul said. “It is Geraldine’s dance tomorrow. I believe that Richard Mortimer may return in time to attend. “Oh . . . . well, if you invited him I suppose . . .” Hester hesitated. She looked at him oddly before running up the stairs. Paul watched her go, suppressing the desire to call her back and tell her that he wanted her to marry him very soon. There was only one more day to wait and then he could speak and retain his honor. **** Alone in her room, Hester was allowed time enough to change into a fresh gown and tidy herself before a maid arrived to summon her. She was requested to attend on her mother, which she did immediately. Mrs. Weston was scolding a maid who could not find something, but she stopped as soon as her daughter walked in and shooed the maid away. “You may come back in twenty minutes, girl. I wish to speak to my daughter.” Hester braced herself for she was very afraid that she would be in trouble once they were alone. She waited for the tirade to begin and was surprised that her mother stared at her thoughtfully for a moment. “Well, Hester,” she said at last. “What have you to tell me?” “I have had a lovely time with Charlotte,” Hester replied. “Tomorrow we attend Geraldine’s dance. It is her birthday, and she is to be engaged to the man she loves.” “Yes, well, it is good that you have made friends with the gel. She is Lord Crawford’s cousin, and it will be pleasant for you to have an acquaintance in town when you marry.” “What are you saying, Mama?” Hester’s heart caught with fright. “Captain Crawford has not yet asked me to marry him. I do not think we should assume that he will do so.” “Rubbish!” her mother said in a chiding tone. “It is just like you, Hester, to see the worst in every situation. Lady Longstanton is convinced that it is only a matter of time before her son takes a wife, and she likes you very much.” “But, Mama, you know that Papa said I was never to marry.” “Your father is dead, Hester. I always thought him too harsh over that . . . business. I think we should put the past behind us and forget it ever happened. Only a few of us ever knew the truth after all. Your great-aunt and your father are dead, and neither Charlotte nor I will betray you. Dear Robert knew only that you were in disgrace—so there is no one to betray you.” Hester did not correct her as she had Charlotte, for she did not want to quarrel the moment her mother was in the house. It would make no difference to the outcome, for nothing would persuade her to deceive Captain Crawford. “So, you have no objection to my marrying?” “Of course not, you silly girl,” Mrs. Weston gave her a smile that was almost affectionate. “It is a wonderful match for you—for the whole family. Your brother is in debt, and I think Captain Crawford might be willing to give him a helping hand . . .” “Oh, Mama!” Hester said. “You must not ask him!” It was enough that she would ask him to forgive her shame, to ask for money as well was too much.

“Do not be selfish, Hester. You will be wealthy and should not begrudge your brother a small sum. Besides, such arrangements are made all the time. I am sure Captain Crawford can well afford to give your brother something.” Hester looked at her, feeling acutely unhappy. How could her mother be thinking of such a thing when Captain Crawford had not even asked her to marry him as yet? It was so embarrassing, so shaming. “You will say nothing until he has spoken?” “Of course not. Naturally, I shall make Robert’s problem known to him when I have the opportunity. I dare say it will not be necessary to ask outright for he is clearly a generous man, and I am sure he would want his future brother-in-law to be comfortably settled.” Hester cringed. She had always known that her mother was ruthless in the matter of emotional blackmail, but she had not minded for herself. She was horrified at her mother’s words and wished that her mother had never come to Longstanton Hall, but she was here, and Hester was powerless to stop her making hints. Perhaps the result would be that Paul would decide he did not want to be connected with her family and let the visit pass without making her an offer.

Chapter Eight Hester was able to escape her mother’s scolding when they went downstairs to join Charlotte and Lady Longstanton in her favorite parlor. For the rest of that day and the evening, she was allowed a respite from her mother’s tongue and was smiled upon when Paul took her into the orangery for a little stroll that evening. However, the next morning Mrs. Weston came to her room as she was dressing. “I trust you slept well, Hester?” she asked, giving her a most particular look. “Have you anything to tell me?” “No, Mama. Except that I thought I would wear the pale green silk this evening. My maid has hung it out for me. I hope you think it a good choice?” “Really, Hester, you can be so very annoying. You know very well what I meant. Did Captain Crawford speak to you when you were in the orangery last evening?” “We talked of many things—but he did not ask me to marry him, if that is what you mean?” “You are a foolish girl!” her mother said crossly. “Could you not have brought him to the point, given him a few hints or something? When I was young, the gels wore tight corsets, and it was easy enough to faint into a gentleman’s arms. I think that usually works.” “I would not dream of pretending to faint,” Hester said, her cheeks pink. “I am sure that if Captain Crawford wishes to speak with me, he will do so when he is ready.” “You throw away your chance at your peril,” her mother warned, a note of malice in her voice. “After what you have done to me—to our family—you should be grateful that I gave you this chance. If you let me down, you will never be given another.” Hester felt the sting of tears but refused to give into her emotions. Her mother was only saying what she had expected her to say, and she was fortunate to have been given this chance of happiness. “Thank you, Mama, you are very kind,” she said with a quiet dignity and wondered at the look of guilt or grief on her mother's face before she turned away. “I wish that I might oblige you.” Hester’s words were no more than a whisper, but they were echoed in her heart a thousandfold. No one would ever know how much she wished that she might be Paul’s wife. However, she hid her fears as she went down to join the other ladies. There was to be no riding for Hester that morning, because they had planned a quiet day in order to be fresh for the ball that evening. They left midway through the afternoon, arriving at Holbeach Hall at a little after three to take tea with Geraldine, her mother and Lucinda, who had arrived earlier that day. After greetings had been exchanged and Hester’s well-being assured, she gave Geraldine the present she had bought for her and was thanked by a starry-eyed girl who was so excited that she scarcely knew how to contain herself. “I have had so many lovely presents that I feel overwhelmed,” she told Hester. “They have been arriving for days, and I opened them all this morning. Thomas bought me a pretty evening purse, and of course, I shall have my ring this evening.” Her father had given her a magnificent pearl necklace that could be worn in several different ways and had a diamond clasp, and several aunts had given her either jewellery or money. Her sisters and brothers had all put together to buy her a new horse. She was a very fortunate, privileged girl, and she knew it. “And the villagers of March Mallow have sent me a leather saddle for my horse.” “Well, it is your birthday and your engagement party,” Hester said. “I am thrilled for you, dearest, and I wish you every happiness in the future.”

“Dearest Hester, you have become as a sister to me,” Geraldine said. “Yes, of course. I hope we shall always be friends.” “I was so worried about you until I heard that Paul had brought you back to us,” Geraldine said. She looked a little odd. “Was it not strange that Viscount Mortimer happened to be nearby—and that he did so much to help you?” “It was very good of him,” Hester said. “I do not know why he happened to be on your father’s land—unless he was planning to visit you.” “He must surely know that I am to be engaged,” Geraldine said her brow creasing in thought. “I wondered if perhaps it might be interest in you?” “I cannot imagine that likely,” Hester said. “Richard Mortimer must marry an heiress I imagine, and I am hardly that.” “But . . . .” Geraldine paused for thought. “Oh, well, it was just a thought. Did you know that the viscount will be attending this evening? Paul invited him as his guest, and of course, Mama agreed. She can never refuse Paul anything, for he has been so good to us.” “I understand Henry Blackwater and his aunt will also be attending?” “Yes. I hope that will not be uncomfortable for you, Hester? The invitation was given in Bath before . . . and could not be rescinded.” “No, of course not,” Hester assured her. “I shall be no different in my manner towards him than I was before he offered for me.” It was not the fact that she had turned down his proposal that was worrying her, but the dark suspicion that still hovered at the back of her mind. She could not be certain that he was the one who had ordered Geraldine’s abduction, but she was almost certain she had heard him speaking to the man called John. And in her heart, she believed that her escape had been easy because he wanted her to get away without realising that he was the culprit. She had always believed that Henry Blackwater cared for her, and she thought that he had not been able to bring himself to order her death, which he might have had to, if she had not found a way to escape. For reasons of his own, he wished Paul dead—but not Hester. It would not be easy to greet him with her usual calm friendliness but she must do so. If he guessed that she suspected him, he might become more ruthless than he already was. Whatever happened that evening, she would be watching what he did, because she was afraid that he might take the chance to kill Paul if he could find a way of getting him alone. After tea, the ladies went upstairs to rest until it was time to change for the evening. Hester did not lie down, though she was sharing a room with another two girls, who were each using one of the three single beds that had been set up for their use. All the guestrooms were being shared by ladies, some of whom had travelled a short distance for the ball, though some had come farther and were to stay a few days. Hester was not tired. She would have preferred to go down and walk in the gardens, but knew that it would cause bother for the servants who were all too busy to keep an eye on her. She sat on the window seat and looked down as guests continued to arrive. When she saw Paul walking towards the rose arbor, she was tempted to go down and join him but resisted. The time passed slowly, but then the maids came to help the girls dress, and small tokens of flowers were sent up so that they might choose which ones they would carry. Hester received three. One of pink roses tied with pale green ribbons, one of red roses tied with white ribbons, and one of roses and camellias tied with blue ribbons. The roses tied with green ribbons came from Paul, and since the ribbons matched her gown, she guessed that he had known what she was wearing. The other two tokens carried no messages, and she left

them to the maid to place in water. She would not carry them, but they were too lovely to throw away. When she and the other girls went downstairs, the guests were arriving en force, and Lady Holbeach was standing with Geraldine to greet them. The girls stood in line until they were formally greeted and then moved through to the reception rooms. They had all eaten a good tea for there would be no formal dinner that evening, though a sumptuous buffet supper would be served later. The dancing was about to begin, though for the moment guests were still mingling, greeting each other with cries of pleasure and exclaiming over the gowns and jewellery that they had acquired since last meeting. Hester saw her mother and Charlotte standing together with some other ladies and moved towards the small group, her cheeks a little warm as she saw that Lady Blackwater was with them. The older woman’s gaze was cold as they swept over her, and Hester knew that she had not been forgiven for refusing her nephew’s offer of marriage. Hester greeted all the ladies, dipping into a graceful curtsey. She was smiled upon by most of the ladies, who all thought her both modest and charming, but Lady Blackwater’s eyes remained cool, even though she extended the tips of her fingers. “So, Miss Weston, it would appear that you have found yourself a nice little niche here, though perhaps you do not deserve it.” Hester’s cheeks flushed, for she knew what the lady meant, but she saw a flash of alarm in her mother’s eyes as she bristled in defence of her daughter. “I am not sure what you mean by that, madam?” “It does not matter, Mama.” “Indeed it does if it is a slight upon your character.” “Miss Weston knows well enough what I meant,” Lady Blackwater said and walked off, clearly in high dudgeon. “Hester, a word.” Mrs. Weston drew her daughter to a sheltered spot near a large green plant by the open window. “What does that woman know? Tell me at once?” “It is not what you fear, Mama,” Hester said in a low voice. “Her nephew made me an offer of marriage, which I refused, and she is not best pleased with me.” Mrs. Weston’s gaze narrowed. “I cannot say that I am pleased with you either, Hester. Why was I not told of this?” “Because I refused him.” “And why did you do that?” “Because I could not tell him my secret, and I did not love him.” “Ridiculous girl! As if it is necessary to reveal that shameful secret. I hope you will not be as foolish next time. You know what will happen if you let me down.” “Yes, Mama,” Hester replied, holding back the emotion that threatened to make her weep. “Please, excuse me now. I believe Geraldine has been released and looks for me.” **** As Mrs. Weston returned to where Charlotte was standing, talking and laughing, she was unaware that a man had come in from the terrace where he had gone to smoke a cigar and to take the air. His eyes were thoughtful for he had heard every word of the conversation between Mrs Weston and her daughter, and he believed that he might find a way to use it in his efforts to destroy the man he hated.

Captain Crawford had been a thorn in his side for long enough. He had tried to ruin him with those faulty cannon, for having ordered them for the army Crawford ought to have been held responsible. However, he had cleared his name because of his prompt action in withdrawing the cannon and reimbursing the appropriate quarters for the money lost. Blackwater’s hate was such that he preferred his enemy should be maimed before he tasted death. It would be better if he could be made to suffer some hurt . . . a little smile touched his mouth as he realized that the perfect plan was unfolding without his having to do very much. Except to discover Hester Weston’s secret. Her mother had called it shameful—and for a young girl, that could only mean one thing. For a moment, he knew a qualm as he realized that his plan would also ruin her. Yet, in another, he hardened his heart against her. She had turned him down, and now the gossips had it that she would marry Crawford. Well, if he put himself to a little trouble, he might find a way of taking revenge upon the pair of them. **** Hester was stopped as she approached her cousin. Mr. Beaumont was the first of many young men that evening to secure a dance with her. Having met and liked him in Bath, Hester was happy to grant the two dances he requested, and he was soon followed by others just as eager to be her partner. By the time Paul came to ask for a dance, she had only the two she had reserved for him left on her card, and one other she had left blank so that she might slip away to refresh herself if need be. Paul wrote his name in the two spaces she had indicated, retiring a little ruefully as the music began and her first partner came to claim her. At least the dance before supper was his and that meant that he would be able to take her in, but it did not look as if he would have much time alone with her that evening. He glanced around the room but as yet could see no sign of Richard Mortimer. Damn the man! If he did not show this evening, Paul would consider his bargain fulfilled. He was not going to waste another day waiting for him to turn up. He would ask Hester to marry him this evening, and they would announce their engagement the next day—if she said yes, of course. “Good evening, Crawford.” Hearing the voice behind him, Paul turned to look at the gentleman who had come up on him and frowned slightly. It had seemed unlikely that Blackwater was his enemy when Hester said she thought it had been he speaking of arranging Paul’s death, but since then he had begun to wonder. If Blackwater was his enemy, he must have done something to arouse his hatred—but what? Paul vaguely remembered that they had both wanted the same mistress once. He thought they had rolled the dice and that he had won, but surely that was not enough to make a man try to ruin him, and then to kill him? Had he done anything else that might have made Blackwater his enemy? If so then he could not recall it. “Good evening, Blackwater. I must tell you that my head groom has succeeded in taming your rogue of a horse. Apparently, the shoes were wrong—a small thing, but he had a festering sore on his right fore foot and that was the reason for his ill temper. I think I may race him at Newmarket next season.” “Rather you than me,” Blackwater said. “I am glad to be shot of the brute.”

“Well, each to his own,” Paul said, suddenly remembering an incident that had happened some years ago when they were both campaigning on the peninsular with Old Hookey. “I recall that you always had some trouble with horses.” Paul had beaten him twice in races that the army had run for the officers, and, if he remembered rightly, he had also worsted him in a fistfight. It had been under army rules, which meant that they fought with bare knuckles until the last man was standing. Blackwater had gone down in the tenth round and stayed down. He had refused to shake hands and had left the army a few weeks later. He could not recall why they had quarrelled. It could not have been anything serious after all, for it had been settled in a gentlemanly way. Surely, Blackwater could not be harboring a grudge for such petty incidents? Paul was so stunned that he could hardly believe he had stumbled on the truth. It seemed inconceivable that a man could go to such lengths simply to repay a grudge. Indeed, he was sure that he must be wrong, and yet there was something in Blackwater’s eyes at that moment which made him wonder. “I wish you joy of your bargain,” Blackwater said, his gaze narrowing, “and if what I hear is true, your coming marriage. I think you will find that both are bitter at the heart.” Paul stared after him in disbelief. Had he not been at his cousin’s engagement ball he would have followed the man and had it out with him. Was his remark merely sour grapes because Hester had turned him down—or was there something more behind that cryptic remark? If he was threatening Hester . . . Rage mounted in Paul’s head as he struggled to control the urge to make Blackwater spit out his venom in plain words. It would not do. This was not the time or the place. He must wait in patience, but as soon as he had spoken to Hester, he would make Blackwater his next priority. **** Hester was beginning to enjoy herself. She had made more friends in Bath than she had realized, and found that ladies who had merely nodded their heads and given her a formal greeting in the past were hailing her warmly. She was becoming aware that people were looking at her in a knowing way, and she saw her mother looking pleased as she gossiped with some of the other matrons. It was obvious that people were expecting Captain Crawford to speak and soon. When he came to claim her for their dance, he was smiling, his hands light about her waist as he swept her into the throng of dancers. “I had hoped that we might have more dances, Hester,” he told her. “But I was delayed, and you are very popular—which is not surprising since you look beautiful this evening.” “You flatter me, sir.” “No, I simply tell you what I see,” Paul said. “Have you seen anything of Viscount Mortimer?” “I do not think he has come,” Hester said. “At least, I have not seen him yet. Perhaps he was detained in London?” “Yes, perhaps, though I believe he meant to come if he could.” “Well, I dare say he may arrive later if he can,” Hester said as a way of dismissing a subject that was not one she truly wished to discuss. “Yes, perhaps,” Paul replied. “We shall not be able to be private this evening I fear—but perhaps I may take you riding in the morning. Unless you will be too tired?”

“Not at all,” she replied, her heart beating faster. “I should like that above all things. You must know that I love to ride with you.” “Is that all you love, Hester?” “I am not sure what you mean?” “Are you not? I had thought my meaning must be plain, but perhaps there is someone else you think of more warmly?” “No, indeed not! Who else should there be? I promise you there is not,” Hester said before she could stop herself. “You know I . . . like you very well, Captain Crawford.” “Good.” He smiled down at her, making her heart race. At that moment she wished she were a million miles away from this place and that she could simply melt into his arms and let him love her. “Because I like you very much, my dearest Hester. I may not say more yet, but tomorrow I shall have much to say to you.” **** Hester smiled and looked up at him. All her feelings were revealed to him in that moment, and he knew that he had not been mistaken in her, but she was afraid of something. Was it her mother? He did not believe that Mrs. Weston would put a stop in their way, and yet, he sensed that Hester was anxious about something. He wanted to whisk her away somewhere quiet, but their dance was ending, and it would cause too much of a stir if he took her away before her next partner could claim her. “Thank you,” she said as he led her from the floor as the music died. “I have much to say to you, Captain Crawford. You may not be pleased with what I must say to you, but I beg you will hear me out first.” “Hester . . .” he said urgently. “I must go. My next partner comes. I shall not speak until tomorrow, for we must do nothing that might spoil Geraldine’s pleasure in the evening.” Her words sent a chill through him. What could she mean? Was she going to tell him that she would not marry him? His mind told him to be prepared for it, though his heart answered that she was his. He was on fire with impatience for the morning and left the ballroom to seek some air. He would take a walk and hope that the air would relieve his sense of frustration. He should never have given his word to Mortimer! It was a stupid thing to do. If he had spoken, Hester might have been wearing his ring on her finger by now. **** As Paul left the ballroom another gentleman entered. He looked around for Crawford and could not see him, but he saw Hester at once. She was laughing up at her partner and was looking so lovely that his heart caught, and he realized that for the first time in his life he had fallen in love. He wanted to make love to her, but more than that, he wanted her as his wife. He wondered if Crawford had kept his word to hold back until he returned. In his shoes, he would have taken every advantage he could and she would be wearing his ring, but as Hester waltzed past, he saw that she was not wearing a ring. What a fool Crawford was not to have secured her while he could. Richard smiled as he cut his way through the throng of dancers and tapped the young man on the shoulder. “My dance I think, Preston.” “B-but . . .” the young man stammered as he was relieved of his partner. “I am sure it was my dance . . .”

Richard ignored him as he whirled Hester about the floor. One talent he had always possessed was cutting out the other men and making his partner accept the change by the quality of his dancing. He was an excellent dancer, much lighter and more skilled than the young pup he had cut out who had already stepped on Hester’s toes once. **** “That was wicked of you,” Hester said, but found she could not be as angry as she ought with him. “Mr. Preston was enjoying his dance.” “But you were not, I think?” Richard’s brows lifted as she refused to answer. “No, I thought not. Will you not thank me for rescuing you from his clumsy attempts, Hester?” “No, I shall not,” she replied. “You should not have done it. People are staring at us. They will talk . . .” “Let them,” he said. “I can do nothing to harm your reputation, for we are under your mama’s gaze as well as a dozen other matrons.” “You might do everything to ruin it if you wished.” “You do not think I would?” He lowered his voice. “I know I threatened some such thing but that was before . . .” He shook his head as she would have spoken. “I know that you have good cause to hate me, Hester—but I have something to tell you that may earn me your forgiveness.” “Oh . . .” Hester looked up at him. “What might that be, sir?” “Come out to the terrace with me, and I shall tell you.” “No, that I shall not. It would be noticed.” “Let them stare,” he said. “We shall go no further than the terrace, and you may tell your mama that you had the headache and needed some air if you wish.” Against her better judgement, Hester let him lead her out to the terrace. It was true that the air was pleasantly cool, and she felt better for it because the rooms had been stuffy, but she was not prepared to stay here long with him. “Very well, tell me what you have to say. If you mean to blackmail me, I must . . .” Richard shook his head, putting his fingers to her lips. “I know what happened to you after I left you that day, Hester.” She felt a shiver of alarm. “How can you? My mother would not tell you nor would Charlotte.” “I have made friends with your brother. I saved him from the toils of a card sharp when I was in London, and he told me some of it. I took a detour on my way here to discover the rest.” He paused, giving her a significant look. “It seems that we may have more in common than you might think.” “I fear I do not understand you.” “You had a child, did you not? My child—and that child still lives. Her name is Sylvia, and she is so like you that there could be no mistake.” “No!” Hester clutched at herself as the shock brought her close to fainting. “That isn’t possible. She died. . . . My mother told me she was stillborn.” “And that is a shameful thing to do to your own daughter,” Richard said looking angry. “I know how you must have suffered, my dearest Hester. Your brother told me that your father was cruel to you and that your mother blamed you for all the ills that have befallen your family—but to tell you that the child was dead was wicked.” “You have seen her—actually seen her?” Hester clutched at his arm in her distress. She was shaking from head to toe, and she felt ill. How could her mother have done such a thing

to her? To tell her that the child was dead when she knew that Hester would have loved it, but of course, they had been ashamed of her and the child. She had been allowed home because Charlotte had fought for her, but the baby . . . “Yes, I have seen her. She is being well cared for, though I am not sure she is happy. She is intelligent, and they have not taught her to read.” “Oh, my poor darling,” Hester said, and tears welled up in her eyes. She could not prevent them from spilling over and was forced to accept the handkerchief he offered to wipe them away. “That is so unfair—so unfair to her.” “To you both,” Richard said. “Listen to me, Hester. I care for you deeply. I believe I always did, but I was too young and arrogant to know it. I thought I could do what I wanted and take what I liked—and I wanted you. That afternoon . . . I never meant to do that to you, please believe me. And afterward, I might have made things right. I might have married you, but I couldn’t. I was already in trouble with my father. He had told me he was sending me abroad and would give me an allowance only for as long as I stayed on our cousins’ plantation. That lasted a couple of months. I shall not trouble you by telling you why, except that what happened there sickened me. I went to Europe, and I spent the next few years travelling, earning my bread as best I could—but I never quite forgot you.” “You would have married Geraldine if she would have taken you.” “I needed money. I still need money—but now that my Grandfather is dead, I shall sell the estate. I dare say I shall have enough left to live well abroad. Come with me, Hester. We can take our child and leave before anyone knows what we are about. We can marry in France and travel on to Italy as man and wife.” “No, Richard,” Hester said. “I cannot do that—I do not love you. Once you meant everything in the world to me, but now . . .” “There is someone else?” “Yes. I am not sure if he will still want me once he knows the truth, but . . .” Hester faltered. “Forgive me if I hurt you, Richard. I would not do so for the world, for I have forgiven you. You helped to save my life, and I am grateful.” “I do not want gratitude,” Richard said harshly, and for a moment the dark side rose up in him and he grabbed her by the arms, shaking her. “You are mine. You owe it to me to come—and to our child also.” “I cannot,” Hester whispered, her face white. “What you are offering . . . Yes, I would take it if I did not love him, but I do. I must tell Paul the truth. I must . . .” “He will turn from you if you do,” Richard warned. “Tell him if you must, but remember my offer. I do not withdraw it, Hester. When Crawford tells you that he cannot marry you in the circumstances, I shall be waiting.” He turned and walked away, leaving Hester to weep on in the darkness. She was still there some minutes later when Paul came to find her. “What is wrong, my darling?” he asked, and the softness in his voice made her sob with regret. She lifted her face and he wiped the tears from her cheek with his fingers, smiling down at her. “Has your mother upset you?” “It is much, much worse,” Hester said in a whispery voice. “I must tell you something, Paul. It cannot wait until tomorrow. Please, is there somewhere we may go?” “Yes, of course, my dearest. We can be alone in the summerhouse.” ****

