Fifteen

It had seemed the way of it in ages past and probably would be the way of it in future times. Trouble followed trouble; so, too, sorrow and death. At times, the end of life came singularly, other times in pairs or in much greater numbers. No one could predict the whys and wherefores, or even when or where the dark-cloaked reaper would appear. The only thing that was certain was that he would eventually come to everyone; no one was exempt or excluded. There was, after all, a time to live, and, inevitably, a time to die.

The schism between Colton and Adriana grieved Philana so deeply that she nearly shut herself up in her chambers the day following Christmas, but that, of course, was not the English way or the exemplary conduct of a marchioness. She had to carry on stoically though the burden on her heart seemed too weighty to bear. It was doubly hard when word came that her niece, the young woman's husband, and their newborn had been killed when their coach had broken away from their four-in-hand and overturned as it rolled into a ravine. It was another painful death blow that had struck hard at the hearts of Philana and Alistair. Only a thrice of years ago, they had grieved over the passing of their sister and then, three months later, theirbrother-in-law. The couple had left only one child, a vivacious young woman who, in recent years, had married a viscount, whose own parents of late had also died. What made the deaths of the younger couple and their child more difficult to bear was the fact that they had met their end just outside of London after a band of discontented soldiers, who had been cashiered from the ranks to mete out a shoddy existence in the slums, had taken out their spite on the first available aristocrat, who had himself lost an eye in an earlier campaign against the French.

Relatives and friends of the Kingsleys gathered in London for the funerals, and it was at this sad event that Philana was able to speak with Adriana, who had journeyed with her parents to their London home near Regent Park, where they had met up with her sisters and their husbands before attending the funeral.

"Edythe was barely twenty," Philana explained through the gathering thickness in her throat. "She must have died shortly after giving birth, for the child was very much as he would've been had no one given Edythe aid during his birth … except that the cord had been cut and tied. Perhaps one of the soldiers took pity on Edythe and delivered her son. Of course, no one will ever know now what really happened. Even so, it was such a terrible waste of innocent lives. ‘Tis difficult to understand why soldiers, once loyal to this country, would have gone after their coach. Courtland Kingsley had proven himself a courageous soldier in prior conflicts with France, but after the loss of his eye, he had to resign his commission because of his limited vision. Still, his own men had honored him as a valiant officer who had been willing to fight right alongside them." Her lips trembled as her sorrow welled forth, and when Adriana reached out to take her hand in gentle empathy, the elder clutched at it, as if in a moment of hopeless despair.

When Adriana later sought out Samantha among those at the cemetery, she found her friend leaning heavily upon the arm of her brother who was escorting her from the gravesite. The women embraced each other desperately for a long moment as Samantha struggled to contain her sobs. When finally Adriana stepped back, she kissed her friend's tear-streakedcheek and then acknowledged Colton's searching gaze with a sad smile and a stilted nod as he tipped his hat politely. His eyes, however, spoke volumes, but she was deaf … and blind to the pleas they conveyed.

Colton lowered his teacup to its saucer and considered the strained smile his mother had pasted on her delicately structured face. As much as she made the pretense, she couldn't hide the anguish that for the last week had been tormenting her. Her niece's tragic death had been difficult for her to bear, but he was painfully aware that her distress had begun well before then, when he had told her about Adriana's stoic dismissal. He had carefully couched his words, desiring to spare his parent the anguish that ofttimes comes with the failure of heartfelt aspirations. Since then, the sadness in her blue eyes and their frequent mistiness had evidenced the morose depths of her despair.

It wasn't that he hadn't expected his mother to react in such a manner. Indeed, he had feared much of what was happening would come to pass after learning of his father's decree. The fact that it had been compounded by the deaths of Edythe and her small family made it even more arduous. Adriana had been his parents' only choice for a daughter-in-law. She had been like a daughter to them, and the very real possibility that those expectations would never come to fruition now was too bleak a prospect for his parent to accept without suffering the pangs of deep regret.

"I must ask you something," Philana announced quietly, studying her teacup intently as she returned it to her saucer.

"Yes?"

"Did you ever visit Edythe when you were in London this past year?"

Colton's brows gathered in bemusement. "No, I'm afraid after my departure from home years ago, I never saw her again. Why do you ask?"

"I ask because of a mark the physician's found on the newborn's backside."

Sitting back in his chair, Colton stared at his mother in growing bewilderment. She didn't have to say anything more. "But how can that be? She was not kin to the Wyndhams. Neither was Courtland."

"How well I know that," Philana murmured, and then struggled to present an intrepid smile, but it was tremulous at best. "Not unless your father …"

Colton refused to hear her conjecture. "Father would never have touched Edythe … or any other woman. You were the only one he ever loved … or, for that matter, desired. I never once saw him look at another woman in the manner you suggest. I may've had my failings, Mother, but Father was faithful and true in everything he did. He took me to task too many times in my youth for my own propensity to cavort rather freely with the girls, and he reminded me fairly often that it was not a gentleman's way for me now to believe that he'd have gone against his own moral code."

"Then how would you explain the presence of such a mark on the newborn's backside?"

"Did you see it for yourself?" Colton pressed.

"Of course not. As you know, they wouldn't allow the caskets to be opened because of the length of time…." She clasped a hand over her mouth as she felt her gorge rise.

Colton reached out and, resting a hand upon his mother's, did his best to reassure her. "Then obviously what the physicians described was not the same that I bear now or what my father bore before me. I am the last of the Wyndhams, and even Latham cannot claim the mark, because his forebears before him never did. I cannot tell you how very, very sorry I am that I didn't take more pains to protect my family's honor. Foolishly I believed Pandora couldn't have children and that it was safe to be with her. I have been caught in a trap of my own making, and nothing, absolutely nothing I can say now can erase my error in judgment. My daughter is an innocent victim, and because I couldn't bear to think of one of my own suffering the plight of bastardy, I am where I am. If I were given a chance to do it all over again, I would never have bedded hermother, but as for allowing an innocent to pay the rest of her life for my indiscretions, I cannot … and could not bear that thought. The blame is mine; I must suffer the consequences."

