Seductive Secrets

By

Colleen Connally

* * * *

PUBLISHED BY

Colleen Connally on Smashwords

Colleen Connally

Copyright @ 2012 by Colleen Connally

Cover Art by The Romance Center http://www.romancenovelcenter.com/

Edited by Faith Williams

The Atwater Group

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.  If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

June 2012

Dedication

To Bob

For allowing me to follow my dream.

To Kara John

For all the encouragement and support.

Previously published as Daughter of Deceit by Carrie James Haynes

REVIEWS

COFFEE TIME ROMANCE & MORE

CTRR Award

I positively enjoyed Seductive Secrets. Colleen James Connally spins a tale that scoops up the reader and transports them into action, romance and intrigue. There is so much more that makes this story spectacular. It is filled with deception, treachery, romance, intense drama, and detailed characters that pull in the reader from the beginning until the end. The secondary players add great finesse to the storyline. I have to admit it was completely hard to put this book down. Ms. Connally creates an enthralling read that surrounds with anticipation that continues to build, leaving this reader spellbound.  Cherokee

RISQUE REVIEWS

Top Choice Award

This story kept me on the edge of my seat as Alyce goes through the days trying to learn the truth.  The suspense kept my heart racing as Alyce meets someone that knows something about her father.  It turns out to be an attempt on her life. I literally held my breath until I knew she was alright.

Later in the story, Haynes takes Alyce through a journey of sensual feelings for Lord Julian.  Alyce discovers that she is falling in love. And through the description Haynes uses throughout her story, I experience the same feelings Alyce felt.  Haynes was able to make me place myself in this story to feel as if all the action that took place happened to me.  I especially like when I read a book and can feel that way.

There is one scene toward the end of the book that made me not able to put the story down--when Alyce is led to old ruins at Colonel Tolworthy’s estate by someone trying to cause her harm.  I stayed up late reading the last section of the book because I simply could not quit reading until I knew the outcome. Carrie Haynes knows how to weave a tale and draw the reader into the very essence of the story.  Good job Haynes!

Chapter One

The carriage trundled through the falling darkness. Alyce braced herself on the edge of her seat while the wheels beneath her slowed. Thank all that was good! The journey had stretched on too long, far too long. Her head pounded. Her body ached from the rough roads she had traveled in a short period of time. She pushed up the blind and saw the lights of an inn, a lively inn from the looks of things.

Lights and people, more people than she had seen in the last two days. Surely this quaint inn was close to civilization. She prayed they would stay the night. She had not seen a bed in ever so long. She needed to rest and wanted never set foot into a carriage again, if the truth be known. At least not in present company.

She stared across at her companions. Dear old Uncle Munford had succumbed to travel fatigue; he slept soundly for most of the journey this day. The moment the carriage stopped, she watched his head rise from the side of the carriage. He glanced over at his wife, Emma, where in truth Alyce’s immediate worry lay.

The elderly woman sat clasping her head in her hands. Alyce feared she was about to have an attack of apoplexy. Over the last eight years of living with Aunt Emma, Alyce had come to know the signs of an eruption. Not that Alyce hadn’t expected as such, not after the week they had endured. But she had no time for an outburst. Immediately upon the carriage halting, Alyce’s hand was upon the door.

“Alyce, now don’t go and…” Uncle Munford’s words drifted off quietly. His hand rounded his wife.

“Dear uncle,” she said, using the endearment even though neither Munford nor his wife was her true relation. “You know my concern and the answers I seek do not lie in Whickhoe.”

“You know well that Colonel Tolworthy specifically ordered you to Whickhoe.”

The door opened before Alyce attempted a response, but she made no secret of her extravagant eye-roll upon the mention of her guardian. Her imaginary guardian, if you asked her. Why, over the years she had seen him only a handful of times and never for more than a week’s visit. She pulled the hood to her cloak over her head and exited the carriage to the cool night’s air.

She paused for a moment, glancing at the sign hanging outside the entrance door, and entered the Cat and the Fiddle Inn. She hadn’t the foggiest idea where they were, but she hoped it was not too far outside of London. She had to get to London.

She looked back at the bustle of an attendant on their post-chaise. Behind him there was a fresh change of horses. Oh, good Lord! Within minutes they would be on their way once more. Not if she could help it. She could not abide another minute in that carriage with her two companions. Besides, she had to get to London or at the very least send a message to Charles. She had to.

Alyce mounted the stairs and walked into the inn without a thought. Immediately, she noticed her entry seemed to garner unwanted attention. She glanced around to find several eyes inspecting her from head to toe. Her face warmed to their scrutiny. She had not the experience of staying at an inn. The bold gazes from the men and the assumptions implied by their stares unnerved her, but she couldn’t let her discomfort keep her from her intent.

She looked back over her shoulder to see if Uncle Munford followed her, but for the life of her, he was nowhere to be seen. He must be attending to Aunt Emma, she thought. She swallowed hard and gathered herself. Her eyes swept across the crowded inn, looking around the room until she found what she assumed would be the innkeeper.

Unsure exactly what was expected of her, she moved to the side of the man, a rather hefty man with round red cheeks, and asked for two chambers for the night. To her dismay, the man turned upon her, scowling. He did not bother to hide his grimace at her appearance. She wanted to bolt.

“Do you have companions traveling with you?”

His tone did nothing to ease her anxiety. All the years she had lived under the same roof as Uncle Munford and Aunt Emma, she had learned to handle situations on her own. She had little choice if she wanted to eat or keep warm. She would handle this as well. Determined, she pushed back the hood of her cloak.

“My uncle is seeing to my aunt. She fell ill upon our journey. They will be in here in a moment, I’m certain, and will need a room.”

The man frowned. His mouth tightened while his eyes shifted over her in the most uncomfortable manner. “I get paid up front.”

Her eyes widened in mortification. She may not have been socially adept, but she knew well she had been insulted. Her body stiffened. She hadn’t even asked if the stagecoach into London stopped here. She drew herself up to her full height and mustered all her indignation over his slight. “I take from your manners you have issue with me. If that is your position, rest assured I will not bother you further…”

Her words faded when Uncle Munford entered, hunched over with his arms tightly around Aunt Emma. She walked hastily back to them.

“Done told ’em to just put up the horses. We’ll be staying. Colonel Tolworthy won’t like it one bit, but got no choice here, not with Emma so sick and all.”

“I thought as much myself and have already asked for rooms. I’m sorry, uncle, but the gentleman apparently has none available for us. We will have to continue.”

Uncle Munford shook his wrinkled, drawn face. “Can’t, Alyce. My Emma isn’t in any shape to continue. Done gone and overdone it again. Upset and all, what with the fire.”

Oh! The smell of his sour breath overwhelmed her. She wanted nothing more than to huddle in a corner and disappear. Oh, why had Lord Cranleigh insisted upon these two escorting her? She would have been better to have traveled alone! She sighed heavily. Nothing could be done differently now. She would have to make the best of it.

Alyce’s hand rested on Uncle Munford’s back. “I will not stay here, uncle. Why, that man insulted me when I tried to get our rooms!”

Her voice rose. She didn’t care. She was tired, hungry, and scared. Oh, terribly scared. Uncle Munford didn’t understand. It was why she had to get to London. Charles would understand the minute he heard about the fire. He would realize, as she did, that the fire was no accident.

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere, child. Did you tell ’em you’re Colonel Montague Tolworthy’s ward?” He glanced back at her. “You didn’t, by the look of you.”

Upon his reprimand, Alyce felt a tightness in the back of her throat that signaled tears. She fought them back, but her attempt turned futile. A moment later silent tears slid from the corners of her brown eyes.

“Excuse me,” a male voice said from behind her. “Perhaps I can be of service.”

Alyce turned. Straightaway, she recognized the man was a gentleman. Without question his presence dominated the room. The man towered over her, a good six feet in height, with a broad physique. Devastatingly handsome, he was dressed in a simple, but elegant, fashion: a gentleman of quality. But all of a sudden he looked dangerous to her when her eyes met his. For a moment she paused. Something about him seemed familiar...the eyes, the build. She had the distinct impression she had met him before, but that was quite impossible.

The man flashed a smile as if to reassure her. She wasn’t reassured at all.

“Pardon me. Let me introduce myself. I’m Lord Julian Casvelyn. I couldn’t help but overhear Colonel Tolworthy’s name mentioned. Is it Colonel Montague Tolworthy from Evermonde?”

Only half listening to the gentleman, she avoided looking directly into his eyes as she spoke, “Yes, I’m his ward, Alyce H…”

“Miss Alyce Rufford, my lord,” Munford interrupted. He gave Alyce a sharp glance to silence her and bowed his head the best he could while holding his wife in his arms. “Munford Cummings, my lord. My wife, Emma. Alyce has been in our care. Unfortunately, the cottage that had been our home burnt to the ground last week. The colonel sent word for her to withdraw to his estate. Nowhere else to go.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “But of course not. And you tarry from?”

“A small village outside of Plymouth, Lancefield.”

“You have traveled a great distance,” his tone became abrupt and sharp. “Come. I know the colonel well. I will take care of this misunderstanding.” He turned to Munford. “Your wife is ill?”

Alyce stood silently. She watched the stranger see to their accommodations, ignoring the glances he cast her way. She wasn’t sure what was expected of a lady in this circumstance, but if the gentleman thought she was impressed with his interference, she wasn’t. She had only one thought.

Reaching into the pocket within her cloak, she clutched tightly to her letter addressed to her dear friend, Lissa. She needed desperately to get the message to Charles. Lissa would give it to him, she was certain. It was the only way she knew he would receive it. Oh, whatever was she going to do?

A moment later, the innkeeper gestured for Alyce to follow him up the stairs. She hesitated. She needed to send the letter. She glanced over her shoulder. She would never get to send it if she retired to her room.

“Do you have another issue, Miss Rufford?” Lord Casvelyn asked from behind her.

She turned to find him beside her.

“If you are concerned about letting the colonel know of your progress, rest assured I will be sending him a message shortly.”

She wished he hadn’t moved so close to her. His gaze all but skewered her and greatly unsettled her; she could feel an intensity of interest emanating from him. She stirred in response to his gaze. She pressed her lips together, unable to immediately respond. She thought how Charles would laugh at her and remind her how naïve she was to be affected by this stranger. It annoyed her that she was susceptible to his allure. Stop acting like a ninny!

“I believe I’m becoming indebted to you, my lord. I’m certain the colonel will be relieved to know we have made it this far, under the circumstances.” Her eyes lowered, staring at the letter. “It is my letter that concerns me. I need to have it delivered to my friend as soon as possible in London. I had hoped to post it before I left but found I was unable to.”

“You have stated you are Colonel Tolworthy’s ward. He would be greatly disappointed in my person if I didn’t care for your needs, I assure you.” He gave her another smile and seemed greatly amused at her expense. “What if I show you my good intentions? Do you want the note delivered to your friend?”

“Yes,” she said. Her manner eased slightly. “I would be so greatly appreciative. Can it be delivered immediately?”

“If it is that important to you, I will see to it.”

“She will get it tonight?” she questioned again before she handed him the letter.

“I will see to it, Miss Rufford.”

“Excuse me, ma’am,” a young lad interrupted her. “Is this all ya got?”

Alyce looked at the boy holding her valise. It must have seemed odd she had no trunks, only one valise which held all the items she could call her own. It was only by the goodness in Lady Cranleigh that she had any clothes at all. She nodded, but could not help but notice the look Lord Casvelyn directed toward her as the boy walked up the stairs. She said nothing more, but followed the lad up the stairs.

* * * *

Lord Julian Gillespie Vernon Casvelyn, the Earl of Pentilyon, and a host of all assorted titles, poured himself a glass of port. He drank down the entire contents while he pondered the information his man, Jamieson, had only just discovered on this Alyce Rufford. Still he wondered who the hell she was! To say he was taken quite by surprise when his grandfather’s name was mentioned as her guardian was an understatement. He had no doubt of her deception, for he would have well known if his grandfather had a ward.

In all, he had more questions than answers. It was no coincidence his grandfather had sent for him and now this young woman claimed to be his ward. No, he didn't believe in coincidences. He didn't believe in fate. He no longer believed in many things, not since he lost his brother, Roland. It had been eight long years since the death of his best friend...his twin. In that time he had lived with regret, guilt, and anger, with so very little to give meaning to his life and knowing his brother should have never died. The unfairness of it all!

Nor was he sure what to make of the information Jamieson had gathered. The coachmen who drove the carriage were in the employment of a baron from Lancefield, Lord Nigel Cranleigh. According to the information, Lord Cranleigh had requested the young lady be delivered to Colonel Montague Tolworthy in Whickhoe in quick measure. The men confirmed that his grandfather was indeed the girl's guardian, informing Jamieson that Colonel Tolworthy had ventured to Lancefield a few times in the past years.

One of the coachmen also confirmed that Alyce's note was intended to go to his employer's daughter, the Honorable Mrs. Melissa Breck, with whom Alyce seemed to have been educated. Not much else had he learned other than this Alyce Rufford lived a quiet existence until the fire. The whole of the cottage where she lived burnt to the ground in the dead of night a little over a week ago. Nothing was left, and it was fortunate that no lives were lost.

"Nothing else, Jamieson? I want to know of her. Who is she? Why is my grandfather her guardian and I know nothing of it?”

“I'm sorry, my lord. I can’t answer that, my lord. All know her as Alyce Rufford, a name which has no significance to any. It is thought your grandfather owed the girl’s father, perhaps a soldier’s daughter? He brought her to Lancefield seven or eight years ago. It may have been during the time of your lordship’s brother’s death. Perhaps your grandfather didn’t want to bother you with a triviality.”

Julian pondered the situation a moment more before deciding his next move. The lady had immediately caught his attention entering the inn unattended. Upon first glance she seemed intent upon her purpose, unaware of her surroundings or the attention she caused entering alone. His thoughts were of a meeting with a clandestine lover until she lowered the hood exposing her face for all to see.

No, she had the look of one lost, glancing around the room, unsure of what she sought. Lovely, he had thought, with her thick brunette hair upswept, calling attention to those large expressive eyes. Her clothes were of quality, but quite out of style. Seeing her distress, he rose to offer help to the lady, only to be taken by surprise in hearing his own grandfather’s name mentioned. No, there was something peculiar going on here and only one could answer for him.

Julian pulled his watch out of his waistcoat pocket. Almost nine o’clock. If he left now for Evermonde he would be there well ahead of the lady. He finished off another glass and turned to Jamieson. “Prepare to leave within the hour.”

* * * *

Alyce prepared for bed. The tray of food delivered for her sat untouched. Aunt Emma lay in the room next to hers, having succumbed to the vapors. Shortly after retiring to their rooms, Aunt Emma cried for Uncle Munford not to leave her.

"Perhaps, Alyce, it would be best if I took Emma to my room," Uncle Munford uttered, trying to calm his wife. "At least for a time."

Alyce agreed. But the walls between their rooms were thin, and she heard all their words clearly when they talked, even Aunt Emma's incoherently mumbled words.

"The Devil’s after her. Old Mistress Nancarrow warned me. She did."

"Now...now...Emma, Alyce's a sweet child. Nothin' wrong 'cept your nerves are on edge with the fire."

"Yes. Yes. The fire. Tell me how she knew, Munford. I'll tell you. A restless spirit. You think it too. It's best we go. Leave her."

"You silly woman. You listen too much to stupid superstition. She saved us. Here, here. Calm yourself. Drink."

After listening to the conversation between Aunt Emma and Uncle Munford, Alyce came to the realization that the two of them wanted nothing more than to hand her over to Colonel Tolworthy and relieve themselves of their responsibilities as fast as possible.

Old rumors and whispers reemerged after the fire. Devil's spawn, witches' child. What more did one expect in the land of Cornish legends when Alyce suddenly appeared one day out of nowhere? Not exactly nowhere, but no place any could know.

Alyce arrived in Lancefield unannounced in the dead of night on the doorsteps of the Cranleigh's manor. She stayed only a short time at the manor before she began her life on the moors in a small cottage...a life no longer her own. Lord Cranleigh set rules for her existence within Lancefield. A new name. A new life. Introduced to Uncle Munford and Aunt Emma, she was told in no uncertain terms to accept the story of their connection to her. She could do little else. She was no more than twelve at the time, taken away from the only life she had known...the only people she had ever loved.

Lady Cranleigh made light of the rumors that rose from her appearance. The lady of the manor gave no credence to mystic legends of ghosts and demons. At the time, Alyce thought little of the others' stares upon her. She cared naught.

Over the years, the rumors died out. The whispers behind her back ceased until...until the fire. It destroyed more than the house she had lived in. The fire destroyed the illusion she had created that she could live without searching for the truth. She had tried. Charles had helped her, but his father quickly quenched her hunt for the life she had known.

Though in truth, strange things had begun to occur well before the fire, things that frightened Alyce. Dreams. She had dreamed before, but not like this. So real. So terrifying.

Alyce crawled into bed, gripping tight to the covers around her. She had no desire to be alone, but Aunt Emma was in no shape to be pulled away from Uncle Munford and the comfort she sought from the bottle. The woman didn't want to be around her.

Laying her head down on the pillow, she heard a commotion from the tavern beneath her. Downstairs the night had only begun, by the sounds of the patrons. Sleep would not come easy this night.

In truth, sleep had not come easy since the night of the fire. She shivered. The smell of the smoke hadn't left her. Sound asleep...if not for the voice calling to her.

Mary. Mary. Mary Alyce!

Alyce sprang up from the pillow. The feeling hit her - the same icy chill she had felt before. The same voice called to her, like the night of the fire. She hadn't dreamed it. She wasn't asleep. Glancing around the room, a chill encompassed her though the fire in the hearth radiated warmth. Her heart pounded. She swallowed hard. Oh, she wished Aunt Emma was with her. Maybe she should check on her.

She eased off the bed. Walking in soft steps, she grasped her night robe over the chair by the fireplace. Suddenly, she heard a sound. With a quick glance behind her, she froze. The handle of the door turned...

Julian had certainly not expected his day to unfold as it had. He buttoned up his coat and closed the door behind him. Jamieson had his horse saddled and readied to ride. With the weather warming, the ride wouldn’t be unpleasant. Perhaps he could settle all quickly and return to London before the week’s end. Atkinson waited for his input on the situation arising across the channel.

Walking down the hall, loud voices echoed upward from the tavern below. He would not have found much sleep this night if he stayed with the boisterous group that had arrived shortly after his encounter with Miss Rufford. Given the quite respectable reputation of this inn, he wondered why the innkeeper allowed the disruption. Perhaps he should leave Jamieson to watch over Miss Rufford. He seriously doubted that her companions would deter any issues if they arose, not that any should. At this time of night, Miss Rufford should be tucked in soundly.

Turning the corner, a movement caught his eyes. Did his eyes deceive him? He could have sworn someone made a quick entrance into the far room down the hall. Frowning, he followed the direction of the distraction. On closer inspection, he noticed the door slightly ajar. Moving nearer, he pressed the door back. Alarm crashed through him as he saw an intruder draw back his arm, clutching tightly a knife which gleamed in the firelight.

“Bloody hell!” Julian cried, rushing forward. “Halt!”

Too late, the knife thrust downward toward the bed. A loud feminine scream emerged in the dimly lit room. He lunged for the assailant, knocking him down upon the floor. The assailant pushed back. The two tumbled, but Julian was stronger. His fist pounded upon the chin of the goon. Gripping the jacket of the man, Julian pulled the man upward.

"Look out!"

Glancing back, a blow to his temple sent him sprawling. The impact sent him falling backward. Julian caught himself only to stare into a barrel of a pistol. A turmoil of movement caught his eyes. Suddenly cold water drenched him, followed by a porcelain pitcher crashing to the floor. He grasped the gun, gripping the man’s wrist, fighting desperately for control. A loud crack snapped through the chamber.

For a moment Julian felt nothing. He looked down. The sleeve to his coat scorched and torn, he uttered, “Damnation!”

Holding his arm, he watched the intruder get up and run. He pulled back his hand and saw red blood oozing from the wound. Ignoring the searing pain, he ran out the door and scrambled down the corridor. Too late; the assailant was nowhere to be seen. Footsteps pounded down the stairs. Excited shouts came, echoed from below.

Through the assembly of souls accumulating within the corridor, Jamieson emerged.

“My lord!” He raced to his side. “Your arm!”

“Yes, yes, Jamieson. Some intruders broke into that room with a knife.” Julian pointed to the open door. His voice carried over the onslaught of noise surrounding him. “Did you see them? One was a large burly fellow in a black cape. We need to…”

“There is no need, my lord.” The innkeeper pushed through the men, wearing an expression of worry. Relief replaced it. “I saw the man. He rode off with his two friends, heading on the road toward London. The scum! I’ll have my man call for the justice of the peace. The villains!”

The innkeeper attention turned to Julian’s bloody arm. He turned and snapped his fingers. “Tomais, send after the surgeon. His lordship has been wounded.”

“There is no need.” Julian eyed the man with contempt. It was too late to rectify his gratification, not with being shot. The innkeeper reached toward Julian's arm to examine the damage.

“Get your hands off of me!” Julian commanded, swinging around. “It was not me the assailants were after. It was the occupant of the room. I saw someone entered and discovered the foe stabbing the poor soul in the bed.”

Ignoring the gathering of curiosity seekers in the corridor, he skirted back into the room and looked at the bed. Feathers littered the room. Water soaked the floor, but his eyes lit on the figure by the fire. Standing in her nightgown and wrap, she looked up at him. Her face reflected in the firelight, soft and feminine, very feminine.

He didn't say anything but stared at her with thoughts running rapid in his mind...things that he shouldn't even be thinking about at this moment. She looked so vulnerable with her hair falling down her back, her figure silhouetted by the firelight, her eyes so expressive...so desirable...

His grandfather’s ward. He stepped forward toward her. Her eyes brimmed with tears and the hand covering her mouth shook.

“Are you injured?” he asked, glancing again around the chamber to ensure there wasn’t another assailant hiding. Satisfied, he looked back at her and asked again. “Are you injured?”

She spoke no words, but shook her head.

He nodded in response. Where was her aunt? Good Lord, had her companions left her alone at the inn? Then, from behind him, he heard the innkeeper enter with her companions in tow, gripping tight to each other. Julian stepped back in disgust, bombarded by the odor of rum.

One hand against the wall, the lady grasped her husband for support. “You…you. Cursed. I have always known you were cursed.” Her wrinkled old hand gripped her husband's coat. She cried, “I told you. The Devil is after her. I told you she’s marked.”

“Quiet, Emma!” Uncle Munford uttered under his breath.

The innkeeper pushed aside the two, pointing a finger at the lady. “I knew you were trouble the moment you walked in. Here I am trying to run a respectable establishment…”

“Shut up, you dim-witted simpleton! I spoke for the lady. Do you question the word of a gentleman? I would question your establishment for letting in those ruffians, wanting to harm the lady,” Julian snapped. He would have none of fostering the blame for the innkeeper’s failings upon his grandfather’s ward.

The innkeeper backed away.

“I beg your forgiveness, Lord Casvelyn. I had my misgivings, but the lot of them gave reference to His Grace, Lord Roger Sinclair. They presented his card.”

“I doubt seriously if any had connections to Lord Sinclair!” Julian uttered in a loud angry voice.

“They paid up front,” the innkeeper said, lowering his objection. His intent turned to defend his own station. He turned to the door. “They will not bother anyone again this night. I will see to it.”

“As will my man.” Julian nodded toward Jamieson. “Let me know when the justice’s men arrive.”

“It may well be the morning before any arrive, my lord.” The innkeeper hesitated before offering the information.

Julian sighed. His frustration weighed upon each breath. The man had no desire to interrupt the justice’s sleep!

“Jamieson, the men are long gone, but go see if anyone recognized any of the assailants,” Julian commanded.

Julian watched until Jamieson disappeared down the stairs. He turned back to find the innkeeper fidgeting in the same spot.

“If you do not want the surgeon called forth, do you need attention for your arm?” the innkeeper asked.

“Send up fresh water and a clean cloth,” Julian said, removing his hand from the wound. The bleeding had slowed. “Now, pray leave.”

“What of the lady?” The man glanced over at the silent woman and her companions in disdain. “I do not want them wandering about my property. They have caused enough commotion…”

“I would hold my tongue. My patience is worn. I will handle the situation. I expect you will take care that the magistrate is prompt in his attention to the assailants. Leave now.”

Julian dismissed the man with such firm authority that the innkeeper straightaway withdrew, taking the remaining audience with him.

Julian closed the door. His eyes fixed on his grandfather’s ward. Trouble for certain! Oh, what had his grandfather gotten himself into, becoming her guardian?

“I’ll not take her,” the old woman cried, wobbling toward him. She waved her hands in a disordered fashion. “No. We’ll all be struck dead…"

“Shut her up,” Julian demanded, turning his attention back to the problem before him. He wasted no time trying to talk sense to the inebriated old woman. He directed his words at her husband. “Take her and her ranting away from me. I will not tolerate such nonsense.”

He turned his attention back to his grandfather's ward. The lady made no effort to detain her companions.  Impatient, he gestured for her to come with him.

“Come; I will not find the answers I seek within this room.”

At first he thought she was going to protest, but her eyes fell upon his wound. She followed him timidly down the hall back into his chamber. He almost kicked the door opened. After she entered, he slammed the door soundly behind them, shaking the wall.

Julian sat on the bed. Wincing, he slid off his wet waistcoat and tore off the remnants of his tattered shirt sleeve. Upon closer examination, the bullet had only grazed him, but well scorched his arm. Not a pretty sight, it was blackened and bloodied.

“Do you want me to care for it?”

He looked over at her. In the better light of his room, he found his opinion of her changed little. She had a flawless complexion, enhanced by the silkiness of her long dark eyelashes. Her wavy long hair hung loose, framing her oval face. Brown eyes were illuminated with fear and trembles shook her. She looked like a sacrificial virgin waiting to be offered to the gods, frightened half out of her mind.

The door opened without a knock, bringing him back to his immediate needs. He turned to see a maid scurry in. She quickly bobbed a curtsy to Julian and placed a basin and bucket of water near the table by the bed. She laid clean cloths on the mattress. She hurried out, closing the door behind her, but not before giving Alyce a strange stare.

“I should well send for your aunt. It will be bad enough..."

“Neither are my true relations. If I'm not mistaken, I believe they are quite relieved to be done with me," she said bluntly.

"I find it difficult to believe that Colonel Tolworthy would have hired two such as the ones that were escorting you."

"I don't believe he cared, my lord. I haven't seen Colonel Tolworthy for two years. I have been an obligation at best."

His face fell in disbelief of her frank words. Who was this woman to talk in this manner about his grandfather?

"Miss Rufford, Colonel Tolworthy is a gentleman. No matter the obligation, he would have well seen to your needs. I'll be damned if I'll condemn the colonel’s behavior without knowledge of the circumstances. I find it even harder to believe that a young gentlewoman has assailants after her for no reason."

He grimaced upon his utterance, for in expelling his frustration he caused his arm to bleed once more. He swallowed hard not to let a groan escape in his attempt to take his damp shirt off. She moved toward him.

“Here, let me help,” she said, her attention fixed firmly on his wound. Her soft hands pulled the tattered fabric from his injury. “It needs to be washed and dressed properly.”

He leaned up, pulled his shirt out of his pants, and then unbuttoned it.  A moment later his ragged shirt lay on the bed and she began cleansing the wound.

If she was shocked to see him half-naked, she did not show it. Neither did she flinch at the sight of the gash the shot left. Calmly and efficiently, she washed and dressed the wound. Her face showed no emotion while she went through the motions.

“Are you going to tell me who attempted to kill you?” he asked.

Seemingly too shocked and frightened to endeavor to come up with another version of the happenings, she breathed out deeply, but said nothing. She kept washing. With his other hand, he stopped her.

"You stated you are Colonel Tolworthy’s ward. Since he is not here, you are left in my care. Come, you must have suspected something. You weren’t in the bed. I take it that you did attempt to disarm the scoundrels with the end result of my being drenched.”

She gazed mutely down. Refusing to accept silence, Julian looked directly at young woman and lifted her face with a firm hold. Making no effort to withdraw from him, she shifted her eyes back to his. He smiled at her, for it was impossible not to, and waited for her reply. Finally, she spoke.

“I must apologize for dousing you. It was not my intent. I meant to hit him. He was readied to shoot you. It was all I had within reach. I quite forgot it was filled with water…” She drew in a deep breath. Then, in an obvious attempt to change the subject, she said, “This isn’t proper. Far from it, my lord.”

“Without question. Highly inappropriate, but it is not often that an attempt is made on one’s life, is it? I'll make an effort to find someone to see to you after our talk. But at this time of the night, it may well be that I can only offer you this room and my protection. I will stand guard at the front door.”

She hesitated and then nodded, but offered no insight to her dilemma. Only her eyes...her eyes held fear in them. He pressed her, “Since your companions aren’t in any shape to see to your needs, it would seem the duty falls to me.”

“Oh, please, my lord, what do you want me to say? I apologize. I didn’t mean to put you into the middle of this. In truth, none of this would have happened if I had gone to London, to Lissa, as was my wish. She would see to my well-being, but the colonel’s note detailed I go straight to Evermonde. I’m certain if he realized that my welfare could be seen to by another, he would have no objections.”

Again her words took him by surprise, insinuating that his grandfather ignored her care. “The colonel doesn’t see to your welfare?”

"You misunderstand,” her voice quivered. She watched him with caution, guarding her words. “He sees to my care, if that is what you are asking. But truthfully, I have only met Colonel Tolworthy a few times in my life. I was fostered upon him. I believe he would be quite content without the problems I present, but it will not be for much longer. I’m sure you are not interested in my story, although I am deeply appreciative of your defense of me this night.”

“You are mistaken that I do not want to know your story. I do not take lightly being shot at for an unknown reason.”

“Then, pray, forgive me. I trust few and none that I do not know,” she said.

His eyes blazed at her for dismissing his request. Taking the cloth from her hand, he took her hand in his. “This isn’t a request, Alyce Rufford. This isn’t a game. Do you not believe that the events beg for an explanation? I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

She tried to withdraw her hand, but he tightened his grip. She said in a voice not much louder than a whisper, “It is not your concern, my lord. Nor is it the colonel’s. And who are you to answer for him? A relative of some sort?”

"Yes," he said. He had no desire to divulge more. "He has never mentioned you."

A slight laugh escaped her lips. "Are you asking me why he would have done so? I'm sorry if you are looking for information from me. I hold none. I have only been told what to do and what not to do. And learning about my past has to do with the latter."

"The colonel knows of your life before, I take it? And he has not offered it to you?" He edged closer to her.

"I know who I am," she said defensively. This time her eyes met his, unwavering. "My father looked after my needs before his death. I'm not poor. In fact, I have only a few more months and then I will have my inheritance and will not be a burden on the colonel. I will not be beholden to anyone."

“Then what have you done to cause someone to seek your life?” His face settled to a stern expression.

Suddenly the day’s events took its toll upon her. He watched her legs buckle beneath her. She sat down beside him, shaking her head.

“Perhaps, my lord, perhaps I do have need of you at the moment. Your assumption is correct. Someone wants me dead. I had thought the fire was set. I told Lord Cranleigh, but he thought that Aunt Emma, in one of her episodes, had started it. I wrote the colonel to let me go to London.” She paused, running her trembling hand through her hair. “You would not understand. You know where you come from, your family. What if all was taken away from you? What if all you had thought true was taken from you?”

“We all have our burdens to bear, Miss Rufford. What has that got to do with someone trying to kill you?”

Defiantly, she pushed back the hair from her face. “Because, my lord, I want to right the wrong of my father’s death.”

Chapter Two

Alyce couldn't breathe. A fog encompassed her in the dank air. The moist, cold ground beneath her bare feet sank upon her every step. Slowly the darkened clouds gave way to the full moon above her. The mist faded until the bare trees standing in front of her emerged out of the night. Broken walls and stones littered the ground before her. Were they ruins of some sort?

In the distance a voice called to her. It was a voice she recognized, but her confusion grew. Within her lived a yearning to hear the voice again, to be held in those strong, loving arms once more. The voice called her again. Her father. It had to be her father. He needed help.

Oh, whatever was she to do? She had to go to her father. Ignoring the growing panic, she forged through the maze in front of her. The voice became louder, pressing, urgent upon his need. She had to get to her father.

Behind her, noises arose. Her heart palpitated rapidly. She dared not look. She comprehended readily...they had found her. The men that wanted her dead. Her pace escalated. Faster and faster, her legs carried her through the labyrinth in front of her. She fell and couldn't move.

Panic overwhelmed her. She wanted to scream, but no sound emerged. Then before her, a form appeared out of the dark gloom. A man. A man in uniform, a military officer in a fine red coat. He extended his hand to her as he leaned down. Alyce's eyes caught sight of a medallion around his neck. Her panic eased.

She looked up at his smiling face. Her fear evaporated. He seemed so familiar. His face...

"Mary. Mary, trust me..."

Alyce sat straight up in the bed. Sweat streamed down her temple. The dreams once more disturbed her, but it was only a dream. Her hand clutched the necklace under her nightgown. It was still there. She turned toward a sound, the voice and face she saw in her dreams...

“Alyce.”

She glanced around the dimly lit room and recoiled when her eyes caught sight of a man moving toward her. He sat on the edge of the bed. “Alyce, you’re safe.”

For a moment she had forgotten where she was, forgotten that someone tried to kill her this night. She looked at him. Recognition hovered, but it was from a long time ago, before everything became so complicated. A shadow from the past. It was the man from her dream. Her heart pounded so rapidly that she was afraid it would burst from her chest until he clasped her small hands into his large ones and smiled at her.

“I thought…I thought,” she stuttered. “I thought I was alone.”

She glanced around the chamber, a rather large room. The fire burnt warmly with a lamp lit on the writing table. All came back to her. This wasn’t the past, but the present. This man wasn’t who she thought, but the man who had saved her. He had looked so like him...

What had he said his name was? She couldn't remember. Lord Julian… Her eyes met his. Most women would find him indubitably handsome. No longer wearing his wig, his dark hair hung loose around his shoulders. His mouth was set in a straight, hard line. She remembered his lean, taut chest when she helped clean his wound. It was his dark eyes, though, that bothered her. They burned in her, giving away nothing behind his stare.

“You’re not alone. I’m here and my man, Jamieson, is outside these doors. No one is going to bother you.”

She straightened herself up against the pillow. “It is late?” she asked in confusion.

“It is after one,” he said. “Do you remember? I told you to sleep. Nothing will happen to you tonight. I gave you my word.”

She nodded absently, trying to focus. She had been so tired, so very tired. She hadn’t slept since Charles sent his note saying that he thought he had found someone who knew where Fennimore lived. Fennimore, her father’s former secretary, was alive and hopefully held answers to the questions that Alyce wanted so desperately answered. She had been thrilled. Finally, she could begin to clear her father’s name, but then strange things began to happen. Although, it wasn’t until the cottage burned to the ground that she knew someone was trying to kill her.

The cottage burning was no accident. Of that she was certain. Aunt Emma hadn’t turned over a lantern. She had put Aunt Emma to bed well before the fire started. She herself had checked to make sure the fire was out. If the voice hadn't woke her...

Then she had been refused transport to London. Even Lord Cranleigh had rejected the idea. She knew well why. By command of the Grand Duke of Arungdon, himself, she was certain, all were warned to keep her away from his son. She wanted to laugh at the notion. Charles wasn’t a child. He was a grown man of four and twenty and her best friend no matter what obstacles were placed in front of them. Yet, here she was on the way to Whickhoe to her guardian, who wouldn’t have the foggiest idea what had happened, nor for what reason.

“Trust me,” he spoke again, bringing her back to the present.

She turned her attention back to the man. He was so close; she felt a sultry warmth spread from her cheeks and flood down her body. She had only met him hours before; how could she be feeling anything, much less these foreign feelings, for some man she did not even know?

When he slipped off the bed, she shook her head and whispered, "Would it be dreadful of me to ask that you stay by my side?" She knew the inappropriateness of the request, but she was scared...so incredibly scared. “I suppose it is most improper, but I…”

Without pause, his arm rounded her, pulling her to his chest. He had changed from his wet, damp travel clothes, now wearing only his pants and a loose shirt. His arm was well bandaged. He grimaced when he leaned back. “I believe we are well beyond pretty proprieties.”

“I’m sorry.” She sniffled back tears. “I’m usually not this way. I know you believe me docile and malleable, but in truth I’m neither, usually…”

“I do not think that,” he said softly. “I think you have had much upon your shoulders. Lean back.”

“Your wound?”

“Is fine. You are leaning against my good arm, so do not let that be a worry.”

She leaned her head down, finding comfort in his arms. “Do you think they will try again? These men who have been after me. They burned…”

“They are long gone at the moment, Alyce.” He used her given name again. She supposed they were well beyond proprieties. “Perhaps it would be best to talk of other things. In the morning I will escort you to Evermonde. Colonel Tolworthy surely has answers. Tell me, have you been to Evermonde?”

Her fingers gripped tight to his lordship's shirt. She nodded and thought back to that dreadful day. How afraid she had been, but he had soothed her. The lieutenant calmed her and talked of everything except leaving her father behind in London. She rode in the carriage across from the lieutenant. She did so hate leaving her father, but the lieutenant soothed her fears.

A sudden remembrance came upon her. While the carriage drove up the winding lane to the estate, she'd seen ruins.  A mist had shrouded her view. Through the fog, the manor emerged. How very English it was, she had thought. The gables and chimney stack rose up the walls and towered beyond the slate roof, but it was beyond the manor that caught her eyes. The ruins. Time had etched inevitably into the mortared walls, crumbling them into inconspicuous mounds.

“It was an old abbey,” the lieutenant had explained, riding up to the entrance of the manor. “All that is left after four hundred years is the crumbling stones. When I return, I will take you there. I know them well. My brother and I played many an hour in the midst of the ruins. Of course, my brother was the daredevil, but I could not allow him to better me. You have to use care within the ruins. It can be dangerous if you don’t know them.”

But the lieutenant had never returned. She had never visited the ruins. She had left and never returned until now.

She said in a low voice, “Once. I was taken there and met the colonel. I don’t remember much about it except...the ruins. I remember the ruins.”

“I loved the ruins as a child," Lord Casvelyn said. His voice held tenderness for a time forgotten. "It holds many a memory for me. The manor itself is a wonder for a child also. The architecture is quite different than most around the area, with the drawing area's high vaulted ceilings and dark oak-paneled walls. Reminds me at times of the castles of old.”

“Intimidating. I remember feeling so small and insignificant. I did not mind at all leaving Evermonde.”

"I suppose in your circumstances it would have been understandable, not knowing anyone.”

“A gloom enclosed the whole of the manor. Everyone seemed to be in mourning. When I arrived within Lancefield I felt as though a blanket had been lifted. The air was crisp. It is by the ocean. I love the ocean. It made me feel at home.”

“You are from Plymouth?”

“No. In truth, I do not even have a home. It is gone also. As is much of what I have ever known.”

Without warning, tears overwhelmed her, uncontrollable tears. He pulled her tighter and she wept, finding solace in the arms of a stranger.

* * * *

Julian woke abruptly. He couldn’t get to his pocket watch to see the time with her in his arms. Light was breaking through the curtained windows. Morning had dawned. How long the night had been. He looked down upon the woman in his arms. She slept soundly against him. Strangely, he took comfort in the thought.

It was not often he held a woman such as this in his arms. To most women Lord Julian Casvelyn was considered a rake. Although, every season, one mother or another set their cap for him as a catch for their young daughter. Every year he disappointed those poor Mommas. He had no intention of pursuing an innocent. In due time, he would do what was proper- marry, and produce an heir - but that time had not come.

Alyce stirred in his arms. He looked down upon her and she snuggled closer to him. She was an innocent. Of that, he had no doubt. She hadn’t a clue to the danger of being in his arms at this moment...of how his desires had been roused. He should have said no to her when she asked for him to hold her, but he had long since lost control of the situation.

She had brought out in him a protectiveness he had not felt in years...if ever. He thought it dead inside him. Looking down at her sleeping peacefully, the image of her standing by the fire emerged. Her figure was silhouetted beneath her gown from the firelight. Images of the possibilities with this beautiful woman in his arms in the early morning light stirred within him.

She was not adverse to him. Where women were concerned, his instincts never failed him. No, she would never have slept so soundly in his arms. She trusted him. Good Gawd!

He reasoned in all probability his grandfather had fulfilled an obligation to a soldier under his former commander. There was no other logical explanation. She said she was prepared to accept her inheritance, which would push her well past the age for a Season if she had been high-born. Surely, his grandfather would not have ignored a need for a Season for the girl. Julian wondered about his grandfather hiring two soundly disreputable people to see to her welfare all these years.

An ache within him grew and with it the urge to have her. Scattered thoughts rambled through his mind. What harm would come if he seduced her? He could set her up in London. Take from his grandfather any worry about her welfare. He would protect her.

Good Lord! He reprimanded himself. What had grabbed hold of him? Desire. Passion. Lust. That was what was swaying him.

He needed to leave, ignore the war between body and mind. He had only to ease off the bed and regain his composure. This girl added too many complications to his life already.

Julian moved slightly, taking her hand off his chest. Then her head rose upward. Her long, thick disheveled hair flattered her oval face. Her soft eyes focused upon him. For a moment he gazed into the lovely warm brown eyes. Then slowly, without smiling at her, without a word, his head angled downward. His lips brushed hers.

It happened so quickly that his actions astonished him. This was not how it was supposed to be. He had never been impulsive...never. Yet her face was barely an inch away from him.

Giving her no time to contemplate his intent, he brushed his lips against hers again. He inhaled her scent and grew aware of the feel of her body. He pressed another kiss. For an instant he thought she would recoil. Instead of resisting, her hands gripped tight to his shirt in acceptance of what he had to offer.

The voice of caution ignored, he ravished her mouth and pushed her back against the mattress. He slanted his mouth across hers and pushed it open. Using his tongue seductively, he touched her tongue with his gently. His good arm pulled her closer into his encompassing embrace. At first her body tensed to the intimacy he offered, and then slowly her body relaxed and submitted freely to his desires. Her body instinctively arched toward him. A cry escaped her lips, which delighted him.

He moved his lips to the side of her mouth. Then he brushed them against her eyelids, her cheekbones, until he found the soft curve of her neck. He closed his mouth on her neck’s pulse. He became bolder, not resisting his urge toward satisfaction. He could give no reason for his actions; only he wanted her badly, lost in the delirium. He slid his hand up until he reached her breast.

Her body shuddered. No doubt she would have protested, but he clamped his mouth over hers. Slowly, slowly, he warned himself. He was moving too fast. His fingers fumbled for the ribbon to her gown while his lips kissed her again, demanding, aggressive in his pursuit.

Freeing the ties, he slipped his hand beneath the fabric. He watched her eyes widen when he smoothed his palm over her breast, teasing her nipple with his thumb. He heard only gasps of pleasure while his hand worked to free the garment from her lovely skin.

Pushing back the material, his hand caught upon something. A gold chain. Pulling it up to his vision, he saw a medallion attached. His eye caught the gleam in the morning light. Suddenly, he pulled back up with the necklace in hand. He stared in disbelief. He couldn’t take his eyes off the medallion.

At first he took no notice of Alyce recoiling back from him, but she reached up and jerked her necklace from his hand. Pulling her gown back over her shoulders, she stared wide-eyed at him.

"It is mine!”

He would have none of that. He knew that necklace. His hand gripped her arm tightly, demanding loudly, “Where the hell did you get that medallion?”

“It is mine,” she repeated in a small voice. Her fingers clutched fervently to the chain.

He could see she was shaking: from fear of his actions or fear of his discovering the medallion, he wasn’t certain. He backed away off the bed to the fireside. The fire had dwindled down to embers. The whole of his intent would not be served if he could not collect himself. Regaining a semblance of control, he turned back to her.

To his dismay, she had left the bed and huddled in the corner. Her hands trembled so that she couldn’t retie her gown ribbon. Good Gawd! What had he almost done? Running his fingers through his hair, he bent over to her, stilling the scream on her lips.

“I’m not going to harm you, Alyce. It is only the medallion.” He grimaced. He moved too fast and the wound pained him. “It was my brother’s. I know well the medallion. It has our coat of arms. Where did you get it? I have to know.”

She tried to turn away from him, but his hand reached under her chin, lifting it upward. Suddenly she seemed impervious to his closeness and met his eyes.

“Lieutenant Roland gave it to me so his grandfather would know he had sent me. When he delivered me to Colonel Tolworthy, the colonel wasn’t at Evermonde. The lieutenant had no time to wait. He said he had to take care of a situation. He had promised my father he would make sure of my safety.”

“I don’t understand, Alyce. Your father, your safety?”

Tears streamed down her face. “Lieutenant Roland woke me in the middle of the night saying my father needed me to leave immediately. He took me to Evermonde. I never saw my father again.”

“Lieutenant Roland? Lieutenant Roland Casvelyn, you mean. You knew my brother, Alyce,” his voice trailed off. Comprehension dawned. “Alyce, who was your father?”

She shook her head and pushed away his hand on her chin while she scrambled back against the wall. Her eyes alit when a slight knock upon the door disturbed their conversation. Not waiting for an answer, the door swung open. Alyce rushed by him and into the arms of the newcomer.

“Charles!” she cried.

Julian recognized the man immediately. Dressed in a yellow-striped waistcoat with a row of huge silver buttons and a hunter green coat, the man appeared to have taken time to preen to look as he did at this moment. Julian’s first thought was of a peacock with his tail feathers all plumed out. The man stood as tall as Julian, but slender, far slighter in frame, far less intimidating.

“What could be so bad, moppet? I’m here now.”

Julian watched as Alyce’s face warmed to the endearment. She buried her face in his shoulder. The man looked up from their embrace.

“Lord Casvelyn. I understand thanks are in order for protecting my girl. I had only received the message late last night. Of course, I came as soon as I could.”

Message? Of course, the message he had sent from Alyce to her friend. She must have conveyed the message to this man, Lord Charles Tregilgas, Marquess of Rotheward, heir to the Duke of Arungdon.

“Lord Tregilgas,” Julian replied. “Obviously it has been a long night. It is good to see Alyce has a friend, but I’m afraid we are waiting for the magistrate to relay our tale about last night’s adventure. Then I’m escorting Miss Rufford to my grandfather, Colonel Tolworthy.”

“Obviously,” Lord Tregilgas smiled a broad, knowing smile. He tilted his head a tad. “I believe there may be a slight adjustment. I will take Alyce back with me to London. I’m sure you will understand it is for the best.”

“From what I understand Grandfather is her guardian…”

“I take it you do not know all, Lord Casvelyn.” He pointed his finger to a man behind him. “Leopold, pray take Alyce down to the room where we found dear sweet Aunt Emma, who seemed so distressed at having lost Alyce in the night.”

“Oh, Charles, I don’t want to leave you. It has been truly awful these last few weeks. The cottage…tonight…” She glanced over at Julian. Her face flamed red. “In truth, I owe Lord Casvelyn. He saved me. Charles, did you know…”

“I’m certain I can ascertain what his actions were.” Charles bent down and kissed the top of her head. “Now, do be good if you want to go with me. I have brought you a couple of travel gowns that are exquisite. Change and I will be down. I have all set to leave.”

“Lord Tregilgas, I must object!” Julian interjected. His patience had worn thin by the night's adventure and the scene in front of him.

“Go and be a good girl, Alyce,” Lord Tregilgas said, pushing her out the door. He held up his hand as if to give pause to Julian. Watching her leave with reluctance, Lord Tregilgas closed the door and turned to Julian. “I do not want you to think that I’m not deeply appreciative of your efforts to protect Alyce, but I want you to be aware of the circumstances. It is evident to me that you may not have been informed.”

“Then quickly explain yourself.”