He took her by the hand, leading her across the lawn to the little folly in the shape of a Chinese pagoda. Once there, she moved away from him, standing with her back towards him as she fought for calm. “Before you came, I received an offer of marriage from Richard Mortimer.” “Did he upset you?” Paul asked feeling angry, his hands clenching at his sides. “Yes, but not in the way you think. He cares for me—and he did something for me. He discovered something that I had been lied to about for years. He discovered that the child I gave birth to when I was barely eighteen is alive and was not stillborn as I had been told by my father and mother.” She gave a little sob as she turned to see the stunned expression on Paul’s face. “Richard was the father of my child, though I have never told anyone else but you. He wants to sell his estate now that his grandfather is dead, and then take the child and me abroad. He said we would be married and . . . but I refused him.” “You did not wish to marry him—even though he told you that your child was alive and that he would claim it for you?” “I would like to have my child. Perhaps I shall find a way of doing so now that I know she is alive. I would have kept her when she was born if I had not believed . . .” Her voice broke on a sob. “I know you must be disgusted, Captain Crawford. You thought me something I am not and I have disappointed you.” “Yes, I suppose I am a little disappointed,” Paul replied slowly, and then wished he had cut his tongue out first as he saw her face go even paler than before. “But I do not censure you, Hester. It is just that I am surprised . . .” Stunned would have been a better word for he had not considered that she had a secret of such proportions in her past. “However, I believe that it will make no difference to my feelings for you once I have had time to adjust and—” “Please, do not, I cannot bear it. I had always meant to tell you my secret if . . . you asked, but after Richard told me I could not bear it a moment longer. I know you cannot wish to marry me now. My father made it quite clear to me before he died.” “What did he say to you, Hester?” Paul saw the anguish in her face and wished that he could hurt the man as he had hurt his daughter. No wonder she had shied away every time he had tried to speak to her! “Father told me that no decent man would want to wed me once he knew my shame,” Hester said. “And I know that I did something terrible, but I was very young and I did not . . . it does not excuse me. I understand that and it pains me that I must disappoint you, Paul.” “You would have disappointed me more had you let me marry you and then told me,” Paul said, and then as she gave a sob and tried to run past him, he caught her wrist. “No, you shall not run away until we have finished this, Hester. I will admit that I am surprised and, in truth, disappointed that I shall not be the first with you—but that is a man’s foolish pride and something I shall put aside. This secret you call shameful does not alter my feelings for you. I love you, Hester, and I still wish to marry you.” “But you cannot, you cannot,” she whispered brokenly. “I am not worthy of you, Paul. Supposing someone learned of my shame . . .” Paul pulled her hard against him. His mouth covered hers in a hungry passionate kiss that silenced her. She tried to move away, but he held her, imprisoning her, kissing her until she lost the will to resist and could only stay quietly in his arms, her head against his chest. “I love you, and I want you—more than I have ever wanted a woman in my life,” Paul said hoarsely. “We shall be married, Hester—and if anyone tries to bring shame on you, they will answer to me.” “Oh, Paul,” Hester wept. “You cannot . . . surely you cannot love me now?”

“I love you for your sweetness, your goodness, and your honesty,” Paul said. “You were an innocent. Mortimer was a man and therefore responsible. If I did not believe that he will suffer enough seeing you as the wife of another man, I would thrash him to an inch of his life—but it is best to put the past behind us and go forward.” She stood meekly as he wiped the tears from her face. He smoothed his thumb over the lips he had kissed so thoroughly, bringing forth a little sigh. “And can you forgive me for disappointing you?” “Yes, of course,” he said though he was still frowning. “You expressed a wish to have your daughter with you, and I can understand your wish—but you must give me time to get used to the idea, Hester. I am not saying that it is wrong, only that we must think about it carefully. I do not wish you to be shunned by society. I shall find a way, but you must leave it to me.” “Yes, of course.” She smiled up at him mistily. He had forgiven her and though it would take him some time to forget that she had done something that most men would think unforgivable, he would still marry her. “I am sorry, Paul. I have wished a thousand times that it was otherwise, that I could go back and things would be different.” “We cannot change the past,” he said. “And now we shall go and find your mother and cousin and tell them the good news.” “Are you certain?” she asked, still unable to believe that he would accept her despite her shame. “I have always been certain, and nothing you have told me changes that.” He took hold of her hand firmly and led her back across the lawn towards the house. **** In the darkness, Henry Blackwater stood smoking his cigar and smiling. His instincts had served him well when he followed Hester and Crawford to the summerhouse. He had learned her secret much sooner than he had expected, and it was all that he could hope for and more. She had given birth to a child and that child still lived—and she wanted her daughter. As Crawford’s wife, she would hardly be granted that privilege, for the gallant captain would not want it known that his lovely wife had been Mortimer’s whore. The possibilities were endless. It was just a question of waiting for the wedding and then choosing his moment.

Chapter Nine “Hester! You look disgraceful—have you been crying?” Mrs. Weston pounced on her daughter as soon as they entered the ballroom. “My dear lady,” Paul intervened immediately. “You must not scold, Hester. I dragged her away with me, and she has done me the honor of consenting to be my wife. I believe you must forgive a few tears in the circumstances?” “Oh . . . Yes, of course,” Mrs. Weston said. He had taken the wind from her sails and, as she looked at his face and saw his stern expression, she knew that she must watch her tongue in future, especially if he were present. “Well, in the circumstances . . . congratulations, Hester. You are a very fortunate young lady.” “Yes, Mama, I know.” Hester lifted her head as she gathered her pride. “I think I must go to the rest room and repair the damage to my appearance.” “I shall come with you,” Mrs Weston said at once but was delayed by the touch of a firm hand on her arm. “Unless Paul wishes to speak with me?” “I think we may be private in my uncle’s library, ma’am. I shall naturally call on Mr. Robert Weston to arrange the formal contracts—but if I may just have a few words with you?” Hester cast him a grateful glance as she went away to wash her face and tidy her gown. In the rest room provided for the ladies, she met Charlotte and confided her news to her with a shy smile. “It is just as I thought it would be, my dearest cousin,” Charlotte said and embraced her warmly. “Captain Crawford is a good man, and I am sure you will be happy with him.” “Yes . . .” Hester smiled. She was very happy that Paul had forgiven her, though there was a tiny pinprick of hurt inside her for she knew that she had disappointed him. There was also another ache buried deeper inside her concerning the child she had believed dead. It was painful to think of her daughter growing up bereft of even the poorest education and a mother’s love. Richard had said she was well cared for in a physical sense, but Hester knew what it was like to feel unloved, and she grieved for her daughter’s lack. Somehow, she must do something for her, even if Paul would not allow her to have the child. “Yes, I am happy, Charlotte.” “Then I am content,” Charlotte said looking very pleased with herself. “It is all that I could wish for you, my love.” Returning to the ballroom, Hester was immediately joined by Geraldine, Lucinda, and their partners, all of whom hugged and kissed her with real affection, welcoming her to their midst. “Now you will truly be one of us,” Lucinda said and laughed up at Josh. “I won my bet! I said that Captain Crawford would propose tonight, and Josh said he would wait for a few days yet.” Hester smiled, for it seemed that her friends had been more confident than she, but their smiles and their teasing warmed her. “You will be going to London for your bride clothes and so shall I,” Geraldine said. “We must arrange to go at the same time, dearest Hester, and then we shall have more fun that way. We can shop and go to social events together—oh, it will be so exciting! I was looking forward to it anyway, but now it will be even better.” “And you must come to our wedding,” Lucinda said. “Paul has an invitation, and you are invited as his fiancée of course.”

Surrounded by her friends until they all began dancing once more, Hester hardly had time to think about what had happened to her, but the moment of facing her mother’s questions could not be put off indefinitely. They began in the carriage, though it was not until Mrs. Weston followed her daughter into her bedchamber that they were alone. “Well, Hester, you have done better than I had hoped,” Mrs Weston said with a satisfied smile. “Captain Crawford is prepared to help your brother improve his estate to the tune of some ten thousand pounds, which will be in the form of labour, materials, and structural improvements to the house.” “Oh, Mama, how could you?” Hester asked, appalled. “I did not say a word,” Mrs. Weston said, clearly elated. “The suggestion came entirely from Paul—wasn’t that good of him?” “Yes, of course.” And wise since a capital sum would almost certainly have gone the same way as the money Robert had already lost at the gambling tables. Yet, Hester suspected that her mother had previously dropped hints that Paul could not fail to appreciate. He had known that the best way to win her approval was to do something substantial for her son. “Well, you might look pleased,” Mrs. Weston said. “It will not affect your settlement, though I have not been told the details. Paul will speak to Robert on the matter, for he is the proper person to deal with the marriage contracts.” “I had not even thought of a settlement,” Hester replied quietly, though of course she knew that it was normal practice for these things to be arranged. “Mother, there is something I must ask you.” Was that a guilty flush in her cheeks? Hester saw that her mother could not meet her eyes and guessed that Paul must have said something to her. “I am rather tired, Hester. Could this not wait until the morning?” “I would rather speak of it now,” Hester said, and there was a new tone of authority in her voice. “I have learned that my daughter did not die at birth as you and father told me.” “Oh, do not look at me like that,” Mrs. Weston wailed, unable to meet her daughter’s accusing eyes. “I knew that you would blame me if you ever discovered the truth. It is a terrible burden to have carried all these years, Hester. Your father made me do it. I did not want the child to be given away—she was a pretty little thing, very like you as a baby—but your father was adamant.” “Could you not have told me later—after he died?” “You would have wanted to find the child, and I couldn’t face all the scandal, Hester. It was a long time, and I did not know if she still lived. So many children die in their formative years . . .” “I think it was very unkind in you, Mother,” Hester said a touch of anger in her tone. “It broke my heart over the baby. You know it did. Why did you let him do that to me?” “He was so angry, Hester. I had always been a little afraid of him. Mr. Weston was such a stern man, and . . . sometimes I wished that I had not married him. You cannot know the life I had with him. He could be violent as well as harsh.” “He was violent to you?” “Yes, on several occasions, especially after . . .” A tear trickled from the corner of her eye. “My health deteriorated after one beating, and the doctor suspected him. He was warned, and after that, he did not come to my room. He never hit me again, and I believe he had a mistress. But he was still unkind, and I know that he was often cruel to you.” “He only beat me a few times,” Hester said. “I think because he knew that his taunts hurt me more than the cane. I did not know that he hurt you. Poor Mama. Do not cry. I see that it was not your fault, and I think we must forget that it happened.”

“Oh yes, that is much the best,” her mother said relieved. “I am glad we have had this talk, for it was such a dreadful secret and it has played on my mind all these years.” “Well, you need not think of it again. I know the truth—and somehow I mean to see my daughter.” “Hester! You cannot,” Mrs. Weston said in a horrified tone. “It would be the most shocking scandal if all this came out. You might be shunned by society . . . ostracized.” “But I cannot just give her up completely now that I know,” Hester said and there was a determined look in her face that her mother had never seen before. “Even if I may not have her to live with me, I must see her sometimes—and I must help her. Do you know that she cannot read or write? How can I allow my daughter to live like that, Mama?” “I . . . don’t know,” Mrs. Weston said and quailed before the look in Hester’s eyes. “I suppose you could not.” “I must speak to Paul about it,” Hester said. She saw the acceptance in her mother's eyes and knew that she had learned that Hester was no longer to be dominated. “But I am sure that he will agree that I should see her. He may even accompany me—though I do not know if he will allow me to have her with me.” “You must not ask it of him, Hester. It is enough that he has forgiven you and is prepared to wed you.” “Yes, I am aware that he has been generous in forgiving my shame,” Hester said. “Do not look so anxious, Mama. I love Paul with all my heart, and I shall do nothing to jeopardise my marriage, but I must and will see my daughter.” “Yes, I understand,” Mrs. Weston said. “If I had been in your place I might have felt the same, though Mr. Weston would not have married me and I would not have dared to tell him if I had a secret like yours.” Hester smiled at her mother. She could understand much that had been a source of hurt to her in the past, for she had wondered why her mother had been so unkind. “I hope that we shall understand each other better in the future, Mama.” “Yes, well, I hope so too,” Mrs. Weston said in a trembling voice. “And now I really must go to bed, Hester. I have a shocking headache.” “I am sorry, Mama. I should ask for a tisane if I were you.” “Yes, I shall. Lady Longstanton’s housekeeper makes a very restorative drink that eases my nerves. I must ask her for the recipe when I go home.” “You will come to London with me to buy my bride clothes?” “No, I do not think so, Hester. I think you would do better with your friends and Charlotte. I shall give you some money, though Charlotte has told me that she will give you another five hundred pounds. You will have sufficient for a trousseau that will not shame your new position.” “Thank you, Mama, you are very good,” Hester replied and, on impulse, leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. “Well, I have a little money of my own that my father left in trust for me, and I have not done much for you in the past, Hester.” Hester was thoughtful after her mother went out. She did not feel like retiring immediately, though she rang for her maid and allowed her to help with her clothes so that she could go to bed. Afterwards, she sat by the window brushing her hair and looking out at the night sky. She had wept so many bitter tears for the loss of the child she had carried inside her all those months. It was strange that she had never hated the tiny life within her, never resented the baby that had caused her trouble. The child could not be blamed for its existence. It had

been her own fault for allowing Richard Mortimer to kiss her. Had she refused him the first time, he would not have gone so much further than she had ever intended or imagined possible. And she understood now that he had had his own reasons for behaving as he had—and for leaving her to face the results of his passionate seduction alone. Hester felt as though a festering wound deep inside her had begun to heal. She could forgive Richard Mortimer for his betrayal as she had forgiven her mother. It would be harder to forgive the father who had been so cruel to her, but she had believed herself a wicked girl and longed for forgiveness from him. Suddenly, that need had gone. She did not need to be forgiven. She had sinned, but her father’s crimes of lying to her and of giving an innocent child away to strangers was far worse than anything she had done in her innocence. Hester went to bed at last feeling as if she had somehow shed a burden that had weighed her down for the past eight years. Paul loved her and though a slight shadow hung over their relationship, she could only hope that it would go away in time. **** “Oh, my dearest girl,” Lady Longstanton said as she hugged her son’s intended bride the next morning. “I am so happy that you have accepted Paul. I have been looking forward to this moment for so long.” “I am very happy that you are pleased,” Hester said. She wondered if he had told his mother the whole, but decided that it did not matter for the moment. “You have been so very kind to me, and I hope that we shall always get on well together.” “Oh, I have no doubt of it,” Lady Longstanton said. “You will stay with us often I hope, but Paul has his own estate so you must not think that we shall always be in each other’s pockets.” “I did not know that,” Hester said. “But I would not have minded living here with you.” “Now that is a compliment.” Her soon-to-be mother-in-law cried and laughed, dropping her handkerchief to the floor. “But you must be mistress in your own house, my dear. However, I want you and Mrs. Weston to come and stay after you have been to town to buy your clothes. I think the wedding should be here. Your mother is not strong, Hester dear. It would be too much for her to host a big wedding, and I adore the idea. I assure you, It will be no trouble for me.” Which was true enough, for there was an army of servants to carry out her slightest wish, though no doubt she would be in charge of the arrangements. “It is very kind of you,” Hester said a little smile on her lips for she knew the arrangement would please her mother who would thus be spared the expense and the work. “Is it to be a big wedding then?” “Oh, of course,” her hostess said, beaming at her. “Paul says he wants everyone here, and I am in complete accord. For a start, we have many relations, who would all be up in arms if they were not invited. Indeed, most of them would come anyway. And then we have masses of friends—and you will have people you want to invite, of course.” “Only a handful I think,” Hester said, “but I would not dream of offending any of your friends and most especially your relatives. I think I shall enjoy meeting them all.” “You will find them an odd bunch,” her hostess said with a twinkle in her eye that was very like one Hester had seen in Paul’s a few times. “However, they are good-natured and loveable, and I know they are going to adore you.” “I am sure I shall love them if they are like you,” Hester replied and was immediately enveloped in a perfumed hug once more.

“You are the dearest, sweetest, girl,” Lady Longstanton cried. “Oh, I am so happy that Paul found you. I was afraid that he never would be truly settled, and now he is, thanks to you.” “I have not seen him this morning,” Hester said. “I thought we were to go riding, but I received a note to say that he had postponed the date until another time.” “Yes, such a nuisance,” her hostess said and shook her head. “Paul had some business that came up suddenly and he was forced to leave. He told me that I was to look after you, and that I should tell you he would see you in London next week.” “Oh.” Hester had a sinking feeling inside. Had Paul invented his business so that he did not have to meet her immediately? It might be that he felt he needed time to get over his disappointment. “That is a pity. I had hoped we might talk.” “He said that I was to arrange the wedding for one month,” Lady Longstanton went on blithely. “He will have the banns called in church tomorrow and twice more before then, so we shall be ready on time. You will leave on Monday to arrange for your clothes. It should take only a few days to have your first fittings, and then you may come here, and the seamstress can bring your wardrobe here for the final fittings a week or so before the wedding.” It seemed that Lady Longstanton had everything in hand. All Hester had to do was to enjoy herself shopping and wait—and yet, she was conscious of a small niggle of unease at the back of her mind. Why had Paul gone away so abruptly? Had he regretted asking her to marry him? He loved her, but was he finding it more difficult to accept her secret than he had at first thought? **** Hester sat in church with her mother, Lord and Lady Longstanton and Charlotte, listening to the banns being called the next day. Afterwards, she received the congratulations of neighbors and friends. It was all very pleasant, but she could not help wishing that Paul had been with her. She was asked where he was several times, and it felt odd to be telling people that he had been called away on important business. It was usual for the prospective bride and groom to appear together at the first calling of the banns. Hester smiled through the curious looks, telling herself that it was not important. Paul had many things to attend to, and she was being foolish to worry about his absence. He would not allow his mother to go to all this trouble if he had any intention of changing his mind. Hester had half expected to see Richard Mortimer again, but as yet, he had made no attempt to contact her. He had warned her that Paul would turn from her in disgust and promised that he would be there to pick up the pieces when it all fell apart, but for the moment, he was keeping his distance. She was not sure whether she was pleased or sorry. If he had come to see her, she could have asked him things about her daughter. There were so many things that she longed to know. At the time, she had been so shocked and distressed that she had not thought to ask all the little details she wanted to know. She had since realized that she must speak to Richard again, because she did not actually know where to find her little girl. When she thought about the meeting, Hester had a feeling of butterflies in her stomach. She longed for it so much that she had dreamed of the child more than once, but she was also scared—afraid that her daughter would hate her for giving her up.

How could she expect the child to understand that she had been given no choice? If Sylvia knew that she was being fostered, she would have wondered who her real mother was and why she did not want her. That hurt Hester so much. She could not wait to meet the girl, because she knew that she would love her, and she would tell her so—over and over again until she believed it. She tried to picture the child in her mind. Richard said that Sylvia looked like her, but a much younger Hester. Her mother had a miniature of her as a child, and she thought that perhaps her daughter must look like that. Her heart swelled within her, filling her with a mixture of pride and happiness. She was so lucky to have the daughter she had thought dead. Even if she could only see her now and then and take her presents it would be a source of much pleasure. She was so caught up in her dreams as she stood with the others outside the church, that she took no notice as the urchin ran up to her, pushing a folded note at her. “Is this for me?” Hester asked as he thrust it at her. “Who gave it to you?” “A gent what paid me a shillin’,” the urchin replied grinning at her. “I reckon as he likes you, miss.” Hester accepted the note and opened it, staring at it in bewilderment. It consisted of just one line, telling her that the writer had something of importance to tell her and would write again when it was time. A little shiver ran down Hester’s spine, for it was very much like the notes that Geraldine had received in Bath, and it made her uneasy. She slipped it into her reticule as Lady Longstanton called to her from the carriage. Was someone trying to blackmail her? “Is something the matter?” her kind hostess asked as she climbed into their carriage beside her. “You look very pale, my dear.” “No, nothing,” Hester assured her. “It was perhaps a little cool in church and the sermon was quite long.” “Ah yes, our dear Reverend Milton does loves his sermons,” Lady Longstanton said with a forgiving smile. “But Sunday is his day, and he is so good to his parishioners that I think we must let him have his way. You should always take a muff with you, my love, and move your feet. It helps to keep them warm.” Armed with this good advice, Hester prepared for a future of dull and long sermons, which must be born with good cheer—that is if the wedding went ahead as planned. She had a dreadful foreboding that something would go wrong. **** The following day her mother left for their home, promising to return a few days before the wedding. “I have decided to ask your aunt to make her home with me in the Dower House, Hester. Your brother may decide to come home and settle down now that the estate is to be put in good heart, and in time, he may marry. Lady Longstanton has invited me to bring my sister with me for the wedding, and I shall do so.” She smiled at her and kissed her cheek. “You are a good girl, Hester. I look forward to your wedding.” “Yes, Mama. I shall see you soon.” Hester stood and waved to her mother as the carriage rolled away, sighing a little as she turned to her cousin. Mrs. Weston was in a good mood, and her daughter could only hope that nothing would occur to spoil it in the future.