"She seems to be a very pretty child," Philana said mutedly, unable to meet his gaze. "The servants have made inquiries about a wet nurse in the area. Hopefully, we'll find one to replace Alice soon. I must say her manners are … a bit unusual."

Colton managed a stiff twitch of his lips, the best attempt at a smile he could convey at the moment. " ‘Despicable' is the word, Mother."

Harrison entered the drawing room, bearing a small silver tray upon which lay a letter sealed with red wax. He offered it to the marquess. "This missive arrived for you from Bath this past moment, my lord."

"Bath?" Colton repeated in some bewilderment.

"Yes, my lord. I believe it bears Lord Standish's seal." Philana sat up, a small glimmer of hope brightening her eyes. "Perhaps Gyles has managed to persuade Adriana to give you another chance."

Colton doubted that possibility. The girl had a mind of her own and wasn't easily swayed when it came to choosing a husband, not even by her father. He had seen evidence of that the first time he had visited her at Wakefield Manor, when she had set them all back upon their heels by her angry departure from the drawing room.

Breaking the waxed seal, Colton unfolded the dispatch and began to read. The message it bore presented his options bluntly.

If you have any smallest desire of presenting your petition of marriage to my daughter, I strongly suggest you come to the Lansdown Crescent at Bath ere the closing hour of the Assembly Room Saturday night. The Marquess of Harcourt seems to have taken Adriana's presence here and your lack of such as an indication of a possible estrangement between the two of you. He has sent a request for an audience with me, and I can onlybelieve he means to speak with me again regarding the matter of his marriage to my daughter. I can assure you if that is not Lord Harcourt's intent, there are others here eagerly vying for her hand. Though I trust my daughter to choose wisely, she will not make a decision in your favor unless she is convinced that you desire her to be your wife. If I have mistaken your affection for her, please disregard this summons. Be it known that I deeply honor the memory of your father, and it is only for that reason I send this letter. I cannot fault Adriana if she does not wish to marry you. Our plans are to stay in Bath until after the New Year.

"What is it, dear?" Philana asked. "Do I dare hope that it bears encouraging news?"

"I must go to Bath," Colton declared, coming to his feet in sudden haste. He dropped the letter on the table beside his mother as he stepped around it. "This will explain everything. I'm not sure when I'll be back."

It wasn't long before Bentley was reining the four-in-hand onto the lane that, moments later, led them past Wakefield Manor. Less than an hour had passed since Colton had read Gyles's letter, and in that expanse of time the wind had risen and dark clouds had gathered overhead. Though the onset of evening was still a pair of hours away, the dreariness of the approaching storm seemed to have aged day into night.

Complying with his lordship's request for speed, Bentley cracked the whip over the backs of the secondary steeds again and again, urging them onward to their fastest pace. There were occasions for overt showiness, but the mission his lordship seemed to be on required the maximum effort from the sturdier team. Time was of the essence.

As the conveyance entered the gloominess of a heavy copse of trees, Bentley eased his demands only slightly as the four-in-hand approached a familiar, undulating curve, which took them past thick stands of trees growing close upon the road. The landau swayed from side to side as it sped around anothercurve and had barely ceased its sideways motion when a warning shout from Bentley and a muttered cursing caused Colton to brace against a sudden, jolting halt.

"What's wrong?" he demanded, swinging open the door and making a partial descent to the step.

"There's a tree across the road, milord," Bentley announced over his shoulder as he tied off the reins. "The wind must've blown it down."

Colton stepped to the lane and snuggled the top hat firmly upon his head as his redingote swirled chaotically about him. Once he strode past the lead pair of horses, he came into view of the barrier and, after assessing the situation, deemed the size of the tree challenging but manageable. Briefly he squinted against the wind before lending his consideration to how best to go about moving the obstacle to the edge of the road where it would be out of their way. Facing the servant, he explained his idea. "Between the two of us, Bentley, we should be able to swing the top of the tree around until the whole of it is lying alongside the road. Considering its size, it shouldn't prove too difficult if we both carry it."

Bentley promptly made his descent to the ground and together, at the count of three, and with all the strength they could exert, they hefted the upper portion of the tree and carried it to the side of the road in spite of its broken limbs and tangle of leaves with which they were forced to contend. The heavier portion of the trunk scraped up soil and grass where it had become ensconced, slowing their progress. It proved an enormous feat, but one they managed to accomplish. Bentley even had enough breath left over to chortle over their success.

Dusting his hands off, Colton grinned. "Now let's get to Bath before we find our way again hampered, this time by a rainstorm."

He was just approaching the stump of the tree when he realized it had not collapsed beneath the force of the wind as they had supposed. Rather, it had been chopped down and, from what he could ascertain, fairly recently from the sap that wasstill oozing from its firmly rooted base, around which lay a pile of fresh chips.

Continuing on a short distance beyond the stump, Colton paused as if to consider the sky overhead and then turned, lifting his head a slight degree to keep his searching eyes hidden beneath the shadow of his brim. Listening intently, he carefully scanned the woods from right to left. The gravel on the well-worn road crunched slightly beneath Bentley's boots as the hulking man strode past the team, but another sound, the clicking thud of a rifle misfiring, set Colton's nerves on end. It was too close for comfort!

"Get down!" he bellowed toward his driver as he, himself, raced as swiftly as he could toward the landau, the door of which he had left open. Besides a few saplings, it alone offered the closest cover for him. In the next instant, a loud explosion of gunpowder, ignited by a firing pin, produced the forceful trajectory of a leaden ball. The resulting, ear-splitting sound snatched a start from Bentley, who promptly ducked in wide-eyed alarm.