“Lord Casvelyn, the fact that you need to be aware of is Alyce’s heritage. Her name isn’t Rufford, but Hythe. Her name is Mary Alyce Hythe, George Hythe’s daughter. Now do you understand?” Lord Tregilgas stepped back toward the door. With his hand on the door knob, he said, “I assume you will not have any issue with me taking her into London now.”

Chapter Three

"I'm afraid it's true, Julian."

“Are you mad, Grandfather? You can't begin to think in good conscience I can accept this situation," Lord Julian ranted. Having found his maternal grandfather in his study, he sat across from the colonel in complete and utter shock.

"I'm certain it is a surprise to you, Julian," the stocky patriarch acknowledged, pushing the papers on his littered desk. He stared at his grandson. "I had meant to tell you numerous times, of course, but there never seemed to have been a good time. And then I thought I would simply marry her off quietly and all would be settled without issue."

Dumbfounded by the words Lord Tregilgas had uttered, Julian rode hard for the last three hours to hear the words from his grandfather himself. Restrained anger filled him after talking with the magistrate, Sir Rupert Ingleby. Sir Rupert made the appropriate inquiries at the inn, but Julian wasn't under any illusion. Once the card from Lord Roger Sinclair was mentioned, Sir Rupert’s manner changed. The man would be no help in uncovering the culprits for fear of incurring the wrath of Lord Sinclair at the mere chance His Grace's name would be linked to the attack.

Adding insult to injury, Tregilgas swept Miss Hythe away without talking with the magistrate, leaving only his father’s address if the magistrate needed any further information. Words echoed in his head. Not wanting to further distress Miss Rufford. Certain the incident would be diligently looked into.

Distress Miss Rufford! Julian fumed. Had he not been the one that had gotten shot? Next, no doubt, he would be dodging the gossip that was bound to erupt over the incident.

He was angry and the anger hadn’t dissipated with the ride. Angry at them all: the pompous popping-jay, the unassuming beauty, and his grandfather…anger that may not have had any justification, but in his mood he didn’t care. Any cheer he had in seeing the colonel had turned immediately to disbelief when he heard the news back at the Cat and the Fiddle Inn.

"Quietly?" Julian questioned. "Grandfather, what in the world were you thinking? Fostering a daughter of a notorious spy upon an unsuspecting soul! It is unheard of!”

“Good Gawd! You haven’t even heard the circumstances!” Colonel Tolworthy shot back at Julian.

Irritation blazed from his grandfather’s eyes. No one questioned him in this manner except for his grandson. His daughter and her husband had perished in a terrible carriage accident when a rain-damaged bridge collapsed with their carriage. He had raised both Julian and his twin brother Roland after that, but the only family left now was him and Julian.

"I find this matter difficult to comprehend. You are telling me my own grandfather has withheld this information from me for years. And now you expect me to accept your actions! Why in heaven’s name would you become the guardian of the girl?

" To save her from social ruin? What was your plan? To hoodwink someone into marrying her? How could you even contemplate such an act? The daughter of the man responsible for Roland’s death!”

Julian’s temper exploded at his grandfather. N’ver before had he been angry at this man, but this…this was unfathomable. Roland, his twin, his confidante, shot down in cold blood. Over the years, questions lingered, but the one glaring thing he knew with certainty was George Hythe betrayed his brother and shot him in the back to cover his tracks of deception. Before his grandfather uttered another word, he stated plainly, "I won't be party to any of it."

“I'm afraid it wasn't a choice, Julian." Colonel Tolworthy coughed slightly to clear his voice. "I loved Roland, also. Do not question that, ever. It is because of him I took her in. Do not judge until you hear all. You don’t know all concerning your brother’s death. You couldn’t because all the questions have never been answered. And remember the girl had nothing to do with the situation."

"She is his daughter. That is all I need to know,” Julian answered firmly. "And pray tell what else have you kept from me? I have a right to know everything! Why was I lied to, telling me she had been withdrawn back to her mother’s family in the colonies…to Charles Town or whatever they bloody call it now…Charleston? Why…why have you kept this from me?”

“Because you were twenty years old and looking for vengeance. I had already lost one grandson. I had no intention of losing another in a foolhardy attempt to clear his conscience. It was Roland’s decision to join His Majesty’s Service, Julian. You were never responsible for his actions. We all live to our purpose.”

“It is mine to live with,” his voice snarled with anger. He had thought he had long ago dealt with the loss of his younger brother, younger only by five minutes. Five minutes! The difference between His Majesty’s Service and a life of ease as a titled gentleman, destined only to talk of other’s deeds.

“Do you want to hear all now?”

Julian glanced over at his grandfather, the good, understanding man that he was. There was something in his expression. Julian's anger calmed. “I will listen. It is all I can promise.”

“It is all I ask.” The old gentleman settled back into his chair.

Julian glimpsed a wave of pain flash over his grandfather’s face. Behind his grandfather, the windows gleamed out to the bright sunshine of the promise of an early spring. The gardens began to bud. Birds sang on the bare branches. Life had a way of continuing even through the darkest of times, as it had been eight years earlier.

“Roland was in the midst of a conspiracy. That was made known to me. He was walking a fine line, trying to decipher the culprit within his ranks. That General Treadwell readily relayed to me. The facts and circumstances of his death have been cloudy at best, Julian. I have questioned everything since I was told of his death. All doesn’t make sense. What was clear, though, was Roland died honorably and in the service of his king. In that I took comfort, but the rest made no sense after I met the girl.

“She showed up within my house, Julian. Roland had left her here at Evermonde. He hadn't the time to stay and explain. She had his medallion. Julian, she was twelve years old! She didn’t even know her father had died or Roland…,” he hesitated briefly, reliving the moment. “Her appearance came as a complete shock when I returned after Roland’s murder. I had no idea of what to do with the girl. By then, I had no choice in the matter. It had been taken out of my hands.”

Julian’s eyes lay steady on his grandfather. “Your point?”

“My point, dear boy, is that after I sent word of the girl to General Treadwell, I was immediately inundated with a committee of gentlemen. You do not even want to know all of the dealings that went into this guardianship.

“If the truth be known, I was simply a figurehead. The whole of the situation oozed complications. You have to understand the request, if you could call it such, came from the Lord Chancellor himself. I was told only that it was a necessity.”

The Lord Chancellor silenced the scandal. Julian pondered the information. “Necessity? The guardianship of a young girl? A young girl, I might add, that was told to all had left the country.”

“There were reasons, which I see upon your reaction, you still might not be ready to hear.”

Julian regarded his grandfather for a few minutes. “Do not play games with me, Grandfather. I am not in the mood.”

The older man’s lips tightened in a manner that prodded reluctance in his speech. “As I said, I’m simply a figurehead. In my estimation, to cover up her existence. No one that was looking for her would look for her in the guardianship of the grandfather of the man her father murdered.”

“In that I would not argue with you, Grandfather,” Julian finally said. “The question becomes why? Why in God’s name would you?”

Colonel Tolworthy lowered his gaze. “Hythe, Julian, turned out to be quite a wealthy man in his own right. He made his fortune in shipping over in the Carolinas, Philadelphia, and the Islands. I have seen to the girl’s finances. He accumulated wealth before the war and had the good sense to bank his money in England. Before you ask, no. His estate was not confiscated, which leaves her a substantial heiress. It was feared that his family would claim it from the girl.”

Julian breathed out heavily. His temper rose with every word from his grandfather but he attempted to remain calm. But for heaven's sake - it had been his brother, his twin! In truth he had never accepted his death, but now to learn he had been kept in the dark over this...

“I told you, son. It was complicated. If you want to know why they didn’t confiscate the estate, I’m not the one to ask. General Treadwell would know better. I did as I was requested, although in truth I did not do much. His Grace, Lord Harold Tregilgas, made most of the decisions of where she was to go and live. He has been a thorn in my side, especially when he discovered that his own son bonded with the girl. Doesn’t want to blight his good name! Faulted me for it! Ranted and raved!

“I tried to accommodate His Grace. I did. I tried to marry her off, quietly. I had all set with Sir Malcolm Oliver. He would not have cared about the girl’s name. He already has his heir…”

“Grandfather! My Lord! Sir Malcolm is over fifty years old. He has already buried two wives!”

“And needs the money,” Colonel Tolworthy countered. “The girl flatly refused. Then there’s the young Lord Tregilgas interfering. His Grace demands the girl marry, and then his own son interferes! Is it my fault His Grace placed the girl with his sister? The girl grew up beside the younger Tregilgas’s cousin. I understand the girls have been fast friends for quite a while. A couple of years ago, Lord Tregilgas stepped between them when she got it into her stubborn head to try to clear her father’s name. I had to deal with His Grace’s fury then. I can well imagine what he must…”

“Lord Charles Tregilgas…tell me about the two,” Julian interrupted, looking dubiously at his grandfather. “Are the two trying to make a match of it?”

“It would be my guess. What else could it be?”

Julian’s mood darkened further. He gestured with his hand for his grandfather to stop. He leaned back in his chair. He was not happy, not at all. “So your contention is that your ward has set her cap upon a future duke.”

Colonel Tolworthy twisted his mouth slightly. “I suppose it may seem that way. And if she isn’t contained, all will become widely known. I can’t have that. It has been my biggest fear.”

Julian gripped his hands together as so not to throw something. His anger had not lessened listening to the tale his grandfather had weaved. His head pounded. Holding his head in his hands, he tried to absorb the information of what his grandfather had kept from him for years. Then a thought occurred to him. He looked up at his grandfather.

“Grandfather, it has always been the contention that Hythe shot Roland in the back, killing him. I have never questioned that fact. You have never implied otherwise, but,” Julian stood pushing his chair back harshly, “you never would have taken the girl if you believed it so. Neither would have the Lord Chancellor or the His Grace have cared about her situation.

“Good Lord! Grandfather, you helped the girl because you don’t think Hythe killed Roland. Why have you not acknowledged that fact?”

Colonel Tolworthy sat motionless in deadly calm. The only noise sounding was the ticking of the clock. In his silence, Julian had his answer.

“Oh my Gawd! You said nothing, for you believed all eyes would turn upon Roland as the traitor!”

* * * *

Julian grimaced, reaching for his ale. He glared at the paper in his hand, the latest scandal sheet, and threw it to his side. As he feared, the incident had taken life. Although his name wasn’t mentioned, he assumed it would be only a matter of time before it became common knowledge he had been shot. He hoped only that there would be no mention of Alyce. He could only imagine the scandal that would take flame if the truth became common knowledge. There would be damning consequences to her reputation if a scandal broke. Hell, if the ton found out her real name, his would fare no better.

Wincing, he rubbed his shoulder. Although mending, it still reminded him of his adventure of the week past. He glanced around the tavern and wondered briefly why he agreed to meet with Sebastian in Coniferth, a small country village outside of London. He looked over at his companion, who finished off his glass of ale.

Sebastian Byrne, an old friend of his from the past - more importantly he had been Roland’s also - motioned to the proprietor for another round. He smiled wryly at Julian.

“You’re paying, are you not?” Sebastian said, accepting a new drink.

“But of course, as always,” Julian replied. Taking a swig, Sebastian laughed.

Julian had many acquaintances, but none he trusted as he did Sebastian. Although Sebastian had the misfortune of being born on the wrong side of the blanket, he had the good grace of his father, the Marquess of Lentfield, and with such allowed certain privileges not afforded to most born in his circumstance. Having his father’s acknowledgement, he served now as a MP of this region.

Having only wed five months earlier to Miss Henrietta Borough from Middlesex, Sebastian had established himself firmly into good society. Miss Borough came from an old and highly respected family having the heritage, if not the titles, to prove her claim upon society. An excellent arrangement, Julian thought at the time, even considering he was not one of her favorite people.

“I would have been delighted to meet you at my home, but your presence might disturb Henrietta at the moment, for I’m under the assumption that you are about to ask me a favor. Since I believe Henrietta fears you have a negative influence upon me, meeting here makes the most sense until I hear you out. Of course, I told her our…my wild days are behind me,” Sebastian conveyed to Julian, leaning back in his chair.

“I’m not here to invite you to an orgy. And if my memory serves me well, it was not I that…”

Julian was unable to finish the sentence before Sebastian finished his thought.

"Perhaps that is what I don’t want Henrietta to find out. At the moment she believes I can do no wrong. I find I quite like it that way.”

“A sentiment I have yet to undertake, my dear fellow, and one I have no desire to at the moment. I have more pressing needs. I need your help.”

“To be honest, Julian, I had expected to see you. I heard about the incident at the Cat and the Fiddle. I take it you met Sir Rupert Ingleby. I wouldn’t be holding my breath for help on this one from him, not if you expect him to question anyone connected to Sinclair. Values his status.”

“Didn’t expect him to. Some subtle inquiries, though. It would be my thought someone stole Sinclair's card.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged. How is your arm?”

“It is still stiff and sore, as you can imagine. It will heal.” Julian paused. “There is more to the story than I assume has been circulated.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows rose. He leaned over the table. “Are you about to tell me a sordid tale? Do you need a second?”

Julian ignored the insinuation. Instead he said bluntly, “It’s about Roland. I need your help in finding his killer.”

Nothing more needed to be said to sober the moment. Sebastian sat and listened to Julian’s tale without a word until he finished.

“So,” Sebastian said after a period of silence. “What do you want of me? You know I will do whatever you need.”

“It is all confusing, Sebastian. I need to speak to General Treadwell. Undoubtedly I will be treading on dangerous ground, digging up what no one wants to relive. Much has been hidden from me about this guardianship to the girl. I know for a certainty someone tried to kill her and she holds to her father’s innocence so much she is about to endeavor in a foolhardy scheme to get herself killed.”

“Does anyone know--?”

“No,” Julian said soundly before Sebastian could finish his sentence.

Sebastian nodded and placed his glass down in front of him. “First, Julian, we need to establish what exactly we are looking for. Even if someone killed Hythe and it was not suicide, it does not clear his name. He still could have been a traitor.”

“I have to know, Sebastian. If you don’t want to get involved, I will understand, Sebastian. I trust no one else, but I don’t know whom I’m seeking. All I can assume is that it must be someone of power to weld such an elaborate scheme. What I need most is the direction to look.”

“Do not say more. Roland was as dear to me as you. He was my brother also, in spirit,” Sebastian said. “Come. Let’s withdraw back to my home. I’m going back to London with you. Henrietta will not be happy, but if I have to face her wrath, I will use you as a shield.”

Chapter Four

Alyce stared out an open window at a brilliant spring day. A bright cloudless sky reigned over a newly woken garden filled with fragrant blooms and singing birds. Alyce wished nothing more than to be able to take a stroll outside within the beauty the garden offered. Instead she stood on a pedestal before a mirror with pins and needles flying at her at an alarming rate. Charles deemed her to be fitted with a wardrobe worthy of a queen, and all within three weeks’ time.

The fear which encapsulated her...the fire, the men at the inn...seemed like a nightmare from which she had awakened from unscathed. Although, if the truth be told, another emotion lingered. Try as she might, she couldn’t rid Lord Casvelyn from her mind...his presence, his kiss, his eyes locked upon her medallion…but Charles had come for her and swept her away to London. Dear, sweet Charles.

“We need only to concentrate on what’s ahead for us, Alyce,” he said on their journey into London. He refused for her to talk of uncertainties, assuring her he would take care of all. “No one will harm you now or ever, Alyce. You know you can trust me. I will keep you safe. No one would dare attempt to harm you in my care. I wish you had written to me earlier. You have stayed on the Cornish shores too long, for they have you believing in their legends.”

“Don’t simply dismiss me, Charles. You may well think I’ve gone mad, but the dreams seemed so real. I heard someone calling to me and…and the man in my dreams…he looked like Lord Casvelyn. How else did I wake up in the dead of night? Why was I not in my bed when the assailant attacked?”

“Come, come, Alyce,” he said in a soothing voice. “It’s quite a simple explanation, my dear, when you think on your concerns. With the hope of finding Fennimore, it has caused memories to rekindle. The man in your dream could well be Lieutenant Casvelyn. It is my understanding Lord Casvelyn and your lieutenant were more than mere brothers, but twins. Quite natural for you to take one for the other. As how you woke, I would imagine unconsciously you heard their movements. It is the only logical explanation. How thankful I am that you did!

“And I do not make light of the situation. I can dismiss your spirits and visions, but I do not the intent of those who have tried to cause you harm. I feel it might well be my fault. All these years the thought was that you had left England. With my inquiries, it may have well caused someone to question.”

“But who, Charles? I have never done harm to anyone.” Alyce spoke, unable to contain her fright.

“It would be my conjecture it has nothing to do with any of your actions, but rather…”

“Who I am,” she answered him with conviction. “That I am the daughter of a traitor. The most hated man in England. What is it that your father called me…a daughter of deceit!”

“It is that matter that I will take care of. I’m close, Alyce. I promised you a long time ago that I would help you find the truth.”

She had not said another word, but leaned her head against his shoulder. She had no desire for him to see her tears. Even now the hurt ran deep. She had not known, until she turned seventeen and only then by necessity, of what the nation thought of her beloved father. Charles had told her.

Charles seemed determined to turn her attention away from her problems. In that he succeeded. For as long as she could remember, their friendship had been bound by the land she lived. Only on special occasions had she been allowed to attend social functions.

Confusion suffused within Alyce on the journey, for Charles took such special care to ensure proprieties. Without hesitation, Charles discharged Aunt Emma and Uncle Munford and sent them back to Lancefield. Then Alyce discovered at their next stop a carriage awaited them, the Marquess of Rotheward's carriage, along with Lissa and her maid. Surprised, for in the past, pains had been taken to ensure Alyce would not draw attention to herself.

All seemed to have changed. On their arrival, Charles escorted Alyce up the steps to the entrance of his home for all to see. With her arm secured upon his, Charles led her through his impressive home. She hoped her apprehension was not apparent, for she felt eyes inspect her the moment she ascended up the steps.

The vestibule opened wide into a grand hallway with a huge expanding staircase in front of her. A gilded ceiling with a hanging chandelier fitted with dozens of candles lit the entrance way. The marble floor glistened beneath her feet; the walls were covered in scenic wall paper. The large grandfather clock chimed three o’clock while she walked past it.

Despite herself, nervousness gripped her. In the journey to London she had told herself Charles would never have made such a display of her appearance without reason. He would never place her in a situation in which she would be compromised. But too much experience within her life had her anxious about the situation.

Charles showed Alyce to her chamber himself. Absolutely gorgeous. Her gaze took in the deep burgundy silk bed hangings and drapes. The room was filled with elegant, finely carved mahogany furniture. Exquisite watercolor paintings lined the dark wine colored walls.

His promise he held and continued to see that all proprieties were seen to. He called upon Lissa to insure Alyce had the proper chaperone along with Lissa's staunch mother-in-law, Lady Beatrice Breck.

“I want none to question you being my guest. My father has talked Lord Wallaby into lending me his townhouse. He is laid up in the country with a broken leg and has no other use it for at the moment. Lady Breck has graciously offered to launch you into society,” Charles offered Alyce before their arrival. “A Season. A Season for you.”

“All these arrangements for me? It is so much to comprehend, Charles. I have never had others alter their plans for me. I will have to show my appreciation to Lady Breck.”

Charles chuckled. “I would not worry too much about the appreciation, Alyce. I assure you she is being well taken care of for her actions.”

Over the last week, Alyce worried deeply about Charles’s actions. She feared his father would descend down upon her. In truth, that thought scared her more than the attempts upon her life. His lordship had made no qualms about her friendship with his son. The Duke of Arungdon thought her a stigma on his good name, the stigma of being George Hythe’s daughter.

She had long contemplated her damnation upon her every action. To her, hell was not only fire and brimstone but also living within a circle of lies she had been forced into since her father’s death. Lies of who she really was and would always be, no matter the name she was called by. No name could make her forget her father.

It had been nearly eight years since she had last seen her father, but every day she had thought of him, longed for his presence, and mourned his departure from her life. Before her father had died, he had been her world. For most of their life together, there had only been the two of them. Her mother had long passed away, giving birth to a brother who never took a breath of life. Eight years since her world shattered. And now? Oh, whatever have I agreed to do?

She sighed heavily and pushed back her hair. She would do as Charles planned. She would never refuse Charles a request. He had been her only friend when she had none. How sad she was when she arrived upon the Cornish shores. How quickly her life changed!

The day she was told her father passed etched in her mind for eternity. The exact words she didn’t remember, for they rang through her mind as a mist in a fog; she remembered only that the strangers told her that her beloved father had been found dead in his study in London. There had been no funeral to attend for her, no outward mourning allowed. She had been whisked away to a strange place.

Alyce had never met Colonel Tolworthy before she had shown him the medallion. With that act, her life altered. Soon after, she was being told the colonel had become her guardian, and then was sent to live along the Cornish shore. She lived in a small quaint cottage along the ocean shore with the two people who she was fostered upon; told to the community she was their cousin’s orphaned child, Alyce Rufford.

With no more servants to attend to her needs, no father to protect her, she fell into a different role. Alone, so terribly alone, the hurt cut deep. So many questions with no answers. She learned quickly she had no time for self-pity. Instead, she fended for her own needs, for neither Aunt Emma nor Uncle Munford, as she was instructed to call them, were up to the task.

Over time, she had come to love her new home along the moorlands. Her first glimpse within the morning light gave way to the open sea. Flowers abounded along the banks: sea pinks, red, and white valerian mingled with the deep purple of heather. She had been allowed freedom to ride along the beach, walk in the sand, to feel the waves crash around her feet. But the freedom came with a price of a solitary existence.

The older she became, the more aware she became of her uncertain future, never more than at this moment in time. Yet here she stood in the midst of preparing for a London Season.

At Charles’s insistence a whole of a new wardrobe had been ordered for her. It was not only the wardrobe she had been bombarded with, but the etiquette forced upon her to become a lady. She was given a maid to care for her appearance, which she found cumbersome indeed. She had not been waited upon since before her father’s death and especially not the last years. In truth, it had been herself that had seen to the needs of others.

Alyce supposed that Lissa expected her to pick up immediately the demeanor of a proper lady, the demeanor Lissa demonstrated. Alyce frowned at the suggestion. She supposed over time she would learn to suppress her emotions and to learn to speak at the appropriate intervals. Though, to be honest, she dearly missed her freedom, especially when Lady Breck reprimanded her on an inadequacy which seemed to be every time she opened her mouth or walked into a room.

No more did she have the open freedom to talk with Charles as they did on the moors, spending hours talking without fear of consequences. The house was filled with servants on every corner; besides there were also the frequent visitors of Lady Breck’s. Time alone with Charles had become quite scarce, only when they could escape into the gardens for a stroll were they able to be alone.

“We can’t have too many whispers behind your back,” Charles said on their first stroll after she arrived. “There is so much to put into place for us to accomplish our goals, my dear Alyce.”

“I have complete faith in you, Charles. You know that.”

“Ah, but I did not keep you out of harm’s way. Had I even suspected someone would try to harm a hair upon your head, I would have come myself…”

“Ssh,” she placed her finger upon his lips. “I’m fine. I survived the fire and at the inn...Lord Casvelyn.”

“Lord Casvelyn! He is a dangerous man, himself, Alyce. Far be it for me to warn you, my dear, but you best stay well away from him. It is my hope that we will not encounter him. I believe he will want to keep his distance.”

“Perhaps you should have warned me before.”

“Perhaps I should have, but how you did not surmise a relationship when you heard his name?”

“I don’t think I heard it properly. There was so much going on, Charles. You do not know. Besides I never thought of the lieutenant as anything other than lieutenant, although I admit to feeling a connection when meeting Lord Casvelyn.”

“Connection? My girl, never in my wildest dreams did I ever believe I would retrieve you from one of the most notorious rakes of all England’s bedroom and still retain your virginity.”

“Charles!” Alyce uttered louder than she intended. Her face warmed at the suggestion, remembering the passionate embrace she had shared with Lord Casvelyn. She turned from Charles, not wanting him to see her face flame. Only Charles could talk to her in this manner, honestly and kiddingly. He was her best friend, her only friend, except for Lissa.

“I think you protest a tad too much, my dear. Not that I blame you. You are far too innocent for this world at times, Alyce, but put your guard up when it comes to Lord Casvelyn. He is your enemy. Remember he knew nothing of your existence, but he has made clear he holds all the Hythe family in contempt, even though your family disowned you and your father.”

“He did not seem so, Charles,” her voice teetered upon a whisper. “He saved me, you forget. If he knew the truth…”

“Do not kid yourself, Alyce. You are a desirable woman, not quite as sophisticated as he is usually seen with, but appealing nonetheless. I’m certain that caught his eye. I did not lie when I said he was a rake, a heartless soul. He is not known as the Callous Earl without cause. It is best you stay far away from him. I will handle any issues that come up concerning your guardian.”

His words bothered her. She had already reprimanded herself greatly for allowing such behavior from a man. A lady would never have allowed him to kiss her in that manner, much less… She had never expected a man to be so bold in his intent. She was quite unprepared, but with the admission came the acknowledgement of the special power the man wielded over her instantly with his touch.

Charles was right. Lord Casvelyn had been dallying with her, which implied her thought her fast. Charles lectured her within the carriage ride to London she was too naïve in such matters. She countered that she had not been exposed to such, hidden away as she was. No, the only man she had been exposed to had been that God awful man whom the colonel deemed a suitable bridegroom for her.

When the colonel visited with the repulsive leech of a man, telling her he had arranged her marriage, she adamantly refused, threatening to run away if he forced her. It took all she had to sit through a dinner with him by her side. When she found herself left alone with the wretched creature, she could barely keep his hands off of her. All she could remember was how her skin crawled from his touch, unlike Lord Casvelyn and so...so different than Charles.

But Charles was different. It had been that difference that formed their strong friendship. She loved Charles in a way she could never describe to another living soul. They were kindred souls, each with a burden to bear. A burden placed upon them by an unforgiving society: she branded by her father’s deeds; his by his preference in love. If known to the world, both would be ostracized and hated.

Her existence on the moors had been simple and quiet. She had been allowed to be educated alongside of Melissa Claire Cranleigh, the youngest daughter of Lord Nigel Cranleigh, Lissa as she called her. It was there she met Charles, Lord Nigel Cranleigh’s nephew. The years between them hadn’t hindered their friendship. Long Alyce had thought they had been destined to meet.

Etched in her memory forever was the day Charles confessed his secret to her. Standing at the edge of the cliff, he stood so solemnly with sadness encompassing his being. He scared her, looking out over the cliffs to the rocks below. The ocean pounded against the sides of the cliffs. She pressed him into telling her his secret, her small hand in his, pulling him back.

Looking back, she supposed he said all to shock her, to make her run from him. Instead, she asked simply why it would make a difference to her. He was her friend, her only friend that understood her. She loved him and needed him. She didn’t remember how they ended up sitting on the ground, him weeping in her arms, but she did know from that day their friendship was bonded, forged in a manner like no other.

In turn, over time, Charles told her the awful secret kept from her...to the world her beloved father had committed suicide after being discovered as a traitor, a turncoat spy for the Americans!

Never would she forget the overwhelming sensation of wretchedness which encompassed her. She steadfastly refused to accept her father a traitor. Never! From the moment she was told of her father’s fate, she plotted to prove his innocence. Once, three years earlier, she had been allowed to accompany Lissa to London after her friend became engaged to the Honorable Thomas Breck. Considered an acceptable marriage for Lissa, with Thomas being a third son to the Earl of Clathess, Alyce found him overbearing and odious. For some strange reason to her, the loathsome oaf who made no secret he despised Alyce had been deemed perfect for Lissa.

Pondering the situation, Alyce assessed that given Breck seemed to be an ambitious sort with grand political aspirations that he must in that capacity be thought to be a help to the duke. In truth, Lissa seemed well infatuated with her intended. Alyce saw also the opportunity while in London preparing for the wedding an excuse to find her father’s man, Fennimore.

Charles anticipated that Fennimore would hold the information she needed to prove her father's innocence. Long had Charles and herself played out the possible scenarios of her father's death. Both had come to the conclusion that Fennimore must be found in order to clear her father.

Since Alyce remembered a female had visited with Fennimore at the townhouse shortly before her father’s death, both Charles and Alyce clung to the improbability that this woman held the link to finding Fennimore. She distinctly remembered Fennimore introducing the lady as his sister, although he seemed quite upset when she called on him. The woman had not stayed long but Alyce recalled her asking Fennimore if he was to call upon her at her new address, something Seymour Street. She remembered because she thought it funny the lady lived on the same street as her last name and the lady had her first name. Mary…Mary Seymour.

The conjecture held the lady would know where her brother resided. Surprisingly, finding Mrs. Mary Seymour had not been the issue. Well, Alyce thought, Charles had no issue finding information on Fennimore from his description along Seymour Street. Alyce had not accompanied Charles on his mission. Discovering that the woman wasn’t Fennimore’s sister but a “friend,” according to Charles, set their hopes back. The whole of the trip went for naught when Charles’s father intervened.

How Lord Tregilgas discovered their plan, Alyce never knew, but foil it he had. The large, intimidating man flared openly at the two of them. How dare she drag his son and his name into the scandal! Not his son!

Alyce had long pondered on Lord Tregilgas’s outburst. Without question, the man knew her history. The realization dawned upon her that association with her was as getting the plague, a certain sign of death! She may not have known the whole of the story of her father, but she needed nothing else to know how hated her father had become in England.

Colonel Tolworthy had been no help when she saw him, which was not often. His answer to her dilemma was to never to disclose her true identity, which seemed illogical to her. His only concern seemed to get her safely married off quietly. That, Alyce thought, would never happen. She had long accepted the fact that a marriage for her would be an impossibility, a realization that both Charles and she had come to accept as both their fates.

Now, though, Charles proposed a new approach - to throw caution to the wind. Take London by storm…

Suddenly her attention turned from her thoughts as a loud voice bellowed at the door. “What have you done with my Alyce? Who is this beauty?”

Alyce turned and faced Charles. How handsome he was; no, really beautiful, if a man could be thought of in that light. He wore only the most fashionable of wigs, showcasing his classic features from his high cheekbones to his firm jaw. His large sky blue eyes, and the longest dark eyelashes that all the ladies would be envious of, met hers. He was wearing a coat of heavy brandy-colored silk, cut simply to his form. Embroidered vines of gold lined his buttons and around the hem. His boots gleamed. Moreover, his face shone with happiness upon her appearance.

The seamstress cried out with Alyce’s movements, having pinched herself with a pin. Alyce looked back only a moment before she stepped off the pedestal. Once more her eyes lit upon Charles.

“Charles, should you be within this room?” Lissa asked softly. Having sat in silence watching the seamstress work, she rose. “Alyce is in the middle of alterations.”

A roaring laugh erupted from Charles. "If I’m paying for all, I have a right to inspect. Do I not, Alyce?”

“I would not want to disappoint you, my lord,” Alyce teased. She swirled her skirt. “Do you like it?”

“I like everything about you.” His eyes sparkled at her when he answered. Taking her hand, he twirled her around. “Ah, what about…” He reached over and tugged under her arms, pushing the material tighter against her bosom. “Now, I like.”

“My lord!” the unsettled seamstress objected. “Does that not expose too much?”

Charles shook his head. “Oh, do not question my fashion, dear lady. I saw Lady Spencer only the other night at the duke’s dinner showing much more than this. I believe I told you I want my lady to shine. She is not going to be a simple wallflower.”

“You do not have to worry, my lord. The lady is beautiful, no matter the gown.”

Alyce repressed a laugh. No matter if she looked as a haggard beggar woman would the seamstress go against Charles’s assessment. Charles waved his hand in a manner that the seamstress withdrew quickly.

“Now, Alyce, quickly change. I have a matter to discuss. Afterwards, we can take refreshments with Lissa.” Charles turned to his cousin, who he all but had ignored.

“I suppose I will do what you want, Charles, as I have since you brought Alyce to me. You know I do not care, but Thomas is becoming greatly agitated. And his mother...”

“Do you wish for me to talk with him?” Charles tilted his head, trying to read his cousin’s eyes. “If he is indeed irritated, he should come to me or my father.”

“Of course not.” Lissa’s eyes lowered.

Alyce shot a look at Charles. Could he not tell that Lissa was not in what one would deem a happy marriage? From only the few days she had been within the walls, Alyce had understood. She understood the scrutiny Lissa lived with: having to wear the perfect dress, say the right words, and the knowledge that her husband married her only for her connections to her uncle. She needed to tell Charles. Perhaps he could get Thomas not to be so mean to Lissa, especially in front of her.

Alyce leaned up to Charles’s face and kissed his cheek. “Give me but a moment. I’ll meet you down in the drawing room. Do you not think, Lissa?”

Alyce didn’t give Lissa time to answer. She whirled around, entwining her arm in Lissa’s and left the room, smiling back at Charles.

Much later than she intended, Alyce emerged within the drawing room, much to the pleasure of Charles. His face widened in a broad smile. Walking over, he took her hand and held it to his lips.

She had changed into a simple chemise dress, a deep raspberry color flattering her complexion, with a narrow sash. Her hair she wore down in a mass of curls, under the most elaborate of hats.

“Lovely, my dear Alyce, lovely. I’m so glad that you do not have to hide your hair under the camouflage of powder. It is such an attractive shade of brown,” he said, leading her to the settee. “You have settled nicely here in London. Haven’t you? You aren’t worried about your safety. Nothing suspicious?”

“No, no, of course not. You told me I’m safe. I have slept well. I do realize it may well be all the servants and footmen around. I don’t think someone could set fire to this house nor sneak into the house. I have slept soundly. Or perhaps it’s because you have Bella sleeping in the same room with me.”

“Bella?”

“My maid. The maid you hired for me, silly.”

“Lissa choose her, Alyce. I only told Lissa that someone needed to sleep in the same room because of your dreams. You have been through a lot these last few weeks. My one regret is that I was not there to retrieve you myself. I should have gone. It is what I want to talk to you about now.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Charles. How were you to know that someone would try to kill me? I’ve been thinking about it all and I think it’s a good sign…I mean, not that someone wants me dead, but that someone doesn’t want the truth to come out. It means Father didn’t do the awful things he was accused of…”

“I do believe in that light you are correct: it is a good sign, but we have to be cautious, Alyce. You can’t take chances. Father has a man looking into the situation.”

Alyce drew back slightly. His gaze left her feeling as though she had done something to be reprimanded.

“Your father?” she said, unable to contain her surprise in her voice. “Your father knows I’m here?”

“Alyce, you must realize that I could not do all that I have done without his knowledge and,” he paused, “help.”

“Help? I’m sorry, Charles, but I find that hard to imagine. After his display the last time he saw me…”

Charles held his hand up. “I know. I know, but he has helped. He was the one who saw to my position down at the Ministry. I suppose at first he thought it was only honorary. I thought otherwise. I have been working endlessly, trying to piece together the manner of your father’s death.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. She had not known Charles was investigating her father’s death. She thought only he was making discreet inquiries about Fennimore. “I don’t understand, Charles. Have you discovered who killed Father?”

“No, no,” he said in a soothing tone. “The further I dig into the incident, the more convinced I become that he was murdered. I’m afraid it may well be the reason someone has tried to killed you.”

“You think it’s connected to Fennimore’s letter?”

He nodded. “I believe someone got wind of the letter. In all probability it is how they discovered where you lived. You have to listen to me, Alyce. This is important. You can’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you.”

She nodded faintly while she fought the lurch of her stomach. Suddenly the room seemed to close in. For the last three years she had clung to the impossibility of proving her father’s innocence.

"Remember me asking you questions about your father - his habits, his characteristics, his routine?” He didn’t wait for her to reply. “Looking back over the notes pertaining to his death, I found a major discrepancy. You said your father was left handed, which was confirmed in his writings. I say this to confirm his preference. In the report it stated he had been shot once in the right side of the temple.”

Alyce sat back, but her eyes never left Charles’s face. “Then it is over. It proves Father didn’t kill himself.”

“I wish it was that simple, my pet. I was told it could be an error in the report. I could be mistaken that he was left handed. Your father could have turned his head, which made absolutely no sense. I know that I’m not wrong and am on the right track. I have also confirmed that your father was keeping track of certain shipments, which suggest to me he himself was looking for discrepancies.”

“So what does all this mean?”

“It means I need to find Fennimore if he is alive. I have done all that I could to find him. I was ecstatic to have a letter stating he wanted to meet with you, but looking back it may have been a ploy to discover where you were hidden by the ones behind your father’s death. It could well be the reason that someone tried to kill you.”

“Why would they want me dead?”

“If you want the truth, Alyce, it could be for a few reasons. Someone must believe that somehow you can connect them to the conspiracy or they don’t want you to meet up with Fennimore.”

“How could I know anything? I was but a child.”

“Ssh...my dear. It doesn’t matter now. Nothing is going to happen to you.” He reached over and pulled her into his shoulder. “It was then I went to Father with all I had. He agrees with me and my assessment, but we can’t make a move without solid evidence. Father agreed to bring you into London when I told him what I had planned for you.”

She lifted her head. “Your father agreed to my having a Season?”

“Yes, but probably not for the same reason as I,” he said solemnly. He reached under her chin. “You know, Alyce, I think of no one more than you.”

“I know, Charles.”

“Father had a talk with me a few weeks back. It was the reason I didn’t bring the letter myself to you.” He took a deep breath.

“Is something the matter, Charles? You are scaring me. What has happened?” Alyce’s tone conveyed her anxiety.

Immediately as a black cloud threatening rain, his expression darkened. He squeezed her hand tightly, scaring her. The lines around his lips tightened. “Oh, Alyce, I suppose I should tell you all. You know me better than anyone. Father has heard rumors about my love life, Alyce.”

Her hand went immediately to her mouth, covering her cry. “Oh, no! Charles, have I not cautioned you!”

He reached for her hand back and kissed it. “I know. You have. I have only used the utmost of caution. You know that Leopold is now serving as my secretary. It is not what I have wanted, but you were right when you said that few could question my actions with one who is to be by my side closely. Even with the caution, my father has heard.”

“Oh, whatever are you going to do? Your father! The ton! Charles!”

A small smile emerged on his face. “All is not lost, Alyce. Unfortunately, yes, Father confronted me. Needless to say he flew into a rage. Although we both know he shouldn't be shocked. I'm certain he has had his suspicions.”

Alyce shivered upon the mention of Charles’s father, Lord Harold Tregilgas, Duke of Arungdon, and one of the most intimidating men Alyce had ever met. She had no desire ever to repeat her last encounter with that man.

Now, though, her attention was upon her oldest and dearest friend. She studied his face intently. Notorious for his high humor and indisputable laugh, she comprehended well he hid behind the facade at times. Fearing he would descend into one of his dark moods, she searched for signs of such, but could find none.

"Charles, please tell me, whatever are you going to do?"

"Why, Alyce, cause a distraction worth far more talk than a whisper behind my back!" he said. “Of course, it depends upon you.”

A hush fell over the room. Alyce sat back as comprehension of his words sank within her. She understood Charles’s intent. Charles wanted to use her. If necessary to camouflage his love affair with Leopold, he would cause a scandal of his own design.

She looked up at him and said not as a question but fact,  “What scheme are you contemplating, Charles? Do not tell me that you want me to become the distraction.”

“Such a beautiful distraction, I might add.” A large grin emerged upon his face.

“Come, Alyce, would it not solve both our issues? Listen,” he urged while promises ran fluidly out of his mouth. “This will work to both our advantage. Everyone will love such a tragic love affair. A forbidden love. Whispers will start to why I have not courted another. All will be explained with you in the wings. For you...a perfect opportunity to learn the truth. You do this for me and I promise I will be relentless in pursuit of your goal. My father also.”

“I don’t know, Charles. Do you think it’s a good idea? What if all discover my true name before we have time to clear my father? Remember your father was worried I would tarnish your name. How could he now…?”

“Come Alyce, have you not wondered why Father hasn’t had any objections to your visit? Of course I would have taken you in, no matter, but Father has seen to Lissa and Lady Breck overseeing your launch into society, much over Thomas’s objections, I should add.”

Alyce did not doubt his words. Lord Tregilgas may not agree with his son’s lifestyle but he loved his only son, his heir. In that love grew a protectiveness that she understood well. Not that she trusted Lord Tregilgas. No, she trusted Charles. The promise of a scandal must loom large for Charles.

For a moment a vision confronted Alyce of being ridiculed, scorned, and mocked at the functions that Charles was planning on her attending. Then in the next breath, she saw her friend ostracized from his society. A society she had never known.

“If you think it best, Charles, I will do it. You’re my best friend and I will do whatever you see fit.”

He pulled her into an embrace. “I had no doubt!” he cried. “You will see. All will work to our advantage. For my darling Alyce, I have a plan. You knew I must. I know you think all will turn their backs to you. I myself understand that my father doesn’t care. It will be told we have known each other for a long time. It will be enough to be seen with you, to show the world I love you. For it will be evident to all around that we care for each other. Then, even if the ton discovers the truth and turns their back on you, Father will deem it best to place you back in the darkness. Most will think I have set you up as my mistress…”

“Oh, Charles…I could never!” The words escaped her mouth before she had time to contemplate them.

Charles took Alyce by the shoulders and turned her to him. “I said that was what Father has in mind. He wants everyone to talk of my lover, you. Not my lover, Leopold. If I cause a scandal with you by my side, the other will dissipate into thin air. But what Father does not understand is that I’m set to prove your father’s innocence. We will together. Then there will be nothing to stand in our way. I have thought of it for a long time. It is the perfect solution.”

“You have me so confused, Charles. Now, what are you talking of?”

“Do we not love each other, Alyce? Oh, it might not be the passionate love one feels in an ardent love affair, but as with life, that love will diminish. Our love will always be. I have brought you here, not to be scorned, but to be groomed. For after we prove your father’s innocence, there will be nothing standing in our way.” He tilted his head in a manner to see into her eyes. “I want you to become my wife, Alyce. And in time, you will be the next Duchess of Arungdon.”

Chapter Five

General Robert Treadwell had been Roland’s commanding officer during the Southern Campaign. Julian recognized him the moment he walked in the coffeehouse: a thin, well-bearing man who carried himself as if he still served in His Majesty’s Service and just as prompt. He appeared exactly at the time designated, with the room filled to the brim with patrons reading newspapers and smoking cigars.

Julian had his reasons to keep the meeting low key, mainly having no desire to call attention to his suspicions. He had come alone to meet with the general. Sebastian had advised against it, but this was his to face. His frustration at his grandfather festered with the knowledge of all that had been kept from him. That knowledge may well have placed all involved in danger, especially now with the attempts upon the girl’s life that couldn’t be ignored or denied.

There had to be a reason to the madness and he intended to find out. Julian nodded to the older gentleman, gesturing for him to take a seat. General Treadwell sat. His eyebrows rose in a manner of inquiry.

Julian wasted no time in coming to the point of their meeting. “I realize you must wonder why I asked to meet you here. I apologize for the necessity, but as of late there have been a few developments that I find I need to discover the reasons for. I believe that you, General Treadwell, may well hold the answers I need.”

Julian stared at General Treadwell, who didn’t seem anxious to offer information of any kind. Julian watched and waited while the general ordered and was served a large cup of thick liquid. The man finally said, “Would you like a cup?”

“It won’t be necessary,” Julian answered with an impatience he didn't bother to hide. “I don’t think the information I seek will take long.”

“And that would be?”

“I want to know how my brother died.”

He watched the general’s expression turn firm as if he saw something in Julian’s face that bothered him, although his face revealed little of his inner thoughts and conveyed nothing in his mannerism. Julian met the general with all the frustration built up within him. He had no patience for being put off in any form. For eight years he had believed a lie and this man had the answer. Of that he was certain.

His grandfather had begged him caution. “With all that has happened, Julian, it is well out of our hands. I believe the words I was told. Roland died honorably. I wasn’t going to let anything taint his name. After that, I have no knowledge. The whole of the incident has been decreed closed.”

No, Julian thought, the case wasn’t closed. His brother was dead. Doubts swirled about the man he believed had murdered his brother. That meant one thing and one thing only to Julian. Roland’s murderer still lived.

“Lord Casvelyn, I don’t mean to be impertinent, but I believe all was relayed to your grandfather and your person after all the details were put into place.” The general reflected in his low voice he wanted Julian to accept the version as most had over the years.

Julian sat in silence. He leaned back in the chair and faced the general squarely. “And if I don’t believe a damn word of that report?”

“The reason?”

“A recent incident in which I discovered Hythe’s daughter. She is living very much within England, having been hidden away from all eyes. My grandfather’s guardianship of the girl. The men that have set to protect her inheritance. None would have done so if Hythe killed Roland. I took the word of all around me. I seemed to have misplaced my faith.”

The general’s jaw hardened. His mouth stretched in a thin-lipped line. He said stoically, “Are you certain you want to go down this path, Lord Casvelyn? It may lead to revelations you may not want out.”

Julian laughed a short curt laugh. “I’m not my grandfather, general. He may have worried that Roland got caught in a situation over his head, but I was his brother. If I have known anything in my life, I knew my brother. He would never have betrayed his country. So let’s try this again. What happened to my brother?”

“You sound just as he did,” General Treadwell sighed heavily, shaking his head. “But you don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I know damn well what I’m asking. I have been kept in the dark these many years. I have only just discovered you talked my grandfather into a guardianship over George Hythe’s daughter. I know that at least twice in the last couple of weeks her life has been threatened because she began her own inquiry into her father’s death. I don’t believe that inquiry would cause her life to be endangered unless someone somewhere wants the past to remain in the past.”

The information drew an immediate reaction from the general. “Mary? Someone tried to harm Mary?”

Julian nodded. “I know for a fact, for I thwarted one attempt myself. At the moment she is safely within London.”

“I thought…” General Treadwell grimaced. He ran his hand over his chin, anxious in manner. He looked up at Julian. “You give your word as a gentleman, Lord Casvelyn, that you seek only the truth?”

“I would not be here otherwise.”

“Then meet me at my home tomorrow night.”

Cloak and dagger adventures weren’t in Julian’s nature. Roland had been the adventurous one. Julian had no doubt that the general felt the anger yesterday he held against the man he held responsible for his brother’s death, but in truth his anger at this man was laced with grief as well. If he hoped to gain information he would have to suppress those feelings.

General Treadwell’s house was in a decent section of London, not far from Bedford Square. Julian entered through the back entrance along the garden’s path. The general had one of his servants watching for him and he was immediately shown into the library, having been told the general would be in momentarily. He walked over to the fire and took a seat in a high-backed leather chair. As was promised, within moments he heard boot steps sound in the hallway.

The general entered and looked at Julian with a smug, satisfied expression. "Would you care for a drink?"

Not waiting for an answer, the general walked over to a small cabinet and removed a decanter of spirits. Pouring a couple of glasses, he handed one to Julian and then casually walked across to his desk.

Julian watched the general, over the brim of the glass, lift papers out of a drawer. In the candle-lit room he met Julian’s eyes with an intense stare before he settled in a chair to the side of Julian.

“I apologize once more for not inviting you to dinner. I hope you understand the necessity of secrecy in our involvement together.”

“But of course,” Julian answered bluntly. He had wondered if the general had had second thoughts about his revealing this information to him, but with his actions Julian sensed his cooperation.

“We will not be disturbed. My wife has retired for the night. My daughters have long since married and no longer reside under my roof. There is no one else in the house besides the few servants, all loyal, I assure you.

"I believe it best to start at the beginning. Please have patience with an old man. I have been thinking upon it all day what exactly to say to you. How much do you need to know? I decided that for you to decipher the entangled web of lies that has been cast you need to know as much about the Honorable George Hythe as I can impart to you."

"I'm not sure I understand your meaning."

"George Hythe was a friend, Lord Casvelyn. Perhaps not at the beginning, but if you met George Hythe you would understand my statement. He had an abrupt personality at times, but he was a man of action. During the war in the colonies he placed himself in harm’s way numerous times. He barely escaped out of Charles Town when the Patriots discovered his dealings before Charles Town fell back under our control. His home was raided. Hythe was not a soldier, but a civilian who risked his life for his country.