“Is something the matter, Hester?” Charlotte asked, seeing her face. “Something on your mind?” “Oh, no.” Hester lied, for she could not share her fears with anyone. Had Paul been here she would have showed the cryptic note to him, but he was still away and she did not expect to see him for a few days. “No, I am fine. Why shouldn’t I be?” Charlotte refrained from asking further questions. “It is natural enough to be nervous, my dear, but there is no need to worry, truly there isn’t. Captain Crawford will be back soon,” she said. “He said he would join us in town. I dare say you are missing him?” “Yes, I am,” Hester said, because it was true. She did miss Paul’s company, but she was also anxious and she could not wait for his return. She prayed that he would not tell her that he had changed his mind. **** The next morning they left for town. Geraldine and her mother were travelling separately, but they were to meet again in town, for Lord Holbeach had a large house and his wife had insisted that Hester and Charlotte should be their guests. “It will be much more comfortable for you, my dears,” Lady Holbeach had said, smiling at Hester kindly. “The seamstress may visit both of you at the same time and that will save the poor woman a lot of running here and there.” Lady Holbeach had recommended a seamstress of high quality to them, and since Charlotte approved, they were to visit her as soon as they reached London, which they did after a day and a half of travelling in the well-sprung and comfortable carriage. The seamstress was French, one of the émigrés who had come over after the revolution and had established herself as a much sought after modiste. She had a large clientele and being dressed by Madame Louise Renoir was considered a privilege. She was charming to both the girls, but her eyes sparkled when it came to Hester, and she realized that she was being asked to create something out of the usual. “You do not care for pastels, mademoiselle?” “Not very pale colors, no,” Hester said. “I think there are occasions for a white gown, but on the whole, I prefer rich deep colors—if you think they will suit me?” “But assuredly, they will suit you to perfection. You have the style, as they say, no? You will cut a dash as the young Lady Crawford and everyone will want to buy my gowns.” She laughed huskily. “I shall be very happy to make your trousseau, Miss Weston, and I make the good price for you so that you will send all your friends here—yes?” “If your gowns are as beautiful as those you have shown me, I think you already have too many customers, madame.” “Ah, oui, you are correct,” the French woman said, “but I am—how you say—I have the hunger for more. It is my nature. I fear that no one will come and my children will grow ill from having no food in their bellies. So I work hard to save money and then one day I shall work no more.” Hester smiled. There was an immediate rapport between them, and she was content to leave the matter of her gowns in the lady’s hands. They discussed style, color, and materials, but Hester sensed that the modiste was excited by the prospect of dressing her. Geraldine’s clothes were to be very simple as befitted a younger lady, and she had chosen lots of white, silver spangles, and pretty pastel shades of pinks and blues. Hester’s gowns ranged from a deep emerald to the darkest blue and one rather shocking crimson silk

that was cut low across the bosom and over her shoulders. It was very sophisticated, and when Hester tried it on, she was startled at the woman she had become. The slightly withdrawn, reserved girl she had been had turned into a beautiful and confident woman. It was in her eyes, in the new way she had of doing her hair, which madame had suggested, and in her bearing. “That gown becomes you,” Charlotte told her when she saw it finished, “but you do look very different, Hester. I wonder if Paul will like it.” “I hope he will,” Hester replied. “If he does not, I shall not wear it.” She could hardly wait for his arrival. They had been out in company almost every night since they came to town, but only to small private parties, friends of Lady Holbeach or Charlotte. Most members of Society had gone to Brighton or Bath for the hottest month of the year while others were at their country estates, and so no large gatherings were held. Some of the people they met were those who hardly ever left town, and also mothers and daughters bent on buying new gowns for a visit to Brighton or some other pleasure trip. It was towards the end of the week that Hester received a second note. She had been out to the milliner’s with Geraldine and bought herself four new hats, some evening gloves, and dancing slippers, and she was feeling pleased with her purchases, which were to be delivered that afternoon. The note was lying on the silver salver in the hall, and she picked it up, taking it upstairs to read. Opening it, she felt a shiver down her spine as she recognized the writing and the phrasing. This time, it said that an appointment with destiny awaited her and she would soon learn something that she needed to know. Hester put the note with the first, locking it in her writing cabinet. She was thoughtful for it had occurred to her that someone was trying to punish her. If they truly had something important to tell her, why did they not just say? The purpose of these notes must be to distress her—but she would not allow herself to be distressed. She would simply forget them. Blackmailers were despicable and should be ignored. She changed into an afternoon gown and went downstairs. As she did so she heard a man’s voice and her heart caught, because it was Paul. He must have arrived after she had gone up to change. He came out into the hall as she reached the bottom of the imposing staircase and smiled at her, making her heart thump madly. “You are back! I thought I heard your voice.” She betrayed her pleasure in his return without realising it. “Hester, dearest,” he said and came to her taking the hand she offered and raising it to drop a kiss on the palm. Hester felt a quiver of desire wing its way through her body as she saw the burning look in his eyes and knew that he wanted to kiss her, perhaps much more. “Forgive me for leaving you so abruptly. I had important business.” “Yes, of course,” she said, thinking that she would forgive him anything if he looked at her that way. “But I am glad to see you here, Paul.” “Charlotte told me that you are well advanced with your wardrobe. You have had several fittings and any adjustments may be made when the garments are delivered. The modiste is to send two of her girls to make any adjustments to your clothes and my cousin’s.” “Yes, she has been most generous with her time. I have some lovely gowns, Paul, which I hope you will approve.” His eyes narrowed, his gaze dark and smouldering as he looked at her. “You do not need my approval, though I am sure I shall give it—but you are free to choose as you will.” “Thank you . . .” She felt warm beneath that smouldering gaze, her stomach clenching in a spasm of what she knew was desire. Her lips parted, for she was aware that he wanted her,

as indeed she wanted him. Her former experience had not soured her for passion, despite Richard Mortimer’s selfishness that day, and she longed for her wedding night. “But I would not wish to wear anything you thought unsuitable.” “Hester, you must not . . .” He broke off as his aunt came out into the hall. “Believe me, you could not displease me, my darling,” he said and then turned to Lady Holbeach. “Yes, you are very right, Aunt. I am not fit to be seen and must put myself in the hands of my valet immediately.” He smiled wickedly, inclined his head to her, and ran up the stairs. “I am glad that he has seen you,” Lady Holbeach said with an indulgent look. “He was on fire to know where you were, and I think he would have come to you in your chamber if I had not reminded him that he must wait another three weeks for such privileges.” From her tone, she was teasing Hester, and she smiled at the little jest. Paul would never have come to her room like that—or would he? It was not proper, of course, but in her case, he might think it allowable. After all, she was not an innocent. She had known a man’s loving, and she had given birth to a child. Paul loved her, but he did not necessarily respect her as he would have had she been innocent. The thought took a little of the sparkle from her eyes, but in a moment, she was smiling. She had almost all she wanted of life and must think herself fortunate. It would be foolish to let small slights hurt her. She must accept that she was tainted by shame and take what she could of life. **** Paul frowned as he allowed his valet to help him into clothes more suitable for town, ignoring the comments on his riding boots, which had suffered neglect while he was away. He had travelled alone, dispensing with the services of his valet, much to that person’s displeasure, but his mission had been private, and he did not want anyone to know where he had been or why for the moment. However, it was not his valet’s comments, which had brought the frown to his forehead. Why did Hester imagine that she must seek approval for her gowns? He recalled that she had seemed a little tearful and grateful after he had dismissed her confession and told her that he loved her too much for it to make a difference. Or had he made it plain that whatever she might have done in the past, it could not change his love for her? The future was another matter. He was as jealous and possessive of the woman he loved as any other man and would not stand for her taking a lover, but he did not fear it. Hester’s honesty would not allow it. If she wished to end their marriage at any time, she would be open about it. She would not want to end it! Paul’s mind rejected the idea immediately. He was certain that she loved him as much as he loved her—but did she understand how much she meant to him? It was true that he had felt a sharp, hurtful disappointment when she told him that she had given birth to another man’s child, perhaps because it was so unexpected. If she had been a widow and the child was her husband’s he would not have thought twice about it. At one time, it had been his intention to seek out such a woman so that they might have a comfortable, pleasant life together. Falling in love with Hester had put paid to that idea. His feelings for her were beyond anything he had ever expected to feel, and he was determined to make up for all the pain and humiliation that had been heaped upon her since her seduction.

After leaving Hester on the evening of the dance, he had sought out Richard Mortimer and had a frank talk with him. From Richard, he had learned the truth of that fateful afternoon, and other things that had interested him. Including the name of the person who owned the estate to which Hester had been taken when she was kidnapped. “It is not certain proof,” Richard told him. “But it gives us pause for thought, does it not? Since the estate belongs to Blackwater’s uncle, who now lives in Bath for the sake of his health.” “Hester may well have been right.” “Yes.” Richard had frowned. “She has told you of the child, of course. She would not have taken you without confessing the whole.” “Yes. I have accepted it, though I would hear your side of it, Mortimer. Why did you not marry her?” “It was my fault and mine alone,” Mortimer had told him honestly, explaining the circumstances. “I ruined Hester’s life, and I would have made it up to her if she would let me—but she prefers you, Crawford. Perhaps she is wise. I am not as decent or as wealthy as you, and I might let her down again. You will take care of her, won’t you?” “Yes, of course. What will you do now?” “You knew that my grandfather has died?” “Yes, I did hear. I am sorry.” “He had been suffering for some months. It was a blessing for him.” “Yes, I daresay.” “Everything comes to me, of course, though laden with debt. My lawyer has an offer for the estate, which is as good as I can expect to get. I shall sell and then I shall travel—perhaps to Italy.” “You will not see Hester again?” “I hardly think it necessary. You will tell her where to find the child?” “You have my word on it.” “Then I shall leave the field clear for you. I shall not see her, but I shall remain near until you marry. If you should default . . .” “You need not fear it, but come to the wedding if you wish.” “Do you truly mean that?” Richard looked at him in disbelief for most men would probably have wished him dead if they had just discovered the truth of the matter. “I do not think I could have been as forgiving if I were you.” “I am not in the habit of saying things I do not mean—except in jest, of course, and that was not in jest, Mortimer. In some strange way, I owe my happiness to you.” Had Hester not been subjected to the ordeal that had kept her unwed for years, he might never have known her—never have found the love of his life. “Then I accept. I have business at my estate that will keep me busy for a few weeks—but I shall come to see Hester wed and to wish her happiness.” They had shaken hands, and then Mortimer had departed. Paul had spent some time pacing in his study before deciding what to do next, but once his mind was set, he had acted immediately. Now he wondered if it might have been better to wait for a while. Hester was labouring under a debt of gratitude, and that was something he did not want from her. She was beautiful, intelligent and proud, and he would not see her pride humbled out of a sense of gratitude to him. Somehow, he must find a way to take back the words he had spoken involuntarily that night. He had spoken without thinking, but his careless words had hurt her.

He must make her understand that his love was all-consuming, and that far from being grateful to him, she was conferring the greatest gift she could by consenting to becoming his wife. A small, unworthy part of him might wish that she came to him untouched, but he had put his regret aside. He loved her too much to do otherwise. It had been his intention to give her a special gift, but for the moment, he might do more harm than good. He would wait until after they were married. Once she was his wife, truly his in every way, she would understand.

Chapter Ten They returned to Longstanton Hall two days later, after attending the marriage of Lucinda and Josh. This time, Hester was able to ride with Paul some of the way, which she found extremely pleasant. Indeed, every moment she spent in his company was a delight to her, for he seemed intent on making her happy and was always thinking of some way to please her. Sometimes the gift of a book of poems by one of her favorite poets or perhaps a posy of flowers, a trinket of little value that awaited her on her breakfast tray in the morning. Sometimes it was simply an excursion planned for the future, which he knew she would enjoy, or a pretty compliment about her looks or her music. He had also given her a beautiful ruby and diamond engagement ring that fitted her perfectly. Hester wondered why he had chosen a ruby, for it was said that a good woman was beyond the price of rubies, which were one of the most highly valued stones, especially a magnificent stone like hers. However, her doubts had flown, for it was clear that he had not suffered regrets and was looking forward to their wedding. He kissed her whenever they had a chance to be alone, which was usually when they went for a walk in the gardens, but he was always respectful. His kisses might convey his hunger and his need, might sweep her to the very edge, but he never pressed any other lovemaking on her. Considering that she was not a virgin, he might well have done so, but he contented himself with holding her hand or putting a casual arm about her waist. He could not have been any more the gentleman if she had been a naïve girl of seventeen, and she appreciated his consideration. He was in deed and manner, a perfect gentleman. Lady Longstanton was delighted that they were back and had immediately carried Hester off to her own sitting room, where she had collected several gifts that had arrived for her while they were away. Because they were marrying in such a short time and had not given an engagement ball, everyone was sending wedding presents. “I thought we might give a little dance two days before the wedding,” her hostess told her. “It will be easier than having two large affairs before the ceremony. Do you agree, my dear—or do you wish for an engagement party?” “No, not at all,” Hester said, for she knew that they had been invited out to several dinners in the meantime and were giving one themselves that very evening. “I shall be quite content with what you have arranged, ma’am.” “Oh, you must not be so formal,” Lady Longstanton said. “I would like it if you would call me Ellie. I do not ask you to call me Mama, as you have your own mother, though you may do so if you wish.” “I shall call you Ellie,” Hester said for the name suited her very well. “If you do not think it too familiar of me.” “We are family now,” Ellie said and reached out to touch her hand. “Now tell me, did you enjoy your stay in London?” “Very much. I have been thoroughly spoiled, for both Charlotte and my mother gave me money to spend on clothes, and Paul is forever buying me some trinket—and of course my beautiful ring.” “Yes, it is a lovely ring,” Ellie said. “Rubies are not my stone, but I think they become you well. I dare say Paul will give you the rest of the set when you are married. The ring is new I believe, but his grandmother left him all her own personal jewellery, and I know there are some lovely pieces, some very good rubies and emeralds, though perhaps a little oldfashioned. I dare say he will have it all cleaned and reset for you in a lighter mount.”

“I do not wear much jewellery,” Hester told her. “I have some pearls which were left to me by my godmother, but nothing else of value—except my ring, of course.” “Well, there are some pieces of family jewellery that will look better on you than me,” Ellie said and smiled. “I shall speak to Longstanton, and I am sure that he will have them sent down from London. We keep the things I do not use in the bank, my dear. It is safer that way, for I once had a diamond brooch stolen, and because I did not often use it, I did not realize it had been taken until months later. The culprit was probably a girl I had dismissed for bad service, but we never knew for sure. So now I choose a few things I like and leave the others in the bank’s safe until I wish for a change.” “I am sure that I would not need many pieces of jewellery.” “But Paul will want to give you lots of things,” Ellie said and laughed softly. “It is the way of new husbands. You must enjoy them, Hester dear. The first few months of marriage are very special and must be appreciated.” She gave a little sigh. “I have often thought how nice it would be to be courted again, but alas, Longstanton is not romantic. I think Paul has a great deal of me in him, and you may fare better. Not that I complain. Frederick has always been faithful to me and generous. I could have been much less well used. I know he loves me—but I long for the flowers that he once brought me every day.” Hester smiled for she knew that her hostess did not intend to be taken seriously. Lord Longstanton loved his wife, and she ruled the household as a queen. She had a garden filled with flowers, and there were always flowers in her rooms, but her husband was a little absent-minded and sometimes forgot to offer her the small tributes that she liked. A woman in her prime, Ellen Longstanton might have had a string of young admirers dangling after her if she chose to bestow her favors on a lover, but she refrained from flirting. She might complain that her husband was not a romantic, but in her heart, she knew she was loved and had too much respect for Longstanton and the family name to tarnish it with a tawdry affair. Hester knew that many women in Society were not as circumspect and that her future mother-in-law was a stickler for good behavior. She had noticed that her future mother-in-law was scrupulous in her behavior with gentlemen, and had made a mental note to follow her example. Indeed, she must be extra careful for she must never give Paul a reason to doubt her. At Longstanton, in the days that followed their return, there was little opportunity for flirtation with other gentlemen. Most of Paul’s friends were married, and though they complimented Hester frequently on her looks and congratulated Paul on his good fortune in securing her, they did not attempt to flirt with her. She was beginning to know her fiancé better and understood that he was well respected, both because of his gentlemanly behavior and of his service in the army. He never spoke of it, but there were others to tell her of the commendations for bravery that he had earned in the face of enemy fire. It was something more to admire in him, and she had a sense of living in a charmed existence, of being almost too happy as the long hot days of summer passed and the day of their wedding neared. She had almost forgotten the strange letters that had disturbed her when she received them, for she had decided to put them out of her mind, but then, on the day of their dance, she found another amongst the pile of cards brought up to her with her chocolate and croissants. After reading so many letters and messages of goodwill, it was a shock, and for a moment, she felt quite sick as she read the few lines. It is almost time for your unmasking. If you do not come soon to regret your marriage, your husband will.

What could it mean? Hester could not doubt that it had been sent with malicious intent, and she decided that she must tell Paul of the letters after all. She had hoped that it was something she could brush aside, but now she had a most unpleasant feeling that someone was planning to ruin her, and Paul ought to be warned. She saw him leaving the breakfast room as she came downstairs. They had no arrangement to ride that morning, because Paul had estate business for his father, but she called to him and he halted, smiling at her. “You look beautiful as always,” he said, and then, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her, “Is something wrong?” “I think you should see these,” Hester told him holding out the letters. “May we speak in private?” There were servants in the hall, and he took her arm, leading her into a small salon to the left, closing the door before opening the letters. The most recent was on top and he frowned over it for a moment before looking at the others and then at her. “How long have you been receiving these?” “The first was given me on the day the banns were called in church for the first time. The last arrived this morning. As you see, the first two did not seem as threatening, and I decided to ignore them, but this one . . .” She gave him a serious, steady look. “I think someone intends harm, Paul—but as much for you as me. If I were the target, he might have spoken out before this, but if he waits for our marriage, he may ruin us both.” “What are you saying?” Paul moved towards her, his mouth pulled into a thin line. “You do not wish to change your mind?” “Oh no,” she said urgently. “I think myself the most fortunate of women, but perhaps you may wish to reconsider? If the scandal should come out after we are married . . .” “Yes, it would cause a scandal,” Paul said looking thoughtful. “Which means that we must be prepared and do our best to avoid falling into the trap. However, for myself I care little. This tragedy has made you stronger, given you a character that others must admire – but we shall do our best to keep the secret for I would not have anyone think the less of you, dearest.” “But what can we do?” Hester asked. “My family concealed my shame as best they could, but if it has become known . . .” Paul reached out, putting a finger to her lips. “Let me make something clear to you, Hester. What happened was no shame to you. The man responsible has accepted the blame, for it lies with him. Society may shun young ladies who find themselves in trouble, but I think it is most unkind in such a case as yours. You have been made to believe that you were wicked, because your father was so harsh—but it is not true. You are loving and good, and I love you more than you can possibly know. To me you are perfect . . . a ruby without a flaw.” “Oh, Paul,” she said, her throat closing on a sob. “I do not deserve such goodness. I was but a foolish girl. If I had never allowed Richard to kiss me in the first instance . . .” Paul reached out to touch her cheek with his fingertips. “He has told me everything. If I can forgive him—and I have—how could I blame you?” “But I disappointed . . .” She got no further, for he swept her into his embrace, kissing her in such a hungry, passionate way that she lost her breath. She gazed up into his eyes as he released her, gasping as she saw the aching need in him and understood for the first time how much she meant to this man. “I should never have said such a thing to you,” he said huskily. “It was shock, and for a moment, yes, I was jealous and even angry that another man had touched you—but it was a

passing thing, Hester. You are who you are because of what happened. Had it not you would probably have been happily married for years, and we should never have met. The past is gone and forgotten. I want to spend my life with you, Hester. Nothing else will content me.” “Paul . . .” Tears stung her eyes but she smiled through them. “I love you so, and I never thought that such happiness could come to me.” She blinked hard. “But I do not want to ruin you or bring shame to your family.” “Then you must trust me to take care of this,” Paul told her. “All I will say now is that if I ask you to agree with me concerning this affair you will do so, and that you will follow my lead. You must not let your honesty overcome you, dearest.” She looked at him doubtfully for she could not see a way out of the situation. “Will you give me your word?” “Yes, if you ask it,” she said. “But I do not see . . .” He placed a finger to her lips once more, then dropped a kiss on her nose. “Paul, what are you planning . . . ?” “Something I have already begun,” he said. “But do not forget your promise to me. And now I must leave you, for there is something Father asked me to do for him, and I may not neglect my duty—even for the pleasure of kissing you.” Hester nodded, watching as he left her. She hoped she would not be asked to lie for she had never been good at it and it went against her natural character—but she had given her word, and if called upon she must keep it. Paul had made no mention of her daughter. It was clear that she would need to be very careful in the future, which meant that she might not be able to have the child with her as she had hoped—but perhaps Paul would allow her to have a secret meeting now and then. Hester could only pray that it would be so. Her throat caught with emotion as she thought about the child and longed to see her. If there had been any way of going to her, she would have managed it somehow, but until she could discover her daughter’s whereabouts, she must be patient. Once they were married, there would be more time to please themselves. For the time being, she was required to smile and greet all Paul’s large family, who were arriving in droves every day now. There were so many uncles, aunts, great-aunts, and cousins that she had difficulty in keeping up with them, but they were a happy, jovial family and always jesting amongst themselves. Hester felt at home with them immediately, for they treated her as their own, particularly Admiral Staunton, who was a large, ruddy-faced man who called her Hetty and winked at her with such wickedness in his eyes that she loved him as she would her own family. Because of their kindness, the time just sped by, giving Hester no time to brood about the things that hovered at the back of her mind. Everyone was giving her lovely gifts, and many of them were for her personally. “Waste of time to give that young pup anything,” Uncle Staunton told her with a wink as he presented her with a beautiful travelling case filled with glass and gold topped bottles. “Has more than he needs already, and he’ll have what’s left when I’ve gone—for I’ve no children of my own and not like to be leg-shackled at my age. Mind you, Hetty, had I seen you first, he would have had to fight me for you.” Hester shook her head at him and laughed. It was difficult to be serious with Uncle Staunton around, and indeed, she had enough to make her happy, for Paul had become more urgent in his loving and she guessed that he was finding it difficult to keep his hands from her. ****