The leaden missile met its intended mark, boring a hole into Colton's back and sending him sprawling forward with a sharp gasp. On the heels of that report, a barrage of exploding gunfire was unleashed upon the pair, most of which pelted the landau with lead shot very near the place where Colton had gone down. As painful as it was for him to move, he was forced to drag himself beneath the conveyance, which at best afforded him little security.

"Milord, are yu hurt?" Bentley cried, having made his way past the front wheels. He squatted down on his haunches on the far side of the landau and craned his neck to look underneath. When he saw the glistening red on the back of the redingote, his heart plunged to morbid depths as fear pierced it. He could only believe the nobleman was either dead or dying. "Milord, are yu alive?"

The piercing agony of his wound delayed Colton's answer a moment as he lay with his brow braced on a forearm. Finally he rolled his head on his arm, enabling him to peer sideways at Bentley, who clasped a hand over his swiftly pounding heart as his breath escaped in a sigh of relief.

"I'm wounded but far from dead, Bentley. Have you a weapon and shot with you?"

"Aye, milord. Brown Besses, both o' ‘em. I gots plenty o' shot, too. Yu might says I likes bein' prepared at all times."

"Should we escape alive from these brigands who've attacked us, I'll see that you're supplied with more accurate weapons in the future. As for now, we can only hope our attackers are within range of the shot. Can you reach them without getting your head blown off?"

"Well, considerin' the trouble we'll be in if'n I don't, milord, I'll be doin' ‘at very thing right away. I just checked the loadin' this morn'n, just like I've been doin' e'er since yur cousin an' ‘er family were killed."

No sooner were the words out of Bentley's mouth than he was again on his feet, scurrying alongside the carriage, this time toward the front. Shots liberally pocked the wood and fine leather sheathing the conveyance as he climbed onto the spokes of the wheel and reached behind the dickey seat. He cursed loudly as the leaden balls sprinkled the landau, sending sharp splinters flying into his face, but upon reaching the weapons and a bag of shot, he clasped them firmly in one arm and hastily began his descent, though not fast enough. An enraged snarl was wrenched from his lips as a ball sliced across his cheek, leaving a groove that readily spilled blood over his dapper livery. The wound gave him impetus. He promptly dropped out of sight and, hunkering down low, scampered back toward the spot where his lordship had taken shelter. There, he delivered two of the weapons into the capable hands of the retired colonel.

Bentley squinted against the stiff breezes that flowed beneath the carriage as he watched the younger man reposition himself. "Do yu ken how best ta take ‘em, milord?"

"Go to the front of the carriage, and see if you can draw them out, but stay out of sight," Colton bade. "It's bad enough that I've been wounded without having you incapable of getting us out of here. I'll see if I can pick off one or two while they're watching you. Hopefully that will send the rest of them fleeing in fear of their lives."

"How many do ye make ‘em out ta be, milord?"

"From the shots pelting the landau while you were getting the rifles, more than we can repel without reinforcements. You'd better start praying for a miracle."

While on bended knee, Bentley bent his head, muttered a few words, and then, after a breathless "amen," scurried forward.

A brief curtailment of gunfire had followed his disappearance, spurring Bentley to pop his head into view again. "Yu bloody bastards!" he railed. "Show yur ugly faces."

Quickly he ducked out of sight again, just as several leaden balls pelted the landau. On the heels of this new barrage, Bentley heard the fairly loud roar of a Brown Bess discharging from underneath the wheel base. On its heels came a distant scream. He chanced a peek through the windows of the landau in time to see a man clasp a hand to his profusely bleeding throat and then tumble forward in a senseless heap.

Another gurgling cry was evoked from another of the villains soon after Colton drew bead upon a tattered red coat visible through the brush. The man staggered into an opening, causing Colton to suffer a deep regret as he recognized the coat as one worn by foot soldiers of the English infantry.

"Bentley, stay down!" he bellowed. "I've got to talk with these men!"

The coachman was certain the younger man had taken leave of his senses. "But, milord, they're tryin' ta blow us ta kingdom come!"

"Do as I say! Stay down, and don't draw any more fire!"

A sorely garbled comment, closely resembling an oath, sufficed as a promise of compliance. Petulantly, Bentley folded his arms across his chest, convinced his lordship was courting disaster.

Colton endured the piercing agony centered around the hole in his back as he dragged himself closer to the front wheel. The effort cost him a fair measure of his remaining vigor, and aftercompleting the excruciating task, he was forced to rest a moment. By dint of will, he took firm hold of his resolve as well as his rapidly dwindling strength and called out to the rabble, "Men, why have you attacked my coach? Are you not some of the same fighting men I fought alongside against our enemies? If you have no real ken of the men you've attacked, let me introduce myself. I am Colonel Wyndham, recently retired from His Majesty's armed forces."

"Colonel Lord Wyndham?" Surprise was evident in the voice of the one who answered, but it was one Colton recognized.

"Sergeant Buford, is that you? Good heavens, man! Why have you repaid me for saving your life by attacking my coach?"

"Milord, I ne'er dreamt for an instant it were yu we'd been stirred up ta attack! Please, yur lordship, yu've gots ta believe me! A fella told us ‘at a Lord Randwulf was bootin' out families o' dead soldiers who'd been his tenants afore the war an' were forcin' their children ta do his drudgery in his work houses in order for ‘em ta eat."

Colton didn't know which galled him more, his wound or the vicious slander. "Who tells those lies against me? I am Lord Randwulf. I assumed my father's marquessate after his death. He owned no work houses, and the tenants residing on our lands have been living there for many a year. As for the widows and families of dead soldiers, they are secure in their cottages, doing what they can for their own betterment."