“It was in his business dealings that he discovered British supplies were being smuggled into the colonies. Of course, this was to be expected, but the weapons' sales were disturbing. The weapons were His Majesty’s own. Someone was profiting, selling to the Patriots our own guns and gunpowder. It was on this matter that I met with George when I was stationed in Savannah. I had known George from his older brother, James. George helped us locate the culprits on the shores of the Carolinas. That was the time that Lieutenant Casvelyn was assigned to help him, along with John Quail. The operation was a success, but unfortunately Lieutenant Quail was killed during an attempted raid and George had to return to England.

“With his departure, the Home Office felt we could use him to uncover the conspiracy, for without question there was no way the whole scheme was put in place without knowledge from within the ranks, high in the ranks.”

Julian studied the man in front of him. The man was imparting the necessary information as if he recited it from memory, rarely glancing down at the papers before him. The general appeared weary and chagrined, giving evidence of the effect the incident still held upon him, but Julian was under no illusions that the information he sought would be in those pages. He wanted only one answer.

General Treadwell tilted back with his finger pointing straight at Julian. “Now, your lordship, the question for you is what you are going to do with the next piece of information. Your brother worked side by side with this man, whom I know he began to look upon as a father figure, as George looked upon Lieutenant Casvelyn as a son he never had.”

“I want the truth, General Treadwell. I will deal with information in a manner which will uncover the truth.”

“You, Lord Casvelyn, could indeed do so with your position, but I have only one more question. What purpose will it serve you? What do you hope to gain? As I assured your grandfather, your brother died honorably. That fact will not change.”

“General Treadwell, I do not question my brother died in service to the crown. What I do question is who killed him and why? For the life of me, I cannot understand this deception. You also seem to hold a man who has been labeled a traitor against the crown in high esteem.”

“The powers above me deemed it the best course of action to handle the scandal that erupted. I will lay out all my information to the best of my ability, and you will understand. George Hythe died with a pistol shot in the temple at his London residence, in my opinion by a man hired specifically for that purpose. George had sent me a note that night; he had uncovered the whole of the conspiracy. After that, all is speculation. It is my belief that his man Fennimore was there that night and saw all happen. For some reason, your brother took George’s daughter and removed her from the residence and brought her to your grandfather.

“From London it is a hard long ride on horseback. He brought the girl up in a carriage. Her story is that she was swept out of bed in the dead of night and taken to your grandfather’s. Your brother saw to her welfare and returned immediately to receive the same fate as Hythe. I often surmised that whoever killed Hythe did so and waited for the lieutenant to return.

“No sooner had I expressed my opinion did the powers above me descend down, decreeing the conspiracy had been unearthed. George Hythe was named the traitor and Lieutenant Casvelyn killed when he discovered the deception. After killing your brother, Hythe supposedly killed himself when the authorities appeared at his door, supposedly having been caught. None of that was true, but it was the accepted story.”

Julian struggled to contain a rage building within him. Disbelief and doubt crept in with the outrageous tale.  In the past he had ignored any misgivings he had had about his brother’s death. He had accepted the fabricated story as the truth.

“Why? Why the elaborate deception?”

General Treadwell swirled his glass before sipping his port once more. His expression relaxed until a small smile formed at the edge of his lips.

“Think, Lord Casvelyn. To cover for someone else’s misdeed. Someone high and I do not mean the military. I believe it was within your circle, my lord. I have my suspicions. I believe that Hythe hadn’t a chance when all collapsed around him. I believe he was caught within a web of deception. His own family had dealings in these affairs, if I haven’t missed my guess. At the least, someone allowed Hythe’s name to be associated with gambling debts, which was preposterous. No debts surfaced after his death.

“The only other logical assessment to be made is that there was a third party involved. One that was trusted. In the manner of his death, it seemed that your brother trusted the individual, for he put up no defense and was taken completely by surprise. That part of the incident was not falsified.”

General Treadwell handed a sheet of paper to Julian. “It is the description of the scene. Read it over. Remember every detail. If you do indeed decide to begin this venture of finding your brother’s killer, you will need to know it well.”

Julian glanced at the papers. He would give them to Sebastian to study. He looked back up at General Treadwell. He said without emotion, “What happened to Fennimore? Where can I find him?”

General Treadwell shrugged slightly. “He disappeared. My guess is either he was paid handsomely to become a ghost or he has become a ghost in truth. The latter is the more probable explanation.”

Julian leaned back in his chair. “What if he reemerged?”

General Treadwell shook his head. “Highly unlikely.”

“But if he did reappear, it would explain why someone would be out to kill Alyce, would it not?”

The general rubbed his forehead as if his head pounded, with his cigar still in his hand. “She is the complication. If I have done nothing else for George, I promised myself I would keep her safe. If she has gone on some foolhardy venture, she will get herself killed. You must stop her.”

“I don’t know if I’m in position to do so, General Treadwell. She is in London and I believe specifically to ruffle feathers. If what you say is true, she will with her words.”

General Treadwell’s eyes bulged while his hands twisted his cigar. “I will not have it. No! Do you understand? I have done all to protect her from the world around her. She is no different than her father!”

For a moment his words meant nothing. Then they sank within. Comprehension dawned upon him. General Treadwell had hid Alyce from the world when he asked his grandfather to be her guardian. If someone looked for her, the last place on earth would be with the family of the man who he had supposedly betrayed.

“Why, general? Why does she need to be hidden?”

“By heaven! I told the colonel to send her across the ocean,” he muttered under his breath. He turned back to Julian. “I’m responsible for all this mess. It was I who cooked up the idea of George helping. He was on the inside, knew the shipping business, understood how they could smuggle the weapons out. I talked him into it. I assigned Lieutenant Quail and your brother to the mission. But Mary…” He paused a moment. Taking a deep breath in, he collected himself. “You have to excuse me, Lord Casvelyn. There is no way you can understand the connections you form in war. Granted, we know the risk. It is within our makeup as soldiers and we receive the rewards for all. But it is different with a child. George wasn’t a soldier. And thinking back now, I question the wisdom in having her by his side at all times, even when they returned.”

“I’m sorry, general, but you have me confused,” Julian interrupted the old man’s ramblings. “What has this to do with Alyce?”

“You asked me why someone would want her dead. I am telling you that there are reasons. First, her inheritance. I managed to shift her guardianship to your grandfather before Sir Hythe and his sons realized the wealth the girl inherited. Without blinking an eye, her grandfather disowned her for what he called her father’s actions and in the next breath fought for her guardianship after realizing what he had let slip through his fingers. All was done behind a closed curtain. Her family had no knowledge of who was given either her guardianship or her whereabouts. It was deemed the only honorable solution.”

“By all that’s in heaven! So you believe someone in her family discovered her whereabouts and it’s him you believe who wants her demise?”

“Patience, Lord Casvelyn. The whole of the situation is complicated at best. Yes, I believe that her Uncle James would be ecstatic with her untimely death, but did you not pay attention to my tale? George took his daughter everywhere with him. It is my belief that the persons responsible could well be afraid that she may remember if she saw them in the company of her father. It is a connection they may wish never to own. That, too, could be reason enough."

Which meant Alyce was still in danger. Whoever went to all this trouble would not stop with only an attempt. Moreover, it meant the cowardly bastard who murdered his brother still walked the earth. Julian looked at the general long and hard. "You understand that I cannot in good conscience leave all as it is. Not now."

General Treadwell exhaled heavily. "If it’s help you seek, I'm afraid you came to the wrong place. I have tried, to no avail, to correct the situation to the point that I was asked to retire."

Julian understood his concern. Less than a year after Roland's death, it came to his attention that General Treadwell had come to blows with his superiors, literally. From the information given to him, the old man decked one of the committee members. They wanted his head. Court martial. Disgrace. Julian stepped in at that point, unbeknownst to the general. He had asked for it to have been kept from the general. A favor. A sign of support for the old fellow. He had not heard any more of his circumstance since that time.

"It would be my thought, general, that if needed, you would answer. I could not imagine you letting a triviality interfere with seeking the truth."

"You are much as your brother, Lord Casvelyn. He was just as stubborn." He gave a short laugh. "I tell you this. It would give me great satisfaction to right the wrong done and flush the bloody bastard out. Then perhaps I would sleep soundly at night."

Chapter Six

Julian sat upon his finest stallion for his morning ride, an elegant spirited horse with a graceful gait. Sure to impress. Julian, known for his expertise in horsemanship, had a reputation to maintain. Riding in the early morning in Hyde Park was one activity of the Season he enjoyed, though not to admire the bevy of high-born young ladies.

“Ho! Julian!”

Julian glanced over his shoulder and reined in his mount to wait for Sebastian. Seeing the reason for the slow pace of his friend, an amused smile emerged upon his lips. A remarkably pretty woman rode beside Sebastian, a slender, shapely beauty accented by her smartly tailored riding habit.

"Ah, the lovely Mrs. Henrietta Byrne! I see you have blossomed under Sebastian’s care. Married life becomes you.”

"Oh do not jest with me, Lord Casvelyn,” Henrietta said. Blushing slightly, she gazed over at her husband. “I saw you no more than a couple of weeks ago. I do not suppose I changed much since that time.”

Julian’s eyebrows rose in a questioning manner. He looked over to his friend. He caught the modest flush and the look between the two. If he correctly surmised the exchange, his friend would soon be a father. He swallowed a chuckle. Sebastian a father. An inevitable conclusion to marriage, he supposed, but Sebastian…?

“Have you seen anyone of interest?” Sebastian asked in a clear attempt to abort the conversation.

Henrietta’s eyes lit up. “Oh, Sebastian, are you talking of the mysterious lady at the races? Lord Casvelyn, do you know of her? Is it not the most romantic tale? I had often wondered why Lord Tregilgas did not court.”

“Why, might I ask, would you think I had interest in this lady?” Julian asked while he shot his friend a stern look.

“Do not blame Sebastian. He asked me if anything exciting happened at the Derby on Sunday since he had matters to attend to. Though I have to confess, I thought it quite droll in his interest in Lord Tregilgas’s affairs,” Henrietta laughed. “Now I see that perhaps it is you that has the interest. Although I confess, not surprised. Quite a lovely young lady. The talk of the ton at the moment. No one seems to know from whence she came.”

“Why, might I ask, would you believe I would need your husband to obtain information for me on a lady? I can assure you I can handle my own affairs.”

“Oh, I do not doubt you can and do, my lord. Only, I doubt you have encountered such an opponent before. A marquess, heir to a dukedom and, I might add, quite handsome. I do believe you have much work before you if you are pursuing the lady. Oh,” she smiled brilliantly. “Just as we speak. I believe it is they.”

Julian turned slightly to catch a glimpse of the riders, ignoring Henrietta's smug smile. Along the sandy tracks of Ladies’ Mile rode a small group. Immediately, Julian’s eyes caught sight of Alyce, looking breathtakingly lovely, dressed in the most fashionable habit of dark emerald that only illuminated her beauty, with her hair pulled under her hat and a few locks free, framing her face in frilly curls.

Lord Tregilgas rode beside her, leaning over and whispering to her. She laughed at his words. The closer they approached Julian saw clearly her eyes gleamed at her companion. She had not noticed his presence until well upon them.

“Good day, Lord Tregilgas,” Julian offered, bowing his head to the ladies. “A fine day for a ride.”

“It is,” Tregilgas responded, looking as happy to see Julian as Julian did him. “I’m quite enjoying it, Lord Casvelyn. Let me introduce you to my companions.”

Immediately, he noticed Alyce flinch. She did not meet his eyes, but lowered them, refusing to look up. He acknowledged Tregilgas's introductions to his cousin and her husband. His eyes stayed on Alyce while he, in turn, introduced Sebastian and Henrietta.

Tregilgas smiled broadly after the proper etiquette was exchanged. He turned and nodded toward another group of riders. “I believe I see Lady Whitley. If you will excuse us, I do have to catch up…”

“If you please,” Julian interrupted. “I have wanted a word with you in private if you don’t mind. It will take only a moment. I’m sure you will have time to catch up with Lady Whitley.”

Julian broke with his mount down a small path, watching with intense interest Tregilgas’s actions toward Alyce. Shock spiraled through him to see Tregilgas reach over and squeeze Alyce’s hand in a reassuring manner. Such a gesture in public! If that man did such again, he was going to go over there and…and what? Unexpected emotions raged through him. Annoyance, anger, jealousy…

“Lord Tregilgas.” Julian urged with an impatience he regretted showing.

Lord Tregilgas did little to settle his rising irritation, trotting over to his side in the most arrogant, insolent manner. “Ah, a little privacy, I would say not for long. Quite crowded, old chap. I suppose I should offer an apology for not returning your note. I have to beg forgiveness; I have had such pressing matters.”

“In that, I can see,” Julian responded. “If we haven’t much time, then I will make it brief. What the bloody hell are you doing?”

“I’m not sure I understand your outrage, Lord Casvelyn. What am I doing? I’m caring for a dear friend, as I told you I would. More so, I might add, than her guardian has done in years.”

“Your actions act contrary to your words. You are showing her around as if she has been presented and that’s an impossibility. If word leaks of who she is…”

“It won’t. At least not yet. Would it shock you to know that our intention is to clear her father’s name? If not, it matters little to me. If you have not made assumptions by now, my intentions are quite honorable, unlike say…yours.”

Julian’s eyes bore into Tregilgas’s. The damn girl told him! Ignoring his remark, Julian’s tone rose with intensity. “Do I need to remind you that you have no legal hold on her? Grandfather is her legal guardian. I can assure you he wants her at Evermonde where she will be safe.”

“Safely out of the limelight and fear his guardianship becomes known.”

“Her life is endangered, Tregilgas,” Julian snapped, gone any pretense of etiquette or courtesy.

“That I know,” Tregilgas returned with the same passion. “Let me make myself clear upon Alyce. Clear enough so you will understand fully. I will take responsibility for her. She needs not her guardian at this point. I have seen to proprieties. Her needs, for the first time since her father’s death, will be seen to properly. You need not worry with her name becoming known. I have no intention of announcing it openly until we can clear her father because it would cause her hurt, not because it would embarrass you. So, Lord Casvelyn, you have one less concern upon you this day.”

Barely containing his temper, Julian countered, “How do you plan to present her to the royal court? Under an assumed name? How do you propose to cover it?”

Tregilgas smirked. “It has all been taken care of, Casvelyn. Not all debutantes come out being presented at court. Another route was taken just the other day at the Derby. She is now officially out.  Now, if there is nothing else, good day.”

Julian fumed while he watched from a distance as Tregilgas trot back up to his party. Alyce greeted Tregilgas with a tentative smile, but didn’t glance back at Julian. All to the better. His mood had considerably blackened.

Sebastian rode to his side. He peered in the direction of Julian's glance. “It’s for the best to leave things alone on his end, Julian. It is of no matter. It will only cause more questions that don’t need to be asked.”

“If it were that simple. He’s going to get her killed with the game he is playing.”

Sebastian glanced back at Julian and laughed. “If I didn’t know better, I would  believe you are jealous. Henrietta is correct. You have developed a fancy for the elusive Miss Rufford.”

“Don’t be an ass, Sebastian. I have an obligation I have long overlooked. That is all. Besides, I believe she can be helpful.”

“You may have a point. She could be helpful, but mark my word: if it’s more than help you seek, you are asking for trouble.” He looked over at Julian and grinned with an infuriating smile. “But then again, who am I to say?”

* * * *

Alyce spent hours looking the part to please Charles for her first official engagement into society. From his reaction, she had succeeded. He wanted her to shine and chose the gown she wore personally, a lovely ivory silk taffeta with a brocaded pattern of detached small flower sprays. The gown had a fitted bodice where the full skirt pleated at the waistline. Her braided hair looped and coiled in an intricate design to feature the understated diamond tiara Charles insisted she wear. She felt like a princess when she walked in beside him.

Alyce refused to be intimidated by the sight before her. Overwhelmed, however, was a different matter. She conjured a façade of confidence when she entered the ballroom. She looked upon him with a smile instead of facing a wall of unknown faces.

Mingling within the crowd, she quickly concluded Charles had been correct in his assessment that she would be among the most fashionable with her ensemble. A sea of ladies floated by Alyce in similar gowns and extremely elaborate headdresses. She felt no discomfort with the low neckline.

Charles smiled broadly at her when he asked her to dance for the first time. Charles, an excellent dancer, had practiced with her for the last week. Although Alyce had been given lessons, she had never attended a dance. Charles playfully covered her missteps until she found herself quite enjoying the dance.

She loved to see him in this mood. For the last few days he had been in a terrible temper, short and blunt. He was never short and blunt. Inpatient - never. Something bothered him, she had no doubt, but even Leopold wouldn’t let her know.

“Perhaps it is your own nerves,” Leopold offered when she had cornered him. She didn’t believe Leopold. She knew Charles well enough to know his moods.

Alyce wanted nothing more than to talk with her dear friend. Charles left her in a breathless shock with his proclamation that he wanted to marry her. The thought played upon her mind constantly. Her heart swelled with all Charles thought he was offering her: position, wealth, and a home, a real home. He loved her. In that she had no doubt, but then there was…Leopold.

Charles loved her, as a sister, but he was in love with Leopold. She had listened to Charles through the last three years. She helped him arrange it so Leopold could be with him always without drawing speculation when Charles couldn’t bear to be parted from his lover. She came up with the perfect solution: hire Leopold for his secretary.

Handsome and aloof, Leopold Delibes had been an artist and scholar at the university Charles had attended. He had come from an old French family who had lost their means and favor of the present king. His lack of fortune hadn’t waned their attraction toward each other. Alyce had seen them together when no one else was around. It was an affection to be envied. The two shared much with their common interest of learning, the arts, and the large gaping bridge which society enforced, denying them the acceptance of the love they shared.

She supposed it was silly, for with all she had learned about the ton marriages it was commonplace for the husbands to have their mistresses. Besides, she told herself, the duty of the wife was to produce heirs. She wanted children, lots of children. Charles promised her as many children as her heart desired. Perhaps, any doubts would have never been raised in her mind if she hadn’t shared that night with Lord Casvelyn.

For the life of her, she couldn’t dismiss the way she felt when she was in his arms: his lips upon hers, his hands sweeping over her body. She shook her head. She had to. She had to get him out of her mind, but the task seemed…impossible. She realized it the moment she saw him riding in the park, looking magnificently handsome on his large black horse.

Dancing gracefully across the dance floor, the music ended. She breathed out deeply, letting Charles lead her back to the side of Lady Breck. Lady Breck, with a look that could mortify the bravest soul, scowled at her after Charles bowed and left her side. Alyce had no doubt of where her son inherited his personality.

Alyce had no choice but to stay by Lady Breck’s side until a fearless soul would ask for a dance. Ask they did, but only a few skimmed through Lady Breck’s scrutiny. Alyce gladly accepted all, no matter if they seemed old enough to be her grandfather. She deemed anything better than enduring the watchful eye of Lady Breck.

Afterwards, she followed dutifully while Lady Breck introduced her to other ladies of society. Alyce occupied her time in the fringe of conversation that held no meaning to her. Why did society deem it inappropriate for Charles to stand by her? She wondered when she would see him once more. Her feet were sore; her back ached. Lady Breck allowed Alyce a brief reprieve from her overbearing demeanor, excusing herself to the powder room.

Alyce cared not, thankful indeed she could breathe again, at least for a moment. She turned to stand by Lissa, but instead she froze upon the sight before her. The last person she ever expected to see this night stood in front of her.

His wide mouth curved into a vague smile, which could easily turn hard, she suspected. He looked quite striking, handsome and elegant in his crisp black and white evening clothes. His dark eyes darkened intensely upon her. Before she had a chance to protest, his arm gripped her elbow firmly.

“Oh, no, my dear, I think not.” His utterance carried a hard edge which startled her. “I have long tried to gain an audience with you and have been refused one way or another. If you choose to make a scene, it will not bode well for you. You may have been hiding in the nest of the Arungdon, but I can guarantee you that legally you are still the ward of my grandfather and I…”

“Please, Lord Casvelyn, you do not have to resort to threats.” She turned her head to see if any other's attention lay upon them, but none seemed interested. Her gaze shifted back to him. “What reason could you have to talk to me? Charles did send his appreciation for you saving me. He assured me he had taken care of the situation and the magistrate...”

“Come, come, Miss Rufford…or should I say Hythe? I believe there is much we could talk of.”

She glanced back over her shoulder as he edged her along beside him. “Where are you taking me? It will not be proper…”

He cut her words short. “No one will see, I can assure you. I have arranged, how can I say this, a few minutes where we will not be disrupted. Then you can rush back to your lordship.”

She watched Lord Casvelyn nod to a man in front of him, a tall man with tawny hair and blue eyes. The man nodded back. Immediately, she felt herself being flung into a side door, closing tightly behind her. She could only imagine why Lord Casvelyn thought it necessary to have a guard at the door.

The room was small, quaint in appearance. There was no fire lit nor candle; only the moon provided light through the open windows. He gestured to her to sit upon a settee. She hesitated, but then complied. To her dismay, he sat beside her.

She found it difficult to catch a breath with him so near. He stared at her in a manner which made her remember all too well being in his arms, with his lips upon hers.

“Now will you please explain yourself so I can rejoin Charles?”

“Ah, yes, the love of your life. I have heard. Unfortunately, I tend to doubt your proclamation of feelings.”

She stared at him and he returned it. He sat close to her, too close. She scooted back but he moved, allowing her only a scant space between her and this man who made her skin shiver with just his touch. “How dare you,” she uttered under her breath. “You don’t know me. Charles and I love each other greatly…”

“Do you?” he asked in a low voice. “Are you in the habit of sharing kisses with one while in the deep throes of love for another? Come. Do not think I have forgotten having you in my arms. Kissing you, touching you...if not interrupted, perhaps it would have led to more than...”

She slapped him, hard, and attempted to rise. He thwarted her with his two strong hands, pulling her down to him.

“You are no gentleman!”

“Perhaps,” he answered her, but his voice softened. “Perhaps.”

His hands released her back to her seat. What did he do to her that made her act as if she had not a reasonable thought in her head?

"Tell me, Miss Hythe, what are you up to? What plan do you have? Don’t think your friend, Lord Tregilgas, can save you. If I so desire, I can have you escorted out under my care.”

“You make no sense, Lord Casvelyn. You come to me with demands that I return with you. Why should I? True, Colonel Tolworthy is my guardian, but in truth I barely know him. I have been on my own for a great deal of my life. Why should I be a burden to him now? It is only a few months more than I will not be.”

“Listen to me carefully, my dear. I had no knowledge that you still resided within England until three weeks ago. In all, I find the whole of the situation unacceptable. I’m trying to rectify this. Believe me. I believe you are in danger.”

“Then do not worry about me. Charles has seen to my safety. You may question me, but I trust Charles. He would never allow harm to befall me, as I would never allow harm to him.”

“Answer me this. Do you know, no matter if you hold your father is innocent, the world does not? No matter if your young marquess holds to you, you are walking into social damnation, fair or unfair. It will not be pleasant. How long do you think it will take for someone to figure out who you are? I would wager it will not be long. And then there is the matter of the threat upon your life.”

“You are mistaken that I am trying to run from my name. I am not. I have all my life, since my father’s death, faced his disgrace, although I was unaware of it until I was seventeen. No one thought it necessary to inform me how my father died. All I knew was that he was dead. Not until Charles told me. He has been my only true friend, my lord. I have only once visited my father’s grave and it was only through Charles I did so. Do you know what it is like to see your father’s grave ostracized from holy ground for they deem he committed suicide?”

“I know loss. I feel it every day. I dealt with my brother’s death, knowing that the fiend that killed him also lay in the ground. But with your words, I find myself questioning all about my brother’s death. And with those words, I question the wisdom in allowing you this Season.”

As he spoke, he astonished her with his movement, transforming her back to that night, that room, that embrace. He moved closer, so close it seemed she could no longer claim air between them. His arms encircled her and pulled her face upward toward his. His touch startled her. She looked at him in surprise. She saw his intent, yet made no resistance. Wanting to protest, her body rebelled against the thought.

A gasp escaped her lips as he lowered his head to hers. His lips moved against hers, firm yet yielding. She melted into the sensation his kiss inflicted, the thrilling excitement and warmth flowing through her body. Her mind told her to resist, though her body paid no attention to the warning. Instead, she responded to him. Gently he prodded her lips with his tongue to part. Slowly, as if giving her time to get used to the idea, he slipped his tongue inside.

Within her a voice called to her to be sensible. He was dallying with her, no more, no less, to prove his point. Yet, she ignored the voice, choosing instead to surrender to the want within her and parted her lips fully to admit him. An intimacy flowed within her, so wonderful, awakening parts of her body she didn’t know were alive.

His arms tightened around her as pleasure cascaded throughout her body. His kiss lingered. He didn’t stop with one. He kissed her again and again, astonishing her and evoking shivers that flowed down her body. A series of pleasurable sensations left her crying for more. He kissed her again, more aggressive, more demanding. She had long lost any rational thought, for he had her mesmerized.

She felt his hand move up and down her back. Her skin felt hot with his touch. His hand moved upward until it cupped her nape, caressing her. She could not believe what his meandering touch did to her. His lips descended down her chin to her neck. A cry escaped her when his lips found a sensitive spot, which sent vibrations cascading throughout her: sensations she had never known, yet desired. She had never been held in this way by anyone. Never had she felt so alive.

The next moment he held her head in his hands as if she was his captive. He ravished her mouth. Shock tensed through her. She could feel the need within him for her to submit. Then, as if reason took hold, he drew back. His eyes never left her widened eyes. He reached over and in a slow, gentle motion caressed her face.

“Tell me now of this undying love you have for another,” he said, demanding an answer from her.

Wordless, she sat still, unable to move. His fingers played with her curls while she tried to compose herself. She grasped hold of his hand to stop his play.

“Don’t,” she said finding her voice. “Have you not humiliated me enough? Do you hate me so much that you seek revenge in this manner? How can you be so cruel?”

To her dismay, tears welled. He immediately cupped her cheek, wiping away an escaped tear.

“I seek no revenge upon you, Alyce. I wanted only for you to be honest with me. Tell me that you do not feel what is between us. I do apologize. For all is my fault. I succumbed to my impulse. For that I apologize, but that is all.”

Her eyes dried and her heart softened. A memory stirred within her, a familiarity...a time long ago. “Why do I feel as I know you, Lord…”

“Perhaps my brother. He was my twin. And my name is Julian, Alyce. Call me Julian. I need your help. In this know: someone doesn’t want you reappearing. You will be in danger exposing yourself. You already are.”

“I want only to clear my father’s name, Lord…,” she stuttered. She couldn’t find it within her to call him Julian. Her face grimaced with the worry she held within her, for he had a control of her she couldn’t explain. She should hate him. Beside all his words to the contrary, he was her sworn enemy.

When Charles had shown her the paper with the announcement of her father’s death, his words, the man beside her now, had declared within the article her father a coward for his actions and all his house. The venom of his words carried through the paper as if she had stood before him. It was the first time she comprehended the depth of hatred toward her father. She had lived with that knowledge for the last three years.

Charles teased her dreadfully about her behavior at the inn, but in the same breath declared Lord Casvelyn a scoundrel for his actions, forgetting that the man had saved her life. She wondered if Lord Casvelyn had known who she was, would he have done the same? And she had allowed him once more to put her off guard. He was without a doubt a scoundrel, but she was a ninny for allowing his behavior. Oh, what he must think of her. Unworldly, unsophisticated, easily manipulated. Quite simply a simpleton!

She shook her head, recoiling back from him. She needed to put space between herself and this man.

“I don’t know if our purposes are the same. I know only that my father was no traitor, Lord Casvelyn. You come to me like this…It is not acceptable. I will heed your warning.”

His mocking eyes watched her. She wished he wouldn’t look at her in that manner, as if she had just done something scandalous. His gaze never left her. She pressed her hands against his chest when he moved toward her again. “Pray come near me again and I will scream.”

“And it will not help your cause. Simply put, my lady, I do not have to reason with you.”

“What could you want from me, Lord Casvelyn? For the life of me, I don’t understand your actions this day. Why have you come to disrupt my life more than it already is?”

“I told you,” he said bluntly, sitting back. “I need your help.”

“I have nothing of value until I turn one and twenty. What do you want from me?”

His eyes glanced over her with a small, smug smile emerging. “Have you not gathered what I desire from you, Alyce?”

Her heart fluttered. She had told him more with her actions than he would ever believe with her words. Her mind rapidly tried to take control of her emotions. Charles was right. Lord Casvelyn had been dallying with her, which implied he thought her fast. The insinuation bothered her more than she cared to admit. Her reputation was already tarnished beyond hope by being her father’s daughter. She reprimanded herself greatly.

"And this you want is in my best interest, my lord?”

“Better than what His Grace plans. You do not think that the duke will ever allow his son to marry you? I don’t know why he is dangling this hope of a Season in front of you with hopes of marrying his son, but it will only lead to a scandal. Of that I can assure you. Which makes me wonder what he is trying to accomplish.”

Suddenly, her instincts turned to protecting Charles. What did Lord Casvelyn know? “I do not need to be told what Lord Tregilgas feels about me, but, in all, I know he loves his son. As do I. Make no mistake about how I feel about Charles. I will never do anything to harm him.”

She backed away from the man in front of her. She lowered her gaze, patting down her skirt. “It was unforgivable of me to allow you to touch me in that manner, but do not mistake my weakness as a sign I don’t care for Charles.”

She looked up to find him studying her.

“So, you are not going into this blind. You know of what is planned for you. And it does not bother you?”

“It is none of your concern, but this I will tell you. I have no one in my life, Lord Casvelyn, except Charles. You ask if I know what I face. In that, I’m not sure, except it is necessary. For what reason is none of your concern. And it is mine to own. Do you think it could be worse than what I have faced since I lost my father?”

She once more attempted to rise. He stood, grabbing hold of her arm. “And you are mistaken that I wish you harm. Wait but a moment. Listen to me. Your words that stated that you wanted to prove your father’s innocence. Who have you told?”

She pushed against his grip, uttering ardently, “Three years ago, to anyone who would listen, but to no avail. I tried when I searched for Fennimore’s sister the last time I came to London. No one pays attention to the words of a daughter of a branded traitor.”

“I did,” Julian said. “And do you not think if your words hold true that I would not do anything in my power to find the one that did kill my brother? Do you not think I do not know that the medallion would not have been given to you if Roland didn’t want you protected? I want the truth, Alyce. Mark my word, I will not rest until I uncover it, no matter what it is.”

She stopped her resistance and stared upon him. The intensity of his words ebbed into her soul. Her eyes met his. She wanted so desperately to believe him. She whispered, “You want something from me.”

Gone was the mocking smile, the gleam in his eyes. He said simply, “I want you to help me uncover the truth.”

Chapter Seven

Stronworth stood out among the homes of even the richest aristocrats of London. An impressive building, no doubt due to the bold architecture style struck over a hundred years before. The façade was large and dramatic with entablature lying across the columns lining the entry. Heavily embellished with sculptured stone moldings, the whole of the large brick structure overpowered one’s senses. Numerous honorable gentlemen walked up the angular stone steps to the entrance of this great mansion, including the king himself. Julian’s arrival, therefore, did not raise much notice.

Irritation ran through Julian with each step he took. He was being played like a pawn in chess and he knew it. He had run a fool’s errand when he tried to call upon Alyce, waiting over half an hour before being informed that the lady had already left for the day. His temper simmered. Outmaneuvered badly. His mood blackened, evident when he met up with Sebastian at their appointed place minutes later.

“The girl?” Sebastian questioned.

“She is visiting with His Grace, Lord Harold Tregilgas with the young marquess. The message was delivered clearly that if it was a matter of utmost urgency His Grace would no doubt welcome my appearance.”

“I take it we are heading to His Grace’s.”

Gaining entrance, Julian exchanged looks with Sebastian. Without question, they had been expected. The duke would be a formidable opponent, although Julian came prepared. Sebastian exchanged looks with Julian while they entered into the opulent mansion.

General Treadwell had become a valuable asset, giving to Julian helpful insight into the prior investigation. Julian needed only to implement the plan that the three had strategized about during the last week. Earlier this morning he paid a visit to Mr. Edwin Lavery, his solicitor, ensuring all his well-laid plans were in place. Receiving the information needed, Julian now walked straight toward his intention.

Escorted down a long foyer, Julian found himself walking through two large French doors to the veranda, opening to a large garden. The garden bloomed wildly with an assortment of colorful flowers. The air carried a lush scent which lingered pleasantly with the warm spring day. Within the calm of the splendor of the spring day, a voice greeted him.

"Lord Julian Casvelyn. Mr. Sebastian Byrne. I am honored you have visited this day. I hope you excuse my brazenness in changing your venue of this meeting you have desired. I do so hate wasting time with Miss Rufford within the grounds. I hoped you wouldn’t mind instead of meeting at Charles’s quaint townhouse. Sit, please. I will send for refreshments.”

The Duke of Arungdon was a large, robust man who would command attention anywhere he went.  His Grace realized well his intimidating persona and used it fully to his advantage. He was a man quite use to getting his way. Julian attended several of His Grace's speeches in Parliament, but he had never opposed the man.

“I’m certain the two will be back momentarily. My niece and her husband took a walk with the two. Charles delighted Miss Rufford with a small dog this morning. I have to admit her enthusiasm for the small thing seemed to be contagious. I found myself quite enjoying her happiness in the gift. She does not seem to have many opportunities for such occasions. A shame.”

The duke’s implication was not lost upon Julian. Julian sat back in his chair, not relenting in his own quest.

“Granted, Your Grace, I had not expected such a reception. Here I am finding quite the family picture. Where I thought I had come to rescue you from an unpleasant fate, you seem content with the situation. I have to admit my surprise, especially after the last exchange you had with my grandfather. I would have thought you would want her immediately off your hands,” Julian said in a solemn voice, exchanging looks with Sebastian. “You must realize that I’m here on the behalf of my grandfather. He wants his rights exercised as her guardian. I believe all is plainly…” Julian reached in his waistcoat pocket for an envelope.

Lord Tregilgas motioned for Julian to give pause. “Put all away, Lord Casvelyn. I do not believe Miss Rufford’s guardianship is in question. I myself had a hand in the placement. My understanding is she is visiting with my niece. They have been friends for a quite a few years. What fault can be found with her visiting her friend? There is nothing inappropriate. I assure you she has been properly chaperoned, unlike the situation she came to us with.”

Julian withheld a smile. He could not argue the two who were in charge of Miss Rufford upon their first meeting were less than satisfactory. In fact, he questioned his grandfather’s judgment on the matter, but that fact did little to diminish his purpose.

“Your lordship, it must be evident there is more going on here. In all, my grandfather, Colonel Tolworthy, feels it is in Alyce’s best interest to withdraw back to Evermonde. Not that I want to bore you with the legitimacy of the situation, but I have to intervene. You have to be aware of the circumstance - what you will be exposing Miss Rufford to by permitting this introduction into society. Not to mention the backhanded way she was presented.”

Lord Harold Tregilgas shook his head and laughed. “Should I ask you how your grandfather received guardianship? I know well Sir Arthur Hythe and his elder son, James. It seems a strange situation that her own family has no knowledge of where she is at.”

“If you are insinuating that I’m here to keep the knowledge of his guardianship of Miss Rufford a secret, you will be disappointed. Even given my brother’s atrocious murder, Grandfather honored my brother’s request to care for the girl. May I point out that her grandfather disinherited her upon her father’s death? None of this information will give the ton one moment of pause in their treatment of her. You and I both know she will be shunned the moment her last name is uttered.”

“Time dulls the memory. My son feels she can be introduced in a manner the two can survive. What can I say? He is my only child. The young believe no harm can reflect on them. And he is deeply infatuated with Miss Rufford and has been for years. So much so that he has had made no attempt to court another. I have spoken to him of my own concerns. In honesty, I have tried to wedge between the two. Yet, here I am entertaining the lovely lady. My sister assures me Miss Rufford is the sweetest of things. As for the introducing Miss Rufford to society, my niece’s mother-in-law has kindly offered to launch her.”

Julian stared intensely at the man in front of him. He knew when he was being manipulated. The man had an agenda other than making his son happy. Of that Julian was certain, but as to that purpose he couldn’t put a finger upon it. Only he was certain that the duke had no intention of having Miss Rufford as a daughter-in-law.

“You realize, Your Grace, that is highly inappropriate. Lord Casvelyn is well within his authority,” Sebastian interceded, but suddenly Julian’s attention turned.

Coming down the path, laughter and chatter filled the air before he saw the small group emerge. Relaxed and cheerful, she walked up the garden path with her arm entwined with the younger Tregilgas. In front of her feet a young pup ran in circles.

Bending down, she grasped hold of the pup, which in turn licked her face. Her face erupted in the most gorgeous of smiles, with a mass of dark curls falling to frame her oval face under a large straw hat. Beautiful, simply beautiful, he thought.

Then she looked up. Her face froze upon the sight in front of her. Turning to run, young Tregilgas laid hold of her arm and shook his head. With the utmost reluctance she walked towards the table.

“Ah, I see the young lady has already made your acquaintance, Lord Casvelyn. So I don’t have to worry with introductions,” the duke said with amusement within his voice.

Alyce’s good mood quickly dissipated upon the sight of Lord Casvelyn. She had enjoyed the most glorious day, strolling in the park and riding in an open carriage. They arrived at his father’s only to discover Charles surprised her with the greatest of gifts, a small pug. She quickly named her Lily, for the pup ran and nipped the first flower she had seen, a lovely white lily that had only just bloomed.

Now, the whole of the thrill of her gift was gone, replaced with an anxiousness she couldn’t contain. Never in her wildest dreams did she believe she would see that man again. Not after the talk she held with Charles long into the previous night. He had agreed it best never to meet up with Lord Casvelyn: it was too risky.

She looked up at Charles, who seemed as shocked as she to discover their unwelcome guest, but he would not let her run from him. If only Charles would let her run into the back entrance. Why, she doubted that man could ever find her in that house!

“No more running, remember. Is that not what we decided? We would face our fears, our past, together,” he whispered.

Charles’s words eased her anxiety to a certain extent, but the man in front of her was dangerous. Oh, perhaps not in the sense of the men that wanted her dead. It was his eyes, his look, his touch…. He was the lieutenant’s brother, the colonel’s grandson. He was going to ruin everything! Why did he insist upon interfering in her life?

Lord Casvelyn stood as they approached. Charles introduced the small group to the man whom Alyce refused to look at. She didn’t even listen to the introduction of the other with him. Her hand rested on Charles’s arm, turning her body away from his gaze she could feel upon her.

“Miss Rufford, Lord Casvelyn has come this day to withdraw you back from London. He believes you will be better cared for in the confines of his grandfather’s home at Evermonde. I told him you had your heart set on a London Season, which has been denied you until now. Shame really, with all prepared,” the elder Tregilgas said from his seat.

Alyce glanced quickly up at Charles helplessly. “No,” she whispered. “I have no desire to go to Evermonde.”

Charles nodded to her, agreeing with her contention. “Now see here, Lord Casvelyn. What harm could be done with Alyce staying with Lissa?”

“A great deal, I’m afraid. I don’t want to seem ill-mannered, but I don’t believe it is your concern.”

“I beg to differ with you, Lord Casvelyn,” Charles said stiffly. “I care deeply for Miss Rufford. I have well seen to her welfare, better than, I dare say, her guardian has over the last few years. I realize that all will be simpler after she turns one and twenty. We have waited for a long while and faced all. I will not allow this from one that wasn’t even aware of her existence three weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but she is still my grandfather’s ward. I’m here on behalf of my grandfather. Obviously his correspondence has been ignored. I’m certain if it’s her expense of the last couple of weeks, please forward the bills. I will see to them. As for…”

“It is you that does not understand,” Charles interrupted. In all the years Alyce had known Charles she had never seen him lose his temper, but his face tightened and the veins in his neck protruded. Color flooded his face. “Alyce will not be leaving my protection. After the episodes of the last few weeks, in which you are well aware of, I fear for her safety. Before you state I have no right to do so, you should be aware that I have asked Miss Rufford for her hand in marriage. So you see I have every right…”

Distressed, Alyce watched while Lord Casvelyn rounded the table, facing Charles. He was only a tad taller, but much more muscular. Lord Casvelyn met Charles’s anger with his own. His eyebrow rose, as if in a challenge to the man before him. Alyce paid no mind to Charles’s father, who sat with his mouth open in disbelief of the words his son uttered. Then from behind the men, the other man stepped between them.

“Lord Charles, it may well be you established your relationship with the lady, but to abide by the law…”

“Stop it,” Alyce cried, pushing back upon Julian. “Stop it. Do I not have a say? For the life of me, I do not understand your stance. Or why you are even here. I would have thought Colonel Tolworthy relieved.”

“Then you would be sadly mistaken.”

Silence ensued until the puppy began to whine. Alyce began to bend down to pick her puppy up, only to have her progress halted. A hand reached for her arm, pulling her upward.

Alyce stared into Lord Julian’s eyes. She looked over at Charles, who seemed to be in wait for the next words. “I need to see to my dog.”

“Perhaps someone else could see to your dog for a moment. I need to hold a word with you.”

Alyce glanced anxiously at Charles. His arm rounded her in a protective manner, but remained silent. It was Lord Julian’s friend whom diffused the situation.

“There needs to be a clarification of the situation, which seems to have gotten quite out of hand.” Sebastian stood, exhibiting all the authority that his position held. “I’m certain your Grace will want to give his full cooperation. There is much more here than custody of a ward.”

* * * *

Alyce fumed. She sat in silence on the veranda across from Lissa, who seemed quite disturbed with the whole of the situation. Words sat upon Lissa's lips unable to be spoken, for her husband sat beside her, stone-faced. The Honorable Mr. Thomas Breck sat with the ladies, banned from the conference being held within the duke's study.

Alyce glanced over at Lissa. The poor thing fidgeted under the glare of her husband, who seemed quite put out he wasn't invited to participate in the discussion. Under no illusions about the man across from her, Alyce understood who would bare the blunt of the slight. A surge of pity welled in Alyce. To live under such scrutiny!

Alyce's outrage only magnified with her own exclusion. Was it not about her life...her well-being? To know that her destiny once more set to be decided without a word from her gnawed upon her soul. She had expected such from Lord Casvelyn and His Grace, but Charles! Ordered...ordered to sit and wait upon their decision!

Indignation swelled. To have to endure such humiliation! To have been simply dismissed with no more thought than to leave her with that man...Breck. God forgive her! She could take no more.

"Lissa, would you care for a stroll?" Alyce rose. "I find I can't hold onto Lily."

"Sit back down, Miss Rufford," Breck motioned. "His Grace asked for you to wait here."

"I find myself in need to take a walk. Surely no one could object to my walking within the gardens. Lissa...?"

The words no more escaped her lips than she regretted them. Protest lay within her, but one look at Lissa's pleading eyes and Alyce paused. She drew in a deep breath. Then suddenly, Lily spurted off down the steps and into the garden.

"Lily!" Alyce called to no avail. The pup made no effort to slow her progress. Alyce followed, ignoring the voices behind her.

"Miss Rufford! For heaven's sake, let the footman find the pooch!"

Alyce slowed only when she caught sight of her pet. Lily sat in the middle of the path, staring at her mistress. Moving closer, the puppy rambled off again. Oh, heavens! The little one was playing a game with her. She wasn't in the mood, but ran after the playful puppy.

Exasperated, she called, "Lily!"

Her hurried steps slowed to a stop. Lily came into view in the far corner of the garden, frozen to her spot. Alyce scooped her up in her arms. Before a word of reprimand could come forth, a chill encompassed Alyce. Turning abruptly, Alyce held tightly to her puppy. All was calm. No movement. No sounds.

Suddenly above her, clouds accumulated, diffusing the once bright sunlight to a gray mist. Around her, a fog appeared with a thickening shadow. An amorphous shape hovered near her person and materialized, like a cloud of luminous gas. Startled, Alyce tightened her hold on Lily.

"Mary! Mary Alyce!"

Alyce's head jerked toward the voice. Half believing, half doubting, she watched as a shadow passed in front of her, urging her onward. She had no desire to move, for fear grasped hold of her, but a form emerged out of the haze standing by the iron wrought gate.

She stared in the fog while the form drifted out of the shadows. Against the darkness, a profile was sharply outlined. Then she saw him: a soldier. He turned toward her in an eerie silence. A flicker of movement indicated he wanted something from her. The features writhed soundlessly; the mouth opened in silent words. Yet within her she understood; she heard.

"Mary, come. Please. Follow me."

No fear encompassed her, only uncertainty of the intent. The shadowy shape or whatever it was began to move away.  Alyce hesitated only a moment. Releasing Lily back into the garden, she opened the gate and followed.

The floating figure moved with purpose, never bothering to pause to ensure her path. Through the fog, she advanced through the affluent neighborhood of large grand houses which sat back off the stoned street. With each step, something within her stirred.

She had been here before. Then her eye caught sight of a red brick home encompassed by a black wrought iron fence. Long forgetting following the apparition, she walked in a semblance of a trance, following footsteps once traveled. She gripped hold of the open gate. Instantly, the gate buckled back its hinges.

She paused. The house sat in darkness. Abandoned. On close inspection, she saw where rocks had been thrown through windows. Shutters hung to the side of the window frames; vines grew without restriction along the side of the house. She walked up the steps to the door. Her fear forgotten, she entered. She was home.

Sadness swept through her as she glanced around the shadow-darkened house. The once elegant residence lay in shambles. Pictures had been ripped off the walls; cobwebs littered the high ceilings; railings from the stairs were broken. Alyce covered her mouth with her hand in disbelief. Her home looked ransacked. How could it have been allowed? Her heart broke. How...?

The home she shared with her father...her beloved father. She ambled down the corridor, walking in and out of the rooms. Water welled within her eyes, for a pain stabbed at her. She inched forward, focusing down the foyer to a room closed by two large French doors. Her father’s study. It was the last place she had seen him alive.

Her hands trembled, grasping hold of the handle. Easing back gently, she pulled the door open. She glanced inward. She gasped when suddenly the chill returned. No longer did she stand in darkness. Light, brilliant light, greeted her.

Spread in front of her was a large mahogany desk, her father's. Then the chair turned. She froze. Her father...before her sat her father. Over the years, his face had faded in her memory. Yet here he sat in front of her. All her memories flashed before her. She had forgotten how much she missed him.

She blinked, unbelieving the sight. Dreaming. She had to be dreaming. Oh...but it felt so real.

"Mary. Mary, please my dear, can you not take your book out to the garden? I'm expecting company."

Alyce turned. There in the corner of the study. So small, so young and innocent. She was there looking up at her father.

"Please, Father. I won't say a word. I will be silent as a mouse. I'm only reading. It is my only time with you. Don't send me away. Please, Father."

Hesitant, the worried lines etched under his eyes softened. He said nothing, but returned to his papers. Then a knock came upon the door. Alyce's heart pounded. She remembered the day. Oh, God! She remembered the day! The last day!

Within moments all became chaotic. Men from her past flew in and out the door. She recognized all. Her father. Fennimore. Lieutenant Casvelyn... somehow different than she had recalled. Something was wrong. Lieutenant Casvelyn shouted at her father...enraged. Her father yelling at her to leave the room. She had to leave. Alyce watched her younger self run from the room, out the door, straight into a large gentleman. Looking up, she stared into his face, his distorted face, twisted in the most disturbing manner. She didn't know him. Did she?

"Alyce! Alyce!"

In the far recess of her mind, she heard a voice call to her, calling her back. She didn't want to go back. Her father was here. Her father.

She felt a light pat on her cheek. Someone gently lifted her into their arms. "Alyce. Alyce."

Her eyes blinked. Light filtered through. A face emerged from the fog surrounding her. A handsome face. His dark eyes gazed intensely upon her.  "Lieutenant...lieutenant," she murmured.