It was traditional for the bride and groom to separate the evening before the wedding, and some friends carried Paul off to enjoy the revelry that had been planned, but he returned to the house before midnight. Hester was in bed but not sleeping when she heard a knock at the door that led through to sitting rooms and his bedchamber. She slipped out of bed, pulled on her dressing gown and opened the door to him. “Did I wake you?” he asked, his hot gaze going over her for she looked slightly dishevelled, her hair tumbling down over her shoulders. He had never seen her wear it thus, and it made him ache with the need to touch it, to bury his face in the sweet perfume of her flesh. “Forgive me, but I wanted to see you.” “Is something the matter?” She gazed up at him anxiously, her lovely eyes wide. “No, nothing is wrong, except that I wanted to see you—and to do this.” Drawing her into his arms, he kissed her deeply, passionately, his tongue exploring her mouth, dancing with hers in a sensuous way that made her moan and melt into his body, wanting him to go on and on and never stop. He kissed her mouth and the silken arch of her throat, his tongue licking delicately at the soft flesh revealed as her gown fell open to reveal the shadowed valley between her full breasts. “You are so beautiful, my darling,” he said sighing as he released her. “It is torture lying in my bed and knowing that you are so close and yet so far. I can hardly wait for tomorrow. I want you so much . . . so very much.” “If you wish it you may stay,” Hester said huskily for she was trembling with the heat of desire, her own need as great as his. “We have only a few hours to wait, and then we shall be man and wife.” “And I have vowed to wait,” Paul said in a low burning tone. “Much as I want you, and as lonely as I find my own bed, I shall wait, my darling. I want you to know that I love and respect you.” Hester smiled and shook her head at him. Taking him by the hand, she led him to her bed. “When two people love as we do, nothing can spoil it,” she said. “I want this as much you, Paul. One day makes no difference. Love me now, my dearest.” “You are sure? You will not take it as a sign of disrespect?” “No, of course not. I love you, and I want you.” She undid the ties of her silken robe, letting it fall to the floor in a heap at her feet, the curves of her lovely body clearly revealed beneath it through the sheer gauze of her night chemise. Paul gave a deep shuddering sigh and reached to stop her as she would have pulled the ties open. She smiled and let him do it for her, standing perfectly still as his fingers worked at the ribbons. Then he eased the shift upwards, pulling it over her head as she lifted her arms to allow its removal. For a moment, his eyes seemed to devour her, his hot gaze moving over her body with a slow sensuous pleasure. Her breasts were full and round, her waist slender, her hips perfectly proportioned, soft and firm beneath his hand as he cupped her buttocks, holding her close. “You are lovely, as beautiful as I knew you would be,” he breathed huskily. “I shall always love you, Hester. Always.” He reached out for her and in one fluid movement scooped her up in his arms, carrying her to the bed. She had one slender arm about his neck as he bent to kiss her before lowering her to the bed, and then he was stripping off his clothes to lie in a heap at the side of the bed. ****

Hester watched, enjoying the strong contours of his body, his long legs and lean torso strong and honed to perfect fitness, a sprinkling of dark hair shadowing his flat stomach to the evidence of his throbbing manhood. She shivered with anticipation as he lay beside her, for dimly she recalled pain when Richard had taken her maidenhead, but when Paul paused and looked at her anxiously, she put her arms about him, clasping him to her. “I am not afraid,” she murmured close to his ear. “I love you, and want you in every way.” His flesh seemed to burn hers as they lay entwined in a feverish embrace, their mutual desire sweeping away all the doubts that might have troubled either or both. Paul’s lips and tongue worshipped her body as he licked delicately at the dark rose of her nipples; he sucked at her gently, making her arch her back and moan as the desire rippled through her in great waves. He moved lower, tracing the soft smooth skin of her naval, his tongue laving her, seeking out each tiny part of her, even to the citadel of her femininity. At the first touch of his mouth here, she gave a little scream of pleasure, her nails digging into his shoulder because the pleasure was almost too much to bear. Ripple after ripple of sensation made her gasp and pant, and when he moved on top of her to ease himself inside her, she was moist and ready so that there was no pain but a wonderful feeling of belonging, of rightness as their bodies moved in perfect unison. “Paul . . .” she sighed as she drifted with him, carried to the far edges of some distant shore, her breath coming faster as at last she moaned with pleasure. “I love you so much.” “And I adore you, my darling.” Afterwards, when they lay still, Paul still stroking the silken arch of her back, their legs entangled, faces close together, he whispered of his love and his hopes for the future. Hester’s cheeks were wet with tears of happiness, and she slept in his arms, safe, content and secure in the happiness that they had found together. **** Hester woke to a tingling sense of well-being. It was her wedding day, though in truth she had anticipated her wedding night, but she could not regret it for it had been wonderful. She knew what awaited her as Paul’s wife and could hardly wait for the day to begin. Paul had left her after she had fallen asleep, and the pillow beside her was smooth and cold, as if he had shaken it before he left. Out of concern for her reputation, she had no doubt, though she was also sure that somehow the servants would know what had been going on. They always knew, but it did not matter. It was her wedding day, and very soon now she would be Paul’s wife. Charlotte was the first to come to her room. She presented Hester with a small parcel, which, when she opened it, she discovered was the deed to a house and the sum of fifteen thousand pounds in the form of a trust fund. “My lawyers will administer the trust for you until you are thirty,” she told Hester. “After that, you may do as you please with the capital—but you may wish to keep it intact for your children.” “But this is far too much,” Hester protested, jumping out of bed to throw her arms about her cousin and hug her. “You have already been so good to me, Charlotte. Had it not been for you, I should never have met Paul. To give me all this money and a house.” “The house was given me by my first husband,” Charlotte said. “I have no use for it these days, and I thought it might be useful for you. It is in Norfolk and quite close to the

sea.” Charlotte took her hand. “Araminta told me about the child, Hester. What she did was wicked, a shameful thing—and I thought perhaps if you wanted to have the child cared for properly you might . . .” “Oh, Charlotte, that is a wonderful idea,” Hester said. “Yes, I could give her a home of her own, couldn’t I? I could visit her there and know that she was being looked after as she ought to be.” It was not as good as having her child to live with her, but it was the next best thing. “Thank you so much. I shall talk to Paul about it very soon.” “Yes, well, I am sure that he will not deny you, Hester. You are very fortunate in your choice of a husband, my dearest.” Charlotte went away as the maid entered with Hester’s breakfast tray. Soon after, she received a visit from her future mother-in-law, who also brought her a gift, this time a beautiful piece of lace wrapped in paper and scented with lavender. “This was given to me by my mother,” Lady Longstanton told her with a smile. “I have kept it by me, for I thought I might use it for a Christening robe, but my mother-in-law gave me a robe for Paul’s Christening, and I did not have another child. I thought that you might like to use if for your first child.” “That is so kind of you,” Hester said. “It is beautiful, and I shall certainly have it made into a Christening robe.”. Although not for her first child. Hester felt a little guilty that Lady Longstanton had not been told the truth. She would have preferred to be open with her, but Paul had advised against it. “You and Lord Longstanton have already given me so many gifts—and Paul, of course. He is the best present I could ever have.” “What a sweet girl, you are. I am so glad that Paul found you, my dear. I know that you will make him happy, and that means that I shall always love you as my daughter.” Hester kissed her and she went away. Lady Longstanton’s visit was followed by one from Hester’s mother, who also brought her a small gift. “This was given me by someone of whom I was fond,” she said with a little blush and pushed a rather old and faded velvet box at Hester. “I have never worn it for Mr. Weston would not have been pleased to see it—but I always kept it hidden.” Hester opened the box to find a diamond pendent in the shape of a heart. It was beautiful, set in reddish gold with a loop to hang it from a ribbon about her throat. “This is lovely, Mama,” Hester said, looking at her curiously. “Who gave it to you?” “The gentleman I ought to have married,” Araminta said and sighed. “He must have beggared himself to buy me this for he had hardly any money. He was the third son of a country gentleman and had to earn his living as a doctor—but he was kind and generous, and I have often wished I had disobeyed my mother and married him.” “Poor Mama,” Hester said. “It is good of you to give it to me—but are you sure you wish to part from it?” “Yes, of course. I always meant it for you one day. I hope when you look at it you will not think too harshly of me?” “I shall not think harshly of you at all,” Hester said and kissed her. “Thank you, dearest Mama. I pray you will not think of the past at all. It is over and cannot hurt us now if we do not let it.” “Yes, we must hope so,” Mrs Weston said and smiled. “You are a good girl, Hester, and you deserve to be happy. I shall leave you now, for it is time for you to get ready. You will not want to keep Paul waiting.” “No, I must not keep him waiting,” Hester agreed. Feeling a little flutter of butterflies in her stomach, she turned to her maid as her mother went out. She had no real fears, for this

marriage was everything she wanted, but still she could not quite control a few nerves. “I am ready now, Anna.” The young woman smiled at her. First, she brought Hester her silk shift, and then the three petticoats she needed to wear under her voluminous wedding gown, which was a beautiful ivory lace creation that fitted into her waist and then blossomed into wide skirts with a small train at the back. Once she was dressed in her petticoats, Anna dressed her hair high on her head, allowing one ringlet to fall on her creamy shoulders. Her hair was dressed with flowers and ribbons, and Anna helped her to fasten the string of pearls that Paul had given her as a wedding present. She decided to secure the diamond heart her mother had given her to the pearls, and wore the diamond drops Paul’s father had given her in her ears. “You look beautiful, Miss Weston,” the maid said. “I must wish you happy, and that is the wish of us all at the Hall.” “Thank you, you are so kind,” Hester said. She had already received the gift of a beautiful wooden sewing box from the staff and had thanked them through the housekeeper. “I am such a lucky girl.” “I’m sure you deserve it, miss.” Hester smiled, feeling her throat tighten as she prepared to go downstairs. Just as she was ready to leave, a knock came at her door. Charlotte had returned to see if she was ready. “Oh, my love,” Charlotte said. “You are beautiful, quite beautiful. I think Paul will believe himself a fortunate man to have secured such a bride.” “Oh no, I am the lucky one,” Hester said, but her cousin smiled and shook her head. She picked up the bouquet of white roses and scented lilies that Paul had sent her, preparing to leave. “Are you wearing your blue garter for luck?” Charlotte asked. “Yes, thank you, and I have a lace handkerchief that Ellie lent me.” “Very well, I shall go down now and tell them that you are coming.” Hester waited for two minutes and then followed her cousin down. Her mother and Charlotte were waiting together with her brother Robert, who was to give her away. He grinned at her, seeming pleased with himself. “You look very nice, Hetty,” he said and kissed her cheek. “You’ve done us proud, love. I’m glad you’re happy at last.” “Thank you, Robbie,” she said. “I hope you will find happiness yourself soon.” “Oh, I shall rub along very nicely,” her brother said. “Can’t say I’m in a hurry to settle down just yet—but we’ll see.” They went out to the waiting carriage, where most of the staff had gathered to see Hester off. The family had gone on ahead to wait at the church, only Charlotte and Robert remaining to escort the bride. The bridesmaids were young girls and all related to the Longstanton family in some way. Hester knew them only by name and sight, as Janet and Sarah, but they made a fuss of her when she arrived at the church, arranging her dress at the back and smiling at her. She began the long walk down the aisle to where Paul was waiting for her. He had one of his cousins as his best man, for the honor would have gone to Josh Farnham had he not been on his own honeymoon. As she took her place by his side, Hester happened to glance to her right and saw a man standing just behind one of the massive stone pillars. Her heart raced as she recognized him as Henry Blackwater, and wondered what he was doing at her wedding. She had not invited him, and she did not think that Paul had either. However, in the next moment, she saw Paul smiling at her, and she forgot about the unwanted guest as the ceremony began. When it came time for the Vicar to ask that any man

having cause to deny the marriage should speak now, Hester held her breath. Would someone stand up and denounce her as the mother of an illegitimate child? Thankfully, the moment passed without incident, and then she and Paul were signing the registry before walking out of church to the sound of bells proclaiming them man and wife. Outside, tenants and village people met them, and joined in the custom of showering them with rose petals and paper confetti. An anxious mother pushed forward a small girl to present the bride with a straw doll bedecked with flowers, and another gave her a horseshoe tied with blue ribbons. Then Paul was taking her arm, urging her into the carriage. As the horses moved off, he drew her into his arms, kissing her tenderly on the lips and caressing her cheek with his fingertips. “My lovely bride,” he said in a voice husky with emotion. “At last you are mine—to have and to hold until death us do part.” “Paul . . .” She tangled her fingers in his hair as he kissed her, responding as passionately as she had in bed the previous night. “I am so happy . . . so very happy.” “I have decided to go down to my own estate this evening,” Paul told her. “We shall spend a few days there before we set out on our wedding trip. I thought we might go to Italy—if that appeals to you, my dearest. But first I want you to see your new home, and then you may order any changes you want made before we return.” Hester smiled up at him. She had hoped that she might find a way of seeing her daughter very soon, but if they were to go abroad, that might have to be delayed for some months. However, now was not the time to remind Paul that she had other concerns. Many of the house servants had lined up outside the Hall to welcome her home, and they too showered her with dried rose petals and lavender. They cheered as Paul swept her up into his arms and carried her over the threshold. And then they stood with Mrs. Weston and Paul’s parents to welcome the guests to the magnificent reception. Some of the guests had come only for the wedding, and Hester had not yet been introduced to them. She struggled to remember all their names, but when it came to the family, she fared better. “Ah, there you are, m’dear,” Uncle Staunton said when his turn came. He kissed her on both cheeks. “My word, you’re a beauty. I hope Paul appreciates his good fortune?” “Yes, I am sure he does, uncle,” Hester said and blushed. “I am very lucky too, you know.” “Well, he ain’t a bad fellow,” his uncle said with a twinkle in his eye. “But if I were a few years younger, I’d have cut him out.” At last, all the guests had arrived and the footmen were circulating with trays of champagne. A huge buffet had been lain in the dining room, but the tables and chairs overflowed into the gardens. The ballroom had been cleared to allow for dancing after the meal, and everyone strolled about with a glass in their hand for sometime before beginning to separate into groups and eat the delicious food. “And now I would like to offer a toast to the bride and groom.” Uncle Staunton stood up and gave a long, witty and slightly wicked speech before asking them to lift their glasses. Charlotte made a very brief speech about how much she loved her cousin, and wished them both a long and happy life. When Paul stood to reply to the speeches, a loud crashing sound occurred at the back of the room, and when everyone turned to look, it was seen that a man had smashed a tray of glasses quite deliberately. Several people gasped, and Hester’s heart caught as she saw who it was.

“How does it feel to be married to a whore, Crawford?” Henry Blackwater spoke into the sudden silence. The color drained from Hester’s face, for everyone was staring at him in horror, transfixed by the terrible accusation. She sat like a frozen statue as Paul’s mouth thinned and a little pulse started to beat at his temple. She saw his hands curl into tight fists as if he would like to strike someone. “I fear I do not understand you, Blackwater,” Paul replied in an icy tone. “To my knowledge you were not invited to this wedding.” “The ghoul at the feast?” Blackwater’s mouth curved in sneer of derision. “Perhaps you were afraid that something like this might happen. Or do you deny that she is a whore?” “I must ask you to explain your reasons for insulting my wife, and then I shall demand satisfaction,” Paul said his eyes glittering. “It is time there was a showdown between us, for I believe you once tried to kill me. And we both know why, do we not? It was you who supplied faulty cannon to the army and are therefore guilty of the deaths of several men.” “Had I been the one who shot at you, you would be dead,” Henry Blackwater replied. “However, it will be my pleasure to meet you when and wherever you wish. As for your accusations, they are ridiculous—and the woman you have married, I call her a whore because when she was but eighteen she gave birth to a daughter. That daughter lives in a hovel for the family disowned her.” Hester felt sick, the shame washing over her. Mrs. Weston’s face was stricken, and Charlotte looked as if she wanted to kill the man who had set out to ruin Hester’s wedding day and her life. However, Paul laughed, giving an impression of a man much amused. “And you like the blackguard, and fool you are have the wrong end of the stick,” he said. “I suppose you are speaking of Sylvia—the child I have recently decided to adopt?” Blackwater’s eyes bulged as Paul chuckled, highly amused it seemed. “It may interest you to know that the girl is mine by a former mistress.” He turned to Hester, his expression suddenly contrite. “I must beg you to forgive me, dearest. I meant to tell you about it and to ask if you could bear to acknowledge the child—but I thought it would keep until after we were married.” “Paul . . .” she whispered. Her throat was tight and the tears were threatening to well over. She could not answer him, could not lie as he would have her lie, but to admit the truth would ruin them both. Pushing back her chair, she got to her feet and ran from the room in distress. Behind her, she could hear shouting and angry voices, and one of the loudest was Uncle Staunton’s. “Blackguard! You, sir, are no gentleman, and I will have you thrashed as you deserve. How dare you make filthy insinuations about that girl?” Hester could not bear the shame of being denounced in front of all those people, nor Paul’s lies to defend her. He should not have had to do that—and on his wedding day of all days. She ought never to have put him into such a humiliating position. She ought never to have married him. She had known it was wrong, and now she had brought shame and scandal to his family for no one would believe him when he said the child was his. They would admire him for defending her, but some would call him a fool and laugh behind his back. Hester rushed up the stairs and flung herself down on the bed to weep. The tears came thick and fast for she could not stop them. “Hester, dearest.” It was only a moment or two before she heard Charlotte’s voice from the door, for she had not thought to lock it. “Do not break your heart over this nonsense. Paul will manage it.”

Hester sat up, turning to stare at her with reddened eyes. “How can you think I want him to risk his life over this? It is all my fault, Charlotte. I should never have married him. It was wicked of me.” “Are you admitting that that man’s accusation is true?” Hester looked past her cousin to Lady Longstanton, and her heart sank for there was a look of anger and dislike in her face that made her wish herself a thousand miles away. “Ellie . . . Lady Longstanton . . .” The gentle lady who had begged her to call her Ellie had gone, in her place a woman who could not conceal her outrage and disgust. “Please . . . I never meant . . .” she choked on a sob for her honesty would not let her lie and the shame was overwhelming. “Paul knew . . . he said it did not matter . . .” “If he said that, my son is a fool,” Lady Longstanton said coldly. “You have brought scandal to our family, Hester, and I am not sure that I can ever forgive you. If my son is killed in this wicked duel . . .” “No!” Hester cried, fear clutching at her heart. “You must not let him. You must tell him to stop. I do not want him to die for my sake. I would rather go away and never see him again.” “Yes, that is what you must do,” Lady Longstanton said. “If you leave now while all this nonsense is going on, it may soon be forgotten. No one will think the worse of Paul for trying to defend you, for what gentleman would not? But you must see that you cannot continue as his wife after this? He would become a laughing stock. His reputation would be ruined—and in time, he would come to hate you.” Hester stared at her in dismay. Leave Paul? How could she bear to do that on her wedding day? It would tear the heart from her, and yet as she looked into her mother-inlaw’s cold eyes, she knew she must find the strength to do it because Lady Longstanton was right. If she disappeared, Paul could have the marriage annulled and then he would be free to marry again. He would not need to fight this senseless duel. “Yes, very well,” she said in a voice that barely reached a whisper. “I shall go if you will help me.” “No, Hester, you must not run away,” Charlotte said, catching her arm as she started towards the door. “Paul would not want you to go. You know he loves you.” “Yes, he loves me,” Hester said, “and I love him. I love him too much to ruin his life. Lady Longstanton is right. If I leave now, it will be a nine-day wonder, and then people will forget, but if I stay . . .” She choked back a sob looking at the woman who had once been kind to her but now looked as if she hated her. “My clothes are packed and ready. Would you order them taken to the carriage so that I may leave as quickly as possible? Your carriage and horses shall be returned to you as soon as I am settled.” “You may keep them,” Lady Longstanton said, and for a moment, there was regret and a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “You may have need of them, and we have others. I respect you for having the courage to do what you know is right, Hester. I am sorry that it had to come to this.” “It was not your fault,” Hester said with quiet dignity. She turned to Charlotte. “I shall go to the house you gave me—though I have no right to it now.” “You have every right,” Charlotte said. “You are Lady Crawford, and you should not forget it. I think you are a fool to do this, Hester, but if you wish it, I shall accompany you.” “No, thank you, dearest Charlotte. Come to me in a week or two if you will, but for the moment, I need to be alone.” “My poor Hester,” Charlotte said. “If you will not let me comfort you, I must go and comfort your mother, for I think she is near to collapse.”

“Tell her I am sorry for shaming her,” Hester said. “All I want is that she—and you, ma’am—may find it in your heart to forgive me.” She picked up a small bag lying on her bed, and the cloak she was to have worn that night, and walked to the door. There, she turned to look back at Lady Longstanton. “All the presents I have been given shall be returned,” she said and then she went out. Hester did not look back as she slipped downstairs and out of the back door. She found a stone bench to sit on while she waited for the carriage to be made ready, and it was here that Richard Mortimer found her some minutes later. He took in the bag and her air of dejection, drawing the obvious conclusion. “Where are you going, Hester?” “I am leaving. I cannot stay here any longer. I have brought shame to Paul’s family and they will never forgive me.” “I am sorry,” Richard said. “I came today only to wish you happy, but now perhaps I may be of service to you. I would be happy to escort you to wherever you are going.” “You are kind,” she said, “but for the moment, I would rather be alone.” Even as she spoke, the girl Anna came running towards her, carrying another small bag. She bobbed a curtsey and looked at Hester. “Will you take me with you, my lady?” “Do you really wish it?” “Yes, my lady. Everyone is on your side. It’s wicked what has been said to you. You must not be alone. I want to come and take care of you, my lady.” “Then you may, for I shall need a friend,” Hester said and smiled. “Thank you, Anna— but please, I would rather be called Miss Weston, for I am not really Lord Crawford’s wife. Our marriage will be annulled and then . . .” The carriage had been brought round and she saw that her trunks were strapped to it, though Paul’s had been removed. A groom opened the door for her and helped Hester, then Anna, inside before closing it. Hester sat with her eyes closed as the carriage moved away, for she could not bear to see the house she was leaving or to think of the happiness that had been so cruelly snatched from her.