"Don't knows the bloke's name, milord. Nor ‘is face, neither. He wore a mask whilst ‘e were wit' us."

"Is he among you now? I would speak with this man who has taken it upon himself to fabricate these lies against me."

" 'E were just ‘ere, milord. ‘E's the one what shot yu…. Took ‘em two tries ta do it ta ye, too, aftah ‘is own weapon fizzled." Cautiously Buford rose to his feet, fearing he'd be shot. After realizing he was fairly safe, he stood upright and glanced around the area. "Why, the gent's taken ‘is bloomin' leave, milord. Maybe ‘e lit out wit' the idea o' lettin' the rest o' us be‘anged for what ‘e started. ‘Twould ‘peer ‘e duped the lot o' us, milord, an' for ‘at, I must beg yur pardon."

"Your apology is accepted, Buford. Now I urge you and your cohorts to go back to your homes and families, and stop this chicanery. If you do not desist in this foolishness, I can assure you that eventually you'll pay for what you're doing. If you need work, then by all means, come to my manor. I'll see what can be done for you, but for heaven's sake, cease this idiocy ere you're arrested and strung up for killing innocent people."

"Are yu wounded, milord?" Buford asked worriedly. "I saw yu fall when the bloke shot yu. ‘Twould be a bloomin' shame if'n yu died from somethin' we'd been involved in. Can we ‘elp yu, milord?"

"The conniving bastard shot me in the back, all right, but I haven't time to see to my wound. It's crucial that I get to Bath."

Bentley stuttered in sharp surprise before he launched into a vehement protest. "Milord, Bath's an hour away, an' the manor only a few moments. Yu could die if'n we don't turn back. Once a physician looks at ye, then if'n ‘e says yu're able, we can go on as before."

"Just help me into the carriage, Bentley, and continue on to Bath. We'll find a doctor there in good time."

"Milord … please … I'd be deeply grieved should yu expire along the way. Yur mother'd ne'er forgive me. Yur sister'd likely ‘ave me scalp, jes' like I been ‘ear-in' ‘bout from ‘em faroff places in the Colonies."

"Dammit, Bentley, do as I say! I won't be swayed by your arguments. My future happiness may well depend on our ability to reach the city in good time."

"Well, what ‘bout yur life?"

"I'm not ready to give it up just yet, Bentley, and the longer you stand there arguing, the longer it will take you to get me to a physician. Besides, it's only a scratch."

"Only a scratch," Bentley mumbled morosely, climbing to his seat. "Humph, wit' a ‘ole like that, ‘e'll likely be bleeding ta death afore I e'en gets ‘im ‘ere."

The city of Bath was exactly the place where she wanted and needed to be at this precise moment in time, Adriana decided dejectedly as she gazed out on the lantern-lit city from the second-story bedchamber of her aunt's town house, where she had been ensconced shortly after arriving with her parents. That had been several days ago, and, since then, her aunt had taken them on lengthy walks, accompanied them on visitations to old friends and distant relatives, encouraged them to shop frugally, dress tastefully, and follow the very pleasant customs of the city, for it was here that divisions between aristocrats and gentlefolk had ceased to exist, that is, if one minded one's manners, a requirement if one wanted to be accepted. Yet, in spite of her aunt's vivacious and clever wit, which frequently evoked well-deserved chortles from guests, Adriana still struggled to subdue the tears that quickly began to flow whenever she let down her guard and relented to the agonizing pangs she had been suffering since terminating her courtship with Colton Wyndham.

The distance between Bath and Randwulf Manor had allowed her to separate herself, if not emotionally from the handsome man, then surely in actuality. Even so, regrets continued to press down hard upon her, especially when she was alone. She wished now she had had the foresight to release Colton from the contract ere their courtship ever commenced. Had she done so, she'd have saved herself the enormous grief that now weighed down her spirit. Every instinct she had been capable of feeling had screamed a warning of the improbability of their ever getting married, but like a simpleton she had allowed herself to believe there existed a small, finite chance. And so, much to the injury of her heart, she had allowed herself to fall more deeply in love with the man every day they had been together.

A light rap of knuckles sounded on the bedchamber door, drawing Adriana's somber attention away from the thoroughfare below. At her call for admittance, her mother swept in,valiantly feigning a cheery smile. In spite of her deep concern for her daughter, Christina had endeavored to convey an optimistic facade, though in truth her own heart was breaking for her youngest offspring. It was the best she could do under the circumstances, for she found herself totally bereft of the talent for working miracles and absorbing into herself all the anguish the girl was now suffering. "Lord Alistair just arrived, dear. Will you be coming down soon?"

"Yes, Mama," Adriana replied, hardly aware of the dejected sigh that slipped from her lips in accompaniment. "I'm ready to leave whenever you are."

"That will be soon, dear."

A genuine smile of delight touched Christina's soft lips as her eyes swept over her daughter. The dark-blue silk sheath that her youngest wore was sublimely appropriate for one so tall, lithe, and graceful. The minuscule beads lightly embellishing the gown caught the radiance of a nearby lamp, causing the lovely creation to glitter like tiny stars upon a night-blue sky. Teardrop pearls dangled prettily from small, sapphire-encrusted studs, adorning the lobes of dainty ears. Twining delicately about the base of her neck was a gold choker finely tooled to represent diminutive branches of a tree, the twigs of which were studded here and there with minute sapphires. A fairly large, solitary teardrop pearl hung over the hollow of her long, elegant throat.

The jewelry was the only accoutrement her daughter wore with the costly gown, but Christina was convinced she needed nothing more, for it was a fact that some of the simplest garments complemented a rare beauty far more than frilly or elaborate attire. Indeed, there were times when Christina had to admit, but only to herself, that in pulchritude and grace, her youngest daughter far surpassed her sisters.

