"And is she in?" he inquired, when the landlady seemed uncertain how to proceed.

"Oh, yes, sir. She has a lady with her, I believe."

Marcus frowned at this, wondering who could be visiting Judith here. "Perhaps you'll show me up."

"Yes… yes… of course, sir. Dora, escort the gentleman."

"Thank you." Marcus moved to the staircase, then paused, one hand on the newel post. "Lady Carrington will be leaving immediately. If you would have her account made up, I'll settle it directly."

Lady Carrington! Confusion and excitement played over Mrs. Cunningham's countenance. "But, sir, nothing was said by Mrs. Dev-I mean, Lady…"

Marcus held up a hand, halting the tangle of protestation. "Nevertheless, ma'am, Lady Carrington will be leaving directly. I am Lord Carrington, you should understand."

Mrs. Cunningham gulped, curtsied. "Yes, my lord… I didn't know…"

"How should you?" he said gently, turning to follow Dora's bouncing rear up the stairs. At Judith's door, she raised her hand to knock with a flourish.

"No, I'll announce myself," he said swiftly. He waited until the disappointed maid had retreated down the stairs, then he opened the double doors.

Judith and Sally were sitting head to head on the window seat, deep in intense conversation, and both looked up as the door opened.

Judith stared at her husband, her color fluctuating wildly. "Marcus?" she whispered, as if unsure whether he was real or a vision.

"Just so," he agreed. "It seems I must be the only person in London not invited to visit you in your self-imposed seclusion." He heard the caustic note in his voice as he frowned at his sister-in-law. He'd prepared for this moment with great care, but Sally's presence threw all plans into disarray.

Sally had jumped up and instinctively moved closer to Judith, who managed to ask in a cracked voice "What are you doing here, Marcus?"

"I've come to retrieve my wife," he replied, shrugging out of his cloak. "Sally, I must ask you to excuse us." He held the door in wordless command.

Sally hesitated, then stepped even closer to Judith. "I'm sorry, Marcus, but I'm here at Judith's invitation." She met his astounded stare without flinching, her shoulders stiffening as she prepared to defend her friend against all comers, including irate husbands.

First Charlie and now Sally, Marcus thought with resignation. What on earth had got into his usually docile family these days? Silly question… Judith's influence, of course. He repeated calmly, "Nevertheless, I must ask you to excuse us."

"No," Sally said, closing her lips firmly.

Marcus began to laugh. "My dear Sally, what do you think I'm going to do?"

"I don't know," Sally replied. "But I'm not going to stand aside while you bully Judith."

Marcus's jaw dropped at this, and Judith recovered the power of speech. "It's all right, Sally. Why don't you wait downstairs for a few minutes?"

Sally looked between them as if assessing the risks, then she said doubtfully, "If you're sure…"

"Sally, I don't want to have to put you out," Marcus exclaimed in exasperation.

"That's exactly what I mean," Sally fired back. "Judith, do you really want me to leave?"

Judith had sunk back onto the window seat, covering her eyes, aware that she was on the verge of hysterical laughter. "Yes, really," she said in a stifled voice. "Marcus won't hurt me. Anyway, I've got my pistol."

"Well, if you're sure. I'll be downstairs, so just call if you need me." Sally marched to the door, shooting Marcus a darkling look as she passed him.

"Good God!" he said, closing the door behind her. "I always thought she was such a mouse."

"That's because you intimidate her," Judith said. "She's not like that at all. She's bright and funny, and a lot cleverer than either you or Jack could ever guess."

"Well, if she was intimidated just then, you could have fooled me," Marcus observed with a rueful chuckle. "I wish I knew why people imagine I'm going to do you some mischief. They've clearly never looked down the muzzle of your pistol." He took off his gloves, tossing them with his cloak onto the sofa.

Judith watched him in silence. He seemed in great good humor but that was surely impossible. For herself, her emotions were in such turmoil she didn't know what she felt.

After regarding her for a minute, Marcus said, "You really are the most exasperating creature, lynx. What on earth do you mean by running off like that? How the hell was I supposed to explain it?"

"I'm not particularly interested in how you explain it," she declared. "I'm not coming back."

"Oh, but you are," he said.

"I am not coming back to live in that prison you would construct for me!" she said, her throat closing as the hurt resurfaced. "You care only for appearances. Well, I don't give a tinker's damn for appearances, Car-rington. You'll think of something to salvage your precious pride and keep up appearances, I'm certain of it." She swung away from him toward the window. "Just leave me out of it."

"Come here," he commanded.

Judith didn't move from the window, where she stood staring out at the scudding clouds, the stark lines of the bare elm trees, a black crow sitting on the wall at the bottom of the garden.

"Come here, Judith," he repeated in the same level voice.

She turned slowly. He was perched on the scrolled arm of the sofa and his eyes were quiet as they looked at her, his mouth soft. He beckoned, and she found herself moving across to him as if in response to gravity's pull.

He stood up as she reached him and reached out one hand, catching her chin. "Why didn't you tell me the truth?"

"What truth?" Her eyes seemed locked with his and the warm grasp of his hand on her chin seemed imprinted on her skin.

"That you didn't know who was in the taproom."

Shock flashed in her eyes. "How do you know?"

"Sebastian told me."

She jerked her chin out of his hand. "He had no right…"

"Nevertheless, he told me," Marcus said, reaching for her again. "Keep still and listen to me. It was unforgivable of me to assume the worst of you. I only wish you'd lost that formidable temper at the outset and put me in my place at once."

He smiled, but there was a hunger and a yearning in his gaze. "It was unforgivable, lynx, but can you forgive me?"

Sebastian had betrayed her. He knew the real reason why she hadn't been able to deny Marcus's accusations, and he'd chosen to ignore them in order to patch things up. Because of Gracemere? Because of Harriet?

"Say something," Marcus begged, running a finger over her mouth. "Please, Judith, say something. I can't let you leave me, my love, but I don't know how else to apologize. It was torment believing you had taken advantage of me, that you were only using our passion to your own advantage. It drove me insane to think I was no more to you than a means to an end. Can you understand that at all?"

"Oh, yes," she said softly. "Yes, I can understand it." And yet even now as his words filled her with sweet joy, she knew that she continued to deceive him. He was still a means to an end, and yet he'd become so much more than that.

"Judith?" Marcus said, softly insistent. "I need more than understanding."

She grasped his wrist tightly. "It's over. We'll put it behind us."

Marcus brought his mouth to hers in a hard affirming kiss. Judith clung to him, desperate to grasp whatever happiness they could have in their remaining time together. Desperate to believe that there was a chance he'd never find out about Gracemere.

"How did you find me?" she asked, when finally he raised his mouth from hers.

"Through Sebastian." He smiled down at her, touching the line of her jaw with a lingering finger.

"He didn't tell you!"

"Not in so many words. I had him followed."