"No, Alyce. It's Julian."

She lifted her head, squinting. His eyes met hers. For a moment she thought it was the lieutenant, but he wasn’t in his uniform. She shook her head. It was Lord Julian. Of course it was, but he looked so…so like his brother. Her breathing eased. She grasped tight his hand. She whispered, "My home. This was my home."

"I know," he answered her. "I know, Alyce. You shouldn't have come back. Not like it is."

Her eyes focused while she pulled herself up. Her father's study. Gone were any remnants of her beloved father. No desk. Broken chairs. A dark, dark room. The whole of her body shuddered. So many memories flooded back to her, overwhelming her to the point she had to remind herself to breathe. It had been so long since she had allowed herself to remember...

She looked back at Julian. Tears welled. He pulled her tight into an embrace. She wept.

In all his life, Julian had never panicked...never until the moment Lord Tregilgas's niece bounded into His Grace's study...never until he raced out through the garden to an open gate and no Alyce. Fear swept through him of an abduction, until the footman said she had left on her own accord. Leaving the puppy, she walked out.

He had known. Somehow in that instant he had known where she headed. Young Tregilgas called for a search party. Julian hadn't waited. In almost a run, he dashed toward the house. He knew the way well. Sebastian followed.

The house. George Hythe's residence. Once a magnificent mansion: torn and destroyed when it became known it housed England's most notorious traitor. The house where his brother was murdered. The house where George Hythe was thought to have taken his own life.

Julian found her unconscious on the floor of the study, so quiet and vulnerable. Julian rushed to Alyce's side. Without a word, Sebastian backtracked to tell the others. He soothed her, comforted her in a manner no one else could understand.

For a moment Alyce rambled and made no sense. He made no attempt to stop her.

"They were here. All of them. Father. Lieutenant Casvelyn. Fennimore," she uttered, incoherent. " The last time I saw him. I tried to get to him. I couldn't. He yelled at me to leave."

"It was only a dream, Alyce. A remembrance."

He pulled her tighter against his chest. He needed to calm her. It was only natural that coming here would jostle her memory, take her back in time. Back in time to that day...but of course.

"Are you certain it was the last day, Alyce?"

She lowered her gaze. Unconsciously, she nodded. "It is all coming back so clearly. My cousins had come for a visit, Tobias and Priscilla. I was glad they came. I didn’t often have playmates. I was nervous though, I remember. I was to go back with them to Willow Haven. I didn't want to leave Father."

"Why didn't you? Wouldn't you want to visit?"

"I wanted to at one time. I liked Willow Haven when Father first brought me there, but when he left me..." She paused. "It wasn't the same. I wasn't welcome. I overheard my grandfather. He thought Father married beneath him. My mother was a colonist from Charleston. When Father returned, he was beyond furious over my treatment. We left that same day."

"Why were you going back then?"

Julian watched her face change expression, frowning as if remembering something she’d rather forget. "I think my grandmother wanted to see me. Was she sick? I can't remember. I didn't go. Uncle James and Father got into a huge fight in the morning. I remember it now so clearly. I had already dressed to travel. My trunk sat in the foyer. We sat waiting outside the study. Then voices erupted... " She stopped and looked around the room, as if a ghost from the past walked within. "Father yelled at Uncle James. Something about papers he shouldn't have had, maybe. All I remember is Uncle James rushing out, saying Father was going to regret his decision." She rubbed her face, pressing against her temple. "Uncle James didn't even say goodbye. He even rushed by without calling for Tobias and Priscilla. Fennimore had to bring them out to the carriage."

"He had come before?"

She nodded. "Uncle James and Uncle Lionel both, and often. Sometimes they brought Tobias. It was my grandfather that was angry with my father."

"Was that when your father decided to send you to Colonel Tolworthy?"

She shook her head. "No, it was after that frightful scene. After supper Father was working on papers; I sat there.” She pointed back to the corner. “I would draw or read. I liked just being in the same room. It wasn’t as lonely, I suppose. Then…that awful man appeared.”

Alyce turned and stared at the door. "I had forgotten about him until now. A short, portly gentleman, a gentleman by appearance only for he had a foul mouth and manners. His face…his face distorted, twisted in the most disturbing manner. His eyes bulged out. His wig fell to the side down his head, almost covering his eyes while he screamed and belittled my father."

"His name. Do you remember his name, Alyce?" Julian pressed.

She turned to face Julian. "No. Father didn't want me in the room. He sent me out. Told me to go to my room. The lieutenant hadn't stayed for supper. He always seemed to eat supper at the table, but he returned."

Abruptly, she stopped. "I have to get up. I have to leave."

Julian stood and helped Alyce to her feet. She straightened her skirt, turning away from him. He reached for her, refusing to let her leave. "There is more, Alyce. Do not leave it as you have. If you want to clear your father, all has to be told. It was known that everything was collapsing around your father. Was Roland upset with him also?"

"No, of course not," she answered. Breaking from his gaze, she pushed back hair from her face.

She was lying; he was certain of it. "I saw Roland that afternoon, Alyce. He was furious with your father."

Startled, she glanced up at him. "If you already know the answer, why do you ask?"

"Because I want to know what happened when he saw your father again. I know he came back to confront your father with concerns he had. I know that much. It was one of the reasons I did not question what I had been told about my brother's murder. Perhaps it is my own guilt also.

"Come, Alyce. Something had to have happened. Roland gave you the medallion for a reason. It is an act that tells me he didn't trust your family. An act to appease your father."

Trepidation riddled her face. She reached up to her face with trembling hands. "Yes," she said in a low voice. "Lieutenant Casvelyn was angry. I had never seen him so or my father, but it wasn't until that man appeared...Looking back, I believe my father became afraid for me."

"Why?"

"That man pushed me aside getting into the study. Father followed me out into the foyer commanding me to go to my room and not come out. Behind him that man ranted." She bent her head down as she raked her brain. "He screamed at my father.

‘I…I…I won’t have my name tarnished. You…you…you will not go to my father! Do…do…do you understand? You…you are in this deeper than I.’ The man stuttered, he was so angry. I thought his face would explode. It turned such a brilliant red.

“My father returned his threat. He told that man he was mistaken. He had done nothing wrong. Only investigated the losses. He was the culprit and all would soon know.”

Suddenly, she reached for Julian. "Oh, it was him. That man." Her eyes searched his. "I remember."

"It is good, Alyce. It is good. Did you see him harm your father?"

"No, no." She walked briskly out into the corridor and pointed to the stairs. "I clung to the railings while I heard dreadful sounds, furniture being knocked over, banging against the wall. I stood frozen on the staircase for an eternity. Then the lieutenant threw the man out, literally. The lieutenant stood over him, his uniform torn, ripped, but none the worse - unlike the other. The man's lip bled and his nose, too.

"Father came out and told the man to get up. Called him a sniveling coward," she took a deep breath in. "He told him he had until the morning to tell his father and family. Then my father said he was going to deliver the report personally. Oh, Julian, it was that man. It had to have been."

"What of Fennimore?"

"He was there. I think. He had to have been. I think Father told Fennimore to see the disheveled man out."

"But no name?"

"No, but I would recognize him." She thought back to the vision, dream or whatever one would call what she had witnessed. The face. The distorted face. Alyce said with conviction, "Of that I am certain."

Chapter Eight

Julian stood over Alyce while she sat on the steps of the winding staircase. He saw it in her eyes. Memories long forgotten had returned. How cruel for her to walk back into the shell of the last place she had felt safe and loved! Her expression undid him, though she didn’t seem distressed. Instead, she sat forlorn.

“May I sit?” he asked. He didn’t wait for an answer, but slipped down beside her. She didn’t look at him.

“Do you think anything I recalled could help clear my father?”

“I believe so.”

“Charles is helping me. He has been looking into my father’s death also, you understand.”

“Yes. I believe in talking with him earlier, he could be extremely helpful, especially with his connections down at Foreign Office.”

A silence ensued. He eased over. She made no protest when his arm rounded her, pulling him into his shoulder. She lay quietly for a time. He found he had no desire to move. He wanted this: to hold her in his arms and soothe her concerns with his embrace. He couldn’t remember a time having a woman in his arms created this unfamiliar feeling within him. She felt good in his arms, as if she belonged there, warm and soft.

She rose off his chest. “Is this my house, Lord Julian? Is it still mine?”

He shook his head. “No. Grandfather sold it a few years ago." He hesitated. "Although I don't believe anyone has attempted to live here."

"This, this…,” she paused and blinked back tears welling in her eyes. “This was my home…how could he?” Her voice wavered and faded into the stillness of the room.

"Perhaps he didn't want to put you through the heartache you are now experiencing. It is best at times to let the past go to create your future, Alyce. Give us time. We will piece together this mystery.”

"You believe me now that my father did not murder your brother.”

“I believe that there is sufficient evidence to suggest an alternate assailant. I will find out who killed my brother, Alyce; in that, rest assured.”

She laid her head back against his chest. His arm tightened around her. He felt her hands clutch tightly to his waistcoat collar. “And my father?”

The question echoed within the hollow space.

“It is my intention to find the truth.”

She leaned up and turned from him. He drew her back into his arms. Her hands gripped his arm. The warmth of her body against his aroused him. He waited for common sense to take hold. He frowned. He should not be holding her in this manner, nor should he find comfort in such.

His grandfather was her guardian. A gentleman would be obligated to see to her well-being. All well and good; except, in her presence he became a different man - a potentially dangerous situation since he could not pretend anymore that she meant nothing to him. The question became what could he offer her.

“I miss him,” her voice brought him back to a semblance of reality. “I miss him terribly. Here, though, it is as if I can feel him. It has been so long.”

“I know what it is like to feel as though there is an empty void within you. It may well be nothing compared to what you have endured, but I lost both my parents at an early age. Roland and I…we were as one. It was difficult for me when he decided to join His Majesty’s Service. It was inevitable. He wanted to become his own person, but even before his death I held a void within me. He was the better part of me. He made me a better person.”

A moment of silence ensued before she spoke. “I was jealous of Lieutenant Casvelyn.”

“Jealous?”

“Quite,” she answered. “You have to understand. My father was my world. Lieutenant Casvelyn interrupted my world. All these years you have thought my father murdered your brother. If only you had seen them together. Even at my young age, I realized my father looked upon the lieutenant as the son he never had, that I could never be. I’m certain that Lieutenant Casvelyn reciprocated the sentiment. I’m surprised that he hadn’t conveyed his view to you.”

For an instant, Julian hesitated and then answered her in a solemn voice. “Perhaps it is the reason I was so bitter. I met your father on a few occasions.”

She became silent once more, carefully thinking over her next words. Then her head turned up to him.

“The lieutenant…he was special to me also. I don’t know if he told you any of what occurred over in the colonies. It was when the Patriots had control of Charles Town before the siege. I was at my father's plantation, White Oak, not far from Charles Town. I don’t remember much of my time within Charles Town, but I remember the raid. Terror struck me. I had heard whispers of the atrocious things that happened on raids. I remember my father said that it didn’t matter if one was a Loyalist or Patriot; if one had a grudge against another it was used then to justify murder.

“I heard the bell and knew what it meant. Father had gone into Charles Town, leaving me in the care of the housekeeper and Fanny, my nanny. When the bell rang, she deserted me. I was alone in the house. The bell rang and rang. I was ten and I was alone. I huddled into a corner scared...so, so scared...until Lieutenant Casvelyn came in and swept me up in his arms.”

Alyce paused a moment. Julian was certain that a flood of memories had resurged within her, making her recall all so vividly. He said not a word, but listened with great interest. He nodded for her to continue.

“He carried me outside behind the house and hid me along the wall. He gave me a pistol and told me to use it if necessary, but it wasn’t needed. Father rode up with a group of Loyalists. The fight was over quickly. We left immediately when we got back into Charles Town.

“I was twelve the last time I saw Lieutenant Casvelyn, but he seemed so invincible. So handsome and brave. When he left me at your grandfather’s, I had no fear. He promised to return. I didn’t know he had died, not until three years ago. I knew nothing. I used to dream he would return for me. He was my hero. Heroes aren’t supposed to die.”

Her words stilled the room. He took her face in his hand and searched her expression. She had been in love with the lieutenant. Of course, she had been! A child with a child’s perspective of the handsome soldier, articulating her father’s respect. Quickly the thought swept through him of her draw to him.

Julian had no time to contemplate his reaction. Footsteps echoed in the foyer. He released her immediately and stood. He took her hand, but she promptly released it when her friend walked into the foyer.

“Alyce! Thank God! What possessed you to leave the garden? You should never have attempted to come here on your own..." Tregilgas stopped, realizing that Julian stood in close proximity. Collecting himself, he held out his hand to Alyce. "Come. I have a carriage. Are you ready to depart?"

“Yes, Charles, please.”

Julian stepped back. She gave no parting remark. He watched with envy as the two exited. He hadn’t a clue to her obvious affection for Lord Tregilgas. Seeing the two together, there would be no doubt that each held the other dear. Then how could she respond to him in the manner she did when he kissed her?

Questions and more questions arose within him, giving way to the jealousy and envy emerging within him. For once, he faced a man who rivaled his heritage, exceeding his own if he was honest. Moreover, he seemed quite intelligent and a decent sort. Worse still - Julian frowned deeply with the acknowledgement-  he was jealous of a dead man…his brother.

* * * *

The day after Alyce’s excursion, she took to her bed with a headache. She had no desire to see anyone. Charles sent flowers, a glorious bouquet of roses: red, pink, and white. She loved flowers. The card expressed his concern for her. God bless Charles. He worried about her, but she found she couldn’t alleviate his concerns. Not yet; she needed a day to think. Her emotions drained from her body.

Confused thoughts rambled in her mind. She hadn’t admitted the effect yesterday had upon her. Melancholy gripped her, as though she had lost her father again. She found herself staring out the window for much of the morning until she could take no more.

It was a fair, brisk day. She grabbed her shawl. She needed fresh air and a walk. She had got no further than the gate before a voice called to her.

“Alyce, I don’t believe that Charles would like for you to walk unescorted.”

Looking back, Leopold stood with his coat upon his arm, readied to accompany her. She grimaced. She wanted nothing more than to be by herself.

“I was only going for a short walk. What harm could come?”

Leopold shrugged, pulling his coat sleeve over his arm. “I don’t know, Alyce. Nothing I would hope, but, pray, don’t forget you have had two attempts upon your life. Charles has made clear you are never to leave unattended. Of course, I’m certain a footman would follow. I’m also certain Charles would feel better if I accompanied you. Come. I won’t be a bother.”

She nodded and accepted his arm. They strolled down the street in silence. The beauty of the day was lost upon her.

“You seem to have much on your mind.”

Startled out of her trance, she gave Leopold a small smile. “I hope you do not think I’m being rude. I should have warned you I wasn’t good company. If Charles didn’t have need of you today, I’m afraid I have put a damper upon your time.”

“He had a full agenda or he would be escorting you himself. He sent me to watch over you. He didn’t want you to be alone today.”

Within her a silent cry emerged. She had never realized before how vast the void in her heart was. She pressed her lips together, holding back her emotions.

“Come, Alyce, we are friends. Are we not? We have always been friends. You, of all people, understand my meaning. I want to be a friend to you. I want to help you.”

“I don’t know if you can, Leopold. All is in chaos. Nothing makes sense. Perhaps it never did.”

“Then let me offer some advice, please. Let me grasp this opportunity while we aren’t in any danger of being overheard.”

“Then talk freely, Leopold.”

“And quickly. Alyce, I know that you are searching to clear your father’s name. I know the details of what Charles has done and what happened yesterday. I have sat up many a night trying to help Charles decipher the mystery. Oh, one thing I’m certain. Someone is trying to keep the truth in the past, Alyce. Someone powerful doesn’t want the truth to come out. If you keep pressing, I believe that there is a distinct possibility that, even if you discover that truth and it clears your father, all will be suppressed.”

“Oh, Leopold. They could not do that not if Father is innocent…and he’s innocent…”

“Listen and consider all. With all that we have found out, it is more than sufficient to cast doubt upon the story told. You have to ask why? I’m afraid we won’t like the answer.”

“This is what Charles thinks?” Her voice quivered at the thought.

He shook his head. “No. He thinks he is going to find the answers and all will fall into place. He won’t listen to me. He wants to do this to make you happy, Alyce. He wants to clear your father’s name and marry you.”

She stopped and faced him. “You know,” she whispered.

“Of course, I know, Alyce. We have kept no secrets from each other. Come, Alyce, have you never wondered where Charles came up with the idea? It was from me.”

She could not contain her shock at the statement. He nodded to her to keep her pace. His hand patted her arm while he led her down the street.

“It is the perfect solution, Alyce. Charles cares for you deeply, as do I. You care for Charles. Most ton marriages are made on much less. He has much to offer you. Everything that you could ever imagine or want. You can give to him freedom.”

“But my father’s name…”

“In time it will be forgotten. Perhaps not many could forge a marriage with the cloud surrounding your name, but Charles can. His father will fight it. We are both certain of that, even with his change of heart as of late. But once you are married, it will be Charles’s name you carry.”

“I couldn’t do that to Charles if I can’t clear my father’s name. I couldn’t. And what of Lord Casvelyn? He wants justice…”

“He wants you,” Leopold said bluntly.

The color in her face changed a thousand shades. She lost her words and could only stare at his directness.

“It is obvious, Alyce, when he is around you. If Charles will not warn you, I will. He is dangerous, Alyce, and heartless. He will only use you to get to his end. Nothing more. I don’t mean to be cruel. If it is a torrid affair you want, wait until after Charles has heirs. I’m certain as long as you’re discreet it all could be arranged.”

“Leopold! I would never!”

For a moment, he said nothing. “I don’t suppose you think you would, but you might. One can never say what will happen in the future…”

“I don’t know about any of this, Leopold. I’m so confused and now you have made me more so. I can’t think about anything except clearing my father’s name.”

“What if it’s beyond your means, Alyce? What is it worth to you to do so? Your happiness? Charles’s? I have learned in life that happiness, true happiness, is a rare thing. Don’t pass up the opportunity to chase a ghost.”

“Leopold, why are you pressing me so? Charles doesn’t have to marry me. He could marry anyone to cover…”

“But it wouldn’t be you, Alyce. He wouldn’t be happy with anyone else. He wants you.”

* * * *

Alyce sat in the middle of the drawing room of a house she didn’t know, in the company of women she hadn’t the foggiest idea of their names. Across from her, Lissa gave her a helpless smile. A necessary evil, Alyce supposed, when one is launched into society. Lady Breck seemed well versed with the ladies.

In her mind there was nothing worse than pretending to be delightful and carefree when inside, your soul toiled relentlessly. All the ladies seemed to nod politely and smile at the right moment. The notion that she would become one of them dismayed her. Mainly, she surmised, because she wasn’t one of them and wondered if she ever could be.

She hated all of this. She hated being torn between her desire to clear her father’s name and the pain Leopold felt she inflicted upon Charles with this need. Leopold’s words haunted her. Never in her life would she ever intend to inflict hurt upon Charles. He had endured too much within in his life, tormented by his inner being.

Yet it was also his words of warning nagging at her. Lord Casvelyn. She needed not to be told not to trust him, but to deny his lure seemed impossible. She tried to convince herself Lord Casvelyn’s appearance didn’t send her heart aflutter; his touch didn’t send shivers through her body.

“Don’t you think, Miss Rufford?”

Alyce turned to the sound. An older distinguished silver haired lady dressed elegantly raised her eyebrow slightly toward her. Alyce stared blankly at her. Lissa spoke quickly.

"Alyce was educated with me in Lancefield. We shared a governess. I’m afraid I was never quite as adept as Alyce. I believe it was her appreciation in art that drew my cousin’s attention. Alyce has a keen eye for art works.”

“So you have known Lord Tregilgas for a while, my child?”

Alyce pressed her lips together. “Charles…Lord Tregilgas…we have known each other for years, Lady Mallory. I hold only the utmost respect for Lord Tregilgas. He is intent upon making a difference in…”

Lady Mallory laughed. “Oh, child, I do not want to hear of politics. I can see by your eyes that it is not only politics that holds your attention. It is evident what has his eye as well. Understandable. Quite understandable. All these mothers parading their daughters in front of him and here he has had you well hidden from view. I do admit I’m a tad curious.”

“Do not make Miss Rufford uncomfortable,” Lady Breck answered, rescuing Alyce. “I do believe I have told you of their friendship. I can’t imagine what else you are searching for, Lorna. Oh, Alyce, I do believe I see Mrs. Wiggins. Could you be a dear and show her where I’m at? I have to admit I twisted my ankle ever so slightly the other day and it is still bothering me.”

“But of course, Lady Breck,” Alyce replied, thankful for her interceding. Quickly, she disappeared, looking for this Lady Wiggins. She was certain that Lady Breck had in most likelihood introduced her to the lady, but she hadn’t a clue to what the lady looked like. She had met so many over the last couple of weeks. Instead, she eyed her escape... the French doors to the garden.

She did her gracious best to appear nonchalant while she made her way across the floor. Moving from group to group, she made simple responses with a plastered smile. Gradually, she accomplished her goal. Unfortunately, her movements caught the attention of another. While she exited quietly, she felt an arm encompass her own.

Startled, she gazed at the face of one of the loveliest women she had ever met and she knew her. Of course she had been much younger when she had last seen her, but the eyes were the same exquisite shade of violet. Her raven hair twisted in the most fashionable trend, accenting her beautiful complexion. She wore a cream silk taffeta with silk lace edging on lining of her bodice. Alyce couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Priscilla?”

"I hope you will not think me too bold, but I knew it was you,” the young lady said. “It had to be, I told Momma. She did not believe the rumors. Yet it is you. Alyce. My dear lost cousin.”

Alyce’s excitement upon seeing her cousin diminished upon the comprehension of what the word rumors could mean. She wished Charles was at her side, but this would be hers to own. She guided her cousin away from the others down the garden path. She slowed her steps so if any looked they would appear to be chatting about the beauty of the flowers.

“It is good to see you, Priscilla. You look lovely. You must tell me of all the family. I find I haven’t had any word on anyone over the years.”

“I’m sure we won’t be able to go into much, not with all around. I’m being introduced this year. Last year I was in mourning…”

“Mourning?”

“Grandfather. He passed in his sleep, although he was never the same since the scandal days before the Season was to begin last year. Never recovered, Father said. Of course, Grandmother didn’t last a month after.”

Alyce drew in a deep breath, taken back by her bluntness. Her tone held harshness within it that Alyce hadn’t expected. She was in no mood to defend her father with her cousin.

“It is regrettable. I do hate to hear the loss of anyone, but you will have to excuse me; I had no knowledge of his passing since I was disowned by his own words. Let us talk of more pleasant things, such as your coming out. I, too, am enjoying the Season. I don’t think I have seen you as of yet.”

“I do not have a marquess upon my arm, cousin. Even with Grandfather publically disowning Uncle George, I have found many doors closed to me by my name. It is strange that you don’t go by yours. I have not had the advantage of hiding under another name. You, though, have seemed to have done well. I suppose, too, it must be your dowry.”

“Priscilla, you are mistaken if you believe the years have been easy for me. It was not my choice to be cut from my family, my only family.”

“No? I suppose it may not have been, but do not think that the change in your name will protect you from discovery. What will happen when the handsome marquess discovers the lady he is courting is none other than the daughter of England’s most notorious spy?”

Alyce sensed her cousin’s growing irritation. Keeping her voice level and calm, she said simply, “You don’t know me at all if you believe I could withhold such information. I imagine that Charles knows more about my situation than I do myself. It is not my intention to hide behind another name. It will be known soon enough. Pray, I ask you, cousin, why do you hold such bitterness toward me? I have done nothing and do not believe Father did either.”

“In that, you are mistaken. I see now that it is true that the marquess is under your spell.” Priscilla stopped and forced a smile so that anyone watching would think they spoke of simple things. “Enjoy all while you can, cousin. It will not last. Not when all the ton knows who you are.”

“What is that supposed to mean? Is it some sort of threat?”

“Oh, no, dear Alyce. It is more of a warning. Do not be too distraught. In time, it is only justice for you to feel the wrath of those who hold your father in abhorrence. It is only fair you feel a semblance of what we have endured over time.”

“In that, you have no idea of what you speak.” Alyce gestured Priscilla forward. The conversation unsettled her, not only because of the underlying threat she made. It reminded her of what faced her. How could she ever survive strangers if her own family felt so strongly? “It may be for the best if we end this conversation.”

Priscilla reached out and grasped hold of Alyce’s arm, not giving her a choice but to pause. “In that, you are right. I leave you with only one question. Your marquess…you believe he will hold to you when all discover the truth, but what will he do when you lose your inheritance?”

Priscilla released Alyce’s arm and sauntered by her with a knowing smile on her lips, leaving Alyce wondering the meaning to her words.

Chapter Nine

Alyce called at Charles’s townhouse two days later with Lissa in tow. She had one thought in mind...to hold a private conversation with Charles. She hoped to have talked to him before now, but he seemed quite distant in his manner the last few days. She followed the footman up the stairs into the library.

Upon her entrance into the room, Leopold eyed her strangely. He stood, gesturing for her to have a seat beside him. Charles made no effort to acknowledge her. Instead he continued staring out the window. Suddenly, her confidence in her visit faded. She seemed to have intruded upon a private conversation.

"Good morning, Alyce. Lissa. An unexpected but welcome surprise." Charles slowly turned from the window. She relaxed. He appeared quite normal this morning, dressed impeccably, looking quite handsome. He walked across the room and took her hand to his lips. "You didn't have to waken so early. You could have sent a message. I would have responded. I hope you took all the necessary precautions."

"Without question. I have your escort at all times I leave the townhouse. And I did not mind at all, Charles, coming here. Lissa was gracious enough to accompany me, for she knows I have an issue to discuss with you in private," she heard herself saying. "I have found it hard to do so elsewhere."

An undeniable subtle tightness flexed his face. She had seen the look before and it worried her. He nodded. "I apologize, of course. I have been occupied with affairs and have neglected you in the most atrocious manner."

"You have not, Charles. It is not my..."

Suddenly he laughed. "Am I to be reprimanded? And we aren't even married yet?"

Color rushed to her cheeks. She had not agreed. Moreover, there had not been a formal request. She dared not to look at Lissa. And the servants! The footman stood no more than a few feet away.

"Charles!" she uttered under her breath.

He relaxed his manner. He urged Leopold up. "Leopold, why do you not take my cousin down into the drawing room? She has the look as though she may need some refreshment. We will meet you both down there shortly."

Alyce waited until Charles dismissed the footman after Leopold had escorted Lissa down the stairs. He strolled over to her side and sat. Instantly, she took his hand. "Oh, Charles, do not do that!"

"Do what, moppet?"

"Say things as though we are official. Please. Don't."

"Why not? I told you what I have in mind."

"Because," she sighed heavily while a series of discomforting impressions encompassed her. "Because your father does not want you to marry me. Because there is much more for us to deal with. Because, Charles, I don't know if it is in your best interest. Oh...do not look at me in that manner…please, do not stop me...not for a moment. Let me have my say. I am worried, Charles.”

“That will not do at all, my dear.” He reached over and pulled her to him.

She gripped tight to his arm, fighting back the tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, dear Charles, I have missed this so. It is so hard to do the right thing at all times. I have wanted nothing more than to break away from everyone’s eyes and talk with you as we did in the past at Lancefield. I know that I should have let you know even this morning of my intention to visit, but I was afraid you would postpone it. You seemed to have avoided me these last few days. I have been so dreadfully troubled.”

“It is only between the Season, my duties I’m obligated to perform, and this investigation,” his voice softened while his hand stroked her arm. “Come, tell me all.”

“Oh, Charles,” her voice quivered. “It is all. I know you dismissed what I thought I saw, but at times I do think I'm going mad. Then remembering all too clearly all I had long forgotten. I want to help. I believe I might even recognize the man that was there that dreadful day. I have dreamed of him every night since.”

“I do not want you to. Do you understand?” His voice tightened with an intensity that surprised her. “You are not certain that it isn't a figment of your imagination, created by a desire to clear your father. Still, we can't dismiss the danger this information could hold. It could well be the reason someone is after you. Let us search for the answer, Alyce. The information gives cause for us to tread softer, for the information leads to a powerful family. Give us time. Do not become impatient now.”

“I do not believe I have been. I have faith in you, but do not push me away, Charles. Do not say that you’re not. I can tell something is bothering you and I’m afraid it has to do with me. I can see it in your eyes and face.  As you know me, I know you. So do not try to hide from me. It is the reason I’m here.”

“What do you believe I’m hiding from you?”

Alyce withdrew from the embrace. She couldn’t say the words being so close to him. Her somber eyes searched his. “It is time for the truth, Charles. When we plotted my plan to clear my father’s name, all seemed so simple. How easy it was to think we could thwart society for a righteous cause. It is not so easy. It is what I wanted you to know. I am not going to hold you to all, my dear friend. I do not want to see you ruined because of me.”

“You have me confused. What are you talking of?”

“You do not understand?”

A small smile edged his face. “I thought you came here to tell me something appalling about Lord Casvelyn.”

Her mouth opened at the mention of his name, but no words came.

“Do not be shocked. I have warned you about him from the beginning. I have been worried about his effect on you. I will say it again: do not trust the man.”

“Charles, what do you want me to say? I have never…felt…”

“It is why he is so dangerous. He is on a mission to find his brother’s murderer. He now understands that all is in a mist with his brother’s killing. That is all, Alyce. Nothing more. He will take advantage of you - ply you with words and kisses – to find the truth. Please, tell me you have done nothing to compromise yourself.”

His eyes darkened in their intense focus. Her gaze shifted. Never before had she had the urge to keep anything from her dearest friend.

“Charles, I have not compromised myself, but he is relentless. Or perchance I’m naïve.”

Charles gripped her shoulders and faced her. “Understand, Alyce, I have all planned. All. It will work. I will make you happy. I promise. Trust me, but do not fall under Casvelyn’s spell. It will ruin everything. For one thing I assure you I cannot do, is take another’s child as mine, for I will not do that to my father.”

“This is not what I wanted to talk of today, Charles. I would never try to deceive you with another’s child! You know me better, I would hope.”

She had no intention of lying to him with his declaration, but how could she tell him of the emotions the man spurred within her with only a touch? In all, though, she thought, the whole of conversation was irrelevant. For as much as Charles had promised, she could not see the promises fulfilled, not after meeting her cousin.

“I trust you. It is him I do not.”

“Charles, do you not understand, though, what I’m trying to say? It is not about Lord Casvelyn or your father. It is about me. I know you. All you have promised to me, I know you will hold to those promises. Yet I also comprehend those promises can lead you to ruin. That is what I want to talk of.”

“Then tell me quickly.”

“I saw my cousin at a luncheon a few days ago. Priscilla Hythe, Uncle Lionel’s only child. She held such bitterness within her toward my father…me. She blames my father for being shunned by Society. I believe she feels the weight of the shame worse than Tobias because Tobias being Uncle James’s heir, he has the title to shield him. She has only the name to bare. She told me plainly that you would suffer with my connection once it is known.”

His face fell. He shifted his weight. She realized he had not expected these words. She continued. “She told me, Charles, that the whole of the ton would turn their backs upon you and me…she said that I would not gain my inheritance. What did she mean? Why would I not gain my inheritance? It is mine. Isn’t it?”

He released his grip, but she grasped hold of him. “Charles, don’t turn from me. Tell me. What did she mean?”

“It means nothing to me, Alyce,” he breathed in deeply. “Years ago a claim upon your inheritance was made by your uncle. Up until a few weeks ago it held little chance of succeeding, but Lord Laurens, the judge who presides over such matters, died a few months ago. A new judge has been appointed.”

“And?” she asked. “Do not lie to me, Charles. I need the truth.”

“Then trust me. It matters little, if at all, but there was truth in your cousin’s words. But there is little chance of that happening, even with the new judge. It only adds to issues. I want you not to worry, though. It matters not to me.”

* * * *

The morning was not very old when once more Alyce set out in the carriage with Lissa, but this visit had been at Lissa’s insistence. It would not be a social call. Alyce sat across the carriage from her silent friend. In all the time Alyce had been within London, all her attention had been upon her own affairs. She reprimanded herself greatly for overlooking Lissa’s feelings.

Alyce found the whole of Lissa’s situation easy to overlook. At a glance, Lissa seemed to have all any well-bred woman would crave: a refined husband, a beautiful home, no blaring scandal threatening to crush one’s dreams…. Yet within Lissa’s eyes, she held onto her own sadness.

This morning’s excursion dealt with Alyce’s welfare on Lissa's insistence.

“We have known each other for many years. I know I have not seen much of you since my marriage, Alyce, but I consider you a dear friend. I cannot in good conscience withhold my opinion.”

To Alyce’s shock, Lissa docile personality altered. Even now as the carriage rolled to a stop, Alyce found it hard to believe that Lissa had arranged this visit to a solicitor.

“You need to see to your own welfare, Alyce. I have listened to you proclaim your intention to oversee your own affairs when you turn one and twenty. The time is not long and you have let others deal with affairs that you should be aware of.”

“But it is Charles, Lissa. He is seeing to my welfare.”

“I will not argue with you that he is doing so in the way he sees is best for you, but I wish I had the opportunity to take control, if only a semblance, of my life. My parents thought my marriage the best for me also.”

Alyce said nothing. Lissa did not need to explain. She had experienced the coolness between husband and wife, cool indifference, but she had not suspected the depth of that indifference.

“Do not think less of me. Please, Alyce. I want only to help you. Hearing Charles’s intention toward you, knowing in my heart that Uncle Harold is using you to cause a distraction, I feel I must do something. Do not look at me in that way, Alyce. I know. I have always known. I love Charles, also, and as you, would never betray him. And never to Thomas, upon my word. But it is also that which I want you to think of.”

“I don’t understand, Lissa. You sound as if you are warning me against Charles.”

“I want you only to understand what it will be like to be married and have your husband prefer another to yourself. I do, Alyce. I know the loneliness of the nights.”

“I know what Charles has offered, Lissa. I do not go into it blindly. I love Charles…”

“As a brother,” Lissa finished the sentence for Alyce. She pressed down her gown and prepared for their arrival. “I know he will not mean for it to happen, but it will. And within you a void will begin and grow. But this is not about Charles. This visit I arranged is about you, Alyce. I have listened to Thomas’s conversations with his mother. It has concerned me greatly.”

“I have been warned, Lissa. I know that I have many enemies because of the circumstance of my father’s death. I know that Sir Thomas resents my presence…”

“Then you understand he does it only to stay in favor with Uncle Harold, but it is to end soon. In that, do you realize? I cannot in good conscience sit by any longer.”

“I do feel as though all around me is collapsing,” Alyce agreed. She thought for a moment in pensive consideration. She watched Lissa, nervous and flustered, yet willing to face the consequences for her actions to help her. “Tell me, Lissa. What do I not know?”

“I’m not certain, but over the years I have been married to Thomas I have learned he does nothing without a purpose. He has abhorred his mother and myself overseeing your coming out into society, but I heard him tell his mother that by the end of the week all should be as it was. I know he was talking of you. It scared me, Alyce.”

“The end of the week? Are you certain he was talking of me?” Alyce asked, but her mind raced upon the revelation.

“It is why we are here. I asked a dear friend to arrange this for you. Only Alyce…” Lissa paused. She peered out the window as the carriage drew to a stop and then looked back at her. “You cannot say where we have been or with whom.”

Upon her descent down the steps, Alyce caught sight of a pale young man greeting Lissa. Lissa’s face colored when she turned to introduce the two. Alyce barely acknowledged the gentleman, a Mr. Arthur Butler. If he didn’t stand in front of her, she may have not given him a second glance with his unimpressive appearance. Her keen eyes caught the looks exchanged between the two in front of her and comprehended quickly there was more between the two than mere acquaintance.

Choosing to ignore the observation, Alyce acknowledged the greeting, looking behind the man to the neighborhood of brick establishments.

“Mr. Butler is a solicitor,” Lissa said. “He has kindly offered to help you in your situation.”

“It would be a pleasure, Miss Rufford. If you would kindly allow me to escort you within my chambers, I believe we will find it more to our comfort,” Mr. Arthur Butler said in a mild manner.

Within minutes, Alyce sat down in his inner chamber beside Lissa. The clerk had seen to some refreshments and withdrew from the room, closing soundly the door behind him. Butler organized some papers on the small table between them.

“Lis…Mrs. Breck has confided in me the circumstances that have brought you here today. Let me assure you that all will go no further. Mrs. Breck has placed her faith in my ability to decipher your needs.”

“I appreciate Lissa’s efforts on my behalf, Mr. Butler, but I’m unsure what my needs are.”

Mr. Butler clutched his fingers together. He gazed over at her in thought. “When Mrs. Breck came to me, I took the liberty to try to discover the exact nature of your estate and guardianship. From her description, I was taken aback by the extent of your estate. If you will allow me to be so bold to add, given the circumstances of your father’s death. I wasn’t aware your father had a daughter.”

“I believe I have been hidden away from society, Mr. Butler, but there comes a time when I can be no more in secret.”

“Of course. I will not waste any more time. The discreet inquiries I made disturbed me. Your care went through the hands of Colonel Montague Tolworthy's solicitor, Mr. Joshua Wimberley, who is also in partnership with the Duke of Arungdon’s solicitor, a Mr. Brenham Kingston. From Mrs. Breck’s description of your youth, all is confusing, for you had the means to have been well-looked after and not left in the care of…servants.”

“I believe it was a desire to hide me from the world, Mr. Butler.”

“It would seem they accomplished their goal until now. Now, though, you are fast approaching your birthday to become one and twenty. Most in your situation would have set the age of maturity to be placed at five and twenty, but all seems to be in place for maturity at your coming birthday. In fact, all has been secured. Your estate is intact and if all remains as it is now, you will become one of the richest heiresses in England.”

Alyce waited. His words hung in the air. There was a reason Lissa felt it necessary to have brought her down to a solicitor. Mr. Butler broke from his gaze and tapped his finger on top of the pile of papers.

“For over seven years, none of the claims against your father’s estate have succeeded. Your father’s family had held out during that time that the estate should fall back into their hands. Until recently, it is my understanding that the claims had been unfounded. But now a new judge presides and has opened the case once more.”

Alyce nodded. “I’m not surprised, Mr. Butler. My cousin informed me of their intentions to have my inheritance confiscated. Charles…Lord Tregilgas also confirmed the claim. Surely my guardian has reacted. Would he not look after my best interest?”

“Ah…Miss Rufford, this is what disturbs me greatly. It is not your cousins that you need to fear claiming your inheritance. For not only is your guardian not fighting the confiscation, his grandson, Lord Julian Casvelyn, has filed a claim of his own. Miss Rufford, it is this claim that will be met. I have been informed that the presiding judge is set to confiscate the whole of your estate and award it to Lord Casvelyn.”

* * * *

“No, Alyce, I do not care to talk of it,” Lissa said. “You have enough issues to worry about. I am not one of them.”

“You are wrong, Lissa,” Alyce spoke in a low voice, leaning over for Lissa’s ears only. She had no desire to talk of this in the middle of the drawing room, but she feared she would not have the opportunity again.

Lissa glanced back over her shoulder. “If you insist,” she replied with reluctance. “We cannot do so here. Come. Let us go into the garden. The walls have ears in this house.”

Alyce drew in a deep breath. She herself needed a walk. The visit to Lissa’s friend had brought only more questions, questions that Alyce wasn’t certain whether she wanted to know the answers. Anger burned within her on the betrayal of Lord Julian. Had not Charles warned her Lord Casvelyn desired only vengeance? What a fool she had been: believing he wanted her, believing he cared....

Alyce pushed back the thought. Self-pity was a luxury she could ill afford. Quickening her steps to walk beside her friend, she intertwined her arm with Lissa. Her head leaned over, touching Lissa, and pressed her for details . "So talk to me, my dearest friend. I have been selfish. And you are in pain. I saw it in your eyes yesterday.”

“You are imagining things, Alyce,” Lissa said. “Do you like the new pelargonium? Lady Warren suggested it to Charles and was kind enough to send over a couple for his garden.”

“As I do not know about gardening, I can only say that the flowers add color and beauty to the garden. Is that an appropriate answer? Or do you want me to expand more upon the wonders of such an immaculate garden?”

Lissa laughed. A small laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. It was good to see her laugh, Alyce thought. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her friend laugh, certainly not since she arrived.

“It is good you are here, Alyce. It is. I have missed you. I have missed home. Mother. I wanted so desperately to visit. Thomas won’t allow it. Says I’m needed here. He can’t entertain without me by his side.”

“I understand that Sir Thomas would not be as successful without you.”

Lissa grimaced. Alyce began to suspect that the marriage was worse than she imagined. Lissa gripped tight to Alyce’s hand and squeezed.

“The marriage, you understand, was quite advantageous to both our families. Uncle needed another voice in Parliament, House of Commons, and Thomas needed the connection to a powerful family. I wanted to have you here to visit also, but of course it was quite out of the question when Thomas discovered who you were. Uncle Harold told him after we were married.”

“You do not have to apologize to me, Lissa. I have always understood. When you married, I lost my constant companion, but I had thought it for the best. What is wrong? You were the one that was supposed to be happy. You seemed so before you married. You wanted to marry him, even though I made fun of him when he visited. Do you remember?”

Lissa smiled at the remembrance. “I had thought so, too. I thought myself quite fortunate. Thomas, so striking, courted me to the fullest. Of course, he was most appropriate. Even in the brief moments alone, he only kissed my hand, but I was so enthralled that one such as he would find me of interest. How naïve I was not to have realized his intention of connecting our families.”

“Come, Lissa, you are an attractive woman. Of course, he wanted you as well. A grand marriage for both of you…”

Lissa pressed her lips together tightly and shook her head. “No, Alyce. He has made it clear my purpose. He has strange ideas. Mine ventured to love and children; his to bettering his position. I’m to serve as a hostess to the world, to greet his associates with a bright smile upon my face, with his mother by my side. I cannot make a move without her by me.”

Alyce stared at Lissa. The venom in Lissa’s voice shocked her. “Perhaps you could take a holiday with your husband away from here…”

Lissa laughed a hardened laugh. “Then it would mean he would be alone with me and, dear Alyce, he has no intention of ever being alone with me. He has not even allowed me the hope of a child to brighten my world. No, a child would take me away from being a hostess and he couldn’t have such an inconvenience.”

Alyce rarely had known Lissa to display such melancholy. Then slowly comprehension of Lissa’s words sank within her. “Do you mean he does not…visit you…at night?”

“No, Alyce.” Lissa stopped walking. “I have failed as a wife.”

“What are you saying? That he has stopped coming to you…”

“You don’t understand, Alyce. He has never come to me.”

Alyce took both of Lissa’s hands in hers. “Ever? You are a…”

“Virgin, still. Oh, it gets worse. He says that in time he may decide to have children. If I ever attempt to find comfort…from another…he would know and divorce me. Publically humiliate me and my family. I know you intended to talk to me about your concern about Arthur. He is only a friend, if a dear one. There is little to worry about, Alyce. Even if I’m tempted, I cannot.” Lissa blinked back tears.

Stunned by the confession, Alyce didn’t know what to say. She wanted only to take her friend into her arm to comfort her. She turned her head to the house. Mrs. Breck stood in the window. Alyce refrained. Turning Lissa, she led her down the path.

Coming back to the terrace, Lissa leaned down to Alyce. “Don’t worry about me. It is my life. I have come to accept it as it is. You…have a chance to determine yours. I’m not telling you not to marry Charles. He is different than Thomas. He cares for you and you him. It would be different, but this I know, Alyce, friendship cannot satisfy all needs. It is only I wish for you what I have never had.”

Chapter Ten

Long ignoring his government obligation with Parliament in session, Julian's desk sat littered with piles of paper. Instead, the whole of his attention lay with trying to decipher the mystery surrounding his brother's death. His every waking moment was absorbed with trying to piece together the puzzle. He met with anyone associated with old reports; used all his political capital to procure meetings with high officials and secured this morning's meeting with His Grace, Lord Richard Lennox, Duke of Richmond, Master-General of the Board of Ordnance.

“George Hythe. It has been a long time since I’ve heard the name,” Lord Lennox said. His masked face betrayed no emotion. “In all, I’m confused to your questions. I thought it had been established he murdered your brother and then killed himself. If it is details upon his theft of artillery and ammunition from the government, I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to divulge information of that nature.”

“But it's those particulars of the crime I seek, Your Grace. Over the last few weeks, questions have arisen concerning my brother’s death. It is these questions for which I need answers. And I do believe you would be aware of those questions.”

Lord Lennox sat back in his high plush chair. Crossing his arms across his chest, he sighed. “Are you certain you want to go down this path, Lord Casvelyn? In all, you have closure. Your brother proclaimed as a hero. If I’m not mistaken, I hear that very soon you are to be settled upon George Hythe’s huge estate. So forgive me if I am confused upon your questions.”

“I want the truth. I will not be put off, fearing what I might find. I knew my brother well and trust fully that his death was what it seemed. A grave injustice. I have discovered evidence that indicates that Hythe might not have killed my brother. Moreover, all indicates that Hythe was murdered, not killed by his own hand.”

Julian met Lord Lennox’s glare with his own. Leaning forward, Lord Lennox said, “I know only from reports, Lord Casvelyn. I have been given on good authority that all was taken care of in the best interest of all. You should leave it as it is.”

“Forgive me, Your Grace, but I cannot in good conscience. A young woman’s life is endangered. I believe it is connected to her father’s death.”

Lord Lennox picked up a paper. He gazed on it for a time. “I assume you talk of George Hythe’s daughter. I understand the whole of the situation is complicated. I wish I could help you more than telling you that it is best to leave all as it is. If you find it impossible to do so, I would advise you to see Lord Sinclair. He is the one that closed the case.”

“I would only point out that in one attempt on the lady’s life, the assailants used Lord Sinclair’s name to gain entrance.”

“I was not aware of that information, but it would be my assumption they used it to their advantage and not with the knowledge of Lord Sinclair.”

“It was my assumption also, except they had his card. The question would be how they obtained it.”

“Unfortunately, we all have been the victims of thievery, Lord Casvelyn. This I will tell you. I have known Lord Sinclair for most of his adult life. He is loyal to the crown. It is what I will leave you with.”

Julian rode back to his home. His mind rankled with the conversation. No doubts remained within him that his brother’s death had been a cover-up. George Hythe had become a scapegoat. If he hadn’t been mistaken, Lord Lennox confirmed that the conspiracy had been high up within the government. High enough to protect at all costs. The insinuation was not lost upon Julian. Rumors of the princes’ mis-steps had long been whispered. God help him if it was the princes he was beginning to suspect.

* * * *

"I must leave. I promised Henrietta I would escort her to the Lady Brancroft's," Sebastian said. "I will see you there."

"I'm passing. I do not believe polite society would appreciate my company this evening." Julian raised his glass to his friend and drank down its contents. He was not going to have an argument from Sebastian, not after spending the whole afternoon discussing the situation without solution. Moreover, the truth was Alyce would be there. For the life of him, he couldn't deal with her this night.

"Then, I will leave you now."

Julian refilled his glass. He stared absently at the liquor. Barely placing the rim to his lips, a knock disturbed his thoughts. With great reluctance, Julian sat his glass down. "It will do you no good, Sebastian. I have quite made up my mind..."

The door opened, but it was not Sebastian that entered. A young, lean gentleman, blond with a ruddy complexion, walked in with a tentative step. Before Julian could utter a question, the young man raised his hand slightly.

"Pray forgive me, Lord Casvelyn. I need only a moment of your time. I spoke to your friend, Mr. Byrne. He said it would be best if I delivered my message myself."

"Who the hell are you?" Julian asked. From behind the man, he caught sight of Sebastian in the doorframe. Why did he get the feeling he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear?