Chapter Eleven “Damn it, Paul, let me kill him for you!” Uncle Staunton growled. His generous moustache quivered with outrage as he looked at his nephew. “This is your wedding day. You should be with that little darling you married, comforting her rather than preparing to fight a duel.” “I shall be with Hester as soon as I can,” Paul told him. “This is my fight, uncle, though I thank you for your good intentions. The man set out to ruin me from the start. I am not sure what I have done to him, except that I may have humiliated him once or twice in public—and I once took a woman he wanted for my own mistress.” “Good grief, man!” Uncle Staunton said. “Men have murdered before this for less. Did it never occur to you that he might be your enemy?” “Not until recently,” Paul said. “Hester gave me the clue, for she recognized his voice when he kidnapped her, but I could not quite believe it. I had blamed Richard Mortimer for the faulty cannon since it was he who Blackwater chose to be the go-between, though even he did not know his name. Mortimer was hired by one of Blackwater’s minions. And he redeemed himself by helping to find Hester—without his help I may never have recovered her.” The look in his eyes told his uncle just what that would mean to him. He shook his head, his weather-beaten, ruddy face registering concern. “Well, my boy, this is a pretty kettle of fish, if you please. I dare say we shall brush through it—but not if the fellow kills you, and he will try. It is his chance to destroy you. He believes he has ruined your reputation and your happiness, and now he wants you dead at his feet.” “Yes, I know. I am considered a decent shot,” Paul said, though he had never killed other than on the field of battle, and it turned his stomach to think of it now. “If anything should happen to me, uncle . . .” “Consider it done, Paul. I think she is a prize worth fighting for, and in your place, I would do the same. I shall take care of her—but shoot to kill, my boy. The man hates you. He will not hesitate.” Paul nodded grimly. His uncle and two of the wedding guests had instantly agreed to be his seconds. Two rather reluctant gentlemen had agreed to act for Blackwater, though with apologies to Paul. It had been agreed that they would meet near the lake in half an hour’s time, for it was thought best to have the affair over and done with so that the wedding celebrations could resume for the bride and groom—if that were possible. Paul’s father had said nothing immediately after the confrontation, but he followed the others to the appointed spot, waiting at a distance with the doctor he had brought in case of an emergency. Paul’s seconds had brought a case of duelling pistols, and Blackwater had his own, which he presented for inspection. When the seconds had consulted each other and the weapons had been chosen, the antagonists stood facing each other, Blackwater sweating slightly, and Paul cold, his eyes icy blue. “Will you apologize to my wife, sir, and ask her forgiveness for what you have done this day?” “I shall never apologize. You may lie until you are blue in the face, Crawford, but I know the truth—and so now does the world.” A sneer curved Blackwater’s lips. “How does it feel to be humiliated?” “I am the happiest man alive to have married the woman I love and honor above all else,” Paul told him. “People may believe what they choose and be damned—but anyone who slights her is no longer my friend.”

“Is the duel to continue?” Uncle Staunton asked. “Yes,” Paul said through thin lips. “Yes,” Blackwater said, sneering. “Say your prayers, Crawford.” “Stand with your backs to each other,” Uncle Staunton said. “I shall count to ten, and you will take ten paces forward. When I say turn, you will turn, and when I say fire, you may fire at will.” He stepped back, his eyes narrowed and anxious as the men obeyed his instructions to the count of ten. “Turn,” he said, “And . . .” Before the word fire left Staunton’s lips, Blackwater fired hitting Paul in his left shoulder. Paul staggered, bringing his arm up as his uncle said, “Fire.” His pistol barked out, and Blackwater staggered backwards, clutching at his arm, which had been winged by Paul’s ball. Then, to the horror of everyone watching, he took a smaller pistol from inside his jacket and aimed it at Paul as he slumped to his knees, the blood trickling from his wound. As Blackwater’s finger pressed back on the trigger, another shot rang out, and he fell to the ground, face down, twitching for a few seconds until he lay still. All eyes turned towards the man who had fired the shot—a man who had not been of their party, but had followed and watched the events unfold. Richard Mortimer lowered his arm, standing his ground as the watchers gasped in horror. “He would have murdered Crawford,” Richard said his face an expressionless mask. “I shot to save murder being done. Arrest me if you will. I shall not attempt to escape.” Uncle Staunton had gone at once to the fallen man, ascertaining that he was dead. The doctor was attending Paul, and shaking his head over the wound, which had gone deeper than he liked. “This fellow will trouble us no more,” Uncle Staunton said. He looked round at all the men gathered there as he got to his feet. “I believe we owe Earl Mortimer a debt of gratitude. Blackwater proved himself a scoundrel, for he meant murder. For myself, I would prefer that no action be taken against Earl Mortimer. I did not see who delivered the fatal shot—is there any here who did?” “I dare say it was a poacher,” Sir Justin Maybury said. “As a JP myself, I shall investigate this unfortunate matter, but in the absence of any further evidence, I shall find a death by misadventure.” “Lord Crawford must be got home as quickly as possible,” Doctor Allen said into the silence that followed this announcement. “I suggest that servants be called, and if the other gentleman could be conveyed to my home, my housekeeper shall arrange for him to be decently presented to any relative who cares to claim the body—after I have attended on my patient, of course.” There was a murmur of agreement all round and Sir Justin nodded at Richard Mortimer. “If you would grant me a few moments, sir. I would like to clear this matter up, and then you are free to go.” “Thank you for your intervention,” Richard said. “I may be able to clear up a few things that are puzzling you about this affair and reassure you that Blackwater was a villain, a cheat, and a murderer.” “Good, that is what I had hoped to hear. I must be able to present a good case lest this afternoon’s events are questioned in court, though I doubt it will happen. Strictly speaking, the duel was illegal—but such things are still dealt with leniently in most cases. I believe we may bury the details, but I would hear the story in case I need to bring it to court.” Servants had arrived with a gate taken from its hinges to carry Paul home. He was unconscious and still bleeding, though the doctor had applied a pad to his wound. Richard

Mortimer accompanied Sir Justin to the house, where they were closeted in the library for some minutes. When he emerged, Richard saw Charlotte looking distressed and went to her at once. “Countess Danbury,” he said looking concerned. “Have you news of Captain Crawford?” “No more than you already know,” she said. “He has been carried to his room and the doctor is still attending him.” She gave a little sob of distress. “This is all so awful. Hester has run off because Lady Longstanton condemned her for bringing scandal to the family, and now Paul is ill and she ought to be here with him.” “Would you like me to go after her?” “Her brother has already done so. We can only hope that he catches up with her before she has gone too far—and that she will return. Hester can be very stubborn, and she believes that she has brought shame on this family.” “She told me that she wished to be alone,” Richard said. “But will you tell me where she is going? If her brother fails to persuade her, I might succeed in his place.” Charlotte looked at him doubtfully. “I have never been sure though I suspected . . . were you the one . . .?” “Yes,” Richard admitted. “I am to blame for all that has happened to her. It was not Hester’s fault. I was young and arrogant, and I have regretted what I did a thousand times. I care for her deeply. I cared then, and I care now. Please, tell me where I may find her if she does not return here.” “I have given her a house in Norfolk,” she said. She took a tiny notebook in a silver case from her reticule and wrote down the direction. “Take this and act as you see fit. I pray that Hester will return and find happiness with the man she loves—but she believes she is fatally flawed and will bring him only shame.” Richard inclined his head as he slipped the scrap of paper into his jacket pocket. “I shall wait and see what happens,” he said. “If Hester returns, I shall make no effort to see her, but if she does not . . .” “Yes, well, that is for the future,” Charlotte said. “I am leaving as soon as my things are packed. Hester’s mother is in a state of collapse, and I am going to take her home and stay with her until we have more news. This has been a dreadful affair, sir. Quite, quite shocking.” “Yes, ma’am, I believe it has,” Richard Mortimer replied. “I have suspected Blackwater for a few weeks, for I traced his man back to him, but I did not act. I wish now that I had found some excuse to kill the rogue before this, but I hesitated.” “I wish that someone had killed him before this happened,” Charlotte said angrily. “I just hope that the Longstanton family can contain the scandal, though I doubt it. Some of the wedding guests have already left, and I dare say there will not be a club in London that does not know of this before the week is out.” Richard held back his reply as they saw the doctor coming downstairs and went to him, inquiring for news of Paul. “He is as well as may be expected,” the doctor said giving a little shake of his head. “The ball went deep, and I had to cut for it, which means there may be some infection. Had the shot been a little lower he would be dead already. However, there is hope. I shall return with remedies to help the fever and to ease his pain—but for the rest . . .” He shook his head once more. “It is in the hands of God.”

“Then we must pray for him,” Charlotte said, her voice breaking on a little sob. “They were both so happy and now this.” She turned and walked away, leaving the two men to look at each other in understanding. “Crawford is a strong man,” Richard said. “He has everything to live for. He will fight, sir. In his shoes, I would find the will to survive, and I believe he will come through . . .” If there were a faint hope at the back of Richard’s mind that it would make it easier for him to convince Hester to come away with him if her husband died, he suppressed it. He wanted her, but he was bound by his honor not to take unfair advantage while Crawford was ill—but if Hester did not return to her husband, he would go to her. **** Robert Weston cursed as his horse limped slowly beside him. The animal had cast a shoe a mile back, and the next village where he might find both a forge and a replacement for his horse was some distance. He had already wasted an hour or more taking a wrong turn at the crossroads, for the milestone had been covered by grass and he had not seen the direction. He had gone straight ahead when he ought to have turned right, and it was not until he came to a coaching inn and inquired the direction that he was told of his mistake. Now, his favorite horse was lame, and he was forced to walk it as gently as possible to the next hostelry. In another hour or so, it would be dark, and he would have no chance of finding his way. It looked as if he would have to find somewhere to stay for the night, and that meant he would not catch Hester on the road. Charlotte had given him the address of Hester’s house, but it might take a bit of searching to discover the exact location, which was a dashed nuisance in the circumstances. However, he owed it to his sister to catch up with her as soon as possible. She would naturally wish to return to her husband in the circumstances—or would she? Charlotte had seemed to think that Hetty had some bee in her bonnet about having brought shame on her husband’s family, but most of those he had spoken to seemed to be on her side as far as he could make out. Few of them believed Paul’s story, of course, but appeared prepared to give Hester the benefit of the doubt. Young as he was, Robert had already discovered that there were two levels of behavior in society. All kinds of affairs might go on between married ladies and their lovers, but providing it was kept discreet, nothing was said and the lady was accepted into most circles. The scandal that had brought his sister so much pain was different, and had it been discovered before she was married would have led to her being shunned by all but a few of the society hostesses. However, she was married. Her husband was clearly prepared to champion her and to take the child as his own—and he had given them an explanation that, if they chose to accept it, meant that Hester would be seen as a forgiving woman who had accepted her husband’s by-blow. If she chose to return to him, of course. She had possibly done the worst thing by running off, which would seem to confirm her guilt—at least that was how it seemed to her brother. Robert was as fond of his sister as of anyone he had so far met, and he had been pleased to see her so happy. He thought that if Blackwater had not already been shot, it would have pleased him to do it. All he could hope was that when Hester returned—if she agreed—her husband would forgive her for leaving him. ****

Hester would not let herself weep while they travelled. Anna’s soft brown eyes were filled with sympathy as she tended to her mistress, fetching her a tankard of ale and some cakes when they stopped that night at an inn when Hester refused to go down and eat a proper meal. “I’ll bring some food to the room, miss,” she told her. They were sharing a room, for Anna knew what was proper and it would not do for Lady Crawford to sleep alone in a strange inn, especially on her wedding night. This whole business was a scandalous affair, but Anna, who had heard what Lady Longstanton had said to her new daughter-in-law, was very much on her mistress’s side. “Don’t you worry, miss. Things will work out all right.” Hester gave her a sad smile. She did not see how anything could ever be right for her again. She had been given everything her heart desired only to have it snatched away from her before she had tasted its sweetness. How could Henry Blackwater have done that to her? She had tried not to hurt him when she’d refused his own proposal, but if it were Paul he had set out to ruin, her own ruin had merely been the means to an end. If only he had spoken at some other time, Hester thought regretfully. Why did he have to spoil her wedding day, when everyone had been having such a good time? It hurt her so much to know that not only had she brought shame to Paul and his family, she had also forced him to the point of risking his life to defend her. Her common sense told her that the duel was not just about her, that they obviously had a score to settle and this would have happened one day. But this way, it reflected on her, making her carry the blame for the whole sordid affair, and she felt wretched. She wept softly into her pillow that night, trying not to wake the young girl who had accompanied her and slept on a truckle bed a few feet away. It was all her fault. If she had refused to marry Paul, Henry Blackwater must have found some other way to work his evil. Hester prayed fervently that Paul would not be injured in the duel. She doubted that anything his mother or anyone else said to him would dissuade him from fighting, and she could only pray that he would not be killed or fatally injured. The thought of him wounded was like a dagger in her breast, but her pride and her sense of what was right would not let her have the carriage turned around. Paul loved her. He might call for her, need her in his distress if he were wounded, but she could only bring him more pain if she stayed. She had done the right thing in leaving, though it broke her heart. To go back now would only prolong the agony. Thinking about what might have been was too hard. Thinking of Paul lying in his bed, calling for her in a fever was too painful. Several times it was in her mind to turn back, but she conquered her selfish needs. Lady Longstanton had shown her where her duty lay, and how could she question her wisdom? She admired her husband’s mother very much and had wanted to be like her, loved and respected by her family. Now that dream was ended, for everyone would see her as tainted— the woman who had born a child out of wedlock and then had the temerity to marry a man of upright standing like Paul. He was the perfect English gentleman, honorable, brave, strong, and honest—but he had been forced to lie to protect her. It was no use. She had made the break, and there was no going back now. As painful as it was, she must leave things the way they were. Paul might hate her for deserting him at this time, but perhaps that was for the best. He would divorce her, and in time, he would find someone else to love. ****

Paul’s eyelids flickered and opened as he struggled through the fog of the fever that had lain over him for a day and two nights. He was cooler now and becoming conscious of a terrible burning pain in his shoulder, though for the moment he could not remember what caused it. “Hester,” he murmured. “Water . . . please, water . . .” “Here you are, my dearest,” someone said, and a cup was placed to his lips as a soft arm supported him, helping him to drink. “You will feel better soon.” “Hester.” He sighed. “Is that you?” He was restless, for something was not right, but in his weakened state, he could not think what it was. He drifted into sleep once more, and when he woke again, the sun was shining in the window. He moaned and threw up an arm to shield his eyes, groaning as he felt a sharp pain. “Please . . . draw the curtains.” “Is the sun in your eyes, my dearest?” Paul focused on the person who had spoken, realising that it was his mother. She had been tending him—but where was Hester? Where was his wife? Why was she not with him? “Hester . . . ask her to come,” he said in a fretful tone. “I need to see her. Please.” “I am sorry, I cannot do that, Paul.” “Why?” Something was wrong. Suddenly, Paul was fully conscious. Aware of the nagging pain in his shoulder, he eased himself up against the pillows and stared at his mother through narrowed eyes. “Where is my wife?” “She . . . is not here,” Lady Longstanton said guiltily. He had called for Hester so often in his fever and she had come to understand the depth of his need for the girl he had married and to regret the hasty words that had driven Hester away. ‘she left almost at once after . . .” “Why did she go, Mother?” He could see the guilt in her eyes and he knew how sensitive Hester was concerning what she thought of as her shame. “What did you say to her?” Lady Longstanton’s gaze fell before his. “I merely asked if what that man said was true, and she . . . she said that she ought never to have married you. She was distressed because she had brought shame on the family, and she said that she would go away at once so that you might have the marriage annulled.” “And what did you say then? Did you tell her that she must stay—or did you tell her to go?” “I am sorry, Paul. I thought it best that she leave. I was so angry with her for bring scandal to this family that I spoke hastily. I have since regretted it.” “I should damned well hope so!” Paul growled, throwing the covers back and swinging his legs to the side of the bed. “None of this was Hester’s fault. If you want the truth, she was raped as near as, damn it, even if the man concerned was half in love with her. Her father treated her abominably until he died, and her mother lied to her—told her the child was stillborn. Hester broke her heart over it, and she refused me when I asked her to marry me because she thought it might cause a scandal if it came out. I told her I didn’t give a damn about anything but her—and I don’t. If you cannot accept her as my wife, then you will not see me here again.” “Oh Paul,” his mother cried, her face draining of color. “No, please do not say that. Forgive me. I spoke without thinking. Of course, I shall accept her, no matter the consequences. I am sorry.” As he stumbled and almost fell, she gave a little cry of alarm, put

out her hand to catch his arm, and eased him back towards the bed. “No, you must not get up yet. You are too ill. You must rest.” “I must find Hester. I must beg her to return,” he said, a fretful, angry note in his voice. “Where is she?” “I do not know,” Lady Longstanton admitted. “Had I known I might have sent for her when you were in that fever, for you called for her so often that it broke my heart. But I have no idea where she went—though I think that perhaps Countess Danbury may. She spoke of going to a house that the Countess had given her.” “Have you asked her?” “She left after they brought you home, Paul. Hester’s brother went after her to try and persuade her to return I believe, and the countess took Mrs. Weston home. I think she was in a dreadful state.” “I should imagine so. It was a terrible thing to happen,” Paul said. He was forced to sit down on the edge of the bed, for his head was spinning. “How many days have passed since the duel?” “This is the morning of the third day after your wedding,” his mother said. “I have heard nothing from Hester. I cannot tell you if she means to return.” “Of course she will not return to a house where she was made to feel unwelcome,” Paul said scornfully. “It is obvious to me that you have not learned to know Hester, Mother. She is proud and brave, and however much it hurt her to stay away, she would for my sake.” “Even if she thought you close to death?” “Yes, perhaps even then if she believed she could only harm me by her presence.” “I should have thought that if she loves you . . .” Lady Longstanton stopped as she saw the flash of anger in his eyes. “Well, perhaps not. I do not know how it may be, Paul. I am sorry for my part—but you should not try to follow her for a day or so. Your wound may open again, and you might succumb to another fever. Anyway, until we can reach Countess Danbury, we can do nothing.” “Then someone must be sent to her immediately. You are right about one thing, I am too weak to go in search of Hester as yet, but I must know where she is or I shall not rest. I must know that she is safe and well.” “That man . . .” Lady Longstanton hesitated. “I do not know if you are aware of it, but Mr Blackwater was shot dead after he tried to shoot you for the second time.” “Then at least she is safe from him,” Paul said with a sigh as he lay back against the pillows. “I shot to wound for I would have preferred to see him tried and hung for his crimes, but perhaps this is best. To whom do I owe a debt of gratitude for saving my life?” “I believe it was Earl Mortimer,” she said uncertainly. “Your father told me in confidence, though I think it has been hushed up. Sir Justin is dealing with it.” “Mortimer,” Paul muttered fretfully. “Always Mortimer. He wants her, and he told me that if she was rejected by my family, he would do his best to take her from me.” His eyes closed as he fell back against the pillows, exhausted by his efforts to get out of bed. “Damn it, I may have lost the one woman I shall ever love and I can do nothing.” Lady Longstanton looked down at him. “I am sorry,” she whispered. **** “Why will you not reconsider?” Robert asked. It had taken him two days to find her, and though she had greeted him with a smile and a grateful hug, she had refused to be swayed by his arguments. “I cannot understand you, Hester. I thought you loved Crawford?”

“With all my heart, so much that I shall never love anyone else—and too much to let him destroy his future for my sake.” “That’s rubbish,” Robert said and shook his head at her. “Damn it, Hetty! The man is in love with you. He is prepared to stand by you, to lie for you—” “That is just it,” Hester said, her eyes dark with inner anguish. “I cannot live a lie. I would have kept the secret had it been possible and met my daughter in secret, but now that it is out, I would prefer to tell the truth. I know that I would not be welcome in a great many houses, that many of the people who have been so kind would turn their faces in disgust— but a few would still continue to be my friends. It would be better to live quietly than to try to deceive others. Some might pretend to believe for the sake of politeness, but I would rather Paul had told the truth and damned them all.” “You cannot expect so much of him, Hetty. It is a hard thing for any man to accept. Crawford has done so in private, but he was not prepared to be made a fool of in public. No one will mind that he has a by-blow, and you will be thought of as some kind of saint if you accept the girl.” “But she is mine,” Hester said. “And I must see her, Robert. I do not know where she is, but you can find out for me.” “How should I do that?” he asked uneasily. “You gave Viscount Mortimer some information that led him to discover her,” Hester said. “If you care for my feelings, go to him in London and ask him for her direction and then write to me. I must see her, Robbie. Please understand that I have nothing else left. If Charlotte insists that I must have all that she gave me on my wedding day, I can live here quite comfortably, for I shall not need much. I dare say I shall not go into company very often, but if I have my child, I shall not mind that.” “Oh, Hetty,” Robert said and hesitated. “If you want the truth, Mortimer is staying at an inn in the village. He came down yesterday and sent me a note asking if he might see you. I told him that I would speak to you when I thought you were ready.” He frowned at her. “Do you trust him? He let you down before—how do you know that he won’t let you down again?” “He is not the arrogant man he was then,” Hester said with quiet dignity. “He begged me to marry him and said that we would take our daughter abroad and marry there. I refused him because I loved Paul.” She smothered a sob. “I shall always love Paul, but perhaps Sylvia is entitled to know her father.” “You are a fool if you think that way,” Robert told her. “He will let you down, Hetty. You would do much better to return to your husband.” “No, I cannot,” Hester said. “If he still wants me, Paul will come to me. He will understand why I left him and he will come—but if he reconsiders, if he believes that his mother was right and that we should separate I must accept it. I shall not push my claims, Robert.” She laid a hand on his arm. “Please, ask Earl Mortimer to call—and then go to Longstanton Hall and inquire after Paul. You may write to me from London and tell me how he is. I pray that the wound was not too serious. You told me it was a shoulder wound, and I believe it will heal.” She turned away and he guessed her anguish. “I can bear this parting as long as I know that Paul is recovering and will make a new life for himself.” Robert stared at her in frustration. He had pleaded and threatened in turn but she was too strong for him. He loved her but he did not understand her. If he had known the truth all those years ago, he would have told their father and surely she would have been spared at least some of the punishments she had been forced to endure. And yet, would their father have forgiven her even though it had not been her fault?

