"Come and sit down, Henry," he said without looking lip.

Henry felt a twinge of unease. His voice was not the voice of last night's lover. She crossed the room' and sat uncomfortably on the edge of the chair that was across the desk from him.

Eversleigh carefully put down the quill pen he was using, pushed together the pile of papers in front of him, and finally looked up at his wife. His eyes were hooded behind half-closed lids.

"I owe you an apology," he said stiffly.

Henry was too shocked to reply. But her hands were suddenly cold. She clasped them together in her lap.

"I made you a promise on our wedding night," Eversleigh continued, "and I broke that promise quite shamefully last night. I had been worried about your safety and wished to punish you, I suppose. I regret the lapse, ma'am, and assure you that it will not happen again."

"But Marius, I didn't… " she began.

He held up an imperious hand to silence her. "I told you that you would be expected to perform the duties of a wife as soon as we retire to Kent for the summer," Eversleigh continued. "I find, on reflection, that it is distasteful to force my attentions on an unwilling partner. I wish you to know, Henry, that you may retain my name and my protection for as long as you wish, but you owe me nothing in return. Until you say the word, I shall not touch you again."

"Oh," said Henry, leaping to her feet and putting her hands on her hips, "so I do not measure up to the standard set by Mrs. Broughton, do F'

Eversleigh's body became completely motionless; his eyes became icy. "Would you care to explain that remark, Henry?" lie asked softly.

"You thought I did not know, did you not?" she said, eyes flashing. "You thought me naive. I am not a child, Marius. I know she is your mistress and has been for a long time. I have seen you with her on several occasions. She is very feminine, with that tiny waist and large bosom."

"Who has told you all this, Henry?" he asked, still in the maddeningly calm and soft voice. "Cranshawe?"

"Oh, I do not need hire to point out the obvious to me," Henry said. "I know that, with my figure, I cannot compete." She held her arms out and looked down on her own slim body. "You must have found me very disappointing last night."

"Must I, my love?" he asked, the old gleam showing in his eyes for a moment.

"Yes. And do you know what?" she asked. rhetorically. "I am glad! You know I hate to be touched. When you kiss me, I feel like rushing to the nearest washbasin and plunging in my face. And what you did to me last night was quite repulsive. I think I should run away if I felt that I would have to be subjected to that at your pleasure. Keep your Mrs. Broughton. Perhaps she will help keep your lecherous hands off me!"

Eversleigh put his palms on the desk and rose to his feet, keeping his eyes on her. He came around the desk. For one moment Henry thought he was coming to her and she did not know whether she would spit in his face or ignominiously grab his lapels and soak his neckcloth with her tears. But he walked across the room to pour himself a brandy. He stood silently, with his back to her, while he drank it.

"Am I dismissed, your Grace?" she asked tauntingly.

"No, Henry," he replied, turning to face her. His expression was impassive, almost mocking. "I wished to ask you one more question, though now is perhaps not the best time." He put his empty glass down on the table and walked over to the fireplace. He rested one elbow on the mantel and looked steadily across at her. She was still standing in front of the desk.

"Are you in any kind of trouble, Henry?" he asked.

"Whatever do you mean?" Henry said with an artificial little laugh.

He pondered. "I have a feeling that there is something you will not tell me," he said carefully, "something that worries you.

She laughed again. "What would worry me?" she asked.

He watched her steadily. "I wish you would tell me, if I may help you," he said. "I know you feel bitter toward me this morning. You feel, and rightly so, that I have betrayed you. But believe me, Henry, when I tell you that I have the highest regard for you. And you may trust me, you know."

Henry stared, her mind churning in confusion. Her brain was telling her that here was the perfect opportunity to unburden herself, to get herself out of a fix. Her heart was reminding her that her husband had used her the night before and found her wanting. He cared nothing that he was leaving her emotions bruised and raw this morning. She did not doubt that he would help her. But she would not be beholden to such a man. She would fight her own battles, as she always had. She lifted her chin and looked directly into his eyes.

"What nonsense you speak, Marius!" she said. "May I leave now, please, or it will be too late to ride."

Eversleigh's mouth relaxed into what for him passed for a smile, Henry supposed.

"Run along, my love," he said. I have taken enough of your time for one morning, it appears."

Henry considered slamming the door behind her when she left, but decided that doing so would be a childish gesture. She closed it quietly and stood outside the library for a few. moments, head and heart thumping. What had happened in the last few minutes had been so totally unexpected and so completely agonizing that she did not know quite how to cope at present.

The butler approached her before she moved away. He held a letter on a salver. "This was delivered a few minutes ago, your Grace," he said deferentially. "I was to deliver it into your hands."

"Thank you," she replied absently, taking the letter and climbing the stairs wearily to her room. She sat down in front of the mirror and stared disconsolately at her own image. Strange! She looked the same as she had when she went down to breakfast-how long ago? Was it only little more than an hour ago that she had left this room so full of hope and happiness? She had not dreamed that her newfound love would be so effectively shattered in such a short time. How she hated him! He had spoken to her once about his "animal instincts." And that was all they were. He must have been delighted the night before when she had started to cry and been so vulnerable. He had certainly been very quick to take advantage of the situation. And while she had held him and opened to him and called his name, because he was Marius and the man she loved, he had merely been using her as almost any man would use a woman who was so obviously available But he certainly did not consider her worth a repeat performance. Henry ground her teeth in mortification. Would she never learn not to trust any man-at least not with her emotions?

She crushed into a wad the letter that she still held in her hand, then realized what she was doing. She smoothed it out again on top of the dressing table and broke the seal. The letter was from Oliver, she saw when she glanced down to the signature. She read:

My dear Henry,

I cannot tell you how deeply I regret my behavior of last evening. I can only plead the effects of overindulgence in wine. You must know that I hold you in deep regard. Surely I have proven my devotion to you. But I do not intend to remind you of any obligation.

Please meet me in the park this morning. I shall ride there until noon. I must speak with you. I should regret having to call at the house, as I know you would be distressed should Marius find me there.

I shall be awaiting the pleasure of your company.

Your obedient servant,

Oliver Cranshawe

Henry crumpled the paper again and threw it to the floor. The rat! Could he seriously believe that she would ever trust him again? After what he had said and done the night before? Was ever a girl so unlucky as to encounter two such unprincipled men on the same night? But she would have to go, Henry realized. The threat in the letter had not been so subtle. She knew that Oliver would come to the house if she refused to -meet him elsewhere. She crossed reluctantly to a closet and pulled- out her chocolate-brown riding habit and the matching hat with the gold and bronze plumes. At least she would look her best. She was not going to let Oliver Cranshawe know that he had her worried.