"Tobias Hythe, the Honorable Tobias Hythe, my lord. I understand if you care not to give me audience, but I don't come for myself."

Julian stood. He caught Sebastian's eyes. His friend nodded to Julian. With the greatest reluctance, Julian said, "Then sit and make it quick. Who is it that you speak for?"

Tobias lowered his gaze for a moment. Then he looked back up at Julian. "My cousin, my lord. I have come here to ask you not to go to Lady Brancroft's tonight. I ask that you show some pity upon her."

"You have me confused, Hythe."

"Damn it!" Hythe exclaimed. "Are you not a gentleman? If it bears, I will..."

"Call me out?" Julian laughed. "If you choose, but if I duel with one I usually know the cause."

"I believe you know well the cause. My cousin, Mary Hythe. Her father was accused of murdering your brother."

"I know well who she is. I don't understand your concern."

"That I know it is Mary that is here under the name Alyce Rufford. Yes, I'm aware and after tonight, all of London will also."

* * * *

Nonchalantly as he could while containing his growing irritation, Julian mingled in the crowd. And a crowd it was…the largest ball of the Season to date. His eyes glanced around, but he hadn’t spotted Alyce. Had he not warned her? Now she would have no choice but to listen. He had only to get to her before dinner. He smiled and acknowledged the mass of faces, if somewhat distracted. Then he saw her.

Good Gawd! She looked lovely. Dressed in a celestial blue satin gown, it flowed down her body, flattering her figure to the fullest. Her hair set up with curls, framing her face, only called attention to her sparkling eyes. Her friend, lover, fiancé, whatever the hell he was, led her from the dance floor. Her face flushed with enjoyment of the activity. His eyes bore down on her with an intense stare while young Tregilgas escorted her back to the side of Lady Breck.

Lady Breck had the look upon her face with a need to give Alyce a tongue lashing for some unknown reason, but from his view Julian saw she refrained. Tregilgas did not leave her side. He watched while Alyce leaned over and whispered to her escort. Without hesitation, his eyes looked up and surveyed the room. Instinctually, his arm tightened around her waist, protecting her from an unseen assault. The next moment she was on the dance floor once more.

“Someone else is eyeing Miss Hythe,” Sebastian said. He walked to his friend's side.

Julian looked across the room. Sebastian was correct. He recognized the offender, Alyce’s uncle, Lionel Hythe. Julian avoided him at all cost. The man reminded him of a crow that had gathered around a dead rabbit, flying off at the first sign of danger and then creeping back when he thought nobody was watching. His brother, Sir James, was no better...a sniveling coward at best. His opinion only deepened with his prior conversation with Tobias Hythe. Vultures, the lot of them; well, perhaps not Tobias, but Julian had yet to determine his purpose.

Whatever the purpose, the stage was set in readiness. No more than moments after the dance ended, Tregilgas received a message that sent him out of the ballroom with only a quick whisper to Alyce. Julian eyed all while he walked toward Alyce only seconds before her Uncle Lionel.

With a slight bow, Julian asked, "May I have this dance, my lady?"

Upon exiting the dance floor, Alyce sensed trouble even before she caught sight of Leopold. After conversing with Leopold, Charles begged her pardon and departed, leaving her alone in a crowd of strangers. Oh, not desolate, she reminded herself. Was she not with Lissa?

The thrill of the ball dissipated, being left with Lady Breck overseeing her without Charles by her side. Only minutes earlier, she had enjoyed the most wonderful dance when Lady Breck reprimanded her for monopolizing Charles. Charles, in turn, had danced with her again, laughing at Lady Breck.

The laughing died. Foreboding encompassed her to the point where she felt as though all eyes were inspecting her. Despite herself, apprehension gripped her. Soon she recognized her fear. Emerging from the faces in the crowd, a man stepped forward, walking straight for her. Elegantly dressed from his immaculate powder wig down to his leather-buckled shoes, he walked with an arrogance only birth and wealth afforded. He smiled. Too much experience within her life had taught her to be wary of the man, a man she once called uncle. She did no more. Lionel Hythe.

Trapped with nowhere to turn, she was taken by surprise by a familiar voice behind her. She turned, facing Lord Julian, who bowed slightly and asked, “May I have this dance, my lady?”

She hesitated a moment, briefly contemplating her situation. Shock and confusion by Lord Julian’s appearance confounded her. First, she had not been officially introduced to him in a social setting and second…he never made a public display toward her. Staring at her other option, she curtseyed. Accepting his hand, he led her toward the dance floor.

“I was not expecting to see you,” she whispered while her feet fell into step of the dance. “And to dance. What is wrong?”

“I believe you can see what is wrong,” Julian answered, glancing overtly across the room to where her uncle retreated.

The music took his step from her. Her eyes swept around the room. In the far corner she caught sight of Lissa in deep conversation with her mother-in-law, Lissa’s frown evident from afar. Lissa shook her head, but in the next instant her husband walked by her side, refraining Lissa from walking away.

Alyce’s step faltered. The lively music resounded, but for the life of her Alyce couldn’t find her place. She dared not look up at Julian. She had no desire for him to see the panic growing steadily within her. A moment passed; a supportive arm rounded her, leading her from the dance floor.

“Come. Let me get you refreshment.”

“I’m about to be renounced, am I not?” Her voice faded. She gazed up at him while he led her out of the ballroom. He gave her no answer. “Charles is gone…called away…it cannot be done with him here to defend me…His father?”

"I would imagine that no one would try such an open forum without his knowledge. Your family also."

"I am to believe you because?"

"Other than the fact that I have pledged to protect you, your cousin Tobias confessed all to me while he attempted to call me out for the despicable plan conceived tonight. Seems he believes your father to be innocent also. Moreover, I suspect that you know it is the truth.

“If you stay here, an announcement will be proclaimed in the middle of supper of your identity. Your cousin, Priscilla, first whispering around it is you. Your uncles confirming the fact.  Mrs. Breck, appalled, of course, will back away from you. Leaving you alone to the stares of the ton. I believe you can well imagine the scene.”

“A scene which you have well cautioned me of. I don’t understand. Why? It was all to…” Her thoughts scrambled. She stopped. She almost stated her purpose of defending Charles. “It makes no sense. Why would Lord Tregilgas publically embarrass me when Charles has shown me…?”

She looked up at Lord Julian. A sudden grasp of her situation filled her. The distraction she served did not mean she had to be held to be respectable; better served if she was disgraced. Charles would be shielded from the terrible rumors with the scandalous love affair with her; moreover, it made it impossible for Charles to offer her marriage. A scandalous love affair would not be held against Charles. Who would dare question his actions, falling in love with such a disgraceful woman! She, though, would be ruined.

She broke her gaze, lowering it. She withdrew her hand from his arm. “I wish to go home.”

“I have all arranged. A carriage awaits. The question arises: where is home to you?”

She looked back up at the man who saved her from the public humiliation of being announced the daughter of a hated traitor and he whose brother her father allegedly had murdered. Her mind raced. She couldn’t return to the Breck’s. She would never! Charles would take her in, but it would only confirm the rumors that surely would abound after tonight.

“In that, I have no answer. I want only to leave.”

Lord Julian nodded. His arm rounded her, exiting from a door in the back of the house through the garden. She gave no thought to her actions of leaving with Lord Julian, only escaping.

Chapter Eleven

Alyce infuriated the hell out of him. She needed not to be told of the harsh ramifications of the happenings of the night. He supposed that she had known that the time would come to face the cruel reality of the world around her. Or had she foolishly hoped…

He wouldn’t know. She hadn’t uttered a word upon entering the carriage. She refused to look at him. Her head turned from his gaze. She cried no tears but her being dimmed as if a tide of desolation encompassed her. He found a sudden urge to comfort her.

"I want to go find Charles." Her low voice carried in the silence.

"And that would be where?"

He returned her statement too quickly, too severely. Damn if he went through all this trouble of rescuing her to hand her back to Tregilgas. She moved closer to the window and pulled back the curtain.

“Then where are we headed? To Evermonde? Pray, why make the effort? To what will it avail?”

“I’m leaving the destination to you, my dear. I told my coachman to continue until you have given word.”

“How am I to know? I don’t have a home.” She glanced back over to him. Even in the dim light, the glare from her eyes could not be denied. “Or perhaps the better question would be why didn’t you leave me to my fate? Or do you have in mind a better revenge upon me?”

Astonished at her words, he sat upright to look into her eyes. “Revenge? Do you think that is what I’m doing? Taking revenge out upon you?”

“I do not think, my lord. I know. You have been very efficient in your efforts. You should be commended.”

He laughed, but she stared at him with cold distain. Her eyes reflected her abhorrence for him, challenging him to question her. From her reaction, he knew what he should do, what a true gentleman would do, but this night he didn't feel like a gentleman.

He should take her to Evermonde. To his grandfather, her guardian. Let him protest her treatment. Then leave her. He could investigate his brother's death on the information he held. He had no need for her anymore.

Yet a dark urge emerged within him to meet her challenge and prove to her what she really wanted. What he wanted. And he wanted to take her and possess her body.

“Tell me, Alyce. Tell me what have I done to elicit such emotion from you? You seem to be debating whether it would have been better for you to have stayed.”

“I had no choice. I had to leave. I could have never…it is pointless to discuss.”

He crossed over to sit beside her. She rose, but Julian gripped her arm, halting her mid-motion. She jerked, loosening her head piece. He reached up and swiftly dispensed with the distraction, tossing it to the other seat. Her hair fell out of its arrangement, spilling along her shoulders and down her back.

“Restrain yourself.” She looked at him in utter disgust.

“I am restraining myself,” he said. He reached over and caressed her face. “Tell me now what I have done to cause you to react in this manner.”

“Don’t touch me,” she murmured, but her body betrayed her. He saw she shivered, not from fright, but in silent anticipation.

"Tell me," he demanded.

She pushed back from him with both her hands, but he didn't relent. "Let go of me. Is it total humiliation you seek? Have I not suffered enough?"

"You make no sense, Alyce. I saved you from humiliation. Why would you think I would want to do you harm?"

"Then answer me, my lord. Why? Did you not believe I would eventually find out I have lost my fortune by your hand? Before I came to London, I knew well I played with fire. Naïve in my heart, I believed all would fall into place. I know my father is innocent. I thought you did also. How wrong I was. And now I have no inheritance. You, my lord, have well seen to my needs and now I have nothing: no home, no reputation, no inheritance…. Before, at least, if I was to be shunned by society, I had my inheritance to survive upon. You have succeeded. I have nothing..."

Whatever debate held within him ended then. He was done playing games with the woman beside him. A voice within him warned, temper! temper! Frustration, annoyance, and exasperation weighed upon him. After all he had done to save her from her assailants and herself! How she had found out about the confiscation, he didn’t know. He couldn’t deny it, but in truth he did all to protect her. It mattered little with what he had in mind. He was to have told her, but in time. And, by all that was good, now she thought him a thief!

He had been patient, but no longer. Never had he gone to such lengths for anyone...much less a woman! Never had he allowed his emotions to rule him. Never! Gone was any rational thought, replaced with only an urge. He burned for her and was in no mood to be denied.

Alyce look at Julian and shuddered at his dark, brooding gaze. The whole of his mood altered upon the statement of her knowledge in a way she could not ignore. Danger loomed in the darkness of the carriage with his presence. The need to flee from his touch, his devastating touch, swept through her. His handsome face was so close, too close. She felt his breath upon her. She could not allow him to affect her in this manner where she lost all reason. She pushed back against him.

“Do you have no honor?” she spat out the words with all the venom she felt. Her own frustration met his. “You cannot even defend yourself!”

He caught her hands in his and secured her firmly within his grasp. A rush of feeling swept through her, sparks lighting across her skin. With little doubt, he could feel her reaction. She realized he must enjoy this power he had over her: his goal to shatter and destroy her, not physically, but in every other way. Revenge.

Realization he could so easily blazed through her. She should have listened to Charles’s warning, but for the life of her she couldn’t control her heart. Even through the anger and betrayal, she could not deny the effect he had over her. She needed to collect herself. She was a means to an end and nothing more.

“I do not need to defend myself, my lady,” he admonished her soundly. She had ignited a rage within him, heard clearly in his tone. She edged back. He did not relent. “I am a man of honor. After all that we have been through, it would seem unlikely I would seek revenge upon you in that manner. Revenge has been the farthest from my mind with you. I believe I have been quite honest in what I want from you.”

Her heart fluttered. Time slowed while she stared at him, afraid to turn from him, afraid not to. His gaze penetrated her. Flames aroused. Innocent as she was, she saw it in his eyes. In no more than a feeble attempt, she sighed in a low, weak voice, “I will be deceived no longer. I have been no more than a pawn to be played with…”

He ignored her words, exploding passionately. “Everything I’ve done is to protect you. Everything…” His expression tightened, so full of intensity that it frightened her. He pulled her to him abruptly; she lost her breath. “Did it ever occur to you that someone in your family might want you dead? That, in all, someone seeking your demise might not have to do with your father’s death but to better their fortunes? It was deemed the best course of action.”

“By whom?” she demanded with sudden ferocity. “Who deemed it best for me to lose my fortune?”

“I did,” he asserted. He kissed her before she could respond.

A softening warmth replaced her anger and mellowed her emotions under the kiss. He encompassed her completely. The kiss was not brief, but long and demanding. She willed herself not to let the kiss affect her, not to relax her distrusting vigil, but to no avail. Tremors echoed within her while her body submitted to the intimacy. Suddenly, she was quivering, wanting him, needing him to continue what he had started.

Luring her with kisses until a fiery fervor caught her, his mouth burned her neck with a ruthless, determined drive toward satisfaction. He caressed her body, her breasts; his firm hands claiming and possessive. She found her defenses failing, fading into the air around her until she could deny him nothing.

“Julian…I can’t…I shouldn’t…” Her pleas sounded feeble even to her ears.

“Tell me you don't want me to kiss you. Tell me you don't want me to touch you. Tell me you don't want me," he demanded in a deep intense voice. The light of passion flamed in his eyes.

It sounded ominous; if he left her at this moment, a void would encapsulate her, threatening even the air she breathed. She permitted it because she had no desire for him to cease. She wanted this thrill of excitement and deep inner flush. Gone was the resistance to his magnetic presence.

He awoke parts of her body with a want she had never known except in his arms. She found herself responding to his kiss with her own. She gripped tight to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, encouraging him. He needed nothing else.

His kisses burned into her. On her lips and her face and her neck. He nipped at her ear, sending a cascade of sensations through her body. His embrace wandered down her side, pressing her gown off her shoulders. The whole of her body shivered to his touch. A gasp escaped her under his meandering caress. His lips covered hers, coaxing her lips to open, pressing his warm kiss with an intensity matching her own.

She felt his fingers slide into her hair, murmuring words of want and desire. Kissing her deeply, his fingers pushed the edge of her gown back from her body.  The fabric slid down her arms. He cared not for the resistance of the material, only to free her from the garments that kept her from his touch. She felt cool air on her exposed skin, her breasts. His caress became bolder. Her body reveled in his embrace with an urgency to discover what he offered.

The silence in the carriage filled with her gasps and sighs. He feathered kisses down her neck. The heat of his breath told of his intent. She arched toward him, wanting nothing more than to quench the ache growing inside of her. She tried to put her reeling thoughts in order, but his head lowered, causing tantalizing sensations. His mouth teased at her breast, moving to the tip. Pleasure descended throughout her when his mouth clamped on her breast. Crazed with desire, a sigh of pleasure escaped her. His hand slid up to titillate the other breast. Suckling her breast obliterated all her other senses. The whole of her body quaked. She became wanton as a rush of pleasure washed through her. She wanted more.

No, she could not leave because she did not want to.

All caution was forgotten. Under no illusion, he had stripped her vulnerable emotions bare. She had hidden them for so long and in a moment he easily taken hold of a passion she hadn't known existed within her. She returned his ardor with a maddening fervor. A warm throb teased her and her body silently begged him to relieve the pulse.

Without warning, he released her. He looked at her. His hand still rested on her breast, moving only to play lightly with the medallion.

"We need to halt or I will take you here in the carriage."

He eased back. Confused, as the pleasure dimmed with his departure, her trembling hands pulled her gown up to cover her nakedness. Julian reached behind him and rapped the ceiling twice. Beneath her she felt the wheels begin to move. She hadn’t even noticed they had stopped. Slowly realization of her actions began to suffuse through her. She turned her head. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Oh, whatever was she going to do?

Suddenly he reached over to her and caressed her cheek. "Trust me, Alyce."

“Where am I to go?” Her small voice echoed in the carriage.

“Somewhere safe, Alyce,” he said. His hands stroked her hair, her tear-streaked face, her quivering mouth. “Somewhere safe.”

It was a house Julian had never lived in. Nor had he any particular plans for it. Situated in a respectable neighborhood, the house stood as it had the last time Roland had walked out of the place. His grandfather had urged him to sell, but Julian hadn't the heart. Eight years he had maintained the house with two loyal and decent servants keeping up the residence, even when it had no occupant. Locke, the butler, had been in Julian's employment since Julian left Evermonde.

At one time, he had allowed Sebastian to set up residence within, but other than the years Sebastian had lived within the walls, only visitors had occupied the house. Until now. The thought had crossed his mind immediately upon hearing young Hythe's words. A place to hid Alyce from all eyes, at least for the time being.

Readying for the ball, Julian had sent Jamieson with a message to ready the house for a guest. Although he had offered Alyce transportation to anywhere her heart desired, he had no illusions. She had no place.

From her expression upon exiting the carriage, he realized where she thought he had brought her. He did nothing to dispel the thought. With a few simple words, he could have eased her anxiety. Simple words. He had no mistress. He released her not long after meeting Alyce. The house used for his mistresses sat empty, but never would he take her there. He wanted Alyce, yes, with a burning he had never felt for another. But not as his mistress. Yet, he said none of those words.

"Your lordship," Locke bowed to Julian upon his entrance. "The house has been prepared accordingly."

"Well done," Julian said. If Locke had been surprised to received orders to ready the house for a young lady, he was far too well trained to show it. "Locke, this is Miss Rufford. She will be staying here for a time."

"We will do our best to see to your comfort, ma'am," he said, bowing to Alyce.

"Thank you, Locke," Alyce said. She gripped tight Julian's coat around her. There had been no other option but for him to give her his coat, not after what he had done to her gown and her with only a shawl.

"I will show Miss Rufford to her room," Julian said, taking Alyce's elbow and began to ascend the stairs. "Please send someone up to see to her needs."

"Yes, my lord," Locke replied, withdrawing discreetly to the nether regions of the house.

Julian guided her upward. In a quick motion, she reached over and tentatively gripped his hand. For a moment he thought she would protest their ascent. Her eyes widened; her head turned as if hearing a noise, but there was no sound. She froze and looked up into his eyes.

"Where have you brought me?"

Alyce hadn’t a clue where she was. Julian evaded the question. She had heard of houses gentlemen held for their mistresses. When the carriage had stopped in front of the house, she thought he taken her to one of them. Now she wasn't so sure. The house seemed quite respectable. The furnishings held to a man's touch. At first she thought perhaps Julian hadn't allowed his mistress to have a say in decorating. That was until that moment on the stairs. She heard her name once more, but not in warning...

She said nothing. Julian would think her mad. Perhaps she was being foolish, but in that moment a warming sensation swept through her, not of fear but of well-being.

Composing herself to the best of her ability, she followed him down the corridor. He opened a door to a brightly lit room. The room itself was lovely. The walls were covered in scenic flowered pastel pink shade; the furniture was of the utmost quality, carved in an unique pattern of a climbing ivy bush. The bed sat in the corner, a grand four post canopy. In front of her, a large window opened unto what seemed to be a magnificent garden. In the moonlight, flowers gleamed in the moonbeams. But it was not the room that caught her attention.

On the table by the window, a lovely bouquet of flowers sat, white delicate fragrant flowers that took her back to another place and time, Charles Town. The gardenias' fragrance encompassed the room. It was like coming home. A home in which she felt safe and loved.

"Thank you," she said in a small voice.

He walked up behind her and turned her to him in an intimate manner. "Refresh yourself. Someone will be up to help you change. I'm certain something can be found for you to wear. I will see to a semblance of dinner. You must be hungry."

He gave her no time to answer, but kissed her on her lips, leaving her little doubt of his intentions.

For a time after he departed, she stood in silence, staring at the bed. Lurid, unimaginable thoughts of lying with him tangled in the sheets flashed within her. There would be no resistance when he returned. Of that she was certain. She stopped lying to herself. She wanted him. Then she asked herself how could she become his mistress when Charles offered her respectability, position, and marriage?

Thoughts ran rapid. Marriage was out of the question, she told herself. She cared too deeply for Charles to cause his ruin of which a marriage to her would certainly cause. Moreover, she came the realization that she did not love Charles as a woman should love her husband.

Julian was a haughty, arrogant, and thoroughly irritating man. Charles had called him the Callous Earl. She didn't question the title. She had seen that side of him. Lest she not forget, she cautioned herself, he had taken her money...but he protested he did all to protect her. She realized she should be outraged and demand he take her...where?

At that moment, comprehension swept through her she didn't want to be anywhere but with him. Unexplainable. Incomprehensible. Unmistakable. Alyce was in love with the man.

Julian walked in from the connecting doorway undetected. He found her staring out the window, lost in thought. She wore a simple white nightgown with her hair flowing free down her back. He regarded her for a few moments. She had been desirable to him, but now...there were simply not words.

He stepped towards her. Turning, she looked directly at him with her expressive brown eyes reflecting in the moonlight.

"I have had a dinner sent up to my room." He nodded to the open door behind him. "Would you like to eat?"

"I'm not hungry." She turned back around to the window.

He came up behind her. Leaning down, he pushed back her hair and kissed the nape of her neck.

"I don't know, Julian, what you want from me. Is it a game to you? Will you not be happy until..."

He swung her around to him. "Can you not trust me yet, Alyce? Have I not proven myself to you?"

"Nothing makes sense, Julian." Her eyes widened, pressing her lips tightly together. Emotions welled within her. "I want to believe you. Truly, I do. This house. This room. The flowers. All makes me feel like I haven't felt in a long time, but I don't know if I can trust myself, not with you...so close."

He understood her meaning. He stood before her, prepared for bed in his night robe. No words had been spoken of his intent, only his unspoken actions.

"This house was my..."

"Brother's," she finished for him in a seemingly hopeful manner.

"Yes. It was Roland's." He watched a slight smile light her eyes. The thought pleased her; in turn himself, admitting that the house held a warmth that he, too, hadn't experienced in a long while.

"This was his home. I couldn't part with it...after," he said in a low voice. "It seemed the logical choice. A place no one would look for you. To be safe. Alyce, I want you to understand all my actions. And your inheritance. Yes, I claimed your inheritance, but with only one purpose. To keep it from your family and keep you safe. Never have I had any intention of keeping it from you. It is of little matter afterwards."

"Afterwards?"

"After I ravished you in the carriage," he said, narrowing his gaze on her. Her cheeks flushed. "After we continue what was begun."

He framed her face with his hands, running his hands through the warm silk of her hair. He leaned down and feathered kisses on her lips, cheeks, eyelids.

"This is what you want?" she whispered. She tipped back her head and gazed into his eyes.

"Alyce, I have wanted you from the first moment I saw you," he said. He reached down and touched the medallion. “If you trust nothing else, trust I would never dishonor my brother and the promise this medallion holds."

She leaned forward, pressing her body against him. "I know only that at this moment I want to be in your arms."

There was little doubt she meant it.

“Then come to bed, Alyce. Let me love you and show you that you are mine," he said, his mouth against hers.

Julian offered her his hand. She grasped it tightly, walking tentatively with him to the side of the bed. Trembling with anticipation of the unknown, an unexplained ache emerged along her inner thighs and up into her belly. Her breasts grew heavy and full with a strange tingling.

In a startling, dizzying move, he swung her around into his arms. His expression softened as his dark eyes burned into hers. He reached up to the top of her gown and released the top pearl button at her breast. The gown and its lace parted, exposing the tantalizing fullness of her breasts to his sight.

She came to him with an eagerness that astounded her. Their connected gazes held her spellbound with the acknowledgement that she accepted what he was offering. She wanted to be with him and nothing mattered but that want...that need for him. Shuddering when he finished with the last button, the gown gaped open, exposing her to his view.

He lowered his head and spoke against her mouth. "Tonight is for exploring each other. You and me. Touching. Kissing each other. Merging together in a way to express our cravings. You do have cravings?"

"Yes, Julian. For you."

She opened her mouth beneath his and he savored the sweet nectar of her lips, blending together with impatience caught in a wave of desire. His hands stripped her of the barrier that kept her body from his. A breathless moan slipped from her as the gown fell upon the floor. His relentless kisses coaxed her passion to meet his.

Julian laid her down on the bed, naked to his sight. Never taking his eyes from her, he untied the sash of his robe. She was immediately aware of his lean, muscular body. In the dimly lit room, he stood at the edge of the bed with his own nakedness, leaving her without doubt of his desire.

She had never seen a naked man. She resisted the urge to turn her head and did not look away. Instead she drank in the sight before her. The most striking man…powerful, vital, and wanting. Her heart pounded with a flurry when he lay down beside her. The shock was abrupt with the manly feel of his muscular body pressing to hers.

He propped on one straight arm and looked down at her. His gaze shadowed an intimacy as his hand cupped the heaving roundness of her breast. Quivers spiraled through her body, taunting a wanton need. Never had she ever felt so alive. His gentle embrace awakened a hungering lust of unrestrained passion. Alyce clung to him, yielding to his desires.

His hands, his mouth were everywhere. His boldness shocked her while tremors palpitated throughout her lower body. He knew where to kiss, to nip, to suck. She gave no notice to anything but his touch. She cared only for the world that existed upon this bed, here and now. Her body responded in ways she had no knowledge, seeking a release to the sweet torture he teased her with unmercifully.

His mouth teased her, suckling her breast. She gasped with pleasure, inundated by his tongue flicking her nipple. He circled her other breast with his fingertips. She could hardly bear the sensation.

"You like that?"

"Oh, yes, Julian," she managed to reply. Her body reeled under his caress. This pleasure he had given to her before, but this was not a tease to a delight unknown. No, he had no intention of relenting in his pursuit.

His hand caressed down her bare legs. He parted them until his warm fingers slipped into her pulsing ache of her entrance, spreading apart the secret fold. The swells and cleft of her bottom trembled with his touch. Her hips rocked to relieve a hunger for an unknown release. She succumbed to an abandonment of astonishing delights. In delirium, she arched her body to him.

He left her breathless with sinful cravings. He stroked her in the most intimate of places...slick, wet, moist. His fingers played in a rhythmic thrust, sending wave after wave of blissful sensations. Her body shocked her as pleasure cascaded through her body. Cries of passion she could not contain erupted out of her as glowing waves of pleasure spread like wildfire. His hands moved over her in possessive, merciless strokes in ways she couldn’t possibly imagine.

His strokes became rhythmic. Need pulsed through her until she gave in to him and the pleasure spreading through her. He possessed her with his want.

"Julian." Her hands pressed against his chest. "Julian."

Understanding her need, he moved on top of her. His mouth came up to her again. "Part your legs more, my love. Trust me."

She did. She knew only an impatience building within her, torturing her. Her thighs flanked his hips. Clutching tight to his shoulders, she felt a sudden hardness against her throbbing entrance. He pressed through, invading her body. Dazed at the invasion, she let out a muffled cry. He paused until she started feeling again.

She was unaware of the precise moment he began to move, but the dull pain had passed. She looked up. A faint smile curved his mouth.

"Come with me, Alyce. Let me take you to the final pleasure."

He moved within her, deep within her. Rising over her, he withdrew to the brink of her and thrust again. Each thrust, forceful and hard, brought her to a new plateau of pleasure. She soared higher and higher. She met his consuming passion with a raging fire of her own. She abandoned herself in the euphoria flowing through her.

Her body took hold of her and moved to his rhythmic possession. She was lost in his essence, accepting, if only for the moment, the passion for the man who held her in his arms. She moaned as the ripples of sensations cascaded through her. There was nothing gentle in his movements, only total possession of her body and soul. He thrust deep into her hard, his strong hands moving with her hips.

Then her body exploded, overwhelming and shattering her senses. She felt him release. The next instant every nerve in her body contracted with shameful delight, washing over her again and again. The screams within her were contained only because his lips came down hard upon hers in a kiss. He murmured words she didn’t comprehend, caught up in the moment. She clung to him as his lips broke from her.

Then he moved no more. He looked down at her, breathing deeply. His lips returned to possess hers. Lips and bodies merged in a passion that surged through to the depth of her soul. Gradually, she drifted down from the plane she had ascended. Her Lord Julian separated from her and rolled back onto the bed.

He pulled her into his arms and she nestled against him, grasping for the love he offered. Never had she ever felt so alive, so real. Forgetting the world outside the doors, she held to him. Tomorrow was tomorrow.

This night she would have always to remember. If she had nothing else in her life, she would have this, believing, if only for a moment, all was right. That she belonged in his arms and there was no world outside of these walls. That for one night she was loved.

Alyce lay still in her lover’s arms, pondering the night’s events. Oh, how ever would she recover from this night! She had no answer, but she swore to herself she would never regret giving herself to him. She loved him. If she grasped hold of that love if only for a few brief hours, she was under no illusions.

“It's best perhaps if I leave,” Julian murmured, speaking into her ear.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she whispered, shocked that the words escaped from her. Scared of the darkness once more, of the voices. She had not slept alone in a room since the night of the attack. Perhaps, instead, it was that reality would find her once he disappeared. No matter. She did not want him to leave. She went very still.

“Most would prefer I bow out in the darkness."

"Most mistresses, my lord," she said. Suddenly humiliation swept through her, for with her action that was surely what she had become...his mistress. Her emotions pummeled. "You are correct. I am not sure how one is supposed to act after... Go. It is best."

There was a pause, as if he had to think over his words. He touched her shoulder, turning her to him. "My mistress...no, my love. My lover, yes."

He embraced her gently and kissed her cheek. "I won't leave you if you want me to stay."

"It's only...I haven't slept in a room by myself since the attack...I will be fine," she stuttered over her words. She was anything but fine. To her horror, tears welled in her eyes.

"Ssh, my darling. I thought only of the servants, but you're correct. It matters not. I need only to get the special license."

Startled at his words, unbelieving she heard correctly, she repeated, "Special license?"

"It may take me a day or two. I will have to precede with caution at the moment, but yes, Alyce, special license."

"We can't...," she paused, grasping for the right words. Her hands pressed against his bare chest and lowered her eyes from his gaze. Emotions filled her. "I...you know that we can't...marry. You don't...you do understand the ramifications of marrying me and Charles...oh...everything is ruined."

“Forgive me if I failed to believe all of what either of you have proclaimed. I don’t know what the two of you had planned, but it ended this night. Have I not proved to you it is me that you want?”

“You don’t understand…you have messed everything up. I wasn’t supposed to allow this…I have betrayed Charles…,” her voice faltered.

“No, Alyce, you haven’t betrayed Charles,” he growled. “You love me. Deny it if you can. Look at me, Alyce. Tell me. Don’t turn from me, Alyce. No, I don’t understand your connection fully with Lord Tregilgas. But I know you aren't in love with him.

"I do know that His Grace had no intention of ever allowing you to marry his son. I tried to tell you…,” he hesitated, deciding not to dredge back up the past. His eyes softened on her. He caressed her hair back from her face. “It matters only I don’t care.”

She gripped his hand and held it against her cheek. “Do you not know I realized His Grace wouldn’t relent? It is Charles I worry about. I will not hurt him, Julian. I can’t. You don’t know what it was like those years alone. I don’t know what I would have done without Charles.”

"If he cares for you, he will want you happy. You are happy in my arms?"

She could find no words. All had gotten so complicated. How easy it would be to say the words he wanted to hear, that she loved him without measure. She didn’t know where or when it happened, but her arrogant lover was correct. She loved him, longed for him.

“Tell me, Alyce.”

A hush encompassed the room. She looked up at him. His eyes met hers, tenderly luring her. He didn’t break his gaze. “Marry me, Alyce.”

Of all the words for him to say this night, the thought of those words being uttered from his lips were not one. It was an impossibility. A protest lay on her lips, but his finger halted her lips from opening.

“Before you answer, know only it matters that I love you, Alyce Hythe. I love you. Nothing else matters. Nothing. Do not think of anything else except if you love me. Tell me now you love me. Accept that something good can come from all this madness. Say you will marry me. Say you love me.”

For quite a long while, time seemed to have slowed. Then she whispered, “Yes, Julian. I love you.”

She twined her arms around Julian’s neck, pulling him to her. His kiss deepened as he lowered his body over hers. She slid her fingers into his long loose hair, making a soft sound of surrender.

Chapter Twelve

Once Julian left her bed, her new-found confidence faded. How easy it was to believe all while in his arms. He seemed so sure, so convinced that all would be as he dictated. She wanted nothing more than to believe him, but doubts gnawed within her.

She lay in bed until the morning light. Then she got out of bed, forgetting she had no clothes to ready for the day. No sooner than the thought crossed her mind, a servant entered.

“I'm Molly. I'm to be your maid. Give me but a moment, mistress,” she said. “Your trunks have only just arrived. I have a bath awaiting you. His lordship sent word he awaits you in the breakfast room once you have prepared for the day.”

Amazed how easy Julian made it upon her, she allowed the girl to help prepare her for the day. Her heart swelled with happiness she had never known, complete and utter happiness. She admitted to herself as she studied her happy reflection in the mirror she was completely smitten with her lord.

She wished only she could have seen the look upon Lady Breck’s face when she received Julian’s note demanding her belongings. From the quick look within the trunks, he had demanded all. Why the thought made her ridiculously happy she wasn’t certain.

Light steps she took down the stairs, following Molly to the breakfast room. For the first time, she let herself believe that she was going to emerge from the nightmare she had lived since her father died. The moment she set foot in the breakfast room, her eyes lit upon Julian’s face. He grinned.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, my lord.” Alyce looked at him. He looked invigorated. His eyes gleamed at her, reflecting the feelings she carried within her.

He stood and held the chair for her. His hand rested on her shoulder for a moment as he seated her.  “Miss Rufford, how was your night?”

Alyce glanced upward at his eyes. Her face warmed as his eyes beamed at her, teasing her. She had never seen this side of her lordship, playful with a mischievous grin.

“Surprisingly well,” she answered with a sudden shyness. She paused. For the life of her, she didn’t know the proper etiquette one used after one sleeps with another. Surely even though Julian entered back through his room, the servants knew.

“You will find that I have sent a note to Grandfather informing him of our intentions.” Julian sat back in his chair to her side. “I told him we will journey to Evermonde as soon as I obtain the license. I hope you will find it acceptable to exchange our vows at the chapel at Evermonde. I see no point of anyone other than Grandfather at the service from my family. I have only annoying cousins.”

“All is set? So quickly?”

“All will be taken care of by the end of the week. And you don’t have to be concerned with meeting the rest of my family, at least for a time.”

“I think I would like to meet your family. It must be nice to be part of a family and a home…”

“You have a home, Alyce, with me.”

She gazed over at him, unable to say the words it meant to her. A home.  She smiled, trying to suppress the overwhelming emotion encompassing her. Then a thought flashed through her mind. “Oh, Colonel Tolworthy! Whatever is he going to say?”

A large grin emerged on Julian’s face. “That he has one less worry upon his mind. There will be no objections, if that’s what  concerns you.”

“No. Not quite. It’s just I don’t believe I have ever been a favorite of his. I was under the assumption that I was an unwelcome obligation to him because of Lieutenant Casvelyn.”

“A necessity, perhaps. Strange in itself, for I would never have believed that Grandfather would have become your guardian. I thought you had been claimed by your relatives across the ocean in the Carolinas. I never dreamed you were still on English soil.”

“I wondered the same. Father told me Mother was disinherited when she married him. Her family disapproved. So Mother ran off with Father. I don’t know the whole of the story but I don’t think her family ever forgave her, except her sister. I do remember my aunt. She would come and visit occasionally, but it was the reason why I didn’t have much contact with anyone other than my aunt. I don’t think I even know of any other relative.”

“But given the circumstances and their stance on the rebel side, I would have thought your Aunt Lillian would have taken you in.”

“In that, I have no answers…,” Alyce halted the conversation. Placing her fork down to the side of her plate, she stared up at Julian. “How do you know of Aunt Lillian? I barely remember her.”

He leaned back in his chair, intertwining his hands together. “After being shocked at your discovery, I looked extensively into your background, Alyce. You would have to expect such. Would you not?”

“I suppose, but who would have known…”

“It is of little matter now. Is it? And,” his smile widened on his words, “I don’t want you to worry about anything else. Just me. I believe I can occupy your time until we leave. Unless you have a desire to go out?”

“No, I have no desire to go anywhere.” She paused. She had almost said she had no desire to be anywhere except with him. Glancing over Julian’s shoulder, afraid one of the servants might hear, she had to caution herself in her answer. Refinement had been one of the issues that Lady Breck felt she lacked. She wondered briefly if Julian knew what he was getting himself into. “Julian, you have quite taken my breath away.”

“It is time that someone took care of you, Alyce. I will handle everything. Everything.”

He took her hand in his and kissed it. Her heart fluttered. Never in her life had she felt such exhilaration.

“I have only one concern, my lord,” she said, with her gaze fixed upon him. “I need only to talk with Charles.”

His dark eyes cooled to Alyce. His expression grew severe. “Do you deliberately try to provoke me, my love?”

She flushed. She had not realized the subject was taboo.

“In the rapture of our bliss you want to go see Lord Tregilgas?”  He did not sound angry, just indomitable in his desire to keep her from her friend.

“I thought you understood. Last night you said he would want me happy. Charles is a friend. I need to explain…”

“First explain to me the need to console your former beau.”

She glared at him. His aura might be thrilling, but it could also be vexing. He did not understand her connection to Charles. It was one that she couldn’t explain, at least not fully. She did not care for his scolding tone.

“It may well be that you look at him as a rival, but in truth, my lord, as you yourself informed me, Charles wants me to be happy. It may be that you do not understand my upbringing. I had few friends. Only Lissa and Charles. No, you do not understand our relationship fully, but I ask you to trust me as I trust you. Charles is a dear…dear friend. He has done much for me and I will not turn my back upon him now.”

He paused briefly before he stood. Reaching down, he pulled her upward and stared into her eyes. She met his intensity with her own.

“I am trying to deal with you fairly, Alyce. You might not understand fully the situation. Your friend made it clear to me he planned to marry you. I, in turn, made clear to you that you loved me and would marry me. You do understand I will not have you retreat…”

She placed her finger upon his lips. A mischievous smile emerged on her lips.  “I do believe you are jealous, my lord,” she whispered. “You have no rival for my affection.”

He pulled her into his arms and silenced her with a punishing kiss. For a moment she was dazed. Then she was lost in his possession. She felt his dominance and accepted it willingly. His kisses became bolder and his caresses more intimate.

“The servants,” she murmured under her breath. She wondered what the man had done to her sensibilities. First in the carriage. Now in the breakfast room…

She saw in his eyes his reluctance, but he eased his hold, but not his grip on Alyce. “A compromise of sorts, perhaps. I will invite him to dine with us tomorrow evening.”

“That would be wonderful,” she exclaimed. “He will see how happy I am and will not care a whit about my family or his. He will be relieved, I’m sure.”

Julian silenced her once more with a kiss. “Now you owe me, my dear.”

Alyce reached up and kissed him once more.

“Oh, it will be a tad more than a kiss, but I’ll wait to claim it tonight.”

* * * *

Happiness inundated Alyce sitting within the drawing room. Julian had left quite early after breakfast. He had much to accomplish before they left in a couple of days.

“I would not want you bored while I’m gone. I can only imagine how confining it will be to stay enclosed in the house for the next few days. I hope that you understand the necessity of such, my darling.  I bought a few things to occupy your time until I return this evening.”

She had been thrilled to see drawing pads, pencils, and paints. For the first time in years, she felt the urge to create once more. He had done that for her. She could not believe that she had only been within Julian’s care two days. Two days and her world had transformed.

It was a short reprieve from the harsh reality that faced her outside these walls, but Julian offered her sanctuary. She wondered if she was a coward to have accepted so easily. She had succumbed completely in the pleasure Julian gave to her. He transformed her from an innocent young maiden into a vibrant woman with desires. And she had desires.

Unconscious of a smile emerging on her face, she sat sketching. Memories of the night previous flashed through her mind...Julian’s hard strength thrusting harder, deeper, faster within her; the trembles of fulfillment, rocking in a slow rhythm, until an all-encompassing ecstasy flooded her.

Caught within the memory, she looked up, startled to find Charles standing in the doorway. She barely uttered his name before he shut the door. She rose to greet him, but hesitated. His immaculate appearance seemed out of sorts. Subtle perhaps, but Alyce noticed it. He looked tired. His cravat sat slightly to the side, his jacket wrinkled as if he had worn it yesterday, and he had a shadow upon his face. He hadn’t shaved. She looked twice. She had never seen him so. Charles did not move for a long count. Then he sighed deeply and abruptly walked over to the open window. Shocked, Alyce did not know what to say.

She walked pensively over to his side. “Charles, you should not be so upon yourself. I’m fine. Julian saved me…”

“Saved you?” Charles turned to her. His jaw twitched. His eyes burned. “What the hell have you done, Alyce?”

A great deal of shock flexed through her. “I thought you knew. I sent you a note. I was under the impression you were coming over for dinner with us this evening.”

“Dinner with us? What game have you fell for, Alyce? Tell me the truth. Have you ruined our plans, Alyce? Have you agreed to marry him? I have no doubt he hasn’t married you yet, but did he bait you with the promise? Were you foolish enough to fall for his words? Have you slept with him, Alyce?”

She slapped him without hesitation. Never as long as she had known him had he talked to her in this manner. “What is wrong with you, Charles? Do you understand what could have happened when you left the ball? If not for Julian…”

Something between a smile and a sneer formed while he held the side of his face with his hand. “You believed him. Have you lost all your wits? Do you know the scandal you caused in your departure?”

“No, Charles, I don’t know. I left. Instead of being renounced in front of all, I ran. Don’t even begin to tell me it was not to happen. I saw my uncle. My cousin. I saw the helpless look on Lissa’s face. I had no defense. How could I deny my name? I do not blame you. I never would. I don’t understand why you are so angry.”

He threw up his hands in exasperation. “Angry? Why would I be angry?” Suddenly, he grabbed her arm, tightening its grip to the point it hurt. “You were supposed to marry me, Alyce. Me. We had agreed. Now you have ruined everything! I told you I would never accept a bastard child as mine.”

She tried again to slap him, but he held her arm. The implication of his words had not been missed. How dare he doubt Julian’s love for her! His promise to her! She pushed back against Charles and looked at him almost fearfully.

“I would never betray you, Charles, but your father was never going to allow us to marry. He used me as your shield. You must realize that. You have what is needed. If a scandal emerges with our names whispered, Julian understands. He doesn’t know why, but he knows we look upon each other as siblings would. He hasn’t questioned me about it and I would never tell. It is the reason I wanted you to come tonight. Julian gave that to me. So you could see I was happy. So I could see you were all right.”

He exhaled deeply, the way a man does when he is trying to control a strong emotion. He hardened perceptibly. “Do you have any idea? Did you not once think you should talk with me before you made all these decisions? Who has stood by you all these years? I was prepared to make you a duchess. Instead…you deserted me.”

Alyce’s face fell in shock. “Deserted you? I would never, Charles. Listen. Listen to me, Charles. You are set. Did I not give you cover? Did you need more? I wanted only to be happy, too. Julian makes me happy, but I would never have accepted him if you were in a predicament. I couldn’t. We have been through too much together.”

She grasped at her words. Guilt ensnared her, looking upon his face. She had never seen desolation more profound, as if his being shattered. A dark mood descended upon him. Worry and misery showed in his eyes. She had seen that look before in Charles and it scared her.

He pressed his lips together tightly and shook his head. “It is of no matter anymore. You are right. I had no right to expect more.”

He said nothing else, but strode toward the door. He slipped through it without looking back at her.

How long Alyce stood staring at the closed door she didn’t know. The façade she had built around her eroded. Something was terribly wrong with Charles. Something had been wrong for a while. In all that time, Charles had tried to help her. She had ignored the signs she had seen, trying to desperately hold to the threads of her life, but those threads were unraveling quickly.

She couldn’t leave it like it was, not with Charles looking so desolate. She hadn’t seen him look this bad since the day she found him walking on the cliffs. The day he told her his secret. Now, he thought she deserted him. Never!

Chapter Thirteen

Upon exiting the carriage, Alyce sensed something was amiss even before she entered the house. Eyes inspected her the moment she ascended the steps up to the entrance. Immediately, the door opened wide for her to gain entry. She hesitated only a moment. Foreboding encompassed her before the butler gestured for her to follow him.

“You can wait within,” the butler said without a sign of emotion.

Uneasiness overwhelmed her while she waited with impatience. She had left without a word for Julian. Aware that she would elicit Julian’s temper for having taken his carriage, she had no excuse. She doubted he would understand her desire to see Charles. But she had to see her friend; too much experience within her life had her anxious about his actions.

To her chagrin, the grandfather clock chimed again. Two hours! The servant who saw her within had not returned. Now she waited with bated anticipation. Charles would never leave her unattended for this long, no matter how angry he was. She concluded he must not be at home. But where would he be?

She forced the panic down that threatened to paralyze her. Only months before her path seemed clear. Her one intention was to clear her father’s name. When had everything become so complicated?

A quarter hour later the door opened. Her heart fell upon the sight of Leopold. Walking closer to her, she realized he carried worry in his strained eyes. His gaze lowered to the floor before he looked back up at her. Alyce rose to meet him.

“Where is Charles? He came to me and was quite upset. I have angered him. He never gets angry with me, Leopold. I’m worried. He seemed so…so distressed.”

Alyce’s full attention held to Leopold. If she had any doubt within her, it was forgotten, for his look erased all uncertainty. For the first time she noticed his hands held an open letter.

“He is not here, Alyce. I don’t know where he is. I have only myself returned.” He swallowed hard. “To find this…”

She reached across and slowly took the letter. He let go of it; it  almost fell into her open hand. Terrified to read the words, yet frightened beyond measure not to, her eyes focused upon the writing, taking a moment for the understanding of the words to be comprehended . For what seemed an eternity she held the paper with her eyes frozen upon the imprinted words.

She looked up. “This is what Charles has been afraid of? Blackmail? This is what he has been keeping from me?”

Leopold nodded faintly with a slight shrug. “I told him he needed to tell you. I believe he hoped he could handle all without anyone else’s involvement, Alyce. I begged him to relieve the burden of holding the truth from you. I knew you would understand. He is trying…he has no one…there have been other letters. He has tried in vain to handle all on his own. The whole is going to explode into scandal. I’m so afraid of what that will do to him, Alyce.”

Oh, how well she knew what he felt. It was the bond they shared. She shook her head. “This will not happen. I won’t let it, Leopold, but I will need your help. Do not show this to Charles. Do not let him know of its existence.”

“But what are we going to do?”

“I will go and meet with this man. I will tell him that no money will be exchanged. It will not be needed, for no one will believe his words when I am done.”

Leopold swallowed hard, pressing his lips together. She could see well the water welling in his eyes. “I can’t let you. He will never forgive me if…”

Alyce took his hands in hers and gave him a small smile. “Leopold, he has no one except for us to protect him. We both love him. Let me help him, as he has tried to help me. Trust me. I… I …” She took a deep breath in. “I have to try. I know no other as good a man as Charles. It is my choice.”

“It is too dangerous. Someone has already tried to kill you. You aren’t supposed to leave the house. I promised Charles I would not let you out of my sight.”

“Then keep your word. Come with me.”

Alyce shuddered when she entered into the Wandering Swordsman Coffeehouse.  She shook off the rain as much as possible before she continued within the small establishment. She had not counted upon a torrential downpour which had ensued the moment she had exited the carriage, a good ten minutes’ walk from her destination.