Why did she not hate Mortimer? He could hardly bear to speak to the man, knowing as he did what his sister had suffered all those years—was suffering now. But she wished to speak with him, and there was little else he could do but pass on her message. He might think it madness, but he could not deny Hester the solace of knowing her own child. **** “What are you saying to me?” Hester stared at Richard, her eyes wide with distress. “Sylvia has disappeared? How could that happen? Has someone taken her?” “I went there before coming to you,” Richard told her. “It was my intention to bring our daughter to you, Hester—but I was told that a gentleman came and took her away more than a month ago.” “And they let him take her?” Hester shuddered, visions of slavery flashing into her mind, for she knew that young girls often disappeared into houses of prostitution, both here at home and abroad. “How wicked they are! Were they paid? Or was she stolen?” “They tried to tell me she had been stolen, at least the man tried to lie, but the woman broke down in tears and told me the truth. He had sold Sylvia to the gentleman for five hundred guineas. I think she must have been quite fond of the girl despite her neglect, and it was playing on her mind that she had allowed it to happen.” “My poor child,” Hester cried, tears starting to her eyes. “Oh, Richard. I cannot bear to think what may be her fate. We must find her. We must . . .” “You do not recall what Crawford said when Blackwater called you a . . .” He saw her eyes widen. “I was sitting at the far side of the room, Hester. Something he said . . . I cannot be sure for he may simply have been lying to put Blackwater off the scent . . . but he said that the girl he had recently adopted was his by-blow. Now if it were Sylvia he was speaking of . . .” “You think that he really has adopted her as his own child?” Hester was stunned for it was beyond anything she had ever expected of her husband, more than she would have dared to ask, and it brought tears to her eyes. She sat down on the nearest chair, covering her face with her hands as the tears flowed. Try as she might, she could not stop them for her heart was breaking. Paul had done so much for her and she had left him. She had refused to go to him even though she knew that he was wounded. He must despise her for her weakness, think himself well rid of her. “I have brought him nothing but trouble . . .” “None of this was of your making,” Richard said. “I was to blame for what happened to you—and I ought to have done what Crawford has done. He saw that the girl was in danger from her adoptive father, and he acted immediately. I sought to bribe you with her future, but you saw through me, Hester. Crawford is the better man. Even today, I would have taken you from him if I could, but he has the girl, and I know you do not care for me enough to come without her.” “Oh, Richard.” Hester looked up at him, her face stained with tears. “Please do not think that you mean nothing to me. I loved you once, but it was a young girl’s love, and I am no longer that naïve child. Yet, there will always be a corner of my heart that belongs to you, and once Sylvia is with me, I shall be pleased for you to see her sometimes.” “You are too far above me,” Richard said with a rueful smile. “I have known it for a while, but I hoped that I might somehow win your heart. I know it is impossible. So, what will you do now?”

“I do not know,” Hester said. “I know that Paul must hate me now for leaving him when he lay close to death, but I think he will not deny me my child. If I write a letter to him, will you carry it for me?” “Yes, if it is your wish,” Richard said and frowned. “But I do not think he will hate you. Why do you not return to him? It is your right as his wife. I am sure that he would understand if you told him what his mother said to you.” “Charlotte told Robert, and I begged him not to repeat it,” Hester said. “You must give me your word that you will not tell Paul. I do not wish to cause a rift between him and Lady Longstanton. I have done enough harm to that family.” “Of course, if you wish,” Richard said easily. “Write your letter and I shall deliver it myself.” “And what will you do then?” she asked going over to the small writing desk to pen a few lines, which she sanded and sealed with wax before handing the letter to him. “Where will you go now?” “I have a buyer for my estate. I shall go abroad, for I have a few friends and I may live cheaply in some vast, crumbling Italian palace and think myself rich. I would wish for you to come with me, Hester, but I know that you would pine for Sylvia and the man you love.” “Forgive me. Had you asked me a few months ago . . .” She would have taken his offer willingly to escape from the life that had been hers until Charlotte whisked her away to Bath, but now she knew her heart belonged irrevocably to Paul. “I am sorry, Richard, truly I am.” “Do not grieve for me,” Richard said and smiled oddly. “I dare say I shall survive.” He moved towards her, hesitating for a moment before bending his head to kiss her softly on the lips. “Forgive me for all I have done to harm you, and think of me kindly sometimes.” “Yes, of course.” She stood motionless as he turned and walked from the room, and then she sat down at her desk. For three days, she had done nothing but weep. Now she must begin to write some letters, and there were all the lovely gifts she had received that must be returned. She would make a start by writing to her mother and Charlotte, and then perhaps she and Anna would begin the task of sorting out the gifts that had been packed into her trunks.

Chapter Twelve “There is a gentleman downstairs who has asked if he may see you, sir.” Paul’s valet looked down his long nose in disapproval. “I told him that you were not yet ready for visitors, but he insisted that you would wish to see him for he has something important to give you.” Paul was sitting in the wing chair by his window, a glass of brandy and a book on the occasional table at his side. He had insisted on getting up that morning and on being shaved and dressed, even though the pain in his shoulder had almost sent him to the floor. Five days had passed since he was wounded, and he was desperate for news of Hester. His mother’s letter to the Countess of Danbury had been met with no answer, though he knew it was soon enough for a reply to have reached them. His gaze narrowed as he looked at the valet. “Spit it out then, man. Clearly you disapprove—but you know his name I take it?” “It is Earl Mortimer, sir. However, as Lady Longstanton said that you were not to have visitors apart from family.” “Damn that for a tale,” Paul growled, offending his man who had never known his master so out of sorts before. “Fetch him up here, Hernshaw, and be quick about it—unless you want me to come down?” “That would be folly, sir,” Hernshaw said with dignity. “I shall ask the earl if he will come up immediately. He is waiting for you answer downstairs.” “Right, good man,” Paul said realising that some sort of apology would be necessary. “I’m out of sorts at the moment. I thought you might have sent him away without asking.” “I believe I know my duty better than that, sir.” Hernshaw went away, very much on his dignity, leaving Paul to smile ruefully. He must mind his tongue, for he had never treated his servants with anything other than the same respect they gave him, and it would not do to alienate them. He frowned over his wine as he sipped it. Not quite what his physician had ordered, but better than the pap they had been feeding him these past days. Why had Mortimer come— and what was he to do if his message was what Paul feared? He frowned as he heard the footsteps outside his door, quick, impatient, firm, and then a knock and the door was opened by his valet to allow the visitor to enter. “Forgive me if I don’t get up,” Paul said and indicated a spare chair. “Please, sit down, sir. May I offer you a glass of wine?” “Thank you, no,” Richard replied. “I am on my way to London but came first to you to deliver this.” He handed Paul the sealed note from Hester. “I promised that I would put this into your own hands, and having done so, I shall not presume on your hospitality.” “Damn it, Mortimer! You are welcome here. I believe I owe my life to you?” “Possibly,” Richard replied with a slight smile. He hesitated and then sat in the elbow chair Paul had indicated. “You will be a damned fool if you lose her over this business, Crawford. She is worth fighting for—and she loves you.” “I am aware on both counts,” Paul replied. “Weak as I am, I should have been on my way to her before now if I had known where she had gone.” “Ah, I wondered,” Richard said and laughed. “I must tell you that I begged her to come away with me. Had I known where you had taken the girl, I might have held the trump card, for I believe her letter is to beg you to help her see her daughter. She does not expect you to take her back as your wife.”

“Hester knows that I love her. I know why she went and why she stayed away,” Paul said and frowned. “She has been hurt too many times—and she has been made to feel that she is unworthy. I intend to find her and convince her differently, as soon as I am able. I shall travel tomorrow, though this thing has laid me low.” “If you will take my advice, you will not go until you are recovered. She has no intention of going anywhere.” “That is neither here nor there,” Paul replied. “I love her, and I cannot bear to think of her alone and unhappy.” “Then I shall say no more. I am on my way to complete a business transaction my lawyer has drawn up. After that I intend to travel.” Richard stood up and came over to shake Paul’s hand. “I wish you a speedy recovery, Crawford—and much happiness in the future. I shall leave you now, for I am sure that you have much on your mind.” “I hope that you will find the life you want on your travels,” Paul said. “Thank you for bringing me Hester’s letter.” “It was the least I could do. We both love her, Crawford—but she has chosen the better man.” Richard smiled oddly, giving him a military salute before walking away. Once his visitor had gone, Paul opened Hester’s brief note. It begged his pardon for bringing scandal and pain to him, said that she prayed for his recovery and hoped he would help her to find her daughter when he was well again. Paul frowned over the note for it was written in such a way that it gave no hint of her feelings. He could imagine that she was suffering, but she had held back all emotion. Crushing the paper into a ball, he cursed. Damn Henry Blackwater for what he had done— and damn his mother for being so unkind to his wife! **** “Oh, Charlotte,” Hester cried as her cousin entered the room where she was sitting working at a piece of embroidery. “I am so glad to see you!” “My dearest Hester,” Charlotte said and embraced her warmly. “I was not sure whether you would want to see me yet, but Araminta was anxious about you. She did not feel up to making the journey herself, but begged me to make sure that you were not desperate. She had a notion that you might try to kill yourself.” “No, I shall not do that,” Hester said, smiling sadly at her cousin. “I have never been quite so unhappy, Charlotte, for to have found such happiness only to lose it.” She sighed deeply. “I should have known better than to expect anything. My father warned me.” “Your father was a bully and a fool,” Charlotte said crossly. “He ruined Araminta’s life and tried to squash you. It was only your strength of character that saved you, my dearest.” “I think his unkindness taught me to be strong,” Hester said, her throat tight with emotion. “I shall need to be strong now for I must face a lifetime of being alone—though I hope to have my child with me eventually.” “Do you think that is wise?” “I do not care whether it is wise or foolish,” Hester said. “My daughter has suffered neglect and unkindness through no fault of her own, and I intend to make it up to her. Richard Mortimer thinks that Paul may know where she is, and I have written to him. I hope that he will reply and tell me where I may find her.” “You are a brave woman,” Charlotte said. “I admire you even though the path you have chosen would not be mine. However, I do not think you will be entirely alone, for I shall

visit and I have already been asked where you may be found by some of your friends. I imagine they might write or perhaps visit when it is convenient.” Hester nodded though she thought it unlikely she would receive many visits. Perhaps a letter or two, but people soon forgot and she would not be going into society—unless she found some friends in the district. As yet she had hardly left the house. She and Anna had been busy sorting out the wedding gifts that must be returned, though none had been sent for she did not know where to send them. It might perhaps be best to send them care of Lady Longstanton. “Well, if I have you as my friend, I shall not need many others,” Hester said with a smile. “And if my mother has forgiven me, I am satisfied.” “Well, I shall stay with you a few days,” Charlotte said. “I noticed that you still have Lady Longstanton’s carriage here—do you intend to keep it?” “Only as long as I need it,” Hester said. “Once I have my daughter’s direction, I shall go to fetch her, but after that . . .” She broke off as she caught sight of a carriage pulling up in the courtyard outside her small front parlor. “It seems we have a visitor . . .” Her breath caught as she realized who it was. “Paul . . . oh, he should not have come . . .” But her heart was leaping at the sight of him, and insensibly she began to hope. She went out into the hall feeling flustered as her maid answered the door to him. She had only a few servants at the house, her cook and the housekeeper, who had both worked for Charlotte, and her own maid, though there was a girl who came in early to clean the house—and of course an outside man to take care of the garden. Lady Longstanton’s coachman had walked the horses to the inn for there was no stable here. “Paul . . . what are you doing here?” she asked as Anna took his cloak, hat, and gloves. “I am sure you should not . . .” She stopped as she saw the ravages of pain and grief in his eyes. “Oh, my dearest, you should not have come yourself. You are not well. A letter from your messenger would have sufficed.” “I could not bear to think of you alone here,” he said and then saw that Charlotte had come out into the hall. “I did not know you were here, ma’am. I wrote to you care of Mrs. Weston.” “Your letter must just have missed me,” Charlotte replied and nodded her approval. “I have but just arrived myself. I trust I see you on the mend, sir?” “I believe I shall be well enough given a few days of rest,” he replied. “Forgive me, Hester, but I think I must ask to sit down in your parlor—and a glass of brandy if you have it would be of help.” “Yes, of course there is brandy,” Charlotte said. “I shall see to it myself—take Paul and make him comfortable, Hester. You must have a few moments alone while I arrange the dinner for this evening with Cook. It will be pleasant to talk to her again.” Paul followed Hester into the parlor and sank into a comfortable leather wing chair by the fireplace. The room had been much used in the past and had an air of peaceful serenity. He leaned his head back, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over him. The journey had seemed interminable and he was not truly well enough to be travelling. “You are ill,” Hester said, kneeling by his side. She took his hand, pressing it to her cheek and then kissing it. “Forgive me for leaving you, Paul. I have prayed for your recovery—but you know why I left?” He opened his eyes and looked at her. “Yes, I know, and I am sorry you were treated so abominably in my parents’ house, Hester. My mother has realized that she was wrong, and she sends her apologies.”

“But she was not wrong,” Hester said. “It is true that she was unkind and I was hurt for I had thought she liked me . . .” She caught back a sob as his hand gripped hers tightly. “But that does not make her wrong, Paul. I was wrong to marry you. I knew that if my secret came out it might bring shame to your family, but I never expected . . .” “He is dead,” Paul growled. “I merely winged him, for I would have had him brought to justice, but he tried to shoot me when I was already wounded and on my knees. Mortimer killed him—did he tell you that?” “Not exactly,” Hester said, her eyes widening with shock. “He said that Henry Blackwater had been brought to justice and would not trouble me again—and he said that you had been wounded, but that it was not fatal and you would recover.” “He behaved like a man of honor,” Paul said, an odd look in his eyes. “I know that he tried to persuade you to go with him, but I excuse him that, for he could not know that I would come after you.” “You should not have done, my dearest,” Hester said. “You simply make it harder for us both. I am glad to see you, but it will be even harder to part when you go . . .” “I am not leaving here alone,” Paul said, his eyes glittering with sudden determination. “You are my wife, Hester. You belong with me, and I with you. I love you and without you my life means nothing.” “But . . .” He reached out to place a finger against her lips. “No, do not say it, Hester. I know what you will say but I do not care. I lied to try and save you from the cruel tongues of those who will try to destroy you—but I have since realized that I was wrong. We shall not try to hide the fact that you have a daughter. I have already taken steps to adopt her, and she will live with us at my estate in Devon. Indeed, she is already there, for I took her down myself before I joined you in London. The air is very good there, and she will be well fed and cared for even when we are not there. I have employed a governess to teach her the things she needs to know, and as soon as I am well enough to travel that far, we shall go to join them.” “You did so much for me—and yet you did not tell me?” “I intended to once we were married,” Paul said and smiled at her. “It was to have been the most important of my wedding gifts to you—though it was my intention to let people think she was my daughter not yours.” His fingers trailed her cheek and her throat, touching the pulse spot in the little hollow at the base. “It was for your sake, but I was wrong. I should have spoken out, told my parents—and the world. It was stupid of me to lie.” “No one believed you,” she said. “I know that it means some people will not accept me into their homes. I am prepared to accept that for myself, but you . . .” He leaned forward to kiss her on the lips. “If they will not accept you, then I do not care for them,” he told her softly. “You are my love and my life, Hester. Please believe that I shall never give you up.” He saw a tear slip from the corner of her eye, and wiped it away with his thumb. “No, do not cry, my love. I want only to make you happy.” “But you have,” she said and caught back the sob that rose to her lips. “I did not think that such happiness could ever be mine.” “You should always have been happy,” he said. “But what you do not understand is how much you have given me. Until I knew you, I knew nothing, my darling. I fought for my country, and I performed my duty to my family and friends. I took mistresses, and I gambled, fenced, and raced my horses, behaved, as a gentleman ought—but I did not know what true happiness was. You have made a better man of me. My happiness lies in you and the children we shall have, including the daughter we already have.”

“Oh, Paul,” she whispered. “You said that Richard had behaved as a man of honor, but I think you are the most honorable man I know.” “If a man hath not honor he hath nothing,” Paul smiled. “That is our family motto—did you know that?” She shook her head and he leaned back in his chair once more, a flicker of pain crossing his face. “My mother reminded me of it when she apologized for being unkind to you. She has always guarded our family honor in her way, but I think I made her understand that there is a greater kind of honor.” Hester shook her head, the tears trickling down her cheeks. She knew that she could not argue against him now. Paul had decided that he would love and honor her, and if he was brave enough to accept that it might mean them being shunned by society, then so was she. She stood up as Charlotte reappeared carrying a tray with the brandy decanter. Anna followed her into the room with another tray that held glasses, sweet biscuits and a jug of sweet wine. She set it down, bobbed a curtsey, and sent a look of approval her master’s way, then went out. “I trust you have it all settled between you,” Charlotte said and busied herself pouring brandy for Paul and wine for Hester and herself. “I thought we might drink a toast to your happiness, my dears—since we were so rudely interrupted the last time.” Paul took the glass and lifted it in salute, a smile of satisfaction, and perhaps the merest hint of triumph on his lips. “Thank you, Charlotte. Indeed, I have much to thank you for. Had you not taken Hester to Bath we might never have met again.” “Again?” “We met briefly when I lost my way,” Paul explained. “I think I fell in love with her then, though she looked like a startled fawn and I thought she might run away.” “I had been warned not to speak to strangers,” Hester said. “I hardly saw anyone but my family and a few of my mother’s friends.” “Well, I am glad that I was able to bring you together,” Charlotte said and sipped her wine. “May I know what your immediate plans are?” “We shall stay here for a few days,” Paul said. “I was warned the journey would knock me back, but I did not expect to feel quite this weak. So we shall wait a few days and then travel to my own estate. Sylvia is waiting for us there and we shall spend some time with her. It was my intention to travel on to Italy—but I have changed my mind. I think we shall go up to London for a few weeks first . . .” “But, Paul,” Hester said, looking at him in apprehension, “do you think we should?” “I have no intention of hiding my head in shame and nor need you, Hester. We shall be bold and then we shall see who our friends are—and our enemies.” “Bravo!” Charlotte said. “I think that is an excellent idea. I shall give a large party and invite all my friends—and you shall be the guests of honor.” “Perhaps no one will accept,” Hester said doubtfully. “Then I shall save a great deal of money in the future,” Charlotte replied and laughed. “We shall see, my dears.” “I thank you, dear Charlotte,” Paul said. “I believe you have hit upon the very idea.” He drained his glass and set it down. “And now I think I should like to lie down for a while—if I may, Hester?” “Yes, of course,” she said. “I shall take you to my room. It will do you good to rest for a while.” ****

Paul was resting when Hester looked at him later that afternoon. He was lying with his eyes closed, but he opened them at once, holding his hand out to her. “Please, come and sit with me for a moment, my love.” “Did I wake you? I wondered if you would like to have your supper brought up here, or if you would prefer to dine downstairs?” “I was not asleep, but I believe I may have slept for a while,” he said and smiled as she sat on the edge of the bed. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” “I think you may have done,” she said her eyes bright with an echoing laughter. “Charlotte is very pleased with you, Paul. She was afraid that you would not come, and I think she meant to try and persuade me to live with her. She has been very good to me.” “And earns my gratitude for it,” Paul said. “Where would you have gone had she not given you this house?” “I do not know,” Hester said, taking the hand he offered. “I suppose I might have tried to find lodgings somewhere.” “And I might have had a devil of a job to find you,” he said, his fingers curling tightly about hers. “Promise me you will never run off like that again—no matter what anyone says to you?” “I promise,” she said. “I went for your sake, but I see that I was wrong.” He sat forward to kiss her, but a little moan of pain broke from his lips. “Do not, my love. I think you must have your supper in bed, for you are in too much pain.” “My valet will give me something to help,” Paul said. “He insisted on accompanying me, and I was forced to let him because I had been a little rude to him recently. I hope he will not put your household out too much.” “I think Charlotte said he had been lodged in a room behind the butler’s pantry. We have no butler now so it was empty.” She watched him wince as he swung his legs to the floor. “Are you sure you wish to get up?” “Yes, quite sure. You go down now, Hester, and I shall join you in ten minutes. I would ask you to dine with me here, but we must not neglect Charlotte.” “No, we must not neglect Charlotte,” Hester said. “I owe her a great deal.” “I owe her a great deal, too,” Paul said. “So I shall come down, and we shall spend a quiet evening together. Then, will you come back to bed with me?” “I had thought you might wish to sleep alone because of your shoulder?” Hester said, looking at him with the softness of love in her face. “Then you thought wrong,” he said and his eyes gleamed. “This may not be exactly the wedding night I had planned, but be it what it may, I do not intend to spend it alone.” **** “I shall say goodnight to you,” Charlotte said when the tea tray had been dispensed with at nine o’clock.. “ I am tired after my journey, and you look exhausted, Paul. Take your husband to bed, Hester, for otherwise he will make himself ill again.” She smiled at them both, gathered her belongings and swept from the room. Paul stood up and held out his hand to Hester. “I believe your cousin’s advice is sound, my love. Shall we go up?” “Yes, of course. My housekeeper has prepared the chamber next to mine for your use.” She smiled as he began to shake his head. “You may wish for some attention by your valet before you come to me. I think your shoulder is paining you again?”

“Like the very devil,” Paul agreed with a wry smile. “Curse it, I wanted things to be very different. I am as weak as a kitten.” “We may lie close to one another,” Hester said and gave a soft laugh. “Do not frown and fret so, my dearest one. Your shoulder will heal in time, and we are lucky that we still have time. You might have been killed.” “How sensible you are, my love,” he said. “Very well, I shall allow Hernshaw to tend to my shoulder while your maid helps you to undress—but I shall not be long in coming to you.” Hester smiled as they parted. She allowed Anna to help her into a soft, lacy nightgown and then, after dismissing her, sat at her dressing mirror to brush her hair. She was still there when Paul came to her. She laid her brush down, but he picked it up, and using his uninjured arm, began to brush it for her. “I have dreamed of doing this, of being with you this way, my darling,” he said and the look he gave her was tender and loving. “I know that we made love on our wedding eve, but that side of love is only a part of what I feel for you, Hester. I want to spend my days and my nights with you, to have and to hold for the rest of our lives.” He laid down the brush, and Hester stood. She moved away from her stool and then towards him, slipping her arms about his waist and laying her head against his chest. He held her loosely with one arm, the other hand caressing her hair. “I love you so much, Paul,” she whispered and looked up at him. “Come to bed now, my dearest.” When they lay side by side, their lips touching, he caressed the satin arch of her back with his fingertips. For some time, they were satisfied to kiss and touch, but as their hunger grew stronger, Paul gathered her to him, wanting to feel the softness of her body pressed against him, but hearing the stifled groan he could not quite control, Hester pushed him gently back against the pillows. “Let me take the lead this time, my dearest,” she whispered. “I believe there is a way that we may take our pleasure without causing you too much pain.” She bent over him, beginning to kiss his chest, laving his nipples with her tongue as he had done for her, working downward to the shadowed arrow of hair that led to his throbbing masculinity. She kissed his naval, and then licked delicately up the side of his spear-hard, blood-engorged organ, making him gasp and moan with pleasure. “Sit astride me, Hester,” he said in a husky voice that sent little thrills of desire winging though her body. She did as he asked, and holding her about the waist, he helped her to lift herself, and then slowly, very slowly, she came down on him, easing the huge, throbbing length of him into her silken sheath. “That is so good . . . so good . . .” he murmured as she bent forward to kiss his lips, her hair dangling into his face. After allowing him to kiss her breasts for a moment or two, she sat back, and then, lifting herself from him, she slowly came down on him again. “My God, Hester . . . .” He seized her by the waist, driving her down and lifting her again as the heat took them, driving them faster and faster until with a great shout, he came, and she came shuddering after. Then she bent over him, kissing his lips once more, before sitting back and looking at him with delight. “I fear you forgot your shoulder,” she scolded as she slid from him to lie at his side, her face buried in the dark hairs on his chest, tasting the salt of her sweat and his with her tongue. “I meant to save you pain, but you were too impatient.” “If you but knew how much I have wanted you,” he murmured against her hair. “When I am myself again, I shall show you just how much I adore you, my love.”

