Henry ended up spending the whole afternoon with Giles. He was overjoyed when she handed him the money with which to pay off his debts, once he had ascertained to his own satisfaction that she had had no trouble raising the money and that she had not had to apply to Eversleigh for it. He swore to her that his gambling days were at an end, that he had finally learned his lesson. As a celebration, brother and sister decided on an excursion to Kew Gardens. They took the twins with them.

As a result, it was late in the day before Eversleigh held the promised meeting with his wife. She had dressed early for dinner and had come down to join him in the drawing room.

"Some ratafia, my love?" he asked, resting his own glass on the mantel and crossing to the sideboard.

"Ratafia, pooh!" she said. "That is for girls. I shall have some Madeira, please, Marius."

"Yes," he said dryly. "I always forget that it is the greatest insult to treat you like a girl, Henry." He handed her a glass of Madeira.

Henry sipped it and found herself admiring her husband's appearance. He was dressed for Lady Sefton's ball in black satin knee breeches and coat, silver waistcoat, and sparkling white linen, lace covering his hands to the knuckles, his neckcloth arranged in an elaborate shower of folds. A diamond pin in the neckcloth and the inevitable quizzing glass on its black riband were his only adornments. His dark hair was brushed forward into waves around his face. His blue eyes regarded her steadily from beneath lowered lids. Henry started and blushed. 'She had caught herself out in the act of wondering how her hands and breasts would feel against the linen if she were to step forward and push aside his coat. What an extraordinary thought!

"Will I pass muster, Henry?" he asked, his eyes taking on their amused gleam.

"Oh, assuredly so," she said. "You will be the handsomest man at the ball, as always, Marius."

His eyebrows rose. "Splendid!" he said: "I would respond in kind, my love, if I did not know that you would call me absurd or silly or-what was it that one time?-stupid!"

"Oh!" she retorted. "It is unkind of you to remember that. "

"Come and sit down, Henry," Eversleigh said, growing noticeably more serious and directing her to a sofa. He sat beside her. "I wish to talk to you."

"I perceive it is about my being with Oliver in the park yesterday," Henry said tightly, having decided to take the offensive.

He regarded her gravely. "Why have you chosen to disregard' my wishes, Henry?" he asked.

"I will not be ruled," she cried passionately. "I know that when I married you I became your property, Marius. I know that you have all the powers of a husband over me. But you cannot expect me to like it or to give in meekly to a situation of which I do not approve."

"Strong words, my love!" he said calmly. "Have I given you cause to consider me a tyrant? Do I curtail your freedom? Do I beat you?"

"No," she replied, her agitation by no means cooled. "You have been very good to me, except in this one thing. You asked something of me and gave me no reason except that it was your wish. And now you are bringing me to task because I have not obeyed. And I would guess that your next move will be to command me not to be sociable to Oliver and to threaten me with dire consequences if I continue to disobey. Well, I will not do it, Marius." She rose to her feet and glared defiantly down at him. "Oliver has been kind to me, and I like him, and there is nothing improper in our meetings. I shall have to take the consequences of going against your commands. But turn away from his friendship I will not." -

"Will you not, my love?" he asked softly. He sat and gazed steadily up at her for a long while until she sat down again, feeling rather foolish at having allowed her temper to flare. Eversleigh continued to sit silently for a few minutes. Finally, he took her hand in one of his and with his other hand stroked along each finger.

"It was, of course, wrong of me to require anything of you without giving a good reason, he said at last. "You must remember, my love, that I am new in the role of husband. Since I lost my parents in a carriage accident when I was sixteen years of age, I have been accustomed to giving orders and to having them unquestioningly obeyed. And then I, er, bumped into you, or was it the other way around?".

Henry said nothing. She kept her eyes on his hand, which held hers, and on his slim, well-manicured fingers playing lightly with hers.

"Will you stay away from Oliver Cranshawe if I can convince you that it is for your own safety?" Eversleigh continued. Henry glanced up into his face, startled. "Believe me, I am not being melodramatic," he assured her.

"I cannot say until I hear what you have to say," Henry said. "I cannot think that anything you say will convince me. Oliver has proved kind to me."

"You are incurably honest, are you not, Henry?" Eversleigh said, turning her hand and clasping it in his. I see that I must tell you what I swore not to tell anyone, because I have no proof for my suspicions."

Henry looked inquiringly into his face.

"I have never told you anything of my family, have I, Henry?" he began.

"I assumed you had none," she replied.

"And neither have I-now," he said. "Oliver is my closest relative on my father's, side. He is the son of my father's sister. His parents died when he was a child. He spent most of his youthful years with us at Everglades. The three of us were very close Oliver, my brother, Stephen, and I."

"You have a brother, Marius?"

"Had, my love. We did everything together. We frequently had friendly arguments about the succession. Oliver pretended to be angry because he was third in line to the dukedom, behind me and Stephen-although his mother had been older than my father. At least, it seemed to be a joke, though after the untimely death of Mama and Papa and I succeeded to the title, I often had the uneasy feeling that Oliver was perhaps seriously bitter."

"But that is absurd," Henry said. "He seems not to mind at all."

Eversleigh took her empty glass, crossed to the sideboard, and poured them each a second drink. When he sat down again, it was in a chair a little removed from hers.

"I went to university and then spent several months of each year in London," he continued. "Finally I joined… a certain club. You would consider it absurd, my love, and you would be quite right. It was youthful folly. The only condition for membership was that each candidate swear to remain single for the rest of his life."

Henry stared. "Then how came you to marry me?" she asked.

"That is another matter entirely," he replied. "Oliver and Stephen, as young men will, took the matter very seriously when I announced my membership to them. And I remember jokingly pointing out that only Stephen stood between Oliver and an almost-certain future claim to the dukedom. Stephen was only nineteen at the time, but he fancied himself in love with a neighbor's daughter. He seemed in hourly expectation of making a declaration."

He paused and took a long swallow of his drink.

"And?" Henry prompted.

"And he died in a riding accident before he could make that declaration," Eversleigh said harshly. "We were on a hunt. His saddle strap broke when he was jumping a fence. He broke his neck."

Henry found that she was having difficulty breathing. "You suspect that Oliver had something to do with it?" she almost whispered.

"Oh, he was nowhere near when it happened," he said. "The saddle strap was badly worn through."

"It was an accident, then?"

"Stephen was a very keen and careful horseman. He would let no one tend his horse or his gear for him. A knife could have been used carefully enough to give the impression of fraying."

"But you believe Oliver did it?" she asked, wide-eyed.