She wanted nothing more than to shed the drenched cloak, but she had no desire to call attention to herself any more than possible. Leopold had helped her with a semblance of a disguise: a borrowed wig of Lissa’s to hide her looks. Her fingers clung to her hood while she glanced quickly around the room. Any confidence she had displayed to Leopold vanished upon her entrance. The coffeehouse was filled with men smoking and drinking. She took a deep breath in.

Fighting back the fear growing inside of her, she looked over at Leopold. She couldn’t go back now. She had convinced Leopold of the logic of this action. She couldn’t desert him now.

Leopold left her side briefly and talked to the proprietor. Turning back to her, he nodded to the far corner in the back of the room.

Immediately, she became aware of a presence. A man sat at the back booth where the note had dictated Charles to meet this man, this Hallow Eyes as he had called himself. Gone was her fear, replaced with an intense hatred toward a man who tried to make his living on the suffering of another. She knew it was he. A short man, he had a scruffy beard and an old worn coat. Looking at Alyce, he realized that it was not Charles he was meeting.

He scooted upward as if he was going to leave, but Leopold blocked his escape. Alyce slid down into the booth opposite him while Leopold sat next to the man.

His eyes glanced wildly around him, looking at Leopold, back at her, and then out into the crowd within the room. He started muttering as if to himself. “It was supposed to be the marquess. Where is the marquess? It will not be good. No. Not good. You need to leave…shouldn’t have brought a lady…no…not a lady…leave…you need to leave.”

He looked directly at Alyce in the most frightening of manners. His eyes widened. She could read into them. He was afraid, deathly afraid. She looked over at Leopold, confused as to why the blackmailer would be so fearful.

“Talk quickly,” she demanded. Leaning over so he could hear her words, for she had no patience for his display, she said curtly, “If you thought for one moment his lordship would have ever stepped foot into this place to defend himself of these false accusations, you were sadly mistaken. I came only to inform you that you have made a grave mistake.”

“No, no, no,” he cried. “I was only to deliver a message to the marquess. He said to make it clear if the marquess didn’t follow the directions all would know…he said…"

“You listen clearly to me,” Alyce uttered under her breath. “They are lies. All lies. It will not bode well for even a hint of accusation to emerge. Any attached to these false rumors will be held accountable. Do you not know who the marquess’s father is?”

“No! It is the marquess who should fear his father discovering his secret! It is what he said…”

Alyce sat back. Slowly she began to realize this man was only a messenger. Exchanging a knowing look with Leopold, he nodded in understanding. Her chest heaved while she glanced around again. It was someone else within this room. There was danger surrounding them.

Immediately, she slapped down her hand hard against the wooden table. She said loudly for all to hear, “I told you. You are mistaken. If any lies are repeated, it will be prosecuted. Do not think I bluff, for you see I know they hold no truth. He is my love! He has been protecting me from the eyes of the world for reasons that will become well-apparent if pressed. I will not allow him to protect me any longer because of my father’s name. I will not have you harm Charles’s good name, for mine is Hythe…”

Suddenly, she stopped, for the man brought his hand out from under the table. Trembling though he may have been, he blared a pistol in front of her. She froze. In the next moment she felt a strong hand grab her arm, pulling her downward. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Leopold lunge at the assailant. A boom exploded and she heard a cry, a mournful, terrible cry.

Her eyes widened in disbelief at the chaos around her. She heard someone call to her, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Leopold’s body falling down beside her. He clutched his side and blood poured through his fingers, bleeding profusely over the floor. Alyce screamed, a loud piercing scream, reaching desperately for Leopold, but she was pulled back.

“Get her out of here, now!” a voice echoed within the room. Loud clattering and yelling overcame the room, but all she could see was a puddle of red liquid surrounding Leopold.

“No, no,” she recoiled, but hands cupped her face.

“Dear God! Alyce, it is Julian.”

“Julian, I…Leopold…” She stuttered, unable to make any sense of the happenings around her, but she felt his arms round her. Then, in a quick movement, she was in his arms. He was taking her out of this place...out of this madness. Water blurred her vision; turning into Julian’s shoulder, she saw a man staring at her.

She blinked. She recognized the face: older, weathered in his appearance, the years had been hard on him - but it was he. Fennimore!

The next few hours were as if a haze surrounded Alyce. Julian had literally thrown her into a carriage, threatening her if she even had a thought of leaving. Then, he helped Leopold within the carriage along with his friend. To her amazement, Leopold was aware, but weakening. His hand still clutched his side. She took him into her arms while Julian fell into the other side.

She heard him exchange frantic words with his friend, but was not conscious of the meaning. The whole of her attention lay with Leopold. She held him gently; she talked soothingly to calm him. On her life, she could not remember what she uttered. Her thoughts only lay with his survival.

The moment the carriage stopped, Julian leapt out once more, helping Leopold. She paid no attention to the house until they entered. Julian had brought him to their place. Entering through the back entrance, she followed in silence. She heard Julian shouting for a physician while he led Leopold into a bedroom close to the kitchen. She assumed it must be one of the servant’s, although she cared less. Her thoughts lay only for the welfare of the bleeding man.

She watched helplessly while Julian ripped off Leopold’s shirt after he laid him on the bed. Others descended into the room with water and towels. She stood unmoving, with her bloody hand over her mouth. Moans echoed around her. Grimacing, the beautiful Leopold’s eyes opened slightly. He tried desperately to smile at her.

Time held no meaning. Hope surged only when the physician appeared. Only then, Julian pulled her out of the room into the hall. In shock, her eyes couldn’t leave the door that closed behind her. Her hands trembled so badly she couldn’t contain them, even with grasping them tightly.

Julian’s hand went under her chin, pulling her face up to look into his eyes. “Look at me, Alyce. Listen…”

But his words went unsaid. Charles exploded into the hall. His wig tilted slightly; his eyes were wide with fear. His voice shook with alarm. “Where is he? Leopold?”

His voice sounded so desperate. Her protective instincts emerged, trying to keep up the pretense that was rapidly deteriorating in front of her eyes. “He saved me, Charles. He …”

Immediately, Charles swept her into his arms, clinging tightly to her. “Is he…oh, Alyce…what were you doing?”

She broke from him, taking his hands in hers. She tried desperately to find the words. “Dear Charles, it is all my fault…Leopold showed me a note delivered to him to give to you. I talked him into…we thought…I thought I would tell this man his threat was unfounded…but the man was mad…he pulled a pistol on me. I don’t know what happened…it was so quick; someone pulled me down, but I saw Leopold lunge in front of me…then there was blood. So much blood...” Then she lost control and wept hysterically.

“Is he…is he…?” Charles asked in a tone which suggested he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.

“He is alive,” Julian said from behind her and stepped forward. “He was hit in the stomach, Lord Tregilgas, but the surgeon said that even though it was point blank range, the bullet only caught his side. He is hoping it is not as bad as it looks. If you want to see him, come with me.”

Panic flowed through Alyce, for she feared that Charles would quickly reveal his feelings for Leopold. She could do nothing, though, for Charles withdrew from her. She frantically reached back for him, only to be caught by Julian.

“I will handle the situation. Take control of yourself. You will do no one any good in your state. Trust me, Alyce. For once,” he added. He gestured with his hand and a servant girl quickly was by her side.

“Take Miss Rufford upstairs. See to her needs: a bath, a change of clothes, and see her to her room to rest,” he instructed. He gave her no choice. She followed in stunned silence.

* * * *

“Now you know,” Sebastian said. He slid down into the chair across from Julian, sipping the drink Julian had poured only moments before. Looking over the rim of his glass, he raised his glass a tad higher. “The thought had never crossed my mind, but, in all, with the girl it makes sense. Her loyalty, her intense bond with his lordship. She was protecting him. In her this characteristic was not a mere impulse, but a consuming fire to protect the one she loves.”

“And succeed she did.” Julian pressed his lips together tightly. His frustration lay evident in the tense lines under his eyes. “There can be no doubt her actions were a direct attempt to draw speculations off his actions. The papers will be filled with the incident.”

“From her speech she delivered before the shot rang out, it will be assumed she came because she was being blackmailed, not Lord Tregilgas. She gave to him the perfect screen to hide from all eyes. For Lord Tregilgas the results could not have been better, if his friend pulls through. From that close of range I thought he was dead. How does a man miss?”

“His hand was shaking wildly. Evidently, he was not a professional.”

“Coerced himself. When he was taken into custody, he kept crying about his family. I sent a couple of men over to this house to see if he was speaking the truth. He was in no shape to speak to this night. I have a man watching him. I don’t want something to happen to him before he is in better shape to have a talk with him.”

“It will be useless. I doubt the man knows the true identity of those who hired him. The man we are after has been a step ahead of us.”

“Do not sound so desolate, Julian. We are closing in on the culprit. He acted impulsively with this action. We will catch him. I would wager there is a connection with Lord Tregilgas using his influence down at the Home Office to look into Hythe’s death. It seems his desire to clear Miss Hythe’s father’s name has almost cost him his life.”

“You are assuming this man or conspiracy spied on Lord Tregilgas specifically to kill him?”

“It would be my thought. Set up a poor sap to take the fall. Disgrace his death also by revealing what he was being blackmailed for. Sound familiar? I believe now is the time to move. Press our suspicions. He said he would accompany us. All he has talked to me of confirms our fears. In all, one of the walls that collapsed upon Hythe.”

Julian took the letters lying on his desk and glanced over them once more, letters Sebastian had confiscated off the culprit. If found by others, they spelled certain disaster to the Marquess of Rotheward, dangerous still if not destroyed. He stared at them a moment longer, then threw them on top of the fire. He watched until they turned into ashes.

Julian raised his glass to Sebastian. “To tomorrow. Now, though, I have a conversation to hold.” He placed his glass down on the table beside him.

Julian didn’t knock. He walked in without a word. She lay upon the settee in front of the fire, sleeping with only a throw upon her. Her feet lay bare. From his view, she had changed into a nightgown.

He didn’t wake her immediately, but watched her sleep. Her hair, brushed out, hung long down her back. She seemed so peaceful, almost angelic. He sighed heavily. He hated to wake her and endure the row that would ensue. By all that was in him, he wished she had come to him!

Whatever possessed her to do what she had! With her actions she had saved her friend from a scandal he would never have lived down if he had survived, but with those same actions had condemned herself.

Her eyes fluttered. Opening them wider, she woke. She rose, wrapping the blanket around her. “Leopold?”

“Is resting. There is nothing more to do but wait, but the surgeon says that there is hope. Turns out the assailant was in no means an expert, but he would have easily killed you if Leopold hadn’t lunged at him.”

“But it was you, was it not, that pulled me down?” she asked, searching his face. “Why? Why were you there? I have thought about all while waiting. You were following me?”

He didn’t deny it. “Alyce, did you expect less? Come! People want you dead. I thought you understood that notion. Obviously the secret that is hidden is worth the lives of any in their way. Prior attempts have been made on your life for a reason and the reason hasn’t vanished. Yes, I had a man watching your activities.”

“But that man, the one with the gun, was upset with Charles. He wanted Charles dead, not me.”

“It is our belief that it is connected, Alyce. Do you understand what a conspiracy is? It is our belief that we are in the midst of one. One where someone will stop at nothing to keep the secret buried with your father.”

She nodded slightly. Her hand covered her mouth. “Then it is my fault…”

“This is not your fault, Alyce, but your actions will have consequences. In that, rest assured.”

“Charles?” she asked in a whisper, evident where her concern lay.

“No, his secret is safe. You have made sure of that. He will come out of the whole of situation in fine form. It is you that will have consequences, Alyce. You must have known.”

She turned from him. He quickly grasped hold of her shoulders, pulling her to her feet. “Are you listening, Alyce? Do you ever listen? Now all will think you were his mistress. You used your name. It is out who you are. All think you were the one being blackmailed. Tell me! Tell me how you walk away from this! With your unfortunate history and this scandal! Tell me, Alyce. What have you done to us?”

Her heart caught in her throat upon Julian’s words. She did not want to hear the words. A tide of desolation encompassed her being with his cruel and blunt declaration. She tried to pull back, but he was stronger. She cried, “Do not demean me, Julian!”

“I’m not doing anything, my dear, but being honest. This scandal will have you living your life hiding from who you are, having to live down the scorn of the local people who, by then, will know who you truly are, to live a life hiding from the unfounded hatred of your actions, no matter how valiant. A bleak existence, a lonely one without question, a life of seclusion!”

Her eyes met his with the same passionate stance. “Do not begin to tell me about being ostracized! I have lived with it. It will not be different than the life I have lived. And if my actions saved my friend, my only friend, so be it. You could never understand. Never! You have lived within a world which has protected you, not thrown you to the wolves.”

His grip eased. “It does not bother you if the world that should have been yours is closed to you?”

“A world I have never known, my lord, I would remind you. Since my father died, I have not known a life of ease. I have worked. My hands have held calluses upon them. I have not soaked in perfumed water, laid upon silk sheets. If you are telling me that the world is unjust, waste not your words. I know. I know well and have felt the sting. If I gain a satisfaction of knowing Charles is safe, then pray forgive me.”

He grimaced. Her assertions perceptibly angered him. His expression turned very stern. “So it does not bother you!”

“I did not say it didn’t bother me.” She sounded sober in her thoughts. “It is only something in which I had no choice. If you thought otherwise, then you do not know me. You asked me if I can live with my actions. And I tell you I could not live with myself if I had done nothing.”

His eyes burned her with his intensity. For a moment in time, all was quiet within the chamber except the crackling of the fire. Memory of seeing her at the inn rushed back. The same longings emerged within him. He wanted her. The truth challenged him. He needed her. Unwarranted and unexpected resentment swept through him.

He had failed her so terribly. He had promised to protect her. Every instinct in him compelled him to take her in his arms, make love to her, to touch every inch of her body. Unconsciously, he shook his head. His anger began to dissipate, replaced with a new sensation. He needed to clear his head to come to a solution to this spiraling scandal. He couldn’t do that with her in the room. He stepped back toward the door. He raised his hand as if pushing back all that encompassed him.

“Sleep. I will have you called if there is any change.”

“Julian,” she said in a soft voice, which caused him to halt his progress. “I know you are angry with me. You think my actions have wedged between us, but the wedge between us did not just appear. It has always been there and will always. If you did not know this, know I did. Before all, I knew. Denied perhaps momentarily.

“The last few days I have lived within a fantasy. Today…today brought reality clearly to be faced. I’m sorry if I’ve fallen short of your expectations, but I have only one request.”

He turned back to her and frowned, knowing there was little he could deny her.

“He was there today in the coffeehouse. I need your help in finding him.”

“Who, Alyce?” he asked, as confusion suffused through him.

“Fennimore. My father’s secretary."

Chapter Fourteen

Julian gazed out the window of his study. His eyes fixated upon Alyce in the garden, watching her as she cried into her friend's shoulder. He remained stoic while Charles comforted her. It did little to help that he understood the two waited on news of Leopold's recovery. Her expression undid him. He could not pretend that he wasn’t afraid that she might leave him for the man that sat beside her. Even knowing Charles's secret did little to diminish his fear.

A brief knock on the door behind him followed the creak of the door opening. “Saw myself in. The whole of the house seems to be in havoc.”

Julian nodded, but made no effort to turn away from the scene in front of him. He had been expecting Sebastian.

"You haven't told her, have you?" Sebastian said in casual observation, walking across the room to the window.

He would rather have ignored his friend's comment. It had come out of the blue, having absolutely nothing to do with their predicament. Their concentration should lay firmly on the problem before them, which seemed only to magnify with each passing moment. His mood blackened, not helped by lack of sleep or the little information he had uncovered at General Treadwell’s to help in their quest to unearth this conspiracy.

Sebastian didn't relent. "You need to tell her. She will understand. Her father did."

"One has little to do with the other," Julian muttered. He broke from the window and turned his attention back to his friend. "Only that I should have noticed Fennimore at the coffeehouse."

Sebastian looked at Julian. Julian looked right back and frowned.

"It's time to let go of your guilt, Julian. It wasn't your fault. It never was."

"And it is of little matter at the moment. We have concerns other than my conscience, such as finding the connection behind our assailant and the ones behind the attack.”

"Damn it, Julian. Did you think I do not know that?” Sebastian sauntered over to the decanter and poured himself a drink. Drinking down the whole of the liquid, he asked, “Did you find out any useful information on Fennimore from General Treadwell?”

Julian paused to take a deep breath. “I spent the best part of the day deciphering the implications of Fennimore resurfacing with General Treadwell. With his appearance, it gives credence that he sent the letters to Alyce. The question becomes is he friend or foe? Did he try to flush Alyce out to kill her? Or is he trying to help her clear Hythe? It bothers the hell out of me he was there in the coffeehouse and did not call attention to himself.”

Sebastian shrugged. “He could have followed Alyce, waiting for an opportunity to talk with her…”

“Or he waited to watch his plot play out.”

“Even so, does that not lend itself to some optimism?”

“Optimism? The man was supposed to be dead!”

“Optimism that answers may be forth coming. Answers long buried, Julian. We will find him. I have men diligently looking. My own men,” Sebastian took his time replying. “We have need to tread softly.”

Julian winced. He needed no reminder they walked a tight rope. “You found evidence from your talk with our little friend?”

“More from a man, Luther Kinndel. Happened to be within the coffeeshop. He recognized our assailant from a tour he took of Bethlem the day before. For the life of me, I don’t understand the attraction of touring a place to look at raving lunatics, but turns out he was correct. The assailant's name is Homer Linden, a raving lunatic. Believes he is St. Peter.”

“Explain to me how a madman managed to arrange a meeting as he had.”

“It is the question, Julian.” Sebastian poured another glass. Over the edge of his glass, he raised his left eyebrow slightly. “A better question would be who arranged his release. His paperwork does not seem to have been lost nor does any one remember visitors. The only bit of information my man obtained was one of the attendants said Linden recently began raving that God had sent an angel to help him extinguish the iniquities of the world one by one.”

“And?” Julian asked, not bothering to hide his irritation.

A sly smile crossed Sebastian’s face. “God sent him Samson, Julian. The name of his angel. Samson.”

“Samson? You believe…”

“You are the one who says there are no coincidences.”

Julian was quiet for a moment, contemplating the findings. “Where does this lead us now?”

“I thought you might ask. When my man was leaving, a trollop propositioned him. Means little I know, but listen. The whore had heard his questions. Said she knew of Samson. For a small amount, she offered up information on this Samson.”

Julian pursed his lips. He had long lost what patience he held. Sebastian said nothing as he rounded the table and sat in the high chair facing the window.

“I will not bait you longer, for you seem quite out of sorts. Samson is no angel. Poor Linden linked himself up with the devil. Samson is not a man, but a seemingly secret society of gentlemen who, up to this time, was thought to gather only to indulge in their sexual appetites.”

“You believe they have turned their attention to undermining the crown?”

“Hardly, Julian. From the brief time I had to investigate this, it is my understanding that a couple of the members themselves have royal blood in their veins.” Sebastian’s face turned deadly serious. “This is the time to tread softly, Julian. We need solid evidence or it will be the last we do. There will be no coming back from this. I believe that the one behind the attack is the one behind the conspiracy. It could be one or all. In that, we don’t know. What we know is that he is bold and will do anything to protect himself.”

“As I will do everything to bring him down.”

Sebastian nodded. “The King’s Place is where they meet.”

“We can go there tonight,” Julian said without hesitation.

“Without knowing who we are looking for?” Sebastian shook his head. Then he stared straight into his friend’s eyes. “There is one who might.”

“No,” Julian snarled. “You are not bringing her into this. She was a child. I doubt she would remember him.”

“You're the one that told me that she thinks she can identify the man in her father's study the day he died. Some things one never forgets, such as the last time you see your father,” Sebastian countered. “And another, Julian. While I was out investigating, Linden was murdered. Stabbed by an unknown assailant as he was being transported to Newgate. Doesn’t bode well for our investigation. On every turn we are met with a dead end, usually a dead man. We have a chance here, Julian, even if it is minute.”

“No,” Julian uttered angrily. “I won’t allow it!”

“I believe it would be my decision.”

Julian turned. Alyce leaned back against the closed door, still holding the handle behind her. Engrossed in their conversation, neither had noticed her entrance. She looked away from Julian and turned her attention to Sebastian.

“Tell me only what I must do.”

* * * *

It was a cool, moonless summer night. Alyce pulled her shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders. Trying desperately to keep her wits about her, she held on to the seat of the modest carriage as it swayed back and forth. Sebastian arranged for the transportation down to the King’s Place. She had to go alone. This she realized, but her nerves frayed. She could not deny she had qualms about the plan.

Not about her commitment to discover the link that had long eluded this mystery. No, her doubts lay whether she would be able to remember the face, the voice of the man she had seen the last night of her father’s life. She closed her eyes and prayed. She needed strength to do what she must.

The last few days had been disastrous from beginning to end. Then she reprimanded herself. Not all. Leopold finally was improving, slowly but to the point where Charles talked of taking him to the country to complete his recovery. Her issue was Julian.

How quickly all had changed! Julian, the man who had seduced her with his tender words of love, ranted and raged at her for the first two days after Sebastian explained his plan. Raged to the point that he left her. She had not seen him for over a day. He had not even shown himself as she prepared for the night, but for that matter he had not touched her or kissed her, since that dreadful day.

She had known, of course, how all would end. She swallowed hard upon the thought and the contemplation of the future ripped through her. Charles had warned her. She had only herself to blame, for Julian was her weakness. She had told herself the hurt was only for the moment, but, oh, how she hurt. She had never felt so alone, so totally alone, not even after her father died.

Her heart ached. Along with the constant throbbing of hurt enveloping her came the comprehension she could be no more than who she was. Julian had fooled himself into believing love could overcome all…maybe if they were two different people.

She refused to think about him anymore. She couldn’t. She had a mission in front of her. At least, Charles thought the plan had a semblance of hope. He himself had seen to her disguise. In this, she took comfort that no one would recognize her, now or in the future.

Donning a jeweled mask, all but her painted lips were covered; her hair was well-hidden under an elaborate wig which reach improbable heights, quite out of fashion. Her gown fitted tightly around her bosom with a corseted top and a low-cut neck decorated in ribbon and lace, lacing in the front. The skirt flared out.

“Of course, I have not the experience, but you look, my dear, like a common whore putting on airs of refinement. Quite missing the mark, I might add, which is exactly what you are aiming for,” Charles said, fixing the lace around her bosom. His hand went to her face. “I want you to know that I wanted to go as your protector, but this Mr. Byrne insisted you will be well protected. Said he fears some might recognize me and, in turn, you.”

“I’m not worried about being recognized. I do not even recognize myself,” Alyce responded with more confidence than she felt.

The plan seemed simple, but Alyce feared it would not be. If it had been as simple as Mr. Byrne insisted, Julian would not have flown off in a rage. Danger would surround her. She was entering into a decadent party dressed as a whore. Mr. Byrne meticulously went over all the details of his plan. He had numerous men watching over her. The cover given was of a woman searching for her sister. Easy enough. Mr. Byrne doubted many would care the reason she descended into the party, only that she was there. Danger to her life, he said, lay only if the one they searched for discovered who she was. There was little chance of that. Julian's objections ranged broader.

His words warned of other atrocities. Most Alyce had little or no understanding of, but she reasoned she had little to lose. Her innocence had already been given. Though she could not ignore his words, she buried her fear of the unknown deep within her being. The carriage slowed and her mind rambled with Julian’s warnings.

The party will be dimly lit. Within the dark corners of the salon you will see all sorts of iniquities, the sort others will want you to play along. Make no mistake of that, my dear. You will see things no lady should ever behold: coupling of complete strangers in front of all to see; the most libertine indulgences, truly wicked in nature. And these, I fear, will be nothing when finding this Samson. Men will grope at you and there will be none to hold to your honor, for there is no honor to hold to within those walls. You will be treated as you will have declared yourself…

Her stomach turned. She prayed she would not get sick. Too much depended upon her.

If she did little else in her life, she would avenge her father’s death, no matter the cost.

Her entrance gave way to no more of a fanfare than any other woman of her presumed character. The footman who opened the door did not ask her name or the reason she arrived. She supposed there was only one explanation. She willed her legs to move. Never had she been more afraid.

The dimly lit entrance opened up to numerous salons along the foyer. In the far distance she heard music, but she was met with an onslaught of bolstering voices, loud and giddy. Not only the noise, but the heat and smell assaulted her. Perfumes, cooked meats, and the sweat of men merged together as one odor.

No sooner than she walked within, a man stumbled into her. The smell of liquor overwhelmed her as she caught the screech in her throat. She side-stepped the inebriated man and pushed his arms away from her person.

Pressing down on her skirt, she took a moment to compose herself. Thankful her mask hid her cheeks, she felt her face warm with the drunken words slurred in her ear. Her eyes searched desperately in the crowded rooms for some sign of what she had come for.

No one seemed to be paying her much mind. Swallowing hard, she needed to find the courage to open her mouth. She had to ask where the society of this Samson met, but for the life of her no sound came from her lips. Instead she froze upon the sights in front of her.

Partially dressed couples lounged upon the couches, performing intimate acts in front of all. Cries of ecstasy, moans of release echoed within the room. Her eyes widened in shock watching a red-headed whore’s head down on the man’s…Suddenly her arm was wrenched back, swinging her against the wall.

Terror seized her. Panicked, she pushed against the man. She broke free of the hold. Falling backwards, she scrambled to her feet. Wild with fear, strong hands caught her. Taking hold of her shoulders, he spun her around and pushed her soundly down the corridor into a small corner.

“Out now! Do not bother us!” A resounding voice bellowed at a couple engrossed in a flimsy seduction. The voice…her heart skipped a beat. She knew the voice. Finding courage once more, she glanced up at the masked man. A sly smile formed around his lips. She fixed upon him a questionable look as the inhabitants obeyed, scooting off the settee and out of her sight.

“I believe a whore would be more welcoming to a paying companion.”

It was a shock to see Julian dressed as a common man, but it was only the clothes that were common. A mask covered his face, but he could never hide his manner of being or his command of a room.

“I did not know you had paid, my lord,” she responded in a voice lower than a whisper, for she could not catch her breath.

“Remedied quickly,” he said softly. “I assure you I have experience in dealing with a stubborn wench who refuses to listen to reason.” And his mouth covered hers.

Hard and wet and deep, his mouth opened against hers roughly, punishing her. Yet she welcomed him. She could have wept. He lifted his head, looking down at her and she stared up into his hard dark eyes.

“Tell me now this is a good idea. The whole of your body trembled the moment you walked in the door.”

“I have to do…this…understand…”

His expression hardened. Caught in his embrace, he shifted her to gain her full attention far away from any prying ears. “You are angry with me, I can see. But you could not expect me to accept this.”

His words echoed in her ears. She stared up in his eyes with a resurgence of her anger. “It is not yours to accept, my lord. You made it clear your feelings. That I have accepted."

She pushed back with her arms, but he was stronger. He twisted her head around so she could only look upon his face. “My feelings? That I want you safe. I want you accepted for who you are. That I want you in my arms always.”

She shook her head. “No, you said I ruined everything…The only words you have spoken to me have been harsh and threatening…you haven’t seen me…touched me….It doesn’t take much to realize I disgust you.  Now release me.”

“For you to do what, my pet? You have not uttered a word since your arrival. You missed your assigned rendezvous. I do believe that you are scared to death and that will lead to a debacle.”

She was unable to deny his words. “I need only to compose myself.”

“Listen for once and do not doubt me. I wanted nothing more than for you to be safe in my home and in my bed. But again you believe all when they say it is the only way. It is never the only way. I would never have encouraged this…ever! Do you think if the roles were reversed that Sebastian would ever let his wife walk through a door such as this?”

She could barely shake her head. His words held such intensity within it scared her. He brought her face up to his.

“But once done, I would never leave you. I am here and will protect you. Listen well. I have surmised that this secret society meets down through a passageway that few gain entrance. The ruse, though, might work, but I swear I will not leave your side. No matter what. If they try to separate us, it is done and we are gone. Do you understand?” he said with absolute steel beneath his tone.

She had no time to answer. His lips found hers once more.

Chapter Fifteen

Julian moved through the candle-lit hallway with Alyce to his side. Her eyes glittered in the candle light. She had not bothered to argue with him on his intention. For the first time in days they seemed in sync with each other’s desires. A common one they had shared from the beginning...the truth. Her manner changed the moment he was by her side. He realized this and swore to himself he would not fail her again.

He eyed the entrance with caution, hoping she had listened to his words well. How Sebastian thought this would work was beyond him. Of course, Sebastian knew him well and realized Julian would never let Alyce go in blind. But his friend would pay dearly.

Alyce sauntered up to the door in question with a new-found confidence. She looked over her shoulder and merely smiled. Then she turned and laughed as a large sturdy man halted her progress.

She laid her hands on his arm. “Come, my good man, I need only to sneak a little peek. I want only to see if my sister is within. She has bragged for the last week of the fun she has had.”

She rose on her toes to utter the last of the words. Julian watched her eyes roll on the man, touching his arm daintily, slowly. Remembering soundly the reason they were here, he walked over to the side of the ruffian.

“Just a look, my friend,” Julian spoke in a low autocratic tone, slipping money in his front pocket. With a wink of an eye, he said, “I’m sure that none will regret her entrance. She has talents…talents that would be appreciated.”

“Who might you be?” The doorman reached in his pocket and looked over his prize.

“Her brother,” Julian laughed. “She is fresh to London. Look at the girl. I’m only trying to help her establish herself as well as my other…sister.”

The doorman smirked and nodded in a knowing way while he opened the door. Julian assumed that many a whore entered with less display. Alyce passed through on a quick step. Julian walked a slower pace, ignoring the doorman’s hesitation to let him enter. Another slip in the man’s pocket allowed entrance.

The corridor opened into a large salon with a high ceiling. The floor was composed of multi-colored marble. The lamps only provided a semblance of a glow. He surveyed the room. Sturdy footmen led up to a massive cushioned chair. Julian eyed one of the footmen, who appeared to give some invisible signal, for a minute later a man appeared.

The man was disheveled, his mask half upon his face; his hair was down upon his shoulders, which would not have been an issue except he seemed to be mainly bald except for the long strands circled around his ears; his shirt hung loosely over his breeches. Julian drew in a breath upon recognizing the man. He only hoped Alyce did not allow any recognition on her face. Thomas Breck! The scoundrel! Thank the Lord he was quite smashed, tripping before finding his seat.

Alyce glanced back at him, frightened. He shook his eyes and mouthed, No, don’t say a word. For once in her life, she seemed to hold to him.

“Who do we have here?” Breck sputtered, crawling into the chair.

“Only one in search of her sister,” Julian stepped forward and smiled thinly. “I promised to help in the search. If by chance, an opportunity arises for her to display her many talents during her search…well…I could not stop her.”

Breck gestured with his hand for Alyce to enter without much of a look. Julian watched intently as she glanced back him and slid through the door. He stepped forward only to have Breck shake his head at him.

“Afraid not you.” He stumbled upward. He waved his finger in front of Julian. “Wait here. I’ll see about her talents myself and let you know.”

Julian strode up to Breck’s side before he had time to utter a protest. He took Breck’s arm, twisting it behind his back. “Listen, you sniveling little coward. Where she goes, I go.” Julian leaned into him, opening up his coat to show the pistol he held in his belt. “Or you will not see another day. In that, you can rest assured.”

The fright on Breck’s face almost made Julian laugh. He thought for a moment the man would soil himself. Julian leaned back a tad and slapped Breck on his back. He gave the man no choice. “Come. Introduce me to your friends now that we understand each other!”

Julian entered under no illusion. Their time within this private chamber would be limited at best. If Alyce recognized anyone she had better do it quickly. He held on to Breck’s arm. Within lay a riotous drunken celebration crowded with noisy revelers. They would be safe until he lost control of Breck.

Alyce waited in front of him, not moving until he was by her side. The chamber was littered with bodies of half dressed women and men alike. Some were dressed in Roman costume, or half dressed as it were.

He recognized more than a few of the revelers among the crowd, they having done little to hide their identity. Laughing. Drinking. Gaming. Others were as shadows in the pool of candlelight, fulfilling their desires on couches and chairs in full view of all around. He wanted nothing more than to get this over with as quickly as possible; the scene reaffirmed this was no place for Alyce.

“Do you see our sister?” he asked loudly to Alyce. Then, in the next breath he moved Breck to his side; he said for his ears only, “Say a word and it will be your last.”

He watched Alyce bite her bottom lip and shook her head. Nothing! Just as he thought - a waste of time. His mind raced, questioning the best place to exit without too much attention upon them. His head twisted around to get a better handle of their situation. Then his attention turned upon a loud bolstering voice.

"Woman! I…said…said to brush…through til…til…til it shined, not to pull out my…my…my hair in your attempt!”

The voice resonated from the far corner of the chamber, where a large man lay upon a settee, as if it was a throne. He, as the others, wore no wig, but his hair hung long down his shoulders. A woman dressed in little else but a chemise and stockings lay at his feet, struck down by his hand. She still held the brush in her hand. Her other hand held her face. Pulling back her hand, blood spewed forth from her nose.

Ignoring the injured woman, the apathetic man waved his hand in the air, gesturing to remove the undesired sight before him. The bevy of ladies around him scurried to calm his manner, catering to his immediate needs. He sat doing nothing but twisting a strand of hair on the back of his neck. He wore little else except what seemed to be a toga of sorts. Julian eyed the man with ready contempt.

He glanced back at Alyce and immediately he saw. She recognized the man. It was he. Her perception stunned him while a wry smile crossed her lips. He looked back at the man and studied him closer. Although he couldn’t have been much older than Julian, he was quite fat, his complexion florid, his lips the color of mud. His fingers, looking like sausages, lay covered in rings.

Julian knew him from somewhere. He had only to place where…Oh, Good Lord…he was a younger son of His Grace, Lord Sinclair: Tristan Sinclair. His mind rambled with a million thoughts, but on one it set. This man could be whom they searched. If his mind did not fail him, he served at the Board of Ordnance in some capacity. His father could well gain him entrance…Julian paused. His eyes froze upon Alyce. What the hell was she doing?

Her tremors gone, she walked with a haughtiness Julian never noticed before. Her eyes glint with…vengeance.

She knew well they only needed to know who. The plan well laid out nothing to be done this night, but she did not halt her progress toward the one he suspected. Damn! Behind him he heard shrieks of laughter, commanding both Breck and himself to join in the revelry. He paid them no mind. They were not his concern. Right now it walked soundly before him, intent upon a purpose. No attention seemed to be placed upon her as she strolled toward her destination, but Julian saw.

Smiling broadly, she sauntered over to Sinclair’s side. Her hand ran across the back of his shoulder and she whispered to him, words he could not hear.  Alyce reached back to a table behind her and pulled back shears in her hand! Immediately, he released Breck and pressed him into a pair coupling on a chair, giving him a moment, but it was too late. A screech emerged out of the fat pig and Alyce stood with a handful of hair in her hand.

Alyce noticed him almost immediately upon her entrance. Her eyes fixated upon him. Larger than she remembered in her youth and vision, but he sat twisting his hair in a familiar manner. In the far recesses of her mind, she saw clearly a younger version talking to her father. The words suddenly remembered.

Do you think so...Hythe? You think one will take your word over...mine? I have all to convince them otherwise. It is useless to try to deny!

He screamed at the woman and slapped her. But Alyce saw another scene, a scene from yesteryear. In her mind she saw it well, as if it was happening in that moment, his eyes bulging larger than his face.

He pushed back the chair beneath him and lunged at her father. Holding tight to her father’s collar, he swore at him under his breath. Not for long, for in his next breath, Lieutenant Casvelyn  had the assailant in a chokehold.

“Do not threaten me again! The letter has already been sent to your father! Have some honor!”  Lieutenant Casvelyn released his grip on the man and threw him to the floor. Alyce saw the man sprawled out on the floor. Her father yelled at the man, “Leave my home and never return. Do you understand?”

“I will leave...Hythe. But it is the worst...mistake you have ever made, although I doubt you will have time to regret it!”

Her fear, her hesitation, dissipated upon the sight of him, replaced with indignation. It was he! She held no doubt. In her view, she caught sight of shears among a table of care products behind the man. She ambled over to his side and leaned down to his ear.

“Would you like for me to handle your hair in a manner it deserves?”

The next moments held only the frustration of the years before her. She picked up shears sitting on the table beside the man and snapped them sharply. An instant later, she held a large chunk of hair in her hand. Releasing her hold on the hair, she let it fall silently upon the floor. A hand gripped her harshly and she plunged the shears into his forearm.

A screech emerged, a loud resounding scream. Then she felt a body lunge at her, forcing her to the floor. His hand grasped hers.

"Let go,” Julian commanded in a tone set for her ears only. “Let go of the shears!”

“It is he,” she stammered. “Let go of me…”

Julian scrambled up on his knees, gripping tight to her hand. He swung her around to him, facing a room full of irate people with Breck ranting around like a mad man. All seemed frozen to their spot for a brief moment in time, until a cry rang out, “Get them!”

“I believe we need to disappear,” Julian muttered. Without further hesitation, he threw a vase off a table, crashing it into a million sharp pieces on which most bare-footed inhabitants would not follow. Then he threw the table.

Alyce turned and one of the women of Samson’s harem halted her for a brief moment. “Go there,” she whispered and nodded to a side door. “Down the hall to the last door. It’s stairs that led to the street. Run quickly.”

Julian gave her no more time to talk. Reaching back for Julian's hand, she jerked him back toward the side door. They hurried. Running down the corridor, through the door, Julian almost willed her legs to a faster pace. Scrambling down the stairs, Julian blasted out the door with her in tow.

For an instant, Julian glanced around the dark alley before he pulled her behind him. Racing around the corner, he paused briefly, pressing her back against a brick wall. She waited, listening to the hammering of her heart. She heard booted footsteps racing behind them, ringing on the old stone street.

While a carriage rolled down the street, Julian yanked her down in a crouch with him. Walking in stride with him until they reached another street corner, he had her dodge into the shadows of another brightly lit establishment.

In a dark alley, he pulled her to him. “Trust me,” he said in that smooth voice of his. He reached up to her hair and undid her wig, throwing it down behind her. Her hair was braided up in a bun; he released the confined hair. His fingers combed through her unruly hair. He swung her back with his arm against him, hearing rapid footsteps. A few moments later the footsteps faded. She didn’t dare move.

“Keep your mask on,” he commanded. In his next motion he discarded his. He tucked his shirt back into his trousers in a proper manner and straightened his waistcoat. “Follow close beside me.”

She did as he dictated. In truth, he gave her no choice. He held out his arm. She clutched to it tightly, looking at him as they walked toward a side door to the establishment. A huge doorman opened the door. He bowed his head. "My lord."

Suddenly, Alyce realized that the immediate danger was gone. Julian eased down the hall in a confident, but not hurried, manner. The hall was quiet, unnaturally quiet to her mind. He walked soundly up to a door. Without knocking, he opened the door, gesturing for her to enter.

“We are no longer running?”

“We ceased running the moment we exited the alley,” he uttered in a low voice. “The area does not lean itself to hoodlums running rampant, my dear, no matter what orgies one might host. Outside of their domain I doubt seriously none would care if the deviant had all his hair cut off and may have even applauded your actions.”

His speech stunned her into silence. She turned her attention to the room they entered. A fire crackled, illuminating the two of them in a cozy glow. Behind her she heard the door close and the lock click. She didn’t turn to know his arms would wrap her in a world of protection. He did, pulling her to him. She shivered upon his touch, but she was no longer afraid. Rather, heat encompassed her, an intimacy that spread like the fire’s warmth.

For a brief second her mind wanted to ask where they were. How had he come upon this room with the ease he had?

“It is a room connected to the House of Alton’s. Whereas I’m a member, Alfred did not hesitate to accommodate my needs,” he whispered in her ear as if he read her mind. He pulled off her mask and pushed back her hair. Lowering his head, he nibbled at the sensitive part of her neck. “We will not be disturbed while he hails my carriage. I find that I need a moment to collect myself. Do you not?”

She swallowed a cry from his kisses. His hands found the laces of her bodice. Immediately, he unlaced the opening and touched her breast, tweaking her nipple.

“You know…who…the man is? The one…we seek….” she spoke in broken words.

He turned her to him. His eyes glimmered with anger and warmth. “Yes, I know who he is,” he answered. He gazed at her with a face subtly expressive. “And if you ever try anything so foolhardy again…”

He gave her no time to respond; his lips captured hers. Gone was the cool aristocrat. There was no gentleness in his touch, only demands and punishment for her behavior. He opened his mouth and she felt the astonishing contact of his tongue in her mouth. Moreover, he initiated a wild hunger within her. From the adventure or from being in his arms once more, she didn’t know but she needed him now, this minute. She threw her arms around him and clasped him tightly against her body, feeling his hard arousal aching against hers.

"Oh, God," he uttered a curse. He pushed her up against the wall and made short work of finishing exposing her breasts for his fervor. In a frenzy, his mouth sucked upon her breast and his hands pulled up her skirt. She closed her eyes and sighed in pleasure, loving the sensations.

Shivering in reaction, the tension built. His fingers found her pulse, stroking her deliberately to the point of exquisite torture. It felt so good, driving her to a crazed peak of need. She had no knowledge of when he opened his trousers, but she felt his erection press hard against her. He lifted her so her legs parted in welcome of the relief he promised.

He slid deep into her wetness, filling a need she yearned for. She wanted him and nothing else. She cried for him to take her. He thrust inside of her, hard. Sliding deep into her with a smoothness that left her breathless, she grasped him like a mad woman.

“Take me. More. Harder. Deeper. Love me…”

Sensations awoke when they joined, a hard, steady, unrelenting rhythm that had her lost in blinding ecstasy. Tremors burst within her, spreading through her body and beckoning her toward her desire. Again and again he thrust into her, his face against her neck, his hands tight on her hips. She clutched to him as if she was lost in a world of their own where only he was in control. She spiraled out of control, dependent upon his touch, his kiss, his love…

He thrust hard into her, a relentless pace that had her gasping for breath. Her body climaxed in an explosion of pure sensations with his release, shattering her body into a crescendo of pure bliss. His mouth claimed hers until the throes calmed. Afterward, she forgot where they were, for there was nothing in the world except the two of them. Finally Julian released his support of her weight. Her feet found the ground once more, but her hands clutched his arms. He embraced her to him, tenderly caressing the top of her head, whispering loving endearments. All she wanted only was for the moment never to end, for him never to let her go.

Chapter Sixteen

Julian arrived at His Grace’s door at a quarter past eight. He had no idea whether he would be granted an interview or whether the duke would try to put him off. Quite frankly, he didn’t give a damn. The duke would see him.

After he deposited Alyce back safely to her chamber, he had spent the remainder of the night with Sebastian and Charles. There, they spent hours of debating the happenings of the evening and the past, to the point where he cared only for the fact that all pointed to Tristan Sinclair. He was raging mad that Sinclair hid behind a veiled threat of pulling the princes into the conspiracy. Julian doubted seriously the princes had the capability of distinguishing what their friend had dragged their names into, holding instead that their friend held to honor. But Tristan Sinclair had no honor.

Julian ignored the excess of servants scurrying with chores of a new day. Even in the early morning hours the servants were decked out in their wigs and hose, immaculate in appearance. He did not have long to wait before one of them returned and asked for Julian to follow him. Sebastian’s words of caution were forgotten as the servant escorted him through the excessively decorated mansion, telling all the world of the duke’s allusion to royalty and the privilege such alliance allowed.

Julian walked under ceilings that ascended as if to the sky, painted to give the impressions of the heavens. He crossed through the drawing rooms until he arrived before two wide doors at the end of the passage. Two servants opened the door for his entrance. He walked into the large room with the massive windows overlooking gardens below. The chamber was but an extension of the flamboyance of the duke’s arrogance. Exquisite paintings hung high on the walls; classic sculptures littered the room. One could not question the duke’s taste in art.

“Casvelyn. I had expected you sooner.”

Julian turned abruptly. Roger Sinclair, Duke of Somersby, stood in the doorway.  In the course of society their paths had crossed many times, yet Julian could not remember one substantial conversation he had held with the man in front of him. Dressed in an extravagant coat, his cravat tied in the most fashionable of styles, his wig aligned without a hair out of place, the Duke of Somersby conveyed the formality of his manner.

“I wasn’t aware you were expecting me, Lord Sinclair. I myself only decided a short time ago.”

“I did not get into my position within His Majesty’s inner circle without being able to predict other’s behavior.”

“Then I am impressed and should be honored that you had given me such thought.”

“I did not mean to imply that I honored you, Casvelyn. I would ask for you to sit, but I do not think you will be here that long. In truth, you saved me a summons for your appearance. I will make this short and to the point. It is my understanding that your grandfather is the Hythe girl’s guardian. I have heard that she has reappeared under another name and that now she is under your protection. With all this dreadful scandal spreading rapidly, I would expect that you would use your influence and withdraw the girl away from London. Far away.”

Julian laughed loudly. “I’m afraid that your skill at deciphering other’s intentions has faltered. I am here to put you on warning. You may have scared my grandfather with insinuating that Roland may have been guilty of treason, but not me, Your Grace. Make no mistake about it. I knew my brother well.”

“Do you think so? What if all became common knowledge? Do you think that all would be so sympathetic to him then? I would have assumed that you would have been grateful that I stepped in to protect your good name.”

Lord Sinclair walked over, arrogantly taking a seat in a high-backed chair. He tilted his head in a manner challenging Julian, daring him to continue the conversation. Julian met the man’s arrogance with his own, refusing to bend.

“I beg your forgiveness in assuming that it was your interference that has made a mess of the whole of the situation. There are limits to any obstruction of justice, even from you. Two can play your game. There was an incident at the Cat and Fiddle Inn , in which your name and card was used in an attempt on Miss Hythe’s life. I dismissed the connection hastily, probably too hastily."

“Now, see here, Casvelyn. If you think I will let you impugn my good name for some foolish theory you have concocted…”

Julian’s jaw clenched tightly. He walked around the chair. The duke didn’t move. “You think I came in blindly? For what purpose? If you believe I will let the murderer of my brother walk this earth for much longer you are delusional.”

Lord Sinclair threw his hands up in exasperation. “I believe this conversation is over, Casvelyn. You can see yourself out. I believe you will find you will be greatly disappointed if you believe the murderer of your brother still lives. Hythe committed suicide. I hope you are not delusional yourself in believing that someone else killed him.”

“Damn it, you know that Hythe did not kill himself. There is only one way you could be sure of the words you have uttered from your mouth. If it was not you, it is one you are protecting. Perhaps your son, Tristan.”

“Not bad, Casvelyn. Not bad.”

Julian pivoted. Lord Harold Tregilgas stood with his hand upon the handle of the door. No one had shown him in. In all probability, he had dismissed them himself. In one quick motion, Lord Harold closed the door. Julian noticed Lord Sinclair visibly tensed upon Lord Harold’s appearance.

“Tell him, Roger. Tell him immediately.”

“Harold, are you mad? What game are you upon?”

Julian observed an outwardly calm Lord Harold. He walked in steady steps, no hurry in his manner. Only his eyes flared the intensity of which he held within him.

“It is no game I play,” Julian said bluntly. “I have enough evidence to present to give reasonable doubt that Hythe killed himself. And do not believe you can lay his death upon Roland. The evidence of guilt lies on your son. I hold questions, not for Hythe's involvement but for you, Lord Sinclair. I have only myself to blame for ignoring the cocky proclamation from the assailants at the Cat and Fiddle Inn . I took the magistrate’s explanation, for I would never have suspected that you would have been involved in such a scheme. It shows, though, how little I know.”

“It is Tristan, Casvelyn. I have had my suspicions, but have let Roger convince me otherwise, but not now,” Lord Harold offered. “I will say it one more time. Tell him. Tell him everything!”