“You must rest now and get strong,” she said, holding him. “Sleep now, my darling.” “You will not leave me while I sleep?” “I shall never leave you again,” she promised and knew that even as she spoke, he was slipping away into a restful sleep. She smiled in the darkness as she held him, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. He was at peace now, and so was she. She would not need to doubt her place as his wife again. It did not matter what others said of her, Paul loved her—and to her surprise, she had discovered that he also needed her, perhaps as much as she needed him. “You were wrong, Papa,” she whispered into the darkness. “I have found a decent man to love me. And I think he is a better man than you ever were.” Tears of happiness and love trickled from the corner of her eye as she let the past go finally. There would be no more shame, only the happiness of loving and being loved. **** Charlotte left them the next morning, for as she said, they were on their honeymoon and did not need her to play gooseberry. “My advice is to rest here for a few more days,” she told them, tapping Paul playfully on the arm with her fan. “You look better this morning. I believe Hester must be a good nurse. Now, I must go. Remember that you are promised to me for the end of next month.” Paul stood with an arm about his wife’s waist as they waved her off. Then he looked down at Hester and smiled. “Your cousin is a sensible woman. I think we shall call our first child after her—Charles for a boy, and of course Charlotte if we have a daughter.” “We already have a daughter.” “Yes, but she is called Sylvia, and I do not think we should change that, for there are enough changes in her life. I am sure that you are longing to see her, dearest, and I believe that I may be able to travel tomorrow.” “Are you certain?” Hester asked, looking up at him anxiously. “I do not want you to make yourself ill. I have waited so many years that I can wait a few days more.” “I feel much better this morning,” Paul said and dropped a kiss on her nose. “It is being with you, my darling. Yes, my shoulder still pains me, but I am no longer in fear that I may lose you.” “I should have stayed to comfort you,” she said with some regret. “You did what you thought right,” Paul said. “I understand and honor you for your decision, wrong as it may have been. Let us speak no more of the past. The future is what concerns us now. It is a pleasant day. Let us go for a little walk. It will give us both an appetite, and we may spend the afternoon exactly as we please.” Hester saw the mischief in his eyes, and smiled inwardly. She could not doubt that he was on the mend. “Yes, if you wish it,” she said and took his hand. “I am your wife—yours to command as you choose, my dearest.” “Ah,” Paul said and his eyes danced with laughter. “I think I like the sound of that.” **** They set out on their journey the next day. It had been decided that they would travel in easy stages, which meant they would be at least four days on the road. Paul rode in the

carriage with her for the first two days, but on the third, he decided to ride part of the way on horseback, and Hester joined him. It was wonderful to be riding together again, even though she noticed that he was a little pale and strained that evening. But in the morning, he was refreshed and again rode for part of the way. They stayed one last night at an inn, sending word ahead that they were to be expected the next morning. As the time drew nearer for her meeting with her daughter, Hester grew increasingly nervous. What would her daughter think of her? Would she hate her for having abandoned her as a child? Paul took her hand as the carriage drew up outside his house, which was a lovely Queen Anne building, the roof long and low and thatched. Not a rambling mansion, it was a pretty, family home for which any woman would happily care. Hester knew at once that she would be content here—if only her child would forgive her. “She is a sweet child despite the hardship of her life,” Paul said. “Courage, my love. I am sure she will adore you, as I do.” A woman of middle years was waiting with a handful of servants at the front of the house to greet them. Hester was introduced to Mrs. Bradbury and the various maids, Cook, two footmen, and Mr. Hadleigh, a smiling elderly man, not in the least stately, who was the butler. She learned later that he was not above giving a hand wherever needed, for this was a small, close-knit household, which was very different from the house of Paul’s parents. “Well, there you are, sir—my lady,” Mrs. Bradbury said bobbing a curtsey to her. “Here safe and sound at last. And what’s this we hear, Captain Crawford? You’ve been getting yourself into trouble again, just like when you were a lad. You’d best let me take a look at that shoulder for you, and you shall have one of my special rum possets by and by. That will set you up. We’ll soon have him chipper again, my lady.” “Thank you, Mrs. Bradbury,” Hester said. “I fear my husband’s shoulder has been paining him for a while, though he will not confess to it, of course.” “He was always the same as a lad,” the friendly woman told her, smiling and nodding her chin. “But we shall put him right, my dear.” Paul looked on, an eyebrow quirked, a quiver of amusement on his lips. “And how is my daughter, Mrs. Bradbury?” “Why, she’s a little love,” the housekeeper replied. “High-spirited at times and into mischief, but what else would you expect, sir? You weren’t exactly obedient yourself.” Clearly the household believed Paul’s story. Hester said nothing, for she was new here and must find her way. “Where is she? May I see her?” “I thought Miss Robinson would have brought her down to greet us,” Paul said, frowning slightly. “The child was overexcited, sir. Miss Robinson thought it best that the meeting should be in private, when you’ve had time to settle after your journey.” “Very well,” Paul accepted the answer with a nod. “We will have some refreshments in the back parlor please, Mrs. Bradbury, and something for the child. Ask one of the maids to step up and beg Miss Robinson to bring my daughter down.” Hester followed Paul into the house. He led her to a small parlor at the back of the house, which was south facing and looked out on a large and beautiful garden. At the far end of the well-kept lawn, there was a summerhouse, crowded borders of herbs and flowers to either side and here and there an ancient tree. From the direction of one of those trees, the sound of childish laughter came through the open French windows.

“Paul, I believe she must be in that tree,” Hester said, moving towards the open door. “I think Miss Robinson is trying to coax her down.” “She shouldn’t let Sylvia climb trees.” “Why not?” Hester said and smiled as he raised his brows. “I did—and I am perfectly sure that you did, my love.” “That was different.” He laughed as he saw the look in her eyes. “Well, she is your daughter. Go and see what she is up to for yourself if you wish.” Hester nodded, for it was what she had intended. She went out of the door and began to walk unhurriedly across the lawn. A very anxious-looking governess became aware that her new mistress was approaching, and she bobbed a hurried curtsey and launched into an apology. “I have been trying to get her to come in and change for the past half an hour, my lady. She is wilful at times, though usually she is very good at her lessons.” “I am glad to hear that Sylvia is good at her lessons,” Hester said and smiled. “But we all need to play as well as learn, Miss Robinson.” She walked to stand just beneath the tree and look up. Sylvia was perched on a substantial branch just a few feet from the ground and did not look to be in any danger of falling. The child was looking down at her now, her eyes wide and dark with a hint of apprehension. Hester’s throat caught with emotion for she had lovely dark curly hair and a beautiful cream and roses complexion. “Hello, Sylvia,” she said. “Is it nice up there?” “Yes,” the child called down. “I like trees. They are nicer than people, but Mrs. Bradbury is nice too. She gives me biscuits and milk to drink sometimes.” “We are going to have some biscuits in the parlor soon,” Hester said. “Would you like to come down and share them?” “I don’t know. Miss Robinson is cross with me for climbing trees. She might not let me have any biscuits if I come down.” “Oh, I think she will if we ask her nicely,” Hester said and turned to the apprehensive governess. “I think Sylvia must be forgiven this time, don’t you? I expect she was a little nervous because we were coming.” “Yes, my lady, if you say so.” Hester looked up the tree once more. “Shall you come down, Sylvia, or shall I come up there so that we can talk?” The child tipped her head to one side. “I don’t think you can climb trees, can you?” “I used to climb them when I was very young,” Hester said. “When I grew up, I decided that I would rather wear pretty clothes. I can climb up to you, but I may tear my dress. Shall I risk it?” “No, it is too pretty,” Sylvia said and started to scramble down. In seconds, she was standing looking up at Hester and touching the pale green silk of her gown. “I’ve never seen a dress as pretty as this one.” “I bought it as part of my wedding clothes,” Hester told her. “Do you know, Sylvia, I believe I have some more of this material. We might make a gown for you, if you would like?” “Could it be just like yours? With sleeves that puff out and ribbons?” “Yes, if that is what you would like,” Hester said. “But it would not be for climbing trees in you see so you might not like it.” “I am getting too grown up for climbing trees,” Sylvia said. “What did you do when you grew up, apart from wearing pretty dresses?” She eyed Hester curiously. “Someone said you were going to be my mother. Are you? And is Captain Crawford my father?” Her accent had

some rough country edges, but the intelligence shone out of her eyes, making Hester’s own eyes prick with tears. “What a lot of questions, Sylvia,” Miss Robinson said. “I am sure her ladyship needs to rest after her journey.” “Oh, I am not in the least tired, though I thank you for your concern, Miss Robinson.” She smiled at the governess and at Sylvia. “Well, when I became too old for climbing trees, I read lots of books, I learned to sew and do embroidery. I played the harpsichord, and I also made sketches in a little book. I liked going for walks. Sometimes I played a game of cricket with my brother—and I learned to dance. That was great fun, Sylvia.” She held out her hand to the child. “Shall we go up to the house now? Your papa is waiting for us—and yes, I am your mama.” Sylvia gazed up at her. “Are you my real mama—or just someone who pretends to be?” “I am your real mama,” Hester said. “Can you forgive me for not looking after you all these years, Sylvia? I—I wasn’t well at the time you were born you see, and they took you away from me. I didn’t know, because they told me you had died. It was only a little time before your papa brought you here that I knew it wasn’t true.” “I have dreamed about you for years,” Sylvia told her, reaching out to take the hand she offered and curl her small fingers about it. “I prayed to God to send you to take me away. I prayed hard, but it never happened—and then one day Captain Crawford came.” “I expect our prayers are not always answered in the way we think,” Hester said. “But I am here now, and this is to be my home. It is your home too, Sylvia. Sometimes we may go to another place for a while, but even if you do not always come with us, you will be cared for here—and then we shall come back. I promise you that both your papa and I will always look after you and love you.” Sylvia stopped walking and looked up at her, her eyes wide. “I had a pet mouse once. I fed it and cared for it, and I loved it—but then the man who called himself my father gave it to the cat. My mouse died, and I have never loved anything since.” “You will learn to be happy,” Hester told her. “We are all here to help you. Mrs. Bradbury, Miss Robinson, your papa, and me. And if you would like a pet mouse, I shall see if we can find one for you.” “I think I would like a puppy. There are some at the farm down the lane. I asked Mrs. Jackson—she is the farmer’s wife—if I could have one, and she said they were mongrels and she didn’t think Captain Crawford would approve.” “Who is taking my name in vain?” Paul came out to the terrace to greet them. “Have you seen a puppy you like, you little monkey?” “Yes, Papa.” Sylvia broke free of Hester and ran to him, laughing as he caught her and swung her off her feet. It was clear that they were already at ease together, though Sylvia had not been certain of her place here. “He is black and white and looks as if he has a patch over his eye. He is what Mrs. Jackson says is the runt of the litter because he is so little—but he licked my face when I picked him up, and he cried when I left him.” “Then I think we must go and fetch him this afternoon,” Paul said. “Clearly it is a match made in heaven, and we must make sure that no one else gets him first.” Sylvia eyed him seriously. “Mrs. Jackson said no one would want him because he is the runt, and he might have to be got rid of. You won’t let that happen, will you?” “No, indeed. I think we must go at once,” he said, took her hand, and cast a rueful smile at Hester. “You will excuse us, my love? I think rescuing a puppy from certain death takes precedent over tea and cakes, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” Hester said, a smile on her lips as she watched them walk off together, the child skipping by the large man’s side. She turned back to the house and went in, Her throat caught and tears came to her eyes, and then she turned to see that Mrs. Bradbury had come into the parlor and a maid carrying the tray of tea and biscuits. “I believe the rescue of a puppy has won out over biscuits. But I shall take a dish of tea and nibble at one myself, thank you.” “It does the heart good to see them together,” Mrs Bradbury said comfortably. “She is the image of him, ma’am—and of you, if I may say so. It’s a happy ending to your story, and that’s a fact.” Hester was so shocked that she could only stare as the maid put down the tray and was ushered out by her superior. “You . . . know?” she said, finding a voice at last. “Well, it stands to reason, my lady. The captain explained as how your family thought you too young—and him away to the wars. Like a fairytale it is you meeting again after all this time, but all’s well that ends well, that’s what I say. Ring for me when you need me, my lady.” Hester nodded, sitting down to pour herself a dish of tea. Her hand trembled a little, as she saw how easily the tale had come about, and how well it fitted. Just how Paul had managed to convince his faithful servants that it was a touching love story she did not know, but perhaps it was better than the shocking truth. She was just finishing her tea and thinking about ringing the bell for the housekeeper when she saw Paul and Sylvia returning, the child carrying a struggling puppy in her arms. Getting up, she went to meet them. “Look, Mama,” Sylvia cried. “This is Hercules. Isn’t he lovely?” “Hercules?” Hester’s eyes met Paul’s in amusement for the tiny scrap did not look as if he could carry the weight of the world on his back as Hercules had in the legend of old. “Yes, he is quite beautiful. I like him very much.” She bent to pick him up and had her face covered with enthusiastic licks. “You must teach him to behave, Sylvia. Make him understand that he should not make a puddle in the house—or we shall be in trouble with Mrs. Bradbury.” “May he come up to the nursery with me?” Hester looked to Paul for guidance and received a look of resignation. “Yes, but you must have a box of earth for him to start, and you must take him into the garden every morning to help him to learn that that is the proper place to do his duty.” “Oh, I shall look after him, I promise. I am going to ask Mrs. Bradbury for something to feed him.” Hester smiled as the child ran off. “Our daughter is all that I could have wished for and more. We are very lucky that she is as natural and sweet as she is, are we not?” “Miss Robinson has improved her speech, and I understand she is quick enough to learn.” He smiled at her. “But we are lucky that her spirit was not crushed, for her foster father was not the best of guardians for a young girl, though his wife had been a lady’s maid and was better mannered. I daresay we have her to thank for Sylvia’s survival.” “I must send her a small gift,” Hester said and then saw the look in his eyes. “But I suppose you have already done so?” “You may do as you please, my love—but I should keep your money for yourself and the child.”

“I have a gift for her in my trunk,” Hester said. “It is a little French fashion doll, which I think she may like—but for the moment, the puppy is sufficient. I shall not bribe her, but I hope that she will learn to love us in time.” “I think Sylvia has a lot of love to give, but like her mother, she had no one to give it to until now. I believe she will be very like you as she grows, Hester.” “But she is also like you,” Hester said with a smile. “Mrs. Bradbury is convinced that we have a love child, Paul. I wonder why.” “I dare say it pleases her to think it,” Paul said, laughter in his eyes. “I think we shall say nothing more to anyone, my love. Let the world decide for itself.”

Chapter Thirteen “Where are we going, Mama?” Sylvia asked. She was wearing a carriage gown of greenstriped silk that was a miniature copy of her mother’s, and a velvet bonnet. Over her gown, she had a brown velvet pelisse and York tan gloves on her hands. She carried a large wicker basket, in which sat Hercules, a green velvet collar about his neck. “Papa says it is a long way and that I must be good.” “We are going to London to meet some friends,” Hester told her. “The Countess of Danbury is to give a large party, and we are to be guests of honor—your papa and me. But you will meet her, and she will be kind to you, because she was always kind to me.” “I shall like her if she is nice,” Sylvia said. Miss Robinson was beckoning to her to join her in the second carriage. “I am glad my governess is coming too. She is teaching me French, and I like it. I like to draw too, Mama—and Miss Robinson says I may have dancing lessons next year, if you agree.” “Well, we shall have to see how good you can be,” Hester said and smiled indulgently. It was very difficult not to spoil her lovely daughter, though she was trying to be sensible. “Run along now, my dearest, and do not plague Miss Robinson too much with your questions.” Hester climbed into the carriage, where her maid was already seated waiting for her. Paul had chosen to ride for the first part of their journey and was giving last minute instructions to the grooms. “She is a lucky little girl,” Anna said as Hester settled herself. “Most girls of her age are left in the nursery when their parents go visiting.” “Yes, I know. I am afraid that we may spoil her,” Hester said with a rueful smile. “But I truly cannot bear to be parted from her so soon. Besides, Paul has decided that we shall visit my mother and his parents on our way to town—and he wants them to meet Sylvia.” Hester was feeling a little nervous about the visits and the party that Charlotte was giving for them. At home, she had met with no resistance from their neighbors, who had lost no time in welcoming them home. Hester suspected that everyone believed the tale that Mrs. Bradbury had got into her head, and apparently because Paul was so well liked, people were prepared to accept that he had a love child. Indeed, everyone had treated Hester kindly, and they had dined at three houses in the neighborhood, besides giving a well-attended dinner themselves. “Are you ready, my love?” Paul asked looking into the carriage. “I think we must be off if we are to reach Mrs. Weston’s house this evening.” “Yes, of course,” Hester agreed. “Mama wrote that she would like to see us.” And she had requested that she might be allowed to see her granddaughter, something that had moved Hester to tears for she knew what it must have cost her mother. **** The visit to Mrs. Weston’s was successful but brief. They stayed overnight, but left again in the morning. Coming out to see them off, Mrs. Weston clung to her daughter and granddaughter in turn, the tears trickling down her cheeks. “You will come again soon?” she asked, clearly reluctant to see them leave. “I miss you, Hester—and I love your little girl.” “You must come and stay with us soon, Mama,” Hester said and hugged her. “Thank you for forgiving me at last.”

“There was nothing to forgive,” her mother said and looked ashamed. “I am the one who should beg for your forgiveness, Hester. I wronged you shamefully.” “Sylvia suffered the most,” Hester told her, “but as you see, she has a very forgiving nature. She is happy, and I am very happy—so there is nothing to forgive.” “Then please believe that I love you both,” Mrs. Weston said. “And I shall come to visit when I can.” Hester kissed her cheek and left her. She was glad to have her mother’s love, though there had been times when she had sorely needed it only to be denied. Her own daughter had been lonely and unloved, but that would never be allowed to happen again. Hester lifted her head proudly, for she knew that they would spend the next night at the Longstanton’s home and she was not sure what kind of a reception she would receive there. **** It was quite late in the evening when they arrived. Dinner would have been over long ago, and it would not have surprised Hester if her mother-in-law had retired to bed. She expected that only the servants would be up to greet them, but when Paul carried the sleeping child into the hall, followed by Anna carrying Hercules in his basket, she was surprised to discover that Lady Longstanton was waiting for them. She took one look at the child and smiled. “Take her up to the nursery, Paul. I shall meet her in the morning. I wish to speak to Hester alone.” “Mother.” There was a warning note in his voice, but she shook her head at him. “You have no need to fear me, Paul—nor you, Hester. I have waited up this evening to beg your pardon for what I said to you that day. It was thoughtless and unkind of me, and I have regretted it.” “But you had every right to be angry,” Hester said as she followed her mother-in-law into the little sitting room to the right of the hall. “I do not blame you. In my heart, I thought your objections valid or I should not have left Paul. I believed that it would be better for him if the marriage were annulled—but he would not have it so.” “No, of course not,” Lady Longstanton said. “He loves you and he wants you as his wife—and indeed, I want you to be my daughter. I regretted my harsh words to you almost as soon as you had left. At first, I thought only of the shame to our family that this scandal would create, but then I realized that we are not a family if we do not stand together. No matter what others may say or think, I shall welcome you here, Hester. And I ask you to forgive me for sending you away.” “You did not need to send me. I went because I, too, believed it for the best—but Paul refused to allow it. He does not care what others think and he has taken my daughter as his own. Sylvia is ours and the world may make of it what they will.” “She is your love child,” Lady Longstanton said with a faint smile. “Everyone says it. The tale is that you fell in love years ago, but your father would not let you marry because you were too young. He forbade you to meet Paul again and kept you virtually a prisoner— but after he died, your cousin took you to Bath, where you met and fell in love again.” “A part of it is very true,” Hester said. “But Sylvia was not Paul’s child until he adopted her. Now she belongs to us both equally, because we both adore her.” “And I can see why,” Lady Longstanton said. “She is beautiful. I imagine you must spoil her?” “We try not to,” Hester said. “But it is not easy because she is a very loveable child. After the way she has been brought up, we consider ourselves fortunate that she is as

spirited as she is, and I fear that puppy is not yet housetrained. I do hope he won’t make a mess on your carpets.” “As I recall, Paul had several puppies when he was growing up. I dare say they made puddles a few times, and the carpets survived.” Lady Longstanton smiled. “If we had nothing else to trouble us, we should not need to worry much.” “You are very kind,” Hester said. “But I believe we may have greater obstacles to climb before we are done. You know that my cousin is to give a party at which we are to be guests of honor. My fear is that few of her guests will come, and if they do . . .” She smothered a sigh. “If we are ostracized by Society, it may be uncomfortable for you, Lady Longstanton.” “I do not think it—but will you not call me Ellie, as you did before? I know that I have not deserved it, but I shall try to make up for my unkindness.” “I shall call you Ellie if you truly wish it,” Hester said. “I hesitated to do so, because I am not the woman you thought me when you invited it.” “You are exactly what I thought you—warm, loving, and honest,” Ellie said smiling at her. “As for the rest, it is forgotten.” “Then we shall all be friends again,” Hester said. She leaned forward to kiss Ellie’s cheek. “And now I must not keep you from your bed, for it is late. We shall talk again in the morning.” **** In the morning, Lady Longstanton was properly introduced to Sylvia as her second grandmother. For a child who had, until recently, had no real parents and no one to love her, adjusting to all the affection that was suddenly being showered on her was difficult, and she was a little shy of this grand lady. However, sweetmeats, kind words, and a doll that Lady Longstanton somehow seemed to have put by went a long way to breaking down barriers. Sylvia was content to let her new grandmama kiss her when they took their leave. “We shall see you in town I dare say,” Ellie told Hester as they left. “Countess Danbury sent an open invitation to the family so you need not fear that no one will be there, my dear.” Hester smiled and thanked her. At least there would be one or two friendly faces at Charlotte’s party. They were to stay at the Longstantons’ town house, a large, important house on several stories in a fashionable square at the heart of London. Hester was surprised to see that several invitation cards lay on the silver salver in the hall. It was obviously known that they were expected, but when she opened them, she discovered that all but one was from her husband’s family. Uncle Staunton had invited them to a race meeting, where a cold collation was to be served in a marquee. One of Paul’s cousins was giving a card party, and an elderly aunt had arranged a soiree in their honor. Their kindness touched Hester, but she intrigued by the invitation with a gold banding at the edges from Lady Jersey, inviting them to an informal dance the evening following Countess Danbury’s affair. However, Lady Jersey’s invitation was the only one other than from family members to arrive in the two days they spent in London before Charlotte’s evening. Hester was a little nervous about her reception should she meet people she had known in Bath, who had been present at her wedding.