"You're looking especially lovely tonight, dear. Alistair has just arrived and informed us that Samantha and Percy will also be there tonight at the Assembly Rooms with Stuart and Berenice. From what your aunt has been telling me, many of your past suitors have been making inquiries aboutyou and intend to be at Lansdown tonight as well in hopes of renewing their own courtship. Of course, I doubt you-know-who will be there." Christina dared not mention Colton's name for fear of touching off another lengthy bout of tears. She did, however, think it a shame the man wouldn't be there to see just how eagerly other swains welcomed his very noticeable absence from Adriana's side. It would certainly serve the libertine his just due to realize the zeal other gentlemen freely evidenced in their desire to win Adriana for themselves. Perhaps it was her own entitlement as a parent to feel put out by the man for what she considered a personal affront against her daughter, but then, she couldn't dismiss from mind another who'd grieve almost as desperately if the couple parted forever.

Christina heaved a sigh of lament for her old friend. "Dear Philana was simply mortified by his sudden fatherhood and marriage to that actress. She was quite put out that special licenses could be bartered by favors to the archbishop in order to legitimize such hasty nuptials. Nevertheless, dear, she hopes you will forgive her son and reconsider his proposal of marriage, but I had to tell her that I didn't see any chance for that occurrence. As handsome a husband as his lordship would make, a woman must be able to trust in the integrity of her spouse. Yet there are those who seem fiercely loyal to him and defend his actions. As much as poor Alistair is trying his best to remain discreetly mum about the matter in Tilly's presence, ‘tis obvious he admires his nephew a great deal. He has even spoken in his favor to your father, going so far as to argue that his lordship's actions could be considered noble when compared to other aristocrats who turn their backs upon illegitimate offspring while arrogantly pretending they've done nothing scandalous. At the moment, however, Alistair doesn't want to set Tilly awry by his defense when ‘tis evident she's just as loyal to you. if I can believe my eyes, I'd be inclined to say the man is very much smitten with your aunt."

Adriana offered a meager smile, the best she could manage under the circumstances. "He's probably more stunned thananyone by his infatuation, having managed to remain a bachelor all these many years."

"Yes, I can understand why he'd feel that way," Christina agreed. "As long as we've been friends with the Wyndhams, he has never seemed overly enthusiastic about courting women or even getting married. Perhaps you-know-who gets his independence naturally. Still, it will be interesting to see just how it all comes out with Tilly and Alistair. Like you, she is not without her admirers. Even so, I don't know that her three sons will take kindly to having a stepfather. Being full-grown and with children of their own, they can hardly protest, especially since Tilly would ignore their advice anyway." Having said that, Christina smiled as she beckoned to her daughter. "Come along, dear. By now, your father is probably pacing the floor, wondering what's keeping us."

No sooner had their party arrived at Lansdown Crescent than Adriana found herself besieged with requests from handsome gentlemen vying for her attention, or at least hoping for a dance or two fairly soon, or even later on. As far-fetched as it seemed to Adriana, word that she was in Bath without her usual escort had spread even to London just since the previous day, for sons of their Regent Park neighbors had come to Bath to test the waters, but only those rippling around the daughter of Lord Standish.

Sir Guy Dalton had stood at the forefront of the collection of young men who had been watching for her. As soon as Adriana entered, he had swept into a flamboyant bow and immediately engaged her in a vivacious conversation about the city and the approaching New Year, two days hence. Although Adriana smiled and chatted with the young knight for several moments, she graciously demurred his invitation, having no other wish than to join her own parents when he tried to coax her into one of the seats the Reverend William Dalton had reserved in the Assembly Room for his family and their guest, the archbishop.

The music in the ballroom was both soothing and uplifting, and in spite of her recent gloominess, Adriana felt somewhatrejuvenated, at least enough to dance with Sir Guy and several other young men who had been keeping a close eye upon her. Still, after returning to the sidelines, she was unnerved when Roger Elston stepped close in front of her.

"My lady." He smiled into her eyes as if entirely guiltless of any previous wrongdoing.

Her mouth stretched tightly in a crisp smile as she inclined her head in a meager nod of recognition. "Mr. Elston."

She would have brushed past him immediately, but he advanced in the direction in which she sought to flee, guilefully preventing her escape as he looked casually about the hall. Then, as if totally unaware of her wish to leave him, he smiled down at her and found icy shards boring into him. His gaze descended from those dark orbs as if drawn irresistibly to her bosom, the higher, creamy curves of which were set off to perfection by the shallow bodice of her darkly hued gown. Whether the man was merely seeking to refresh his memory or contemplating something more devious, Adriana could not determine, but she was no less incensed.

"Rather surprising to find you out and about without your gallant escort," Roger remarked loftily. "Has his lordship forgotten you perchance, or found another lady with whom to wile away his time?"

Adriana pointedly snubbed the miller by turning aside and vigorously fanning her burning cheeks. As persistent as always, Roger stepped forward until they were once again standing shoulder to shoulder. His eyes scanned the dancing couples nonchalantly as he sniffed a pinch of snuff.

"As for myself, I'm in quite good company, having escorted the very beautiful Miss Felicity and a pair of casual acquaintances of hers, who've been craving to see Bath for themselves for some time."

"Have you become a guide of late, Mr. Elston?" Adriana asked coolly and flicked a glance behind him to smile at Felicity and the two young ladies, each hardly much older than ten and seven, who were nearly chirping with excitement as they glanced about the ballroom.

"Indeed, no, my lady. I'm far too busy with the mill to take on such whimsical tasks. Indeed, so swamped was I with orders to fill today that my livery barely made it to Gladstone's house at the appointed hour."

"That's nice," she replied coolly and was about to walk away when he caught her arm. Turning her head to look at him, she gritted out a smile as she warned, "Take your hand off me, Mr. Elston, or I shall start screaming this very instant."