Lord Sinclair’s face fell. “You would sully the good name of an innocent…”

Immediately, Lord Harold was upon Sinclair. Grasping hold of his collar, Lord Harold pulled him to his face. “Do not begin with that nonsense. He went after Charles, Roger. The whole of the scandal that erupted was not the girl, but it was supposed to have been Charles. Do you understand now, you fool!”

He slung his hands out, releasing his grip. Lord Sinclair fell back into his chair. His wig slipped on his head. He closed his eyes, looking old and tired. Defeated.

Lord Harold gave him a disgusted look and turned back to Julian. “Look into Tristan and his affairs. I suspect you will find all that you look for in his activities. I let this fool convince me not to follow my instincts when all occurred. He appealed to my conscience and honor. That it would do no good to dig further. Yes, I have known from the beginning that Hythe was an innocent man. I was among the few who knew of his mission.”

“Stop! In God’s name stop, Harold.” Lord Sinclair rose from his chair. “Think of the damage it will do to you.”

“Are you daring to threaten me? Threaten me, Roger? You are more a fool than I realized. I know the lengths one will go to protect a child, but you have gone well beyond the limits and have joined him in a conspiracy! When Charles came to me this morning, all fell into place, to my disgust. I will have to live with my part in all, but I will rectify all.”

Julian stood emotionless, but the revelation greatly surprised him. “Roland?”

“There was nothing ever to suggest any more than what was reported. But it was all complicated. Despite my misgivings, I let Sinclair cloud my judgment and agreed to the scheme he put in place. I told myself that the true revelations that would occur would do more damage to the government than what was given to the public. I was protecting the best interest of the king, not covering for an imbecile.”

Lord Harold sighed deeply. He gripped the arm of the chair across from Sinclair, who sat motionless. He sat and sighed again. “At first I accepted the version Sinclair declared until General Treadwell began ranting about the mission. I realized then that Hythe was a victim. You will discover that Tristan was behind the fictitious reports and the discrepancies were his. It was easy enough when you have a father who handed you the post.”

“But why? It makes no sense,” Julian questioned.

“Gambling debts. Life is not easy when you are the fourth son. His debts were mounting. I believe you will find that it will be his connection to his co-conspirator. It is why all collapsed all around Hythe. All he trusted betrayed him, except I take it your brother, which cost him his life.”

“Who else?” Julian questioned.

“We have suspected since Hythe’s death that is was his brother, Sir James Hythe, who was Tristan’s companion in crime. He, too, gambled to excess. It was the reason why we took measures to ensure that he never received any benefit from his ventures. How else do you explain that your grandfather was given the girl’s guardianship without a claim? In good conscience, I could not let her inheritance be squandered, for without a doubt she would have had nothing left.”

Lord Harold looked at Julian. “I thought I had handled it to the best of my ability. Your brother was honored as he should have been. It was only Hythe’s name. He was dead. I was the one who told your grandfather to send the girl to Lancefield. I saw to her education. I thought it would be easy enough to marry her off quietly. Only, when…it is sufficient to say I failed. But with all that has happened, all will be rectified.”

Julian turned to leave. He had accomplished most of what he set out to do. Something still nagged within him. Something was wrong. He looked back. “What of Hythe’s man, Fennimore? Why has he returned? Is he innocent also?”

Lord Harold’s expression questioned him and showed considerable worry in his eyes. “Fennimore is back? I thought him dead.” His gaze turned to Sinclair. “For God’s sake man, you told me he was dead!”

Confused, Julian asked, “Why the concern? Was he not a victim also?”

“Victim? No, he was the one behind the whole of the scheme. It was concluded it was he who shot Hythe that night.”

A cold shiver swept through Julian with the acknowledgement. “And Roland?”

“It is the thought,” Lord Harold said.

* * * *

“We simply must press forward and not let too much time elapse. Sinclair is not a fool.”

Julian sat at his desk, looking through old papers when Tregilgas stormed in. Julian stared coolly at Tregilgas. The man had set upon him once more, badgering him. Did Tregilgas not think he did not realize the danger in giving Sinclair time to cover for his son?

“If I had heard, I would have already informed you,” he said. Standing, he walked over to his brandy and poured a glass for the both of them. “I could ask you the same. I would imagine your father would be the first to be told.”

“Yes, yes, I know.” Tregilgas accepted the glass. “But you know as well as I that my father’s interest and mine at times conflict. His is to protect me.”

“And yours?”

“Conflicts with yours also, if the truth be known.” Tregilgas sat down in a chair.

Julian eyed his glass before taking a sip. Then he walked at a slow pace back to his desk, covering the papers from Tregilgas’s eyes. “If the conversation has turned to Alyce, I suppose you are correct.”

“It has. Humph,” Tregilgas gestured with his hand on his glass to continue his train of thought. “It is good we have this opportunity, Casvelyn. I’m done with games, if our common concern is Alyce’s welfare.”

Julian looked at him, deceptively calm. “I believe I have made my intentions known to you. So excuse me if find this confusing.”

Tregilgas shook his head. “I have been given all considerable thought. I will be honest with you, Casvelyn. I have little choice with all that has happened. I owe you a great debt, not only for Alyce, but with my…situation. Now, I will return the favor.”

“Alyce is not your concern anymore, Tregilgas. I believe I could not make it clearer. Alyce’s welfare is mine and mine alone.”

Tregilgas stared at Julian, long and hard. “If you permit me to be honest, for honesty is the best course at the moment: we are up against Sinclair, who has the ear of the king. Tristan has disappeared. You can rest assured that Sinclair is armed well against you and will begin to try to undermine all we have gathered against his son. With all we have learned the last few days, without a doubt Tristan is a madman. My concern again lies with Alyce.”

“And I will protect her,” Julian said flatly.

“Casvelyn, I will put all out on the table. We have one common interest, Alyce. I have contemplated all this last couple of weeks. I have spent years upon this case, you understand.” Tregilgas swirled his drink. He looked up and caught Julian’s eyes.

Julian’s eyes hardened and he leaned back in his chair. “Do go on.”

“Alyce has always maintained that Lieutenant Casvelyn woke her and took her Evermonde the night her father died. Lieutenant Casvelyn rode all the way up to Evermonde in a carriage with her, comforted her and reassured her. The next we know of him is that early the next morning in London is found shot in the back beside Hythe.”

Julian did not move, did not blink. He had known, he supposed, that one day someone would confront him. No one can outrun the past forever.

“I am not wrong, am I, Casvelyn? Alyce has maintained that she was to leave to her grandparents on that Saturday. The day that all fell apart. Hythe was discovered on Sunday morning. There is no other conclusion.”

“Conclusion?” Julian asked. He had to hear the words himself.

“That it was not Lieutenant Casvelyn who brought Alyce to Evermonde. It was you. You were Alyce’s hero. The one that promised to return for her. The question now only lies why you would have done so and what damage can be done from this knowledge.”

Julian gazed at Tregilgas, but his mind was elsewhere: back to a time when he had made that fateful decision. He swallowed hard, remembering. He had done all to protect his brother, to keep scandal from his name, their name. Few knew. Sebastian had. He had been there. Hythe had discovered the deception, but not until they returned to England. His grandfather had never known. It had been his intent no one else would discover the truth. It would serve little purpose except to dishonor his brother and he couldn't allow that to happen...not now...not after all this time.

He sighed heavily and drank down the entire contents of his glass. He glared at Tregilgas sitting there smug in his knowledge. Knowledge Julian held no doubt he held. Tregilgas would never had started this conversation without more than conjecture.

Tregilgas sat his glass down on the table beside him, a grim set to his mouth. "If I may, I have surmised a few assumptions from the papers I have gathered -  most concern your brother's military record. It seems he bought his commission shortly after his eighteenth birthday and was deployed to the colonies shortly after. It seems his tour was cut short by his first battle, a bloody, deadly battle for a young recruit. I have heard other stories from the Southern Campaign, gory, gruesome battles. It seems your brother served in the midst of one of goriest of the war. I have read the report. No quarter was given to the captured. The report says that the men misunderstood the orders, but I interviewed a member of Lieutenant Roland's unit, who distinctly remembers your brother.

"Said that there wasn't a finer rider in the division. Seems your brother had no trouble in combat. He had issues with after the battle was won. The scene told to me was one of horrific ghastly sights..."

Tregilgas didn't have to tell him the details. Roland had told him...finally, after he had pressed him to the point where Roland had broken down and cried when he relived the horror. Julian didn't want to think about the realities of war.

Roland had chosen the road well-traveled by second sons. Blinded by the promise of glory, Roland eagerly bought his commission with dreams of his fame, volunteering for one of the most prestigious cavalry units. They both had no doubt of the glory Roland would attain. Roland had always been the daring, adventurous one. Julian remembered well the twinge of jealousy as his brother deployed to his calling. Then he had come home less than seven months afterwards a different man.

"Only a man without a conscience would not have been affected by the circumstances and actions." Tregilgas paused.

Julian said nothing, neither admitting nor denying his words. Roland had been blessed with a conscience but also a strong sense of duty. Julian shuddered, recalling Roland telling him he had watched unarmed men cut down to shreds, begging and pleading for their lives and no mercy was given until there was no known survivors. Even worse, Roland had been forced to participate in the massacre under the threat of court martial. Another time, another place a more seasoned soldier, a more mature, hardened Roland perhaps would not have crumbled under his commander's orders to bayonet all the bodies whether dead or alive. Roland feared he would dishonor his family's name.

"I'm amazed you pulled all off, Casvelyn. You must have nerves of steel."

"You do what you must to protect the ones you love," Julian said simply. "All had reason."

Tregilgas nodded. "I believed it did. You managed to get Roland assigned to General Treadwell, away from the battlefield. A place you deemed more comfortable for your abilities.  It is where you met Hythe…”

“What more would you like me to say, Tregilgas? For it’s highly unlikely I will confirm or deny any of your conjecture.”

“Perhaps I want to understand that night when you took Alyce away. Perhaps I would like to understand why, when you knew Hythe so well, that you believed him capable of murdering your brother?”

Julian turned his head away from Tregilgas’s glare. The years gave way to caution and reluctance.

“Lord Casvelyn,” Tregilgas called out to regain Julian’s attention. “I would like to remind you of one fact. Nothing you could say or confess to me could be worse in the eyes of society as my secret I hold, in which you know. You have been a gentleman in your behavior toward me. You can expect the same from me. With all that I have knowledge of surrounding Hythe, you may hold the key. It needs to be understood…all.”

Julian looked back at Tregilgas. His words held truth in them. No matter what Julian confessed, some would hold that Tregilgas's sin was greater. He drew in a breath.

“Yes, I looked to Hythe as the father I never knew. I respected him greatly. When we returned to London after Charles Town, I had no choice but to confess. Roland’s health had greatly improved and was furious with me for the action I took to protect him. In all, it was Hythe who suggested a solution. Roland would once more exchange places with me. I became the Earl once more. Roland would be his counterpart. There was much to overcome still, but in all the deception seemed to have been successful. Roland and I were identical except I was slightly taller.

“Yes, I was aware that an issue had emerged. It was well after Roland and I settled back into our own roles. Roland did not have the bond to Hythe I had formed. Quite to the contrary, I'm afraid. Roland resented Hythe. He wanted only to return to the frontlines. I feared his doing so. Hythe understood my fear. He convinced Roland to give him until the latest investigation was over. He visited me here not long before his death. He told me he worried about some disparities in several reports. Reports he had filed, but differed from what was received by the Board. He feared he was dealing with a conspiracy on a high level.

“The day before the incident that cost both their lives, Roland came to me with concerns about Hythe.” Julian looked up at that point at Tregilgas. “I dismissed Roland’s concerns without looking at the papers he had brought to show me. He was concerned that it was Hythe himself that was profiting from the conspiracy. More than just dismissed his concerns, I accused him of thwarting Hythe to forward his own desire return to the frontline.” He shook his head. “I didn’t listen to the reason for his alarm. I ranted at him for even considering Hythe would be so dishonorable. Roland backed down. Said he was probably wrong in his deduction. He would look into it further. It was the last time I saw my brother alive.”

Julian barely finished his sentence before he relieved that moment in his mind, his brother hanging his head down, looking confused. Julian would never forgive himself for that moment. Rubbing his forehead, he wanted nothing more than this pounding in his head to go away.

“How did you come to take Alyce to your grandfather’s?” Tregilgas asked in what seemed a distant voice.

Julian stared at him, but he didn’t see Tregilgas’s face. He saw Hythe’s, so clearly like he stood in front of him as he had the last time he had seen him. Answering Hythe’s note, he had left White’s in the middle of a winning hand, for he sensed the urgency. Hythe…his eyes bore his worry…his manner greatly agitated…his dress disheveled as if he had been in a scuffle.

“Can you take Mary, Casvelyn? I need for you to take her away from here. It is not safe. I trust no other.”

“But of course. I will see if my aunt…”

“No,” Hythe interrupted him. “Now. Do not ask why but she needs to leave London. To disappear if necessary. It’s not safe. I have to…I have to deal with a situation.”

Julian agreed, if only to calm and appease his mentor. “Do not worry. I will take her. Tonight if you like.” He looked around the room. The house was deadly quiet. “Where is everyone? What of Roland?”

Hythe waved his hand in front of his face. “He has gone to collect some papers I need. He should be back within a few hours, but I need this to happen immediately. Go. Please. Hurry. I will explain all when you return.” He gripped Julian’s arm. “If…if something should happen, you remember our agreement about Mary…You will see to it…give me your word.”

Confusion reigned in Julian. His instincts told him to stay and discern Hythe’s anxiety, but Hythe would have none of it.

“You have my word.”

“What agreement? Why was he so concerned about Alyce’s safety then?” Tregilgas broke through Julian's remembrance.

Julian shook his head, returning to the present. For a moment he said nothing. He got to his feet, his face expressionless. “Hythe and I had a discussion concerning Mary's future, an agreement that at the proper time Roland would take Mary to be his wife. It would have been beneficial to both our interests. Mine in seeing that Roland settled with a large estate of his own. Hythe to have his only child married to a gentleman of quality.”

It was Tregilgas’s time to seem confused. “Why? Why would Hythe be so concerned with Alyce at such an early age? He himself a gentleman of high fortune, Alyce would have been quite sought after.”

Julian tilted his head to one side and looked at Tregilgas with unmistakable cynicism. “If she was the legitimate daughter of Hythe, Tregilgas. Unfortunately, her mother was not married to Hythe at the time of Alyce’s birth. Nor was she ever. Margaret Benton was a married woman when she met Hythe. It was told an unhappy marriage, but a marriage none the less. According to Hythe when he confessed to me, she was not from Charles Town or any of the Southern colonies, but Boston. She had made her way down to the Carolinas to begin life anew.

“Love is a tedious thing. Is it not, Tregilgas? What do the French say? Amour fou, mad, passionate love, the kind that drives one crazy and makes no sense.” Julian paused, a reason he now well understood. “Hythe loved Alyce’s mother and treated her as his wife, knowing they could never officially marry. Alyce does not know and there is no reason for her to. But it was Hythe’s concern that it would become public knowledge. It still could, but I tend to doubt all since other matters took the forethought. It seems a trivial matter now, doesn’t it?”

“Ah,” Tregilgas said quietly. “All makes more sense now, but it does not answer the question. Why did you think Hythe capable of killing your brother?”

Julian looked down at the floor and sighed. “All was chaos. I insisted on seeing my brother’s lifeless body and rage erupted within me. Shot in the back. Remembering our last conversation. Then guilt weighed heavily upon me. Hythe’s manner the last I saw him. It was not difficult to believe the tale wove of a guilt-ridden man going to extremes. Convincing myself I had mistaken my respect for Hythe as a pathetic need within me to replace a father I never knew. Betrayal clouds judgment. Pain. Loss. Do you want more?”

Julian watched Tregilgas digest his words. He expected Tregilgas to be deeply alarmed by his confession, but the man sat there in deep thought. A moment later, Tregilgas asked in a serious manner, blunt and to the point, “Then what changed that you believed Alyce her father was innocent? At the inn, I could well feel the fire within you upon the mention of Hythe’s name. Something happened between then and now and I do not mean taking Alyce to your bed.”

Of course, Tregilgas could not let him forget his lapse in judgment of taking Alyce as his. But that wasn’t a concern of Tregilgas’s. Julian would rectify the situation within the next few days when all seemed more settled. Alyce would be his wife. He would never have taken her without the intent to marry her. He had given his word to her father to protect her…

But now, Tregilgas was correct. He walked back over to his desk and lifted the papers he had been reading. “Roland’s papers he had brought over that night I refused to listen. After seeing Alyce, I dug them out.” Julian held them out to Tregilgas. “Since you are so good at deciphering puzzles, read them. I have over and over. Something is there; I just can’t put my finger on it. I can see where Roland’s concerns would be raised, except…”

Tregilgas accepted the papers. “Except what?”

“Except the reports. They are wrong, altered. I know because I was in the middle of most of these. Someone was setting Hythe up.”

“And you think it’s Fennimore?”

“I know it has to be. So many questions and little answers. Why? Why would he have gone to such lengths? Even now...Hythe’s words echo within me. That night above all else he seemed more concerned with Alyce’s welfare than anything else. Why?”

“It would be logical for Hythe’s first concern to be his child. Would it not?”

Julian shook his head. “It was more. If it was just to remove Alyce out of harm’s way, I would agree with you. Hythe wanted Alyce hidden. With that, it changes everything.”

“I have followed you to this point, but now you have me confused,” Tregilgas said, shifting in his chair. Eyeing Julian in a thoughtful manner, he continued, “You are saying that the conspiracy we have been chasing has never been?”

“I’m saying we have looked at it all wrong. Followed the clues where we would hit a dead end. What if this has never been about money or power? What if Fennimore set up Hythe methodically, carefully as if laying a noose around his neck? He had access to all our investigations. He had the knowledge to inflict doubt. He would have been able to meet Sinclair without causing suspicion upon himself. He would have knowledge of Hythe’s family issues with his brother’s gambling. He used all against Hythe.”

“But why?”

“Only one reason I can think of…revenge, complete and total revenge.”

Shivers ran down Julian’s spine upon the utterance of his thought. Tregilgas’s eyes lit, acknowledging the reasoning behind the statement. “It would explain much. Why after I searched for Fennimore the attempts began on Alyce’s life. If he hated Hythe so much he could not stop at his death and dishonor, he had to have complete satisfaction. He is after Alyce. But why?”

“That I can’t answer, Tregilgas. I would assume he was a colonist, although I believe he gave London as his home. Perhaps he lost his family and blamed Hythe. It would be my assumption. Roland saw the worst war can bring out in people in the Carolinas. All sides. But I’m not concerned about the reason. There is only one recourse at the moment.”

Tregilgas nodded in agreement, as if he understood fully Julian’s intent. “What do you want from me?”

“Alyce needs to disappear again. I need your help with getting her out of London undetected,” Julian said in a firm voice. “Once she is secured, I will hunt down the dog and make him sorry he ever took a breath of life.”

Chapter Seventeen

Reading out loud, Alyce sat by Leopold’s bedside. She glanced at him and paused. His eyes closed. The poor thing was worn out. The firelight threw flickering shadows around him. He leaned back in his bed. Gone was the strain of constant pain on his face. He seemed more relaxed and had begun to walk around the room and house. Smiling, she placed the book down beside the night table.

She rose quietly so not to disturb the patient. He had recovered sufficiently that the physician declared Leopold out of immediate danger, but he needed rest and time to recuperate fully.

“Alyce.”

Alyce turned upon hearing her name in a low whisper. She nodded to Charles in the doorway, closing it behind her.

Charles said in a low voice, “Let’s talk.”

The two walked in silence down the corridor to the drawing room. Alyce heard the grandfather clock chime. Nine. It was growing late. She wondered briefly why Julian hadn’t returned. She decided she would worry later, if need be. It had been awhile since she talked to her dear friend and there were things that needed to be said. She glanced over at Charles and smiled.

Alyce’s eyes fell on Charles, who sat silently. She tilted her head to the side. Suddenly, dread encompassed her. “Charles, is something bothering you?”

Charles squinted his nose in his quaint manner when he told her something she didn’t want to hear. He had done so the day he told her about her father’s demise.

“Tristan Sinclair’s body was dredged out of the James this evening.”

A hush descended upon them both. Alyce hesitated. “Then it is over? All of it. My father’s name…” She stopped. The look of Charles’s face told her otherwise.

“It may not be as simple as it appears, Alyce,” he said. He slid beside her, wrapping his arm around her. She laid her head on his shoulder. “Casvelyn is dealing with the issue at the moment. I came to tell you and explain the best I can.”

“Explain, please,” she urged. “Sinclair took the coward’s way out. It is easy to see. His sins caught up to him and he had not the courage to face what he had done.”

“At the moment they have not determined if he jumped or was sent to his death,” Charles said dryly. “You are correct in your assumption Casvelyn, my father, and myself have been actively pushing for the truth to be told. The fact is, Alyce, it may never be.”

She caught her breath, choking back the tears welling in her eyes. No, it could not be. Not after all this time. Her father was innocent. Innocent.

“There is more here than what it appears. Perhaps all will come to light, but honestly, Alyce, I have my doubts. Too much time. All seems to have been settled and the powers that be want this scandal to die. It may well be that it has been known that your father was innocent since the beginning. It would be my assumption. Sinclair hid behind the fear of tainting the crown if the investigation went farther.”

“No. No,” she whispered. “It can’t be, Charles.” Her voice faded. “All is lost?”

“Not all,” Charles spoke in a calming manner. “We have to wait to see what will come to light. All will take time. Nothing will be rash. It is why I wanted to talk with you.” He turned her to see her face. Wiping back escaping tears, he continued, “I’m taking Leopold out of London in the early morning before dawn, quietly. I have all arranged. You need to come with us.”

Alyce shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t leave. Charles, you have to know that I have agreed to marry Julian. I wanted to talk to you about it since the incident.” Then her eyes met Charles’s. She saw. She stuttered, “Julian...Julian knows you want to take me to the countryside?”

He nodded. “Yes. We talked of it. It seems the best course of action at the moment. For you.”

“But why?”

“There are reasons, Alyce. At the moment I concur with Casvelyn. Until all is settled, you need to withdraw back away from all eyes. It’s important, Alyce.” Charles paused. “It’s important that none know you are leaving. Do you understand? Tell only your maid to pack your trunk. Dress for travel. We leave with the early morning light.”

Something in his voice scared her. She recoiled back and whispered under her breath, “You believe I’m still in danger?”

He did not say a word. He did not have to. She was.

* * * *

Alyce lay on the settee. She had no desire to climb into bed because if she slept, dreams would come. Not dreaded dreams, but dreams of being in his arms. Charles said all had been arranged for her protection. Then why did it feel like goodbye? Where could he be? He would let her leave without an explanation?

She looked down at the medallion she held in her hand. How long she had held to the promise it represented to her? She squeezed it tightly in her hand. She had no need of it anymore. It had shown what the lieutenant wanted it to. It had convinced Julian she was who she said. She sat it down gently on the table beside her.

She rose but a knock on the connecting door halted her progress. Her heart leaped into her throat when Julian stepped into the room. He had dispensed with his waistcoat, dressed in a loosen shirt and breeches. His face unshaven, he looked tired, beyond exhausted.

“I thought you might have been asleep by now. I’m glad to find you awake.”

She managed to find her voice. “I could not sleep, leaving in the morning as I am. I wanted to see you. I needed to see you, Julian. You want me to leave?”

He grimaced. “No, I don’t want you to leave. You have to, Alyce. There is much going on here that we didn’t expect.” He hesitated. “You will be happier away from here, I’m sure. It will not be for long.”

She cleared her throat. She could barely bring herself to say the words. “Is it what you want?”

He was quiet for a long time, staring at her, wordless. Then in the next moment, he crossed the room in two strides. He captured her in his arms. “Do I want you to go?” he whispered against her mouth, holding her tightly against him. “Never. You do not know how long I have felt nothing. I cared for nothing. It was as I breathed, I walked, but did not live until you.”

She pressed her hands against his chest and gazed into his eyes, searching for the answer she sought. She believed all his words, yet she saw words unspoken, words that would keep her from his arms...in the future…tomorrow. Tonight, though, tonight there was no tomorrow.

Her eyes fixed upon his. She started on the first button of her gown. A slight smile emerged on his face. He made no attempt to stop her. Suddenly shyness overwhelmed her. Silly considering they were lovers, but her fingers trembled on the buttons. He moved forward and took the hem of the nightgown. In one smooth movement, nothing lay between them.

In silence, her eyes never left his. The invasive intimacy sent instinctive pleasure throughout her as his gaze swept over her.

He wasted no more time. He pushed her back to the bed and fell down upon her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him to her. He kissed her, so gentle. His lips barely brushed against hers. She moved up into the kiss, wanting more.

"I want you, Julian," she whispered. "All of you."

He did not answer, but his eyes burned with desire. Dispensing with his own clothes, he leaned down and touched his parted lips to hers, tasting her with his tongue. He pulled her close against him so there was nothing between them, not even air. The contact of her bare skin against his sent a cascade of sensations through her, mesmerizing her with his touch. He kissed her over and over, taking more of her will with each kiss. Her thoughts blurred with a surge of pleasure.

Her body reveled from his touch. His caresses lured her, stroking her into a sea of delights. Firm strokes claimed her while desire crashed through her. He scorched her with kisses. Feverish, hard, and impatient. She cried for more. It was dangerous and frightening how fierce her response to him was.

Etching all into her memory: his warmth; his smell of musky cologne; his solid, hard muscles holding her against him - she treasured each moment. His hands, his mouth were everywhere: her cheek, the place along her neck that drove her mad until his mouth teased at her breast. His mouth suckled her breast while his hand titillated the other. Her body arched toward him, craving the release his touch promised.

He entered her just enough to taunt and make her crazed. Thrusting inside of her, he took his time, moving slowly, deliberately to the point she felt she would explode. Finally he lost his restraint and thrust hard, over and over. She almost wept when he climaxed.

She loved him, all of him. She loved the feel of him, so hard and strong. She loved the way he looked at her. She loved the way he touched her. She wrapped her legs around him, holding him to her as long as she could, and allowed herself to feel all of him. Her heart ached when he finally pulled apart from her.

“Come here,” he said, reaching for her.

She curled up against him. He said no words. No words were needed. He pillowed his cheek against the top of her head and held her thus until the time came to leave.

Never had she dreaded a moment in time as she did when she would leave this day, to leave all she had come to know and love. He seemed to have slept soundly by her side. She herself slept little by the time he roused. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. He drew free of her and swung himself out of bed. She smiled at him as he sat back down beside her. He reached over and caressed her cheek.

“It’s time,” he said quietly. “It is not such a long journey, but I hope far enough away from this madness. All your other needs will be seen to when you reach your destination. I will help you dress now, if you wish.”

She rose up. “No, I can see to my needs.”

“I do not mind, Alyce. I find I would rather spend every moment with you until you leave.”

She shook her head. “It is hard enough, Julian. It is best if I do all myself. Charles will see to all, I’m certain. I won’t have a care.”

He tipped his head down and touched her lips. “I will come. Do not doubt.”

Try as she might, tears escaped her eyes. He kissed them away. “Don’t, Alyce. I send you away only to be safe.”

“Julian,” she said softly. “I will be fine. It is only the moment. I will hold to this moment in my heart forever. I do not want you to worry.”

She paused, pushing back all the questions she held within her, all the reservations. She kissed him and pressed away from him, forcing a smile which faded the moment he walked out the connecting door.

From the window, Julian pulled back the curtains. In the dim dawn light he watched Alyce accepting Charles’s hand as she stepped into the waiting carriage. She paused a moment and stared back at the window. He didn’t move nor did he make any gesture to acknowledge her look. He stared darkly at her until she disappeared down the street, watching for any movement. It mattered little. He had a man follow the carriage for her protection. He wondered only her reaction when she discovered her destination. Would it put her mind at ease?

Sighing heavily, he looked down. In his hand he held the medallion. She left it for him on his pillow. No note or explanation. None was needed. He stared down at the golden medallion.

He had given it to Roland before he had been deployed to the colonies. The medallion had been their father's. His father had had a copy made when he realized he had twin boys. This was the original, a tad larger with the date engraved of his father's birth engraved into it. The copy had the boys' birthdate engraved in it. Roland had been touched when Julian had given it to him. Julian could not do much about the rules that kept Roland from a title and all it entitled him, but he gave Roland a piece of their father. Roland, in turn, had given Julian the copy.

Though, in truth, the medallion was a question in itself. Alyce contended that Roland had given it to her when he left her at Evermonde. Roland had ensured Alyce's safety with the action. The question lay when Roland had given Alyce the medallion. Since it was he that had left Alyce at Evermonde, when had Roland thought it necessary for Alyce to have the medallion? How had Roland known the need for Alyce to have the medallion? Julian explained Alyce’s confusion on when Roland gave her the medallion with all that happened to her, but something nagged within him. How...how did Roland know she would need it?

Poor Alyce. How frightened she must have been! And now if he could have read her mind, he would wager her thoughts held desolate heartbreak. For that matter, he didn’t have to read her mind. She said all with the way she made love to him…as if it was their last time together.

She worried about the obstacles before them. Certainly the death of Tristan Sinclair blurred their cause. All was not lost, but the reality of the situation demanded a blunt assessment. George Hythe’s name meant little compared to the harm the crown would suffer if Sinclair’s part clouded the names of the princes, understanding that most accusations do not have to be proven, only spoken. To Alyce, it mattered only that her name tainted his…What, though, would she feel when she discovered his secret?

It would not be now. After...after he found Fennimore and made him pay.

During his time with Hythe, he gave little thought to the man. Efficiency and competency led to little attention drawn to Fennimore. He couldn't remember ever a time the two held a conversation more than a few minutes. Racking his brain, he tried to remember all about the man, but for the life of him nothing came to light. Fennimore had been with Hythe before he came upon the scene. In that Fennimore harbored hatred toward Hythe and his family lay evident now, but Julian couldn’t remember a word spoken against Hythe from the man, even under his breath.

For a moment he pondered the incident before they departed Charles Town. Now he would have to question if Fennimore had a role in the raid. It seemed likely he had, leaving little doubt that the man was capable of cold blooded murder.

Julian squeezed the medallion tightly in his fist. Never…never had he ever suspected Fennimore of such a diabolical plan. Without a doubt, Fennimore played his hand well, but the game was not over.

Chapter Eighteen

The journey to her destination took over two days’ time. Travel was slowed due to the care of Leopold. At times, Charles rode his horse to give Leopold more room to lie. But mostly Charles rode inside the carriage, laughing and joking, reminiscing of former days to the point where Alyce found herself relaxing, perhaps even enjoying the trip, if not for the constant throbbing of her heart.

Time fell when she had only her thoughts surrounding her. It was then her being longed for Julian. Had it only been hours since she said goodbye? Why, then, did it feel an eternity? While she thought, she admitted to herself a consciousness of his strength, his dominating nature, and power over her; it was a deeply passionate relationship that at times completely absorbed her with a need for him. She confessed to her heart the truth that she had fallen deeply in love with Julian Casvelyn and was doomed to be so for the rest of her life.

The good weather continued to make the journey more pleasurable, a perfect time of the year for such a trip. She did not ask their destination; she didn’t care. All she knew dwelled in her heart: it would be without Julian’s presence. Upon the end of the second day, the carriage turned down a narrow winding lane lined with willow trees and dotted with wild roses. In the air there was the sweet smell of honeysuckle. She took a second look at the scene before her.

She stared unbelieving of the sight. She glanced over to find Charles’s eyes upon her smiling broadly.

“Yes, it is,” he said simply.

Before her lay an English manor with gables and chimneys stacks rising up the walls and towered beyond the slate roof. The magnificent house sat facing all directions. Northward laid the hills and farmlands; west gave view to a glorious garden; east had the grand notorious stables, housing some of the finest horses in England; and then to the south the ruins of the old abbey still stood. She had only visited once so long ago.  Evermonde. Julian had sent her to his home.

The moment she walked into the enormous hall a familiarity suffused within her. How could a house she had only visited once embed itself into her memory? Yet, all seemed as it had years before. Entering, she glanced around the grand hall at either end of which was a beautiful curved staircase leading to a gallery. Ornate swords and shields hung across panel walls and at the foot of each staircase stood a suit of armor.

Colonel Tolworthy met his guests in the foyer. The stout patriarch welcomed the small group with relative enthusiasm, unlike years earlier where she had been called into see him, trembling. How quickly all came back to her: her nervousness; her fears of the unknown; the sense of loss. This day her guardian greeted her with a simple kiss upon her cheek.

“My grandson has sent word to see to your needs and to make you feel comfortable in your new home. It seems you go from being my ward to becoming my granddaughter. You’ll have to forgive an old man, my dear. I will strive to do my best, but as you must have already ascertained, I have every intention of correcting my past behavior.”

In that moment, her doubts dissipated concerning Julian. Her heart swelled. The old man may not have approved of her, but he understood his grandson. Separated from Charles and Leopold, she was shown her chambers.

She had been placed within a large suite of rooms. Deep red velvet curtains, which blended in with the wall coverings, had been drawn on the room’s enormous windows, giving way to a gorgeous view of the ruins. A large four-poster bed with a long stool at its foot sat in a prominent position, dominating the room. The tallboy and cabinets with exquisite carvings gave to the room an air of grace and charm. She smiled at the sight of the connecting door. Julian had made his intention made clear to all. She was to be his wife.

The days passed pleasantly. Leopold seemed to gain strength each day. The serene atmosphere gave way to a contentment and peace. She saw it with Charles also. She hated to see him go, but the intention had never been he stay with them. He had to return to London. He, too, had issues to address.

Strolling within the garden the night before he left for London, he walked in silence down a path of paved stones. Her hand upon his arm, he led her through the whole of the flowering garden where the blooming shrubs littered the area. The garden held some of the most beautiful hydrangeas she had ever seen, a charming garden with a pond in the center of which a Greek statue of a male with only a semblance of clothing in the most opportune place stood.

Lavender scented the air while they walked in silence. Charles broke from her when they came upon white benches with gilded decorations. He motioned for her to sit.

“I wanted a moment with you before I departed,” he said, smiling as to himself. “It has been good, being away from all. I have been able to garner my thoughts. Everything had become so chaotic in London. I felt as though I falling off an endless cliff. Now, I have gained ground beneath my feet.” He turned to her. “I want to make things right between us, Alyce, before I leave.”

She noticed the tenderness in his voice and allowed him to take her hand in his. He brought it up to his lips and kissed it. He kept his smile, but his eyes changed expressions. To what she couldn’t tell: sadness, resolution, melancholy?

“These last days have meant a great deal to me, Alyce. For most my life I have either tried to be someone I was not or hid from who I was. A constant struggle within me, even you cannot understand the depths I have spiraled down to.” He paused to collect his thoughts.

“You…you have been my dearest friend. You accepted me for who I was. It saved me. No, don’t speak. Let me finish or I will not. You accepted me, but in the real world few others would. It is the truth. I had thought I had contemplated all before I asked you to marry me. A perfect solution. My dear friend. I told myself I could give to you most of all you lacked. I wanted to. I wanted to make you happy. After all that has occurred, it has finally become clear that in doing so, I would pull you within my own conspiracy, forcing you to live a lie.”

“Charles, I love you. You know that,” she said frankly. “I want you happy also.”

His smile broadened and if she wasn’t mistaken she saw him fight back tears welling in his eyes. “I know. It is why I can’t say any more to you except that I give you my blessing. If you want to marry that conceited, arrogant man, I will stand by you.” He pressed his lips together tightly. His tone lightened. “Not many would have done what he has done. He must love you greatly. He has ignored the rumors flying around about us, the ones that protect me from my secret. And he has chosen he would rather have you than to bow to the pressure placed upon him by society.

“Moreover, for the first time in my life, another peer knows my secret. Although he may not accept it and has done so only because of you, he has respected me and Leopold. He opened his home to us. For the first time, I felt what it would be like not to live a lie.”

He released her hand. She wanted to say something but could find no words, for emotions overcame her. His smile returned.

“I leave tomorrow, back to conclude this venture. I want more than anything for you to have your happy ending. You deserve such and to let you know, I have mine.”

“I don’t understand, Charles.”

“I have learned I may have to hide my love for Leopold in public, but I cannot live a lie. To be happy myself, I cannot in good conscience take anyone for a wife. I have found contentment with my decision. Contentment I have never known. Perhaps the stress upon discovery has lessened. You have given me the forbidden love scenario. When one thinks of me, it will be whispered of a love lost. I have learned that I need to interact within society to a limit. I can play that part to keep the rumors at bay, but I have what I need, my work and Leopold. My only regret is my father. I think now he understands, but he will be disappointed that I will have no heir to carry on on our direct line.”

“He is proud of you for who you are, Charles. And, in truth, there are no assurances that you would have a child even if you made the sacrifice. Many people marry and never have children,” she said. Conscious of his loyalty to his father and his position, she added, “Perhaps, Charles, it would not be a bad thing if you encouraged your father to marry again. Oh, do not start with me. I know he has professed never to marry again, but if it means so much to him, he could. It does not need to fall upon your shoulders. And he would have you to help raise a child if the need arose.”

A laugh burst forth. A loud vigorous laugh. “This is why I love you so. You have the most ingenious way of looking upon things. Not that I could ever imagine holding such a conversation with my father.”

She laughed with him and the discussion turned to his trip and his intention. That night when she laid her head upon her pillow she slept soundly, dreaming of Julian and the day he would make her his wife.

Alyce sat at her dressing table brushing her hair, contemplating the day. She had dismissed the young girl serving as her maid. She had heard no word from Julian. Charles told her not to expect any until they had the situation under control, but time seemed endless. A small nagging fear emerged that there would never be any end.

Leopold’s recovery had gone well since they arrived. He seemed stronger each day. The fresh country air over the last three weeks certainly agreed with him. Amazingly, he began to take walks around the gardens. He had even managed to walk down the path toward the village. He set his goal to walk to the village by week’s end.

Whickhoe, a quaint village, rather small actually, boasted only one tavern, a bootmaker, a tailor, and a dressmaker. Alyce herself had never visited the village since her arrival. Her excursions were limited to the estate only with Colonel Tolworthy. All had seemed in a conspiracy to keep her in seclusion.

She stood and walked over to the window, looking out across the ruins. She could just glimpse the rugged outline of the crumbling walls in the moonlight. All gave the impression of serenity and peace, though Colonel Tolworthy warned her never to go to the ruins by herself.

“Old. The stone wall could collapse. The wood rotten along the ground where the floor laid could cave in. The boys played upon my nerves. I swear that Roland would be the death of me. He knew the ruins so well. He would run along the edge and through. He would hide in the ruins and make Julian find him. Julian would rant at him until he would relent and take the challenge,” Colonel Tolworthy told her upon their morning ride, which had become part of her daily routine.

Alyce looked questionably at him. “I thought Julian to be the daredevil.”

Colonel Tolworthy chuckled to himself. “No, no child. Julian is a thinker, always has been. Never made a move without first contemplating the consequences. Whereas Roland would jump head long into a situation without a thought. Though, never had I encountered two closer siblings. They were alike in so many ways: their appearance, their gestures. It is why it was so hard on Julian. He has never been the same. I believe he holds guilt within him.”

Ivy twisted around the semblance of what remained of the tower. The stones were dark with age set in a hollow. To the side of the tower laid a graveyard. They both dismounted. Leaving her horse tied to a post, she walked through it with the colonel, not because she wanted to, but she hadn't a choice.

The graveyard looked dismal. In the oddly clear gray light, the stillness of the place held an air of expectancy. Some of the gravestones were so old that the words which had been engraved upon them were obliterated; others leaned.

The path led to a mausoleum, unique in structure. Care had gone into the workmanship. The lancet windows, miniature replicas of medieval designs, held no glass, only flat panels of stone behind the ornate tracery.

Stepping towards it, a shiver ran up her spine. Ignoring it, she told herself it was only the graves. She had let her imagination run rampant with hearing the voice, thinking she had seen a ghost. Charles had dismissed all her concerns with her active imagination. Charles was right, of course.

Her years in the heart of Cornwall had left her believing more than she cared to admit in superstitions, ghosts, and such. Lissa would surely laugh at her if she knew. Alyce had always made fun of Lissa for being such a scaredy cat.

She followed the colonel through a heavy wooden panel door with a deep set carved arch, adorned with sculptured figures. There was nothing to suggest anything wrong, but a feeling encompassed Alyce. One she tried to ignore, but couldn't dismiss.

“This is the family’s vault. It is where Julian’s parents… my daughter, lay, and, of course, Roland.” Colonel Tolworthy said the words without emotion, but Alyce saw the grief within his eyes.

She followed in silence, reading the engraving of names gone but not forgotten. Gideon Julian Vernon Casvelyn. To his side, Elizabeth Claire Meyer Casvelyn. She walked only a few more feet. She halted. In front of her: Roland Gideon Montague Casvelyn. She reached to the plate and ran her fingers over the raised wording.

Then, as she turned from the door, she saw a flicker of movement. A shadowy figure moved through the mausoleum, and then out the door. Her immediate reaction was fright, but not so much for any horror done to her person. No, it was the sudden awareness they weren't alone. Clutching her hands across her heart, she gasped.

“Child, are you all right?” Colonel Tolworthy looked over at her.

“I’m fine. I scared myself, is all,” she answered. The colonel's voice broke the spell. She blinked. When she opened them, she stood alone with the colonel in the mausoleum again. All was quiet and still.

The bright sunlight shone down through the open door. She shook her head, reprimanding herself greatly. Whatever it was - it was gone, disappeared, vanished. The rest of the day had proceeded uneventfully.

That night, she clutched the drawn-back curtain, thinking about the events in the mausoleum. Of one thing she was certain. She had to get a grip upon herself or Julian will think she had lost her mind. She breathed in deeply.

How beautiful all looked in the illuminating moonlight before her. She needed only to relax. Suddenly she saw it. The vision wasn't new...again she saw movement in the misty darkness. The form emerged, as if stepping from the darkness into the moonlight. In the faint glow, his grim face looked like a death mask. In the reflected light, the figure stood as if on guard. His features writhed soundlessly as if in pain; he flung his arms in a fashion to push all back.

In her head, a warning bellowed.

"Go! Get out of here. Hurry, hurry... leave before it's too late!"

She drew back from the window. She wanted nothing more than to scream for someone. Then reason dictated to her. She forced herself back to the window and closed the curtains. She ran to the bed, pulling the covers around her. She told herself she had let her imagination play tricks upon her. She forced a laugh at her foolishness. After a while she slept, but was troubled by disturbing dreams of the ruins: someone chased her within and she was lost, searching desperately for a way out. She woke and calmed herself. Eventually the morning dawned, putting an end to Alyce’s disturbed night.

Chapter Nineteen

In the late afternoon, Julian waited for the return of General Treadwell. An unprecedented gathering of minds had been held between the Home Secretary, the Lord Sydney, the Duke of Arungdon, Mr. Sebastian Byrne, and General Treadwell. Julian was in a thoroughly foul mood. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back in deep thought. Enough time had been wasted. For the last two weeks, he had unearthed every bit of information on Fennimore and pursued him with a vengeance. For once, Fennimore was on the run.

Fortunately for Julian, Tristan Sinclair had not covered his tracks carefully. Probably, he thought, in the misguided belief that he was untouchable. Sebastian had proved invaluable in deciphering the whereabouts of Fennimore while in London. Most of the façade Fennimore had created had crumbled with the information Julian provided to counter the false reports. There had only been one report, a quite damaging one pertaining to the transportation of the stolen supplies by Hythe’s own ships. The signature upon the forms well signaled a forgery, but was close enough to Hythe’s own.

Julian glanced over to where Tregilgas sat. For the last hour Tregilgas had spent his words attempting to reassure Julian that all would work itself out.

“Alyce’s safe. We have men watching her. Leopold has healed sufficiently. Fennimore will never ascertain she is at Evermonde.” Tregilgas paused. “In as much, she is protected. Fennimore is feeling the walls close in on him. For whether or not Hythe’s name is cleared, Fennimore has become a most wanted man. If he is in England, he will be found.”

“Then why can I not shake this feeling? Something is wrong, Tregilgas,” Julian said in an even tone.

Julian looked up as the door opened. General Treadwell was announced.

“General, please have a seat. Is Sebastian…?”

“I would rather stand at the moment, but,” the general looked over at Tregilgas, “I could use a drink, if you are so inclined.”

Julian gestured for Tregilgas to keep his seat. “I’ll see to the general. From the look of him, I imagine, we all could use one.”

General Treadwell accepted the drink. Then he sat and lowered his head. After a moment of silence, he sighed deeply and looked up at Julian.

“There will be no more games with me, Casvelyn.”

Julian didn’t have to ask the reason why. It was written on the general’s face, but instead of pressing his issues, he turned his conversation to his findings of his day.

“In all, this morning has been quite informative. Over the last few days your friend Byrne has been working alongside the Home Secretary’s department to clear up loose ends. In their investigation they came across a couple of souls offering up enlightening information which cast doubt upon Hythe’s involvement.”

“It is what we have suspected for a time, general. Will it be enough to clear his name?” Tregilgas asked.

“The issue is not clearing Hythe’s name, Tregilgas, but ensuring that the princes’ friendship with Sinclair does not cast a cloud around their name. In all, the investigation also clears any knowing involvement with the princes, only their choice of friends they surrounded themselves with. They have been informed and have been cooperative. It seems that the younger Sinclair may have overstated his friendship, which was supported in the findings. As we speak, I assume there will be less evidence of their friendship over the coming days to the point where I imagine they had never even met.”

It was no more than Julian thought would happen. He took relief the princes had no dealings in this scandal. The scoundrel Sinclair had used their acquaintance to hide behind. “But of Sinclair’s involvement?”

“That, too, is being dealt with. The crown has no desire to suffer another scandal. At the moment, King George has bigger issues to contend with, mainly his own health.”

Julian nodded with understanding. Rumors flew rampant of the king’s deteriorating mental health, to the point where the talk had become of the Prince of Wales becoming Prince Regent.

General Treadwell swirled the contents of his glass and looked directly at Julian. “It has been made known we need now to capture this Fennimore fellow at all cost and silence this scandal. As for dealing with Hythe, it has been determined once Fennimore is found, there will be no public acknowledgement of the findings and no formal statement of rescinding the charges against Hythe. But there will also be no public denunciation if rumors spread of his innocence. His body also will be moved to holy ground. It is the most we can ask for in this case.”

Julian stared sternly at the elderly man before him. “It is not enough…”

“Perhaps. But if you want more, then we need to find Fennimore. The powers that be may be more generous once the threat is silenced. Your friend, Byrne, is at this moment interviewing Sir James Hythe at Lord Sydney’s request. Seems a trail has been found leading back to the man. Careless. But the truth has a way of emerging. Don’t you think, Lord Casvelyn?”

Julian caught the general’s eye. The general entwined his fingers together, waiting for his answer to the unspoken question. Tregilgas rose, but Julian motioned for Tregilgas to stay. For what seemed an eternity, the three set in silence.

Treadwell pursed his lips. “I have known, Lord Casvelyn, since you came to me that night at my house. I suspected the day before but thought it impossible. Do you believe I would not have known you...lieutenant?”

Julian looked at him, long and hard. “It is not a deception I cared to perform, general. I hadn’t a choice, but I will not insult you further by denying it. It is time to acknowledge my deeds. Some good can come of all this. Hythe’s name can be cleared…”

“I want to know why. Why you have elicited this elaborate deception for years? For God’s sakes, man, why? I waited to see what hand you played. I can see no advantage for you. Bloody hell!” Treadwell said, not containing his temper. “I want to know why, damn you! To mock us! Was it a wager? Did the two of you get a good laugh on the ruse?”

Julian had been fortunate to have been able to pull all off years ago, but over the last couple of weeks came the comprehension to undo the damage to Hythe he had to step forward. He had already given information only the lieutenant could have known. In the end, he would take the consequences needed to end this scandal.

“Do you mind if I poured myself another drink, general? This is going to take a while.”

General Treadwell’s stern expression never wavered during Julian’s tale. He leaned back in his chair at the finish.

“Had I known before, I would have stepped forward. The papers Roland gave me…I didn’t look at them until after Alyce’s appearance. I hesitated only because of Roland’s name. It does not deserve dishonor. All that was done was because of my actions, but to counter Sinclair, to protect the crown’s name, I was left with no other course of action. I need only to make sure Alyce is safe. I ask only to have an opportunity to put an end to this madness.”

General Treadwell’s forehead wrinkled upward. Julian had seen that look many times in the years he served under his commander. “Answer me this, Lord Casvelyn, was it your intervention? You know of what I ask. Instead of court martial and disgrace over my own actions after the incident, I was retired and told to slither away in the darkness.”

Julian blinked and pressed his lips tightly together. “I have never known you to slither, general.”

Another knock upon the door interrupted their thoughts. The footman entered. “There has been a note delivered here for the general, my lord.”

Julian watched while the general read over the note. Breathing in deeply, General Treadwell handed the note over to Julian. “It seems all is about to come to head. It seems Sir James has been quite informative, once the evidence against him was revealed. Funny how cooperative one becomes when one is trying to save oneself. Well, lieutenant, we don’t have all day. Looks as though we have one last mission.”

Maneuvering one's horse through the streets of London was not the easiest of tasks, even if one wasn't galloping. Julian dismounted before his horse came to a complete stop. Within moments he stood in the middle of the Home Secretary’s office, the Lord Sydney, Thomas Townshend, stood upon his entrance and motioned for the group to sit.

“Sir Hythe has been most cooperative. As most that dealt with this Fennimore fellow, he fell into his trap, unsuspecting, of course, of the man’s intentions until well after his brother’s death. Seems he was tricked into signing documents for his brother by Fennimore.”

Julian nodded. So that mystery was solved of the incriminating evidence against Hythe, but something was wrong. Lord Sydney noticed his dismay.

“All the ends of the puzzle seemed to have come together. Now we need only to find this man for justice to be served. We wait for word from Mr. Byrne and our men. It seems that Sir Hythe’s son has taken up a friendship with this Fennimore. Sir Hythe believes we will find Fennimore with his son, Tobias Hythe. Mr. Byrne has gone directly to his home. I hope to hear shortly of their detention.”

“I’m afraid that it won’t be quite that simple.”

Julian turned to face his friend, who had barged in the door out of breath. Sebastian looked over at his friend. His concern frightened Julian.

“The young Hythe was not at his home in London. After one subtle threat his cousin, Priscilla, confessed Tobias Hythe had left in the early morning without notice alongside a friend and from the description it is without a doubt Fennimore.”

“Where to, man?” Julian demanded.

“You’ll not like this, Julian.” Sebastian took a deep breath. “It seems that Miss Priscilla had a discussion with Lady Breck last night at a dinner. Seems that you have rubbed the lady the wrong way, my friend. She told Miss Priscilla that you had demanded all of Alyce’s clothes and wares. She assumed she was living with you. I do not think it would take much to decipher where she is if she isn’t in London. I’m afraid they head for Evermonde.”

Fear swept through Julian as he rode with Sebastian by his side. They had long left the others behind. General Treadwell said only, “To ride like the wind and get the damn bastard.”

He prayed only they would get there in time.

Chapter Twenty

There were times when the day went forever. It seemed to Alyce as if she had taken a deep breath and hadn’t released it. Never had Alyce cowered, but since the night she saw the moving shadow, a foreboding sensation encompassed her. She chastised herself greatly. She had never been like that before, but she had a sudden need for Julian. She wanted him; needed him so desperately.

Memories kept intruding upon her thoughts. Images invaded her dreams and lingered in the morning light. She couldn’t escape them, searching for something to explain her feelings. Why did it seem that all wasn’t as it should be?

She dreaded the nights. She could find no sleep, tossing and turning fretfully. Most nights she laid waiting for the sun to rise. She watched, clutching her pillow until she saw the darkness lighten to a pinkish tinge.

The days meshed together with no word from Julian. Leopold noticed the change in her, but could offer her no comfort.

She wanted Julian. All her worries would dissipate once he held her again. She walked along the path leading back around the house to the south side and stood for a moment looking around the garden. Even the colors of the flowers seemed subdued to her this day.

She went into the manor and as soon as she entered the hall, her eyes fixed upon a visitor. Her face lit up. The man held his hat in his hand, tilting his head toward her. Her eyes questioned. It couldn’t be. Not here. “Tobias?” she uttered under her breath.

“Tobias,” she cried. “Is it really you?”

His lips curved into a smile, a warm, inviting smile. “None other! You do not know what the sight of you does for me!”

Laughter erupted within the drawing room. Having retired after the evening dinner, Alyce sat with Leopold and Tobias. To Alyce’s surprise, Colonel Tolworthy joined them, contrary to his normal habit of excusing himself to his study. Alyce did not need to guess the reason why. Leopold had sufficiently lectured her for his appearance.

“It is no accident, Alyce. He came with a purpose.”

“He explained everything to my satisfaction, Leopold. Lady Breck informed Priscilla that my belongings were delivered to Lord Casvelyn. It was a logical conclusion. He is worried about me.”

Leopold’s eyebrows rose to the questionable response. “Why, then, ride out to see you? He has not seen you in years. Why the urgency, is what I ask. Caution is what I urge, Alyce. At least until Charles or Lord Casvelyn returns.”

Alyce stared over at her cousin. He hadn’t changed much in her eyes. Of course, he had gotten taller, but not much. His face still held softness in it, though weary, concerned lines now etched in his forehead. In most company, Alyce imagined, he would fade into the background. No, she decided, the man before her could do her no harm.

Tobias cleared his voice. “No. Believe it or not, our Alyce didn’t come down from the tree. We had to wait until Uncle George returned that night. Didn’t want to admit she was scared.”

“I didn’t realize that heights frightened me when I hid in the old oak until I looked down and couldn’t move,” Alyce said with a grin, completely transformed to a time of youth and mischief.

“Impulsive nature. That’s what Uncle George said would be the death of you.”

“In my youth,” Alyce corrected her cousin with good humor. “Now I’m afraid I am only a boring conventional lady.”

“I doubt that is the word I would use to describe you, Alyce,” Leopold offered. He placed his fork down. “I have to say I have enjoyed the company this evening. We have lived a quiet existence out here. Although delighted that you have searched out your cousin, in earnest I would never dreamed that you would do so. I was under the impression her family had shunned her. Unfairly, of course.”

Alyce frowned at Leopold. His meaning wasn’t lost upon her. Obviously he didn’t accept the account Tobias had given her. She watched Tobias lower his eyes and smile to himself. He breathed deeply and looked up at Leopold.

“Alyce and I were close friends besides being cousins, Mr. Delibes. I do not expect you to understand. No matter what my grandfather’s stance, I would never turn my back upon her,” Tobias responded. He turned to her. “I have so many questions and so much to tell you. You cannot imagine my surprise to discover you were to have a Season. When I heard the rumor, I couldn’t believe it. I thought you had returned to the colonies. It was what we had been told. I should have expected differently, I suppose. Everything else I had been told had been a lie.”

“It was not your fault. I was cared for. Not understanding exactly myself all that happened, but as you can see I’m happy,” Alyce assured Tobias while she avoided Leopold’s eyes.

“Yes, yes. I see,” he said, as if to himself. He stood. “I suppose that I should retire. I am indeed grateful, Colonel Tolworthy, for the night’s rest. I will leave at first light. I have seen my cousin is well. In that, I’m appreciative.” With a half-smile he bowed to Alyce and took her hand. He held it gently. “Take care, my cousin.” He turned and walked out the door.

Long after Tobias took his leave, Alyce walked up the stairs to her chamber. Scrunched in her hand was the note he had passed to her on his exit. The moment she closed her door, she at last looked upon it.

Alyce,

Meet me in the garden at midnight. It’s of the utmost importance I talk with you.

Tobias

Although she had no desire to meet Tobias out in the garden at night, she hadn't a choice. She owed him that much. Didn’t she? Alyce changed back into a simple day gown after her maid departed. She had no desire for the girl to run to Colonel Tolworthy. She pulled her cloak around her and exited her room.

Poor Tobias. He had always wanted to play Sir Galahad, brave and true. Ashamed of feeling so frightened, she convinced herself she was not going to be taken in by her foolish imagination. She pushed her fear of the dark aside for Tobias. She eased out the French door as the grandfather clock chimed twelve.

Tobias waited down by the fish pond, further away than she would have liked for a short conversation to assure him of her welfare. On closer inspection, Alyce suppressed a smile. The poor chap looked as if he had crawled out his window. His clothes were disheveled; the knees of his breeches dirty; his coat tail ripped. He had not even attempted to wear a wig: his hair was pulled back in a haphazard manner. Upon seeing her, he straightened his coat out, jerking on the lapel.

"Alyce,” he cried. “I’m so happy you decided to talk with me. I had worried you would not show.”

“Dear Tobias,” she reached over and squeezed his hand. “If we are caught, I have no doubt they will toss you out the front door,” she said lightly in jest. Although she thought it would be no jest if they were indeed caught. “I wanted only to assure you there is no need to worry on my account.”

“I wish it was so, but I fear otherwise, dear cousin,” Tobias said. His concern strained his tone. “It is what I came for tonight. To take you away, if you have need of it.”

A light laugh escaped her. He had come to rescue her. She pressed her hand against her mouth so he would not ascertain her amusement.

“Oh, Tobias. I don’t need protection. Besides, Lord Casvelyn has seen to my immediate needs.”

“Why? Why has he seen to them, Alyce?”

Suddenly, Alyce recoiled from the emergence of intensity in his tone. “It is a complicated tale, Tobias.”

“Are you to marry him?”

“Why would you ask that, Tobias?”

He gestured with his hands to give her pause. Then he ran his hands over the tension in his face. “Listen. Listen, please. I went to him the night of Lady Brancroft’s ball. I had only just found out about your rumored emergence. Father indicated that there was a plan in place to have you renounced…I thought Casvelyn was behind it. Many times over the years he has made clear to us how he holds us all responsible for his brother’s death. Then to hear he had the courts seize your fortune.”

“But your father had placed a claim against it also, Tobias...before Julian.”

“No, that is not true,” he stated firmly. “My father tends to do much I’m not aware of, but, in that, I would have, I assure you. I want you to understand all. I do not trust Casvelyn. I may have over indulged a tad before I called him out, but my courage grew...”

Alyce stared wonder-eyed at her cousin. Under no circumstance would he ever be a match for Julian. “Called him out?”

“Oh, he laughed at me. Fended me off,” he sighed. “Father said it was he that withdrew you out of the ball.”

Alyce could only nod. “Then you can see that I have nothing to fear from Julian. He saved me. Perhaps the situation is complicated, but know…”

“Why are you here, Alyce?” he asked with a careless wave of one hand. “I had heard you set with Tregilgas.”

“I told you before all is complicated.”

“But Casvelyn…Alyce…don’t. His heart is bent on revenge.”

“He sent me here, Tobias, away from London until all can be arranged. He is concerned, Tobias, about my safety. You may have gathered Leopold wasn’t happy to have your company. It is because no one is supposed to know of my whereabouts.”

“I would never harm you…” He stopped to compose his thoughts, staring broodingly at her. Then he startled her and walked around her, fell upon his knees and took her hands in his. “We were close. Were we not, cousin, before all happened? Then everything exploded. Life…life changed. Grandfather became bitter. Grandmother, it was said, died of her heart breaking. You were gone.”

His voice startled her with the pain seeping in his tone, but she refused to hear words uttered against her father. “Why? Why are you telling me this, Tobias? I don’t want to hear about how Father destroyed the family.” Tears crept into her eyes. Pressing her lips together tightly, she fought the tears back. “If that is your intent it is a waste of your time.”

He shook his head. “No, no, no, Alyce. I don’t blame Uncle George, Alyce. I never did. I know he was innocent, as does my father and Uncle Lionel. As did Grandfather.”

Her mouth opened in shocked silence. Her eyes froze on his face, searching for the meaning he was trying to convey. He released her hands and stood. His chest heaved heavily, as if he, too, fought emotions.

He began pacing back and forth. “I refuse now to be silent. Uncle George was good to me. He always was. I admired him. I still do. I have to protect you, cousin.”

“You have me so confused, Tobias. What are you talking of?” Alyce stood and halted him in front of her.

"No, no." He sounded incoherent. "I have to make you understand the danger you are in. Casvelyn wants only your money."

"He already has it, Tobias. He doesn't have to do all he has done. Do you understand?"

“It is you that doesn’t understand. Casvelyn is out for vengeance. He will not be happy until you are dead. You don’t believe me. I came only to save you, but I have proof.” He stood and grabbed tight her hand. “Come. I will show you.”

He gave her no time to protest, but led her down the garden’s path, heading straight for the ruins.

Her suspicions flared up like a torch. Immediately, she fought his hold, wanting only to stop him from dragging her to the ruins. Fear gripped her as never before. Tobias seemed oblivious to everything except showing her his proof. Oh, my God. He’s deranged!

“Stop! Tobias, I will scream!”

“Don’t, Alyce. He won’t like it. Don’t make him mad. Please, Alyce. He won’t help us.”

Wind began to swirl around them. Alyce dug her heels in the ground, hindering his intent. She sensed something was wrong, dreadfully wrong. Squirming and kicking to break free of the hands holding her, she asked breathless, “Who? Tobias, who won’t help us?”

The ground uneven beneath her, she slipped. Momentarily, he stopped to catch her. “Why are you fighting me, Alyce? It’s for your good. To protect you, as does he. He has been helping me help you. He respected your father and owes him. Don’t be afraid. Trust me.”

Steadfastly refusing to move, she demanded once more. “Who? For goodness sake, who?”

“Your father’s secretary, Fennimore.”

She screamed.

Struggling desperately to free herself from his strong, determined grip, the wind whipped around her. The ruins! He was taking her to the ruins! Hysterical beyond measure, she freed herself only to discover she stood on a ledge above the ethereal ruins. Scared senseless upon the recognition, the ground beneath her trembled. Tobias sprang towards her in the darkness. She leaped back. To her horror, the ledge crumbled under his weight and Tobias fell downward.

She crawled to the ledge. Not daring to stand, she looked down in the moonlight. Tobias lay motionless. She inched back a safe distance; frantically looking around, she caught her breath. Clutching her legs to her, her mind raced. She needed to get back to the manor for help. Then suddenly she heard a noise that seemed to be laughing at her.

The voice came from out of the shadows. She rose rapidly and whirled around in the darkness. The whole of her body stiffened as a form emerged out of the obscurity of the night. The devil. Fennimore.

He was as she remembered: short; clearly balding as seen by his wig slipping from his head; his clothing bland, a simple white ruffled shirt with dark pants. His face seemed ghastly  in the dim light. He smiled, a raw crooked smile exposing his weak chin covered with a shadow of a beard. His mouth opened in a grimace of triumphant laughter. She could not stop staring at him, especially his eyes…his wild bulging eyes. Suddenly the air of her own very mortal vulnerability enclosed around her.

“Fennimore,” she whispered in the wind.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. I do believe I have finally found you…and alone. More the better,” he laughed, a low, rasping ugly laugh that caused her heart to beat frantically. “For me.”

He walked toward her and grasped her arm. Leaving her little choice, he pulled her to him on wobbly legs. Her eyes frantically searched the dark for movement, any movement in hopes someone, anyone had followed her from the manor. Nothing. Only stillness. She recoiled back, but he caught her.

“Not so quick, my dear. You have been quite elusive. And here I thought you wanted to see me. I was under the impression you were searching for me. So here I am.”

“I need to go back. Tobias needs help,” she said in a desperate attempt to remain calm. “He’s not moving.”

He smiled, a smile verging on pure evil. “It is one less worry. Insignificant. So sad." His voice had the strangest note. "The poor lad had such a desire to save you. Didn't need much for him to believe your gallant knights that have done everything to save you were instead intending you harm. And look, he brought you to me. It is better this way, my dear, I assure you. Otherwise he would be most distressed and I would have had to put him out of his misery anyway."

She looked into his eyes with naked fear and saw only malice and hate. He was going to kill her. He laughed again, a shriek of laughter and madness. Only sheer will kept her in her spot and not fainting.

He reached over to her cheek and caressed it softly. “My dear, I’m afraid your situation is very precarious. You are the last link. One that I have waited for a very long time. I’m not going to rush, but savor every last second.”

“You have planned this all along?” she asked in a deceptively calm tone.

"Since the day she left me.” His voice, his intonation, sent shivers down her spine. “You look like her. You have her eyes.” Hatred and loathing oozed from his being as he continued. “You have the look of one confused. I don’t want you confused, Mary Alyce. I want you to understand completely. To understand the depths of destruction your father heaped upon you. You do know of what I speak? Of course you don’t. I would have expected little else. He doted on you so. I suppose you have grown up with the lie he created. It is their way. Nobility. To take what they want and be damned the consequences.”

“What did Father take? My mother?” The words whispered out of her mouth, for she had no breath.

“My wife! Hythe’s whore! Nothing more. She was my wife. My wife! In God’s sight! Was Hythe greater than God himself?” He cried out with vengeance. He looked straight down at her and laughed. “Which, my dear, makes you no more than a common bastard.”

Her heart chilled with his words. They were lies. They had to be. Her father would have told her. His gaze drifted over her and made her stifle a tremble inside her.

Her lips were so stiff she could hardly move them. “It is what you believe? You have caused this mayhem because you believe you have been wronged? You did all this to prove your significance?”

“Significance? I held significance at one time before…before your father. I lived in a fine mansion in Boston. Respected and revered until he destroyed my family. So it was only fair I destroyed his; not only his life, but his name, his family, and now you.” His face turned severe. “It was I. A simple insignificant man who brought it all down upon their heads! All.”

He lost himself in the moment, laughing, crazed in delight of his accomplishments. Demented. He squeezed her arm tighter as if to cut the blood flowing through it. The whistling wind turned cold. She was numb with terror and a freezing cold that had nothing to do with the temperature. The moonlight diminished while dark clouds gathered, thickening, overhead.

He laughed again. He cocked his head to see her expression. Fear gripped her once more. Her chest heaved heavily.

“My regret is that Elsie died before I could wreak my revenge upon her. Ah, you didn’t know your mother’s real name? Until he stole her, changed her name, but it did not change the fact that he took what was mine. Mine! He had no right. But he paid, as will you.”

“Should I?” she responded. She pressed against him in a vain effort for her freedom.    She’d been frightened; now fury overwhelmed her. “To what end? It has been eight years. You had everything you wanted. My father's dead...disgraced! And you want more!”

“For the sins of your father you, though guiltless, must suffer.” His voice carried over the shadows. “I searched for her. For years, I searched. I did not give up. I found her. I did, but she escaped me. She had died given birth to a bastard. And there he was crying by her gravesite. Crying! He had everyone fooled. Poor Hythe. I knew then what I had to do.

“At first, it was going to be simple and quick. It took time to gain his trust, but time was meaningless. Working beside him, I knew all his dealings and holdings. I posed as a Loyalist, but in truth I cared less about politics. It only served as a means to an end. Oh, it wasn’t easy in Charles Town. No, they were but a bunch of hot heads, where logic did not reside, only emotions. I thought all to have been set. I stirred up a bunch of rouge Patriots. It’s a skill to read people. To give to them what is needed to accomplish my goal. A raid commenced on his plantation outside of Charles Town but that damn Treadwell and Casvelyn ended it before it began. Then, to my utter disappointment, we left immediately for England.

“But it came to me that all happened for a reason. That it would be the ultimate revenge. Hythe gave it to me so easily. I handled the paperwork on his investigations. I made appointments for the connections needed with the Home Secretary. I dealt with his brother’s gambling problem. I used that fool Sinclair for a means to my end. The final straw upon Hythe's back. I had the walls closing in on him. I thought all was lost, though, when Casvelyn interfered again.

“He kept questioning the reports. Why the discrepancies? Some I had doctored. Others I hadn’t the time, but after Hythe confronted Sinclair, I had no choice. Hythe figured it out, that it was I causing the discrepancies. He even figured out who I was. That arrogant sinful aristocrat! Haughty! Puffed up on his own importance, with little thought of the ones beneath them.

“I wasted no more time. I shot him and waited for Casvelyn to return. The moment he entered, I shot him too. You would have been next, but you were gone. I ran, certain, I would be a wanted man, but then nothing. Nothing!”

His eyes bulged. The whites of his eyes flamed in the darkness. Madness! A low, evil chuckle escaped from his being.

“Surreal. All fell into place better than if I had planned it. Everyone tried to cover up their own secrets. Secrets! Sinclair, I knew well, would hide behind his father’s name, and the crown. The sniveling coward, but such a stroke of luck.

“Ironic, truly. All thought Hythe sold secrets. One of the richest men in England and all thought he sold his soul. Why? Because he hid the fact of his wealth to hide where he obtained it? Bloody bastards. Never let one think they worked for a living. Can’t get their hands soiled by a hard day’s work. Then these so-called gentlemen…Sir James could not defend his brother without revealing it was he who accumulated the gambling debts. Where was his honor?”

She stared at him in disbelief and shock. She glared at him while the desperate fury raged within her. She did not want to die. She had to live to tell all his tale, to clear her father, to see Julian again…she had to live.

“Now, my dear sweet Mary, it is time.”

“Julian will make you pay,” she spat at him. He slapped her hard across the face. She fell to the ground. She rose up on her arms. “You will wish you were dead!”

“Oh, no, my sweet. Although denied my vengeance on your mother, I can take it out on you. I’m afraid it is you who will wish for death quicker than it will come. Rest assured, I will arrange for your lover to find your body. And your friend, the marquess, he will find out the wrath his beloved society holds for him when they learn his secret. Oh, no, my sweet, I have plans for all who helped you…”

Malevolence personified loomed above her, reaching out his hand for her. Then suddenly the wind swirled while a fog rolled in and enclosed around them. An eerie feeling suffused within her. She felt a qualm as her skin prickled at the back of her neck.

Her blood pounded. Balancing on the edge, her legs readied to run. Words seemingly resonated within the swirling wind.

Run, Mary, run!

Scrambling to her feet, she felt a hand lunge for her, but it fell short. She bolted down the pathway to the old ruins. Grunts and curses rang in the air. She didn’t look back.

Alyce ran into the ruins. In the darkness she could not make out the path trails nor did she have time. Fennimore was fast behind her. Urged onward by her instinct to survive, she ran and ran down through the ancient columns and finally climbed over crumbling stones, scrapping and ripping her gown. Her feet were bared by the loss of her slippers during her run.

The ground felt hard beneath her. Gasping for breath, she crouched against the leaning darkness, praying he would not find her.

Clutching tight to her chest, she trembled with fear. She waited, hearing only the hammering of her heart. Glancing around wildly, only darkness surrounded her. The clouds above cloaked the moon, giving her a shroud of cover. Her mind raced. She scrunched tighter to the wall as she heard the leaves and twigs crack under the weight of booted footsteps upon them.

“I know you are here! It is useless to run,” he laughed, a low wicked echo. “I will have you. If you move you will fall. We are above the foundation of the abbey’s refectory. I’ve heard it said it drops twenty feet. One wrong step…and the rotten wood will give way…to your tragic end.”

His words echoed around her while his footsteps faded. She didn’t dare move or breathe. A rumble in the skies above her startled her. Soon it would rain. She had nowhere to run except across the ancient corridors. She couldn’t even see what lay ahead. To her horror, she could hear his footfalls once more and fear paralyzed her.

Soon he would find her. She stared in front of her. Run, she told herself. It could not be worse than the fate awaiting her, but she couldn’t move. Frightened, she turned to a sound. Lightning lit up the sky, only to illuminate a figure of a man bending down towards her. She screamed, scrambling backwards. He lurched at her and she rushed forward.

Without warning she caught sight of a form emerging in the mist. A vision or a dream? He stepped out towards her with his hand extended. So tall. So handsome. He smiled. She knew that smile.

Follow me. Now.

“Julian?” Mesmerized by the sight of him, she paused.

Not for long, for behind her a hand caught her leg. “Let me go!” she cried, kicking frantically at him.

Abruptly the wind howled and picked up in intensity. A branch from a tree broke above and landed beside them. She heard a cry. She didn’t dare look back. She scrambled upward. She was free. She ran toward Julian.

Run, Mary, don’t look back. Run.

Rain began to fall. She ignored it. Her only thought, her only need was Julian. He was here. She had to reach him. Rushing forward, she heard a crackling noise beneath her. Terror seized her. The ground beneath her gave way. She had no time to react.

She screeched, for her feet couldn’t find solid ground. She fell. Then just as abruptly, she hit something solid. Gripping it tightly with her shaking hands, she refused to let go. Turning ever so slightly behind her, she heard a shriek: a long, piercing shriek. Suddenly there was silence.

Alyce swallowed hard. Opening her eyes, all had quieted. The only sound was the slow patter of rain drops hitting against her, slowing itself to a drizzle. Another flash of lightning illuminated the sky. Looking down, her body lay tight to a large piece of wood, a beam, perhaps. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it would leave her chest. Looking down, she saw she sat high above a flooring of some sort.

She screamed, seeing a body lay sprawled out below, lifeless. “Julian! Julian!”

Fennimore, Mary. You are safe.

Her eyes glanced upward towards the voice. The ground was above her a good two to three feet. Oh, Lord, I’m going to die anyway!

“Julian! Don’t leave me.”

Leave? Not a Casvelyn man. Hold. Look by your hand. Remember what it stands for…remember.

"How? Why?"

It matters not. It matters only that all has been righted. Tell him....remember...

Down lying to the side of her arm, she saw the glitter. She grabbed it quickly. The medallion. She clutched it tightly in her hand, so much so it dug into her palm. She breathed easier. Help was coming. Do not look down. It is coming.

The words took her back...took her back to when she had first been brought to Evermonde. She had thought the lieutenant had left. She sat in the cold corridor, alone, waiting...waiting. He came back and sat beside her. It was then he gave her the medallion. Only then...

Alyce lost sense of time. Her body shivered from the cold rain, even after the drizzle ceased. She was so tired: so, so tired. She wanted nothing more than to sleep, but it would be certain death to release her hold.

Her eyes fluttered. Help was coming. He said help was coming. She wasn't by herself. She couldn't look up, but she could feel his presence.

Morning light filtered down. She blinked her eyes. Suddenly, she knew she was alone. Panic surged through her. Had she imagined all? Had she lost her sanity? In the distance, noise erupted, closer and closer.

“Julian! Julian, where are you? Where have you gone?” she screamed. Then she began to sob, uncontrollable sobs.

Oh, Lord, please. Julian had finally gotten help?

“Alyce! Alyce!” Julian’s voice rang clear around her.

“Julian, I’m here,” she screamed. Moving slightly, she could feel the wood beneath give. The whole of her body shook. The beam was about to fall.

Julian rode up to the manor tired, drenched, and thoroughly bad-tempered. He refused to lose more in his life. He refused to lose his life. Bloody hell, he sent her here to be safe! Safe! He didn’t care about anything at the moment: not his reputation, not his estate, nothing except her. For in truth, she was all he had.

With Sebastian by his side, he rode nonstop except to exchange horses. He hadn’t a clue how far General Treadwell and Tregilgas had traveled. He had only one thought. He rode possessed. He had never ridden his horse into the ground before, but he had never been so terrified of losing the only thing in his life that held meaning.

Time seemed endless. He hadn’t prayed in years, but he prayed relentlessly while he rode. Over the miles, he relived all he had lost. He remembered his grandfather telling him of his parents’ death. He had never seen his grandfather cry. He saw him cry that day. He cried holding the lifeless body of his brother…

Swiftly he dismounted and bounded up the steps, stopping only upon the sounds outside the manor. He rushed around the corner of the manor, glimpsing figures out toward the ruins. His fear was justified. Chaos imploded all around him.

His grandfather waved frantically to him. Leopold stood silently with a despondent gaze. Servants scattered all around as ants at a picnic. He raced through the entourage.

“Julian! Julian,” his grandfather cried to him. Stuttering, out of breath, he tried to convey the scene. “Her cousin came…We only just found him unconscious at the foot of the ruins. I’m afraid…I’m afraid I have failed once more…he has her. Julian, that fiend has her…”

Julian froze. In the early morning mist he stood frozen in the shadowed and gloomy entrance to the ruins. The remnants of the storm of the night before dissipated all except a slight breeze.

“Ssh! Listen!” Julian cried. Within the wind he swore he heard her voice. “Don’t you hear her? It’s Alyce. She’s here.”

Then without a thought, he rushed toward the voice, ignoring the pleas behind him.

“Slow, Julian, it’s dangerous.”

“She’s here, Sebastian. I feel it. Don’t follow…”

“Like bloody hell,” Sebastian said, not slowing a step. “You know your problem? You’re bloody stubborn. Stubborn. You’re going to get us both killed. Julian, we need to…”

Simultaneously both stopped in their tracks. Sobbing. They heard sobbing. Exchanging looks, both raced toward the sound.

“Alyce! Alyce!” Julian’s voice rang out.

Immediately he heard her voice, her lovely voice. “Julian, I’m here.”

His heart raced upon the sight. A large hole opened wide in front of him. Oh, Good Lord, she had fallen down into the abbey’s abyss. Roland and he had talked of finding it one day. A fantasy of the legend told with the ruins. This was no fantasy. He crawled upon his stomach to the opening.

No more than an arm’s length away, stranded on what seemed to be a support beam, she looked up. Disheveled, dirty, but alive…for the moment. He stared for the moment at the large drop, shadowed and gloomy; he made out a large motionless figure below.

“Stay there,” Sebastian called from behind him. “I’ll bring help.”

There was no time. Julian saw the beam shift. She caught his eye with a look of sheer terror. There was no time to plan, only react. He lunged.

With no method to his madness, he caught her hand. Her legs struggled to find footing, trying desperately to get to him. She half stood as he released her to gain a better hold. Then the beam broke loose. In one swift movement, he wrapped his arms around her waist. The beam collapsed. The ground began to shift around him. It was going to give way.

Oh, Lord, they were going to fall!

Then he felt strong hands gripping tight to his legs, helping in his effort, pulling him upward with his arms secure around Alyce. He refused to let go. He felt her feet scrambling to give support on the side of the collapsing wall, enough to help propel them up to the surface.

The next moment someone reached over and took Alyce from his arms. Tregilgas. Falling back against the ground, he had no time to contemplate the situation. The ground shook.

“Run!” Sebastian screamed at the top of his voice.

Julian moved only after watching Tregilgas carry Alyce in front of him. No one slowed until they stood upon solid ground above the collapsed ruins.

Chapter Twenty-One

Alyce remembered little about the moments after she had been saved. Arms…strong arms sweeping her out of Charles’s hold. The awareness of being carried; whispers in her ear. Then suddenly a sensation overwhelmed her.

“Oh, no,” she cried. “Put me down. Put me down now.”

Her feet barely touched the ground before she leaned over on her arms and cast up all that remained in her stomach. Oh, she was sick. She didn’t want to be sick. Someone leaned down and handed her a cloth.

She looked up. Julian. He stood in the morning light, staring silently at her as if she would disappear if he disturbed her. In that moment all came back to her, her fear of never seeing him again. She looked around. It was real. She wasn’t in the ruins clinging on for her life. He had come back. She blinked, unbelieving of the sight before her.

Her breathing slowed to a pace where she wasn’t certain she exhaled. Her trembling hand covered her mouth while her body surged with emotions upon his being before her. Water welled within her eyes, blurring her vision. Unheeded tears streamed down her cheeks, staring at the man she loved more than life itself. The man she convinced herself she would never see again.

At some point she breathed again. She must have, for she couldn’t catch her breath. He moved and in one stride he had her in his arms, embracing her, encompassing every single piece of her soul. She tried to speak his name, but her voice was lost in the fervor swelling within her.

He cupped her face in his large, strong hands. “My God, Alyce, I thought I lost you.” He bent down and kissed one cheek, and then the other. “I am never letting you out of my sight again.”

Her eyes blurred from the tears welling, escaping down her cheek, trying desperately to make sense of all around her. She whispered, “Then why did you leave me alone down there? Why?”

“Alyce,” Julian said, gravely glancing over at Sebastian. “I only just arrived. We rode the horses into the ground to get here. I would have never left you.”

“No, no,” she insisted stubbornly, trying to control her voice. “No. You were there. You told me to run, Julian. I followed you…when all collapsed you talked, calmed me in the storm. Told me not to let go. Help would come…and then you disappeared. Why did you leave me?”

Julian caressed her cheek, holding his hand against it. “My love, you must calm yourself. You have been through a horrible ordeal. Let me get you to your…”

“You weren’t there?” she asked in a voice no louder than a whisper. Confused, she opened up her fist where she still clung tightly to the medallion. “Then who gave me this?”

She watched Julian’s eyes widen in disbelief. Slowly he reached around his neck and pulled out the other medallion she left for him. He grasped hold of the one in her hand and stared at them both. “No, it couldn’t be.”

“He buried the medallion with Roland. How does she have it?” Colonel Tolworthy’s voice resounded around her.

She heard the words, but suddenly her head spun. She tried to fight off the faint sensation surrounding her, but in her next breath he swept her in his arms. Leaning her head against his shoulder was her last memory…

Abruptly, she woke. Dreams had assaulted her, dark, frightening dreams…Fennimore chasing her, falling into an abyss, clinging to the beam, not wanting to let go. She had to live. She had to.

“Alyce, you are safe.”

She glanced around for that voice. She had heard those words before. She looked up at his handsome face beaming down at her. His hand gently caressed her cheek. “The physician said you fainted, but it is to be expected with all you have gone through. In all, though, you should be fine. Although he asked me in confidence if perhaps you could be increasing.”

Her eyes broke from him. The thought hadn’t even occurred to her with all she had had on her mind. “Oh, Julian, what if…?”

“Then it would be the most wonderful of news.” He smiled a gentle smile with gleaming eyes. “I have the special license in my pocket, which well should have been used before this day.”

He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers. “Rest. All has been taken care of. When you feel up to it, questions can be answered. There is no immediate need. It is finally over.”

She gripped his hand. “Don’t leave me, Julian. I have to tell you all. You need to hear. Fennimore…Fennimore did all because…” She choked back her tears. He had to understand. She could not live with herself otherwise. “Oh, I can’t take any more secrets. He said that Mother was his wife. Which would mean…would mean I am a…”

Julian placed his finger over her mouth. “Do not utter that word. If you want honesty, then I will start with my confession. I have known. Your father told me. If the truth be known, your father and I had an agreement. We were arranging your marriage to Roland.”

Confusion reigned in her face. “I don’t understand. Why would you be arranging my marriage to your brother with my father?”

“There is much to explain, but simply, my darling, for a time, the time in Charles Town, I was my brother. I played the part of Lieutenant Casvelyn. It is complicated to explain, but there were reasons, good reasons, for the deception. You see, it is me who needs to beg forgiveness. At the moment all you need to understand is that your father’s name has been cleared.”

“But what of Sinclair and clouding of the crown’s involvement?”

“All has gone against Sinclair. The princes had no involvement. Never did. Fennimore had an art of reading people. He used it to blackmail them to do his will. With Sinclair, he helped the simpleton lay a foundation with the impression that might have led to the princes, but if anyone looked into the connection they would have found it led nowhere. Lord Sinclair also used that fear to cover for his son and his name. Moreover, he said he covered all to protect the crown. In truth, he did all to protect his name.

“Fennimore did the same with your cousin, except he used Tobias’s desire to save you to his advantage.”

“What happened to Tobias? He’s not…”

“No, he is recovering also. He has told us all he can.”

“What will happen to him? Julian, he thought he was saving me.”

“Perhaps it is because I have you safe beside me, I have become quite soft hearted. I will see that his future is set. I will settle the debts surrounding the estate as long as Sir James hands over Willow Haven to Tobias. I believe something can be arranged to ensure the security of the estate to Tobias. I believe your father would have wanted that.”

“Yes, I believe he would have.” She nodded her head. She knew he would. Looking down at the palm of her hand, she said, “Julian, there is still something that is bothering me. Was it all a dream? You being with me down in the ruins. Why did it feel so real? Why is my hand bruised?”

For a moment, he said nothing. He only stared at her, pressing his lips together tightly. He took her hand in his, brought it up to his lips and kissed it. “I don’t know. Grandfather said that given the circumstances it is reasonable that your imagination played upon you, giving you some reason to survive.”

“The medallion, Julian. Did I imagine the medallion?” she asked, drawing a deep breath in. She had to calm herself. It seemed so real. It was real…to her.

“No.” He shook his head. “It is real. Sebastian surmised that perhaps the medallion clung to someone’s clothing when paying their last respects to Roland and did not notice it. Falling to the way side at his burial. Or Grandfather said the medallions were replicas of one my father had. Perhaps it is the original long lost. Somehow it ended up within the ruins and when you fell you discovered it.”

“Julian,” she said pulling herself higher upon the bed. “That makes no sense.”

"To others it makes more sense than Roland coming back from the dead to save his brother’s love and gain revenge for his death.”

“Then you will think me mad for I know what I heard, saw, and felt. He gave it to me. He wanted me to believe that help would come, not to lose faith. I did not imagine…”

“Ssh…my darling. I do not doubt you, and if anyone could cross the line, it would be Roland. But it will do us no good to run on about it. Perhaps it will be our secret. One that we share.”

“You think I’m mad, but I think he protected me, Julian. He told me to remember. I do. I remember when I was taken here. I thought the lieutenant had left, but he came back. He gave me the medallion. I remember now what he said,” she said with frustration building.

“I know…I know…, Alyce."

"Do not try to pacify me, Julian.”

“I’m not.” He looked tired. He sighed deeply. “It is only others will never understand. If it did happen as we believe, it is best left between us. The result is all that matters. Trust me on this. It matters only that we know...that I know."

"Listen to me. Please, Julian. When I was given the medallion, he told me ‘Take this. He will understand and know. It holds to an undying oath.’ I thought he meant Colonel Tolworthy, but it was you he meant."

"Yes, it was." Julian slowly nodded. "I gave it to Roland before he was deployed. We exchanged medallions. I told him that nothing, not even an ocean, would divide us as brothers. It was our unbreakable bond."

"Not even death."

Alyce's ominous words resounded within the room. Julian made no protest to deny Alyce's thought. Instead he reached around his neck and pulled off one of the chains around his neck.

“Here.” He placed it over her head. She reached and gripped the medallion. “Wear it always as before, not for a reminder of a promise, but a reminder that you are loved dearly.” He leaned over and kissed her lips, lingering over them for a moment. “And, Alyce, I know that the medallion was in the coffin with Roland. I only placed it in there before it was closed. I wrapped it in his hands. There was no way it could have fallen out.”

Tears escaped down her cheeks once more. She didn’t know what was the matter with her or why it mattered so much he believe her. He reached over and with his long fingers brushed them away. Without another word, he climbed up onto the bed with her and wrapped his arms around her.

“I am so tired of holding guilt within me over Roland’s death, your father’s. I want to live, Alyce. I want to be happy. For the first time since the whole of this nightmare began, I can see a light. The light is you. Marry me. Love me. Live with me until we are old and gray.”

Alyce thought of the times in her life. Within her she, too, saw a light, a life with the man she loved more than life itself. She broke from him for a moment and wiped her eyes. Then she reached for his hand and placed it over her stomach. He pulled her to him. Contentment filled her. Peace. Hope. Love.

Epilogue

It was a day of celebration. Gideon Roland George Casvelyn, heir to his father, Lord Julian Gillespie Vernon Casvelyn, Earl of Pentilyon; Baron Casvelyn of Thasale; Baron Casvelyn of Roven; and Baron Casvelyn of Stufford had been christened less than two hours earlier. The south parlor of Evermonde, as opposed to a fashionable affair at Earl of Pentilyon’s townhouse in London, was exploding with excitement.

The child, having cried through most of the affair, slept soundly in his crib at the moment. His mother gazed down at her precious son. He was perfection: adorable, bald, fat, and altogether delightful in the way that most deeply-loved two month old babes are. She smiled, watching him purse his face until he found his tiny fist in his mouth. Caressing his cheek softly, she pulled away. She needed to return to her guests but she had to be assured of his ease before rejoining their company.

Julian’s pride burst forth with his son’s birth, but no more, Alyce thought, than it had when Charlotte Elizabeth had been born healthy two years earlier. Suddenly she heard a screech, a happy screech coming from the garden below the window. Her daughter, she had no doubt.

Alyce pulled back the curtains and watched her young daughter with Alyce’s dog, Lily, run screaming with delight across the lawn, being chased by her godfather. Charles caught the rambunctious two year old and swung her in the air to another screech of delight. Alyce laughed to herself. She laughed often these days. Marrying Julian had brought the contentment she had sought.

They had married quietly at Evermonde as soon as she recovered from her ordeal. Only a few attended the simple ceremony, but they were all the people she loved dearly. Charles had given her away in Julian’s family chapel on a beautiful bright day where the church was filled with vibrant blooms. Leopold, Lissa, Colonel Tolworthy, Sebastian with his wife, Henrietta, and even General Treadwell shared her moment.

Much had changed since she became Lady Alyce Casvelyn. All had taken time but the pieces had fallen together of the madman’s scheme. Julian investigated her mother’s past. More than a year later, her mother’s sister, Lillian Stuart, journeyed from Savannah to Evermonde by Julian’s invitation. She held answers to many of her unanswered questions.

“When your mother married Simon Fessenden, I had no idea that he had blackmailed her into doing so. I was younger by four years. Our father seemed to have made some extremely poor investments. Oh, Elsie - your mother - was the most beautiful woman in Boston. Much sought after. I have to admit I thought it strange she should have chosen such a man as Fessenden, but who was I to question. Your mother did not complain. That is, not until after our father died. Then she could take no more.

“By that time, I had fallen in love with a young gentleman from Savannah who had ventured up on business. Adam and I were waiting until after mourning to marry but one night I received a frantic note from Elsie. Adam came with me only to discover Elsie beaten half to death. We thought she would die. We did the only thing we could think of to save her. We took her and ran. He would have killed her if she stayed.

“Adam had relatives in the Carolinas…in Charles Town…we call it Charleston now. We took her there. Changed her name to Margaret  Benton. We had to. I learned quickly what a hideous monster her husband had been. I do not need to go into details; only know she suffered. After a couple of years, she met your father and fell madly in love. She tried to deny him, but being the man he was, he would not have it. She confessed all, but he took her as his wife anyway. He told her that in the sight of God they would be husband and wife. They married in a small church in Charleston. To all that knew them, they were husband and wife.

“Then tragedy struck when Elsie died in childbirth. After your mother died, I have to confess that I did not see much of you. I’m afraid my own life, children, and then the war interceded, but I thought you well cared for. Your father loved you greatly. I never dreamed that fiend would have attempted such a scheme.”

Strangely, Alyce found comfort in the words. She understood her father’s actions to do all because of the love one has for another. Her heart swelled greater with understanding when Charlotte was born. Never had she felt a love encompass her so completely.

Charles released her daughter and Alyce watched her path to her Aunt “Lizze.” Lissa’s arms opened and allowed Charlotte to crawl upon her lap. Lissa’s expression warmed as she kissed the toddler’s head full of blonde curls.

Alyce worried about her friend. Over the last years much had changed in Lissa’s life. Lissa refused to talk of it and she did not press. Few details Alyce had been told. She knew only that Lissa’s friend, Arthur Butler, had died suddenly, shortly after Charlotte’s birth. Without telling Alyce the reason, Charles and his father had removed Lissa from Breck’s household. Then abruptly Breck departed for the continent, never to return. A tad over eight months later news came of Thomas Breck’s untimely death. Alyce had seen the relief in Lissa’s eyes. Perhaps now, Lissa could put the past behind her.

Giggling and laughing, Alyce saw a head full of dark curls skirted down from Lissa’s lap and tottered over to her godfather. The little one waited until Charles plopped down into the chair before she extended her arms for Charles to pick her up.  And pick her up he did. Alyce found Charles to be extremely lenient with Charlotte. Spoilt her badly. One day, Alyce determined, she would have to put her foot down, but she had not the heart today. Tomorrow, she thought. Charles had so little time with her when Parliament was in session.

Charles had excelled in Parliament, having become quite influential, which Alyce never doubted. With Leopold still by his side, Charles seemed happier, more content than Alyce had ever known him to be. She suspected much had to do with his father. Although the duke would never acknowledge Charles’s preference in love, he accepted his son. The two had never been closer.

It helped also that his father remarried. Charles’s brother had been born late last year and another Tregilgas was expected by Christmas. The pressure upon Charles to find a wife and produce an heir had been lifted. He could live his life in the manner he chose for himself, if behind closed doors.

Julian had known, though, that Charles would always be a part of their lives. Alyce had made sure he understood. Julian had given his word that he accepted that fact. Although Alyce was certain at times he regretted that momentary lapse, Julian stood by his word. The two abided each other for her sake. In that, she could live with.

Life was never perfect. She supposed it was never meant to be. There would always be an obstacle in one’s way that one had to accept, but she was happy and content beyond any measurement of words. The past gave credence to this future and how precious every moment was. Her past…her past showed her that at times in life it was important just to survive. To hold on to the next day or the next, until you find that light.

Her hand unconsciously touched her necklace. She had never taken it off since the day Julian placed it once more around her neck. Often she thought about that night. She, too, would have thought it just her imagination played upon the longer time went by, if not for the medallion. Although nothing strange had happened since, the servants whispered of Roland’s ghost roaming around the ruins, protecting Evermonde and his family. In a strange way, Alyce thought they took pride in the fact the ruins were haunted.

The ruins themselves had been revamped. The dangerous cave-in had been expanded and sloped off. No longer was there danger of falling through. Fennimore’s body had been recovered. Julian had been adamant about finding it. She had never asked where it was buried. She didn’t care. To how and why all happened the way it did she may never have the answer. Perhaps, it was important only to accept somehow she survived.

She did not hear the door open to the nursery, but she immediately felt his presence. She did not turn, but reveled with his touch. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him.

“We have guests, Lady Casvelyn,” he whispered, nipping her exposed neck. “Do you realize, my lady, how long it’s been since we’ve made love?”

She turned and shot her husband a wicked glance full of laughter and desire. She whispered lowly, “As you said, we have guests…and you are going to wake our young son.”

“Ah, anticipation perhaps for this evening,” he countered, backing up to the crib and looking down at his son. His eyes burst with pride at the infant in his vision. He glanced back up at Alyce with a gleam in his eye.

“Now you have ruined my afternoon,” she said, taking her husband’s hand and leading him from the room. Closing the door gently behind her, she fell into her husband’s embrace, welcoming his kisses. Breaking from him for a moment, she uttered, “For all I will be thinking of is their departure or excusing myself after dinner. And you know it could go well into the night.”

“I’m certain I will think of something,” he said, grinning down at her.

She had no doubt he would.

Connect with Me Online:

Blog: http://colleenconnally.blogspot.com/

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Coming Soon- Broken Legacy by Colleen Connally

Fall 2012

Seductive Secrets was previously published as Daughter of Deceit by Carrie James Haynes

Other titles under Carrie James Haynes

Whispers of a Legend Saga

Whispers of a Legend, Volume I- Semi-Finalist in The Kindle Book Review

http://goo.gl/Y9WXy

Shadows of the Past

http://goo.gl/fb3NX

The Path Now Turned

http://goo.gl/HDk4A

Vision of Destiny

http://goo.gl/pmj6M

Titles under Jerri Hines

Winds of Betrayal Series

Book One-   Patriot Secrets

http://goo.gl/fiPZ7

Book Two-   Ruse of Love

Coming August, 2012