On the morning after their arrival, she took Sylvia to the park for a walk, accompanied by her maid. They spent some time watching the ducks on the Serpentine and playing a game of catch ball, and it was only as they were leaving that Hester realized she was being watched. Turning, she saw that two ladies were sitting in an open carriage and staring at her intently. One of them was Lady Blackwater, and the look in her eyes was openly hostile. Hester lifted her chin as she passed them. She had no need to apologize to that lady nor would she. Henry Blackwater had first kidnapped her, and then ruined her wedding day. He had done his best to murder Paul, and had deserved his fate. Yet, Lady Blackwater’s hostility was so strong that it sent a shiver down Hester’s spine. Paul had gone to his club that morning, and he was still out when she returned to the house. Hester ate her nuncheon with Sylvia in the nursery, and then went down to the front parlor. It was at about three in the afternoon when a maid came to ask her if she was at home. “Who is calling, Mary?” “Lady Blackwater, ma’am.” “I see.” Hester hesitated for she knew that this was not a friendly call. “Very well, please ask her to come through.” She rose to her feet, crossing to the window to look out at the street, her stomach tying itself in knots. She turned as Mary announced the visitor. “Lady Blackwater. What may I do for you?” “You may take yourself back where you came from,” Lady Blackwater said coldly. “You are not fit to be seen in decent society, madam—and your husband is a murderer. I intend that he shall be brought to justice.” “I beg your pardon, ma’am, but I believe you have that wrong,” Hester said with calm dignity. “Your nephew drew a second pistol and tried to murder Paul. Someone shot to prevent that but I cannot say with any certainty who that person was. I know only that it was not my husband.” “I have heard some absurd concocted tale,” Lady Blackwater snorted her disbelief. “But I do not believe it. I shall see that the culprit is brought to justice—and as for you, whore that you are—if you dare to show your face in public, I shall cut you. I imagine that there are many others who will follow my lead.” “You may of course do as you wish,” Hester replied quietly. A little pulse was beating in her throat but apart from that she gave no sign of being disturbed. “However, I do not intend to be cowed by your threats. I am what I am and everyone must make up their own mind whether or not they wish to know me.” “No decent woman will acknowledge you!” “Perhaps you are right,” Hester said, “but we shall see. Countess Danbury gives a large party tomorrow evening. I shall be there, and I shall also be at Lady Jersey’s dance the following night.” “Well, you have been warned,” Lady Blackwater’s mouth curved in spite. “You will have only yourself to blame when everyone ignores you.” “I thank you for your warning, ma’am,” Hester said. “You must forgive me if I ignore it.” “You are an impudent girl with no morals,” the outraged matron said and stalked from the room. Hester sat, her knees trembling. She had faced her enemy down, but she felt sick inside. She did not imagine that Charlotte had invited Lady Blackwater to her evening, but she would certainly be at Lady Jersey’s dance.

**** Hester wore a pretty pale green gown for her cousin’s gathering, a choker of pearls with an emerald clasp and a pear-shaped drop at her throat, and matching drops in her ears. She had a new pair of white evening gloves, and her slippers were of the softest kid, peeping beneath the hem of her gown. Her hair had been dressed very simply in a knot at her nape, though little wisps of hair curled about her face. “You look beautiful, my darling,” Paul said when she was ready. “I am very proud of my wife, Hester. Just remember that whatever happens this evening.” “Yes, I shall remember,” she said and smiled. She had not told him about Lady Blackwater’s threats, for she did not wish to bother him with such insults. The lady’s threats against Paul were futile, for there had been too many witnesses for her accusations to carry weight. But Hester had no doubt that she would do her best to ostracize her if she could. Her nerves were fluttering as they drove to Charlotte’s house. She had asked them to arrive early so that they might meet the guests with her. Hester’s stomach tightened as she took her place at the head of the main stairs, up which all the guests must come to pass into the large reception rooms. “You look charming,” Charlotte said and kissed her cheek. “Do not be nervous, dearest. I have already had several kind replies, and I am certain that others will simply arrive.” “I do hope so. I would not have you go to all this trouble for nothing,” Hester said. She smiled bravely even though she was far from calm inside. The first guests began to arrive ten minutes after she and Paul had taken their places with Charlotte. Uncle Staunton was the very first. He kissed Hester’s hand and told her she was more beautiful than ever, then clapped Paul on the shoulder and told him he was a lucky dog. Two minutes later, three of Paul’s cousins arrived together, bringing a guest with them. The guest was an earl of some repute, who congratulated Paul and wished Hester happiness. Two elderly aunts followed them up the stairs, and made a great show of kissing Paul and Hester. His parents arrived next, and Ellie embraced Hester, choosing to stand beside her to help receive the other guests. They were arriving thick and fast now, and though the majority of them were Paul’s relations, other guests had begun to swell the throng, ladies and gentlemen, old and young, and all of them greeted Hester with a warm smile or a look of approval. Her throat tightened with emotion as she thought how kind they all were. She no longer worried that her cousin’s evening would fail and began to wonder where Charlotte would put them all. “I am not sure that I invited everyone who is here,” her cousin whispered to her as they moved into the reception rooms. The formal greeting was over, and late arrivals would simply drift in as they pleased. “However, there is plenty of food, and I am sure some of these gentlemen will not stay long. They have simply come to greet you, Hester.” “Why would they do that?” she asked, for already some of the gentlemen were leaving to go on to other engagements, possibly a venue where they could play for high stakes at the tables. Charlotte’s affair was the kind that many of them might ordinarily have considered too insipid. However, they were still drifting in, and all of them greeted first their hostess and then Hester, before making a circle of the rooms and then departing. “And why would they come if they have no invitation?” “To look you over,” Charlotte said and smiled. “You must know that your name is being spoken in all the clubs and drawing rooms. I do not say that everyone without exception

approves, but I believe there are a great many who think you brave, and others who find your story romantic.” Hester could hardly believe it, but as the evening wore on and more and more uninvited guests continued to make a brief appearance, she could not doubt that she was causing a stir. Uncle Staunton had taken up a position at her side that he refused to relinquish all evening, and Hester realized that he had appointed himself her guardian. Anyone who had tried to insult her would have received the rough edge of his tongue, but in fact, she was offered nothing but kindness. Several ladies made a point of telling her when they were at home, and others delivered verbal invitations to their own affairs, promising that a written card would be delivered the next day. It was a very happy evening for Hester, and she came close to tears once or twice as people went out of their way to seek her out and show their approval. “I believe we can say that it has been a success,” Charlotte told her when the guests began to thin towards the end. “You will have several invitations in the next day or so, and if some choose to ignore you—well, you must just accept it, my dearest. I think most people will be pleased to invite you to their homes—and as for the gentlemen, I think you can safely say that they entirely approve.” “I am glad your evening was a success,” Hester replied. She had been impressed by how many people had actually come, far more than her cousin had invited, she was sure. However, there had been some notable exceptions. The hostesses who ruled society and were responsible for giving vouchers for Almacks, that most exclusive of high society clubs, had not been amongst the flow that passed through her cousin’s reception rooms. Without their approval, she could only flutter at the edge of Society for the inner circles were tightly controlled. The big test would come at Lady Jersey’s dance, for she was one of the patrons of Almacks and, if she wished, could give Hester the nod—or finish her with a look of disapproval. **** “I believe that went very well,” Paul told her as they were driven home later. “You managed it beautifully, my darling, and I was congratulated on my wife all evening.” “By the gentlemen,” Hester said, smiling at him. “I am aware that they approved, for they think our story a fine romance—but what of the ladies? I mean those ladies who did not come this evening.” “That we shall discover tomorrow,” Paul said, his brow wrinkling. “Sally Jersey is a friend of my mother’s. I am sure she would not have invited us if she did not intend to show her approval—but there may be some high sticklers who will not unbend. Providing most accept you, we shall brush through well enough, my love.” “Yes, of course. At least, I have made a start,” Hester said, though she knew in her heart that the next evening could undo all the good work her cousin had done. If those who ruled Society decided that she was beyond the pale, many ladies who had shown friendship that evening might decide to withdraw it. And she knew that she had one determined enemy who would do her best to see that Hester was ostracized. ****

Hester was in her petticoat when Paul entered the next evening. He asked her which gown she intended to wear, and she indicated the dark blue silk that was lying on the bed waiting for her maid to help her into it. “Would you mind wearing my favorite gown instead?” Paul asked her, going over to the armoire and taking out the crimson gown that Hester had been fitted for before her wedding. It was the one she thought a little shocking for it dipped low over her breasts and was very sophisticated. “This is the one?” “It may need some pressing,” Hester said, “which means we might be a little late arriving.” “I do not think that matters,” Paul said a little smile on his lips. He gave the dress to Anna. “Forgive me if I have caused you extra work. I promise it will not happen again.” As the maid went away, Hester looked at him, a question in her eyes. “What are you up to?” she asked. “You know that is the most daring of my gowns.” “And it suits you very well,” Paul said. “You are not going to hide your charms, my love. Let the old tabbies say what they will. We shall cause a little stir if we arrive late—and that is just what I intend.” “Very well, if you are sure.” “Quite sure.” Paul moved towards her and took her into his arms. His kiss was deep and passionate, making Hester moan as she swayed into his body, her lips parting beneath the assault of his tongue. “As I told you last night, I am proud of my wife. Let them all look and make what they will of it.” “You know that this evening will be different?” “Yes, I know,” he said. “But we may as well know where we stand, Hester. Either they accept us or they don’t.” She smiled up at him, her eyes bright with laughter. With Paul at her side, she could dare anything. He left her when Anna returned with her gown. Anna helped her into it and then adjusted her hair, dressing it in a different way so that a ringlet hung down on her shoulder. “I think Captain Crawford was right,” she told her mistress. “You are stunning in that gown, my lady.” “Thank you,” Hester said, touching the ruby pendent at her throat. It had been one of Paul’s wedding gifts to her and it looked perfect with the gown, as did the matching eardrops. Paul’s eyes signalled his approval as she went downstairs. “Yes, that was exactly what I hoped for,” he murmured. “You will be the most beautiful lady present this evening, my darling.” “I do not think so,” she said and smiled. “But it is a stunning gown and is sure to cause some comment—just as the seamstress hoped when she designed it for me.” Paul offered his arm and she took it, proud of her ability to still the trembling that had started up inside her. However, her nerves increased during the carriage ride and she was beginning to tremble inside when the carriage drew up outside the large imposing house. There was a line of carriages, and they had to wait their turn to get down and walk up the red carpet to the house where their names were announced and the impressive butler indicated that they should proceed up the stairs. Hester doubted that any uninvited guests would be allowed to enter here, though the reception rooms were overflowing. Their hostess had abandoned the receiving line, for music was playing and only a few stragglers were entering ahead of Paul and Hester, who had been almost the last.

They walked into a huge drawing room that was crowded with ladies and gentlemen, the sparkle of magnificent jewels flashing in the light of chandeliers. Hester was aware of heads turning to look at her and of the buzzing whisperings. She did not think that many of Charlotte’s guests were present that evening, though she did not turn her head to look, merely held Paul’s arm and kept her head high. She noticed that some of the gentlemen acknowledged them, but the ladies appeared to be waiting for the moment. Hester felt cold all over. She had thought that Lady Jersey’s invitation meant that she had been accepted, but now she wondered if she had been invited simply so that her humiliation might be public and final. And then, as Paul paused to speak to a gentleman who had approached him in order to be introduced, a sudden silence fell over the room. Into the silence, a woman’s voice spoke loudly and with outrage. “I wonder that they have the effrontery to come here this evening. She is no better than a whore—and he is a murderer.” Hester froze. She knew without even looking that the woman was Lady Blackwater, carrying out her threat to humiliate her in public. Paul tensed beside her. She glanced at his face and saw that he was furious, and she sensed that he was about to answer Lady Blackwater’s challenge, but then a lady came towards them. She walked unhurriedly, a smile on her face, and when she drew near, she held out her hands to Hester. “My dearest, Lady Crawford,” she said in a voice loud enough to carry. “I am so delighted that you could come this evening. And you, Paul, I am very glad to see you again. They tell me wonderful things about you. Prinny says that he thinks he shall give you the order of the garter. He is here this evening, and he wants to see you both.” “Murderer!” Lady Blackwater cried again. “He does not deserve to be honored. He murdered my nephew.” “That is a lie,” a gentleman said from behind them, and Hester glanced round to see a gentleman who had attended their wedding. It was Sir Justin Maybury. “I am a justice of the peace, and I witnessed it all. It was Mr. Blackwater who attempted murder, madam, and I have had the matter investigated thoroughly. I have to tell you that Henry Blackwater traded faulty cannon to the army. It was only the quick action of Captain Crawford in withdrawing them that saved more men dying and perhaps worse. Your nephew was a blackguard and a murderer, madam, and I suggest you apologize at once.” “Apologize?” Lady Blackwater seemed to swell with indignation like a great toad. “I shall do no such thing.” “Then I am afraid I must ask you to leave,” Sally Jersey said. “I know Captain Crawford well. He saved the lives of two gentlemen dear to me during the war, and I prefer his word to yours, ma’am. Is what Sir Justin said true, Captain Crawford?” “On all counts, ma’am,” Paul said, a gleam in his eyes. “Henry Blackwater knew that I would expose him once I had the proof and so he tried to ruin and then kill me.” “That is good enough for me, as I am sure it will be for all men and women of sense,” Lady Jersey said, smiling serenely. “Please come with me now if you will, for Prinny is impatient to meet you—and your lovely wife. What a wonderful gown, Hester. You must tell me the name of your seamstress, and in return, I shall give you vouchers.” Lady Blackwater’s face looked like thunder. She tried to voice a protest, but no one listened. A buzz of laughter and chatter drowned her voice out, and several ladies and gentlemen turned their backs on her. Seeing that her outburst had gone against her, she stood for a moment glaring at the company and then stalked from the room.

“And good riddance too!” one wagg called after her, though his friends hushed him, but the feeling was mutual though unvoiced by most of the company. Lady Jersey’s words had been heard and repeated throughout the overflowing rooms, and those privileged to be near enough were amused to see that Prinny seemed as delighted with Lady Crawford as with her husband. It was soon on everyone’s lips that Captain Crawford was to receive a high honor for his bravery in the recent war. “Well,” said one lady who was generally taken to be a stickler for propriety, “it may not be quite the thing in general, but there is something rather delightful about a love story that ends well. Do you not think so, Lady Leominster?” “I believe the child is adorable,” that lady remarked. “A true love child. Had it come out when Miss Weston was unmarried I could not have approved, but she seems a nice enough gel, and he has married her. I dare say she was quite the innocent in the story. I blame her father. If he had permitted the marriage at the time . . .” Since the general opinion was much in line with this, Hester soon found herself surrounded by both ladies and gentlemen eager to congratulate her on her marriage and her husband’s impending honor. She was besieged by partners wishing to dance with her, though she chose wisely, giving her favors to friends of her husband and to the sprinkling of his relations present that evening, while reserving three for him. Uncle Staunton was one of the first to approach her for a dance. She smiled at him, because she knew he was her champion and there would always be a space on her card for him. “I did not know you would be here this evening?” “Sally is an old friend,” he told her with a wink. “I wangled an invitation once I knew you were coming. I’m not usually much for these affairs, but it was a special occasion this evening, m’dear.” “Thank you for coming to support me, dearest uncle.” “I doubt you’ll need much supporting from now on,” he said. “From what I can make out, you’re the latest rage. I think you’ll find you will have more invitations than you can manage next season.” “Yes.” Hester smiled oddly. “If we come to town next season.” “No reason why you shouldn’t.” Uncle Staunton saw the secret smile in her eyes and grinned broadly. “So that’s the way of it—always was a lucky dog, that nephew of mine. Congratulations, m’dear.” “You will not say anything just yet, please? I am not certain and I have not spoken to Paul, but I think—” “Well, if you think it, you are probably right,” he said. “And that should set the seal on things—particularly if you have a boy this time.” “I shall do my best to oblige,” Hester said, her eyes dancing with laughter. “Though I cannot promise.” “Well, I dare say there’s plenty of time,” he said and winked at her. “A healthy couple like you will probably produce a string of brats.” Hester laughed as the music ended, and he took her back to her husband. Paul looked at her, seeing the glow in her eyes and the color in her cheeks. “Enjoying yourself, my love?” “Yes, very much,” she replied. “I have saved three dances for you, Paul, and I think this next is our first.”

It was a waltz, and as he took her in his arms, Hester felt as if she were floating. She felt so light, so free of care, that she felt as if she could dance forever. It was late when they returned home that evening. Anna had waited up for her mistress, but as soon as she had helped her out of her gown, Hester sent her to bed. Sitting before her dressing table, she was brushing her long hair when Paul came to her. He took the brush as he often did, smoothing it over her shining tresses. When he laid it down at last, Hester stood up and went into his arms lifting her face for his kiss. However, he looked down at her for a moment before taking her to him. “Is it all right now?” he asked. “Are all the bad memories gone and the shame vanquished for good?” “Yes, the shadows have gone,” she said. “I was offered vouchers for Almacks by two of the patronesses this evening, and I do not think that would have happened if my place was not secure.” “I dare say a few of the tabbies will tear you to shreds in private—friends of Lady Blackwater. She may have a few left, though after tonight I think many will not bother to invite her to their homes. She would do better to retire to the country for she is not much liked.” “The poor woman,” Hester said. “I hope people will not be unkind to her. I do not wish to see her ostracized, Paul. If we meet, I shall nod my head in passing, and so must you.” “Indeed?” His eyes were bright with laughter. “And why must I, Hester? Am I to be petticoat ruled from now on?” “You know better,” she said, “and I know better than to try, but you must humor me for a little. It is my right as . . . the mother of your child.” “My . . .” His eyes darkened and then he smiled in delight. “Is it truly so, Hester? Are you carrying my son?” “I believe I am with child,” she admitted. “I think it must have happened on our wedding eve. But I cannot be certain just yet, and I am not promising it will be a son, though I shall do my best.” “A daughter will do just as well if you are safe,” he said and kissed her lightly on the nose. “You know that I love you, my darling, and though I am delighted with the news, it is you who will always come first with me.” “Do you think Sylvia will feel a little jealous?” Hester said wrinkling her brow. “She has had us such a short time and now there will be a brother or sister to compete for attention.” “We must show her that we love her just the same,” Paul said, “and while babies are very well, some time must pass before they can compete with our little charmer.” “Yes, I know,” Hester said, her face glowing as she looked up at him. “We are so lucky, Paul. I feel as if I have everything that I could possibly want.” “We have been blessed,” he said. He reached out to touch her face. “Do you think our son or daughter would object if I made love to you this night?” “I do not think that he or she would object at all,” Hester said. “It will be some months yet before I begin to suffer any discomfort.” “And this time you will have me to look after you,” he said, bending down to scoop her up in his arms and carry her gently to the bed. “This time you will be spoiled and loved, and you can be assured that both you and the babe will be loved.” “Yes,” Hester said and laughed softly. “Why do they call a child born out of wedlock a love child do you think? I believe that any child born to us would be a child of love.” “So wise and beautiful,” he said as he lay down beside her and gathered her to him. He stroked her hair for a moment, and then, running one hand down the satin arch of her back,

he deftly removed her nightgown with the other. “And you will grow lovelier to me as our child quickens within you. I may have had a reputation as something of a rake before we married, but I promise that I shall never take a mistress as long as we live, my darling.” “In that case I shall never take a lover,” she said, laughing huskily as she saw the fire in his eyes. “But you knew that anyway I think?” “Do you know, Hester, I think that if you were not carrying my child, I might spank you.” She gurgled with delight and snuggled against him, content that at last they could laugh and talk together, free of the shadows that had so long hung over them.

TuÉâà à{x Tâà{ÉÜ Anne Ireland also writes as Anne Sole, Linda Sole and Anne Herries. She is the author of over eighty published books for several different publishers, both ebook and print/hardback houses. Anne lives in England and is happily married.

VÉÅ|Çz fÉÉÇ YÜÉÅ TÅ|Üt cÜxáá g{x fÉâÄÅtàxËá VâÜáx Uç Wt{Ä|t eÉáx There is a legend, a legend that spans a thousand years. It is of the Valentino men, who on their thirtieth birthday sense their life mates and claim them as their own. The ability to sense their mates remains hidden throughout most of their lives. Until they turn thirty, when everything changes. The Valentino man could be anywhere, at work or walking down a street, when he feels his mate. The sensation is that of the hairs standing on the back of his neck. An instinct to find his love follows. What the woman’s situation is does not matter— whether she is married, cloistered in a convent, a whore, or a servant girl. When a Valentino man feels his soul mate, she is his and God help anyone who stands in his way of claiming the one he loves. Nothing stops him or his mission to have this woman who holds his heart. These women were loved well and long by the Valentino men, carrying on the line from generation to generation. Until the time came when the woman claimed was the daughter of a witch doctor in New Orleans. Kaleen was stolen away in the middle of the night to become the wife of Lucien Valentino. In time, she bore Lucien a son, Marcus. On their son’s first breath and cry, the witch doctor cursed them for an eternity. No Valentino man would find happiness again in the arms of his beloved. Instead, the wolf in him would kill her, and her blood would spill into the earth before they could create a child. It started with Lucien and Kaleen’s son, Marcus. From there, the curse went on. The only way to continue the Valentino line and their hopes of finding a way to break the curse was for the male Valentino to have a child with one who was not his beloved. She would be the one to teach the child of his destiny and his cursed fate. After the death of his beloved, each Valentino man killed himself. The agony of what he had done to his beloved was too much for him to bear. The curse can be broken, but only on a Valentine’s moon, and there is only one every five hundred years. This is the year of the Valentine’s moon. There is only one left in the line now, and his time is coming. He is the descendant of Lucien and Kaleen’s only son, Marcus. Born not from his father’s soul mate but from the woman who tried to comfort him after he had spilled his true love’s blood. Jonathan Valentino told her the secret of his ancestors. Even in his grief, he knew he had to give his descendants another chance to break the curse. His tears fell into the hair of the woman who comforted him and who took his seed inside her. She swore to let his son know the truth of his birthright. He wished his son well and hoped he would be the one to be able to hold on to his love. Then, in his sorrow, he drove his car into the deepest water he could find. As he felt the cold water fill his lungs, he saw the face of his beloved. She beckoned him to join her on the other side of death, where they would be free to love. Now Lucas Valentino is the only one left, and he has felt the pull of his soul mate. He knows of the curse and what it holds for him, and he runs away to the mountains. Not only

for himself, but to save her from a fate that is not of her choosing. The legend will continue, and the lives of those involved will be destroyed forever. The soul mate’s curse will end only when the Valentinos are gone and their seed wiped from the Earth, unless . . . Remember the Valentine’s moon comes . . . To read more of this great story, look for it at www.amirapress.com in February 2008.