He complied forthwith. "Goodness, I didn't mean to distress you, dear lady. I only wanted to introduce you to Felicity's friends. Impressionable young girls, they are, truly bedazzled by aristocrats, it seems. They'd be especially honored to meet you. Of course, between Felicity and her friends, I find myself perplexed, wondering which one to lay the honor of a marriage proposal. But then, Felicity is the only one who still resists my manly quests and appetites. She's such an innocent, poor dear. As for the other two I must confess they have left me somewhat jaded by their eagerness to please." He patted a hand to his yawning mouth as if terribly bored. "Why, they lift their skirts for any smallest whim of mine and don't mind that there's three abed…."

Cheeks burning, Adriana turned abruptly from him and started making her way through the crowd toward her parents. Their presence promised her absolute safety. When she drew nearer the place where they stood, she realized her father had been watching her keenly, and though he voiced no question as she joined him, his eyes bespoke his concern.

"Just angry, that's all, Papa," she acknowledged at his silent question. "The man is an utter cad. Too bad you didn't cut him like Maud said you threatened to do. You might have prevented the debauchment of two silly maids."

Gyles harrumphed in some discomfiture. "Maud shouldn't be reddening your innocent ears by repeating my ominous threats, girl."

Smiling up at her father, Adriana laid a hand upon his finely tailored sleeve. "Papa, I've been around horses long enough toknow the difference between a gelding and a stallion. Mr. Elston should definitely be a gelding."

Gyles winked at her above a grin, having given up all hopes of trying to suppress it. "One of these days, girl, I may consider performing that service, just to keep you safe from that ogre, though it's too bad about the silly maids. Obviously they never learned that some men are dastardly sorts, but I'm afraid there's nothing we can do to enlighten them. They're old enough to know better. Besides, if they've ignored the admonitions of their parents, ‘tis doubtful they'll accept advice from strangers."

"They probably never had a father like you who cared enough to want to protect them." Smoothing a hand fondly over his crisply tailored lapels, she smiled up at him adoringly. "I love you, Papa, more than any man on Earth."

"Now who's being dishonest?" he questioned gently, delving into eyes that in recent days had lost much of their lively sparkle. "There is one you love through and through."

She blinked away a start of tears. "Aye, Papa," she admitted sadly, "but I fear he doesn't love me."

"We shall see the way of it, my dear, perhaps even as early as tonight. Who knows?" He patted her hand reassuringly and then, sweeping a glance about the ballroom, casually motioned across the room toward its entrance. "Now there's a familiar face, and I believe he's searching for you."

Adriana's heart leapt within her bosom, for she could only imagine that Colton had indeed come and was looking for her. Cheeks rosy, she searched in the direction her father had gestured and felt a sharp twinge of disappointment as she caught sight of the very handsome Riordan Kendrick. Apparently he had just arrived, for he was peering about as if he were indeed trying to find someone.

Equal to her father's height, Riordan had the advantage of being able to look over the heads of the women and the vast majority of men. He seemed rather methodical in his quest as he glanced about the room until Adriana finally felt his eyessettle … and stay … on her. A slow grin traced across his lips. With the same unswerving dedication, he pressed through the chatting couples who had collected behind the chairs and benches of the spectators seated around the ballroom floor.

Adriana couldn't believe that word of her estrangement from Colton was spreading so quickly, but here again seemed viable proof of the alacrity with which it was advancing. Riordan Kendrick was obviously taking the initiative to press his suit.

She had almost forgotten how handsome the man was … and just how dedicated he had been to have her for his own. Still, when she returned his smile, it was as if something had gone missing from her spirit. As much as she had once believed she'd be pleased to have Riordan as her husband, she couldn't easily accept that premise now, not while the image of Colton Wyndham still loomed unrelentingly in her mind … and her heart. Perhaps in time the agonizing pain would diminish, and she could consider the ones who really wanted her, chief among them, Riordan Kendrick, who as far back as nearly two years past had evidenced his fierce commitment toward that end.

"My lady, mere words cannot fully justify how much I've missed you these past months," he murmured warmly as he halted before her. "I made every effort to keep my mind from dwelling upon the lady whom I had lost and to absorb myself in overseeing renovations to my private chambers at my country estate, desiring not only to assuage the vacancy lingering in my heart, but to find a way to win you for my wife. Should I dare hope that your presence here in Bath and the very noticeable absence of your usual escort is reason for me to rejoice?"

A vigorous flagging of a handkerchief across the room caught Adriana's attention. Curious to know who in the world would be so bold in the Assembly Room, she leaned aside slightly to peer past Riordan's arm, since his height blocked her view. The distressed individual was none other than Samantha, motioning to her rather frantically from across the ballroom. Considering her friend's lack of aplomb, Adriana could only believe something of a serious nature had upset her.

Laying a hand upon the marquess's arm, Adriana looked up at him beseechingly. "Your pardon for being so rude to excuse myself at this very moment, Riordan, but I must find out why Samantha is beckoning to me. She seems terribly distressed, and I can only wonder what has happened…." Adriana could not allow herself to continue, for her heart had turned suddenly cold at the thought of Colton lying dead or wounded somewhere.

Riordan glanced around to see for himself what was going on behind him and readily affirmed that Samantha did indeed seem greatly disturbed. "Here, follow me, and stay close," he bade chivalrously, taking Adriana's slender hand within his. "The crowd is far too dense for you to maneuver through it easily."

Adriana was quite willing to let him pull her along behind him, for his tall, broad-shouldered form easily forged a path through the mass of people. As soon as they neared Samantha, the woman rushed toward her and clutched her arm in desperation. Her face had lost most of its color, and though she was making every effort not to break down, her lips were trembling with the threat of that possibility.

