Six

Abrilliant shard of sunlight pierced the drapery-shadowed darkness of the spacious, second-story bedchamber of Wakefield Manor. Much like a dazzling, puckish sprite, it streaked across a lengthy expanse of oriental carpet before climbing a low chest that resided against a heavily carved footboard. Upon reaching the sleeping face of the young woman who lay sprawled amid a twisted tangle of sheets and downy comforters on the huge tester, the brightness seemed mischievously bent upon wrenching its victim from an exhausted slumber, which sadly enough had come well after hours of fitful tossing and turning.

Opening one eye, Adriana glared in vexation toward the cause of the provoking light, in this case a tiny gap that servants the previous night had inadvertently left in the heavily tasseