Annabel saw the headline and gasped, "Boothe heiress abducted-manhunt ensues."

"Oh, my God," she cried. And then, as she scanned the article, she felt her heart sinking like a stone. "Listen to this," she said, with anger. " 'Annabel Boothe is widely known to be an imprudent and impulsive character, given over to inclinations not suited to a gentlewoman.' And then this writer goes on to list some of my inclinations!"

"I read the article, my dear," Mary Anne said softly, not moving from the doorway where she stood.

"Well, at least they got some of it right." Annabel was dismayed. "But I never performed on the stage! Who told them this? Acting has never appealed to me!" Annabel looked at Mary Anne, aware of being exceedingly upset. Yet people had been talking about her for most of her life. Why did this nasty article dismay her so?

Mary Anne was silent.

Annabel also fell silent. She looked again at the dirty dishes by the sink, her heart lurching with dread. Then, with shaking hands, she scanned the newspaper column again. She froze. The writer went on to claim that dozens of witnesses had seen her willingly jump into the thief's motorcar. "Well." She forced a smile. "Once again it will be poor Annabel Boothe. Except this time I will not be around to hear the whispers and see the stares." Her gaze met Mary Anne's. "Will I?"

Mary Anne's gaze was pitying.

"Why are you looking at me that way? And where is Pierce? I mean Braxton?"

"St. Clare left."

Annabel knew she had not heard Mary Anne correctly. "What did you say?"

"Pierce left. He left at dawn with Louie."

Annabel stared at Mary Anne. The other woman's image became blurry. There was a roaring in her ears, a tingling in her limbs. The light in the room dimmed, becoming gloomy. "No," Annabel whispered, stricken.

Pierce could not have left her behind.

It was an impossibility.

Mary Anne was lying.

"My dear!" Mary Anne cried in alarm, rushing forward and gripping her arm. "You are turning a ghastly shade of green! Are you about to be sick?"

"He did not leave." Annabel looked at the other woman, about to be violently ill. She fought to contain her roiling stomach.

"I am so sorry. He has become a cad, Annabel, a horrid cad, and I will never forgive him for what he has done to you!" Mary Anne tried to put her arm around her, but Annabel pushed her away, swallowing bile.

"He made love to me," she said, bewildered. And images of the night before filled her mind.

"Pm so sorry," Mary Anne whispered, tears forming in her eyes. "Pierce is not this way. I do not understand any of this."

The memories continued to flood her mind, memories of his touch, his kiss, his smile, the look of love in his eyes. All lies.

"Oh, God," she cried, and then she was running to the back door, throwing it open, and flinging herself onto her knees on the stoop, where she retched convulsively again and again.

And when the heaves ended, she found herself gripping the stoop, panting, tears beginning, splinters becoming embedded in her fingers. But that pain was nothing at all compared to the pain of his betrayal.

He had used her. He had left her. Last night had been nothing but a lie.

Annabel thought she might die.

Chapter Five

Two years later, Bar Harbor, Maine

There was a mist in the air, and Annabel was quite certain it would rain.

She carried her shoes and stockings in her hand as she picked her way across the short stretch of beach which was behind the Acadia, the very fashionable resort where she had just arrived yesterday evening. The small inlet was very popular with the hotel's guests, Annabel had been told, but the rules were very strict. Male bathers were allowed until two in the afternoon, female bathers after that. It was not quite one p.m.

But there was no one about today because of the weather. Annabel paused at the head of the narrow path that would take her back to the hotel, glancing around and sniffing the fresh, slightly tangy air appreciatively. The small section of beach was a part of one of the island's many inlets, and everywhere Annabel gazed she saw soaring cliffs and pine forests. Not far inland, she could make out one of the island's tallest mountains. A pair of eagles were soaring overhead.

And for one moment she forgot the past and she smiled, watching the spectacular birds. Then her smile faded and she started up the sandy path that led to the sweeping lawns behind the hotel, her muslin skirts whipping around her. She was questioning her judgment in accepting Lizzie's invitation to join her sisters and their husbands for the month of August. Supper last night had been a disastrous affair.

She should have gone to Europe, alone.

Where no one knew her, by damn.

A drop of water landed on her forehead, another on her nose. Annabel increased her pace. The large, whitewashed hotel with its long verandah and green shutters was ahead. Annabel saw a few couples leaving the verandah as the temperature dropped and the wind picked up. Then she saw a woman in a bright yellow dress waving madly at her.

Annabel smiled because she recognized Lizzie, who was as big as a cow. Her second child was due in two more months. "Hi," she said, arriving on the back porch beside her sister.

"Isn't the beach beautiful?" Lizzie said, but she looked worried, despite her smile.

"Yes, it is," Annabel said, sitting down on a wicker chair to don her stockings and shoes. She had tar and dirt on her feet.

"Well, there you are, we are waiting for you," said a disapproving voice behind them.

Annabel looked up to find Melissa standing in the doorway, her hands on her slim hips. "You didn't have to wait for me," Annabel replied.

"Annabel, you are not allowed down at the beach until after two o'clock!" '

Annabel stood up. "For God's sake, Missy, calm yourself. It's about to pour! No one was there."

"You will never find a husband if you continue to break all of the rules," Melissa retorted. "Sometimes I wonder just what goes on inside your head.",

"I don't want a husband," Annabel said as sharply, pushing past her to walk inside. A huge green and gold carpet covered the library floor. The room was empty, for it was dinnertime.

"Please don't fight," Lizzie cried, following them as they left the library and entered the dining room. "But Annabel, maybe you should obey the hotel's rules. They are very explicit."

"Everyone thinks you are fast, Annabel," Melissa said.

Annabel paused and turned sharply, so that she was nose to nose with her lovely sister. She smiled sweetly. "I know. And I don't care. Besides, it's the truth, isn't it?" She stared, knowing she was being belligerent, but unable to stop.

Lizzie grabbed Annabel's arm. "Ssh! Everyone is staring. Please, do not argue now." And she gave Melissa a stern look. "And please do not use that horrid word again in conjunction with our sister."

"You are always on her side," Melissa huffed, and she went to their table, sitting down beside John, who had jumped to his feet.

Annabel and Lizzie exchanged glances. "Do forgive her terrible mood," Lizzie finally said. "You know how upset she is right now."

"I am trying to be compassionate, but she makes it so very difficult," Annabel said. "The fact that she cannot conceive is not my fault-yet she is taking it out on me."

Lizzie nodded unhappily and took her hand. "Just ignore her," she whispered as they approached their table.

Adam was standing, waiting for them, and he smiled at both Lizzie and Annabel, holding out their chairs for them. "Isn't this place spectacular?" he asked Annabel. "Have you ever seen such views?"

Before she could respond and agree with him, at least about the countryside, Annabel realized that two couples at the very next table were openly staring at her. They had been as rude last night at supper. The women were about her own age, but they sported huge diamond rings on their left hands and had several young children with their nursemaids at an adjoining table. They were talking in hushed tones, but Annabel knew what they were saying. She could hear them. She was quite certain the ladies wished for it to be that way.