In rising concern, Adriana grabbed her friend's arm. "My goodness, Samantha, what has happened to upset you so? Where's Percy? Is he all right?"

"Bentley sent someone in to fetch him earlier, and he just now rushed back to tell me that Colton is in the carriage outside and is wanting to see you."

A rush of joyful excitement shot through Adriana once again before reason intruded and suppressed her elation. Did he really think she'd fly into his embrace so easily after he had kept her at arm's length all during their courtship? Conveying a casualness she definitely didn't feel, she lifted her shoulders in a blasé shrug. "So, why doesn't your brother come inside?"

"Colton has been shot in the back, Adriana, and he refuses to seek out a physician until he has an opportunity to speak with you. Bentley said they were attacked on the road shortlyafter leaving home, and my brother has come this far in spite of his wounds, determined to see you."

The dreadful news pierced Adriana's heart with cold shards of mounting fear. For a second time in so many moments, she faced the marquess to plead for his gracious understanding, this time, however, in trembling disquiet. "Riordan, please forgive me, but I must go to Colton."

"Perhaps I can be of some help," he offered, the joy fading from his dark eyes. Clasping her shaking hand within his, he sought to rally her courage. "Having dressed a good many wounds in my experience as an officer, Adriana, mayhap if I were to accompany you both outside, I could be of some assistance."

"Please hurry then," Samantha pleaded, readily accepting his advice and whatever help he'd be able to give. "Colton could be dying for all we know."

The faces of the onlookers registered shock as the three almost ran toward the entrance, but it mattered naught to the women and even less to the man who followed closely behind. Bentley was waiting beside the landau, the sorry condition of which had drawn a crowd of close and casual acquaintances anxious to know what had occurred, and if any of the Wyndhams had been hurt in what the driver merely explained was an attack by unknown factions. As to his employer's condition, Bentley answered them by repeating the words that had been issued to him earlier. "His lordship, but ‘tis only a scratch."

As the ladies hurried from the curving, elegant edifice, Percy made a careful descent from the landau, not wishing to cause his brother-in-law any greater discomfort than he was already suffering.

"Do you ken if his injuries are serious?" Samantha asked her husband as he extended a hand to help her in.

"Your brother claims it isn't," Percy murmured, "but you'd better brace yourself for the worst, my pet. He seems to have lost a lot of blood. His coat is nigh soaked through in the back."

In mounting dread, Adriana bit into a slender knuckle as she waited for the man to assist his wife. When Percy finallyturned to her, his face was solemn, his blue eyes in the lantern light bereft of their usual sparkle. The plea in her own tear-filled, dark orbs was readily discernible.

"I can offer no assurances, Adriana," he murmured regretfully, squeezing her thin fingers to communicate his own concern. Gently he handed her into the coach.

Samantha had taken a seat beside her brother, and when she looked around and met her friend's worried gaze, she could only press trembling lips together and offer a noncommittal shrug. Adriana's shaking limbs threatened to collapse beneath her. Somehow she managed to reach the cushions in front of Colton. Yet her heart grew cold with dread as she considered the one she had come to love so desperately.

Colton sat slumped in the far corner of the rear seat with an elbow braced upon the rest, the hand of that same arm pressing hard against his midriff, as if with it he endeavored to brace himself up. In the glow of the lampposts his face appeared pale and drawn. It also became evident that he was having some difficulty in rallying enough strength to speak. "Forgive my shoddy condition, ladies," he rasped through a wry grin. The stiffness of his pale lips vividly attested to the difficulty he was having hiding his agony. "I started out in good form, but between there and here I ran afoul of miscreants who seemed intent on killing me…."

Adriana clasped a hand over her mouth to smother a fearful moan. Her companion and friend, whose own quaking tone clearly conveyed her mounting concern, voiced the question burning within her mind.

"Why didn't you turn back, Colton, and have our surgeon tend your wound?"

"I had to tell Adriana … that I do indeed love her … and am most desperate to have her for my wife." His eyes flicked toward the door where Lord Riordan stood listening to their exchange. "You see, I was terrified … of losing her … to another. I did not chance a delay for fear of what the evening would reap … if I … didn't at least tell her … of my love."

Adriana brushed at the tears now streaming down her face. His family would not be able to tolerate his death, nor would she. Not only did she love him with every fiber of her being, but if he were to die, she'd never forgive herself, for she'd be haunted by the fact that the rift between them had prevented him from searching out a physician in a timely fashion. That guilt would hound her to her grave. "We must get you to Aunt Tilly's posthaste and find a surgeon to take care of your wound."

The smile that turned his lips proved feeble indeed. The same shaft of light streaming from the lamppost illumed his smile and the smoky gray eyes that settled unswervingly upon her. "Not until you promise to marry me, Adriana. Tonight would be fine, if not this very moment."

"You may well die if your wound is not soon tended," Adriana choked, trying hard to hold back the threatening sobs.

"Better to die than to live without you," he whispered, extending his free hand toward her.

Amid a flood of cascading tears, Adriana reached out and settled her fingers within his grasp.

"Will you be my wife, Adriana?" he rasped.

She nodded vigorously. "Yes, oh, yes!"

Directing his gaze to Riordan, Colton managed a weak smile in spite of the searing pain piercing his back. "Should I not make it through this, my lord, be it known that you would be my choice for the lady's husband. She could do no better, upon my demise of course."

Even in so serious a moment, Riordan did not miss the other man's unquenchable humor. Inclining his head briefly, he accepted the compliment the other bestowed upon him, but he was wont to answer forthrightly, "Had the two of you not been promised, my lord, I would've moved heaven and earth to take Adriana from you, and though I do most desperately yearn to have her as my own wife, I would not want our marriage to come to fruition through your death. On a matter more pertinent to your present needs, if you'd allow me to accompany you to the town house, perhaps between Percy and I wecan be of some assistance getting you to a bed. Although the ladies have proven immensely resourceful in the past, I'm afraid they lack the strength to accomplish that feat."

"Your offer is most kindly accepted," Colton managed weakly. "I fear I don't have enough vigor left to maneuver myself into a house … or to doff my clothes even if I were to get that far."

Riordan turned to find Sir Guy standing at his elbow. The younger man had been listening intently to their exchange and seemed genuinely concerned. Considering the knight among his friends, Riordan urged him, "If you'd kindly tell Adriana's parents that she'll be returning to her aunt's town house without delay, ‘twould alleviate their anxiety should they realize she's missing."

"I'll see that someone in the family is told of the situation," Sir Guy replied. Before departing on his errand, however, he stepped to the open door of the carriage. Clearing his throat slightly in an effort to claim the wounded man's attention, he soon found himself searching pain-glazed gray eyes. "I sincerely wish you well, my lord," he averred in all truth. " ‘Twould be ill-met indeed if an honored hero of our lengthy conflict with France meets his end because of the foul deeds of our own countrymen. I shall hope and pray that you defeat their foul purposes by living a long, happy, and prosperous life. Concerning the matter of your happiness, if you wouldn't mind assistance in that area, I'd be willing to direct my father's attention to your needs. Since you and Lady Adriana are legal residents of Wiltshire, he'd certainly be able to issue you a marriage license. However, His Grace, the archbishop, just happens to be in Bath, inspecting various churches under his auspices, and has come to the Crescent tonight as my father's guest. I believe he'd be willing to dispense a special license to one of our country's finest heroes. With his signature on the document, then no one in the world would be able to challenge your marriage to Lady Adriana."

"Thank you, Sir Guy," Colton murmured gratefully, managing a frail smile. "Whatever the cost, I'd be interested in extending such a sum to have His Grace validate the license."

The knight turned abruptly, intending to set himself upon his errands, but immediately found himself facing Roger Elston, who, after meeting his gaze, cast a sardonic glance into the carriage beyond him. Touching a handkerchief to his left nostril in a lofty manner, he inquired, "Is anything amiss?"

Sir Guy didn't know why his hackles rose; perhaps it was the vague smirk that seemed to turn the miller's lips that goaded a brusque reaction from him, but then, he had never really liked the miller's son, especially his efforts to convey some viable claim on the lady when there were lords aplenty seeking her hand. "Not anything the Lady Adriana hasn't taken care of by agreeing to marry his lordship. In fact, I was just about to go in and arrange for my father to perform the nuptials tonight, by special license signed by His Grace, the archbishop, of course."

Roger's eyes turned icy. "You'd do that for the haughty bastard after desiring the lady yourself?"

"Unlike some men I know," Guy said, raising a brow meaningfully as their eyes dueled like glinting sabers, "I'm not a vindictive loser. Besides, considering his lordship's valiant service to his country, I'm sure most people would agree that he's deserving of such an honor. That's more than I can say for those paltry fellows who saw fit to excuse themselves by feigning serious disabilities."

"You poor, misguided fool," Roger sneered caustically, dismissing the other's pointed jibe. "Do you honestly think Wyndham's involvement in a few skirmishes makes him more worthy than any other?"

"A few?" Sir Guy's abortive laugh negated the other's disparagement. "More like a hundred, I'd say, dear chap. In any case, such an argument is redundant since Lady Adriana has already accepted his lordship's proposal of marriage." Lifting a hand, he tapped his forefinger against the miller's chest as he delivered what a knowledgeable swordsman, such as himself,would've defined as a verbal coup de grace. "Which leaves you, buffoon, no chance in a million."

Roger sought to throw off the other's nettlesome touch, but with the swiftness of a talented foilsman, Guy swept his hand upward, deliberately jarring Roger's chin, evoking a noticeable rattle as the miller's teeth came forcefully together. Roger promptly snarled a profusion of epithets, liberally assailing the briskly departing knight, who now seemed eager to complete his mission.

Percy approached the fretfully pacing Bentley, who, upon espying him, hurried forward to meet him with the hope that he had encouraging news. None was forthcoming. In somber tones, Percy gave the driver instructions to the Lady Mathilda's town house. Dejectedly, the driver turned and climbed to his seat.

Adriana vacated the forward seat of the landau to make room for Percy and Riordan, but in refusing to release her hand, Colton dictated the seating arrangement, forcing her to claim the narrow space between his sister and himself. To spare him further discomfort, Adriana refrained from pressing back into the seat until Samantha slid aside to give her more room. Even then, Colton refused to let her move away, obliging her to remain close beneath his arm. Entwining his long fingers through hers, he rested their clasped hands in her lap as his shoulder overlapped hers and the back of his arm rested against her soft bosom. Lovingly she stroked the muscular firmness of his arm and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder as he slowly lowered his head against the far side of the landau. A moment later, her heart leapt in her bosom as the long fingers fell limp in her grasp.

"Oh, no, please, no!" she cried, bringing the other occupants forward in their seats. Frantic with fear, she searched for a pulse as she pressed trembling fingers against Colton's throat. Her anxiety quickly soared when none could be found. Choking on a sob, she renewed her efforts and, upon detecting a steady throbbing beneath her fingertips a moment later, wentlimp with relief. In some embarrassment, she glanced around at the others who were staring at her in rowelling concern.

"He's all right. His pulse is strong. He only fainted."

Samantha clasped a trembling hand over her mouth, trying to smother her sobs in spite of the flood of tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Dearest friend, forgive me for frightening you," Adriana pleaded through her own tears as she threaded thin fingers through the other's. Samantha's grip tightened, and together they struggled against their burgeoning fear as they leaned their heads together. As always, their hearts were bound as one in their love and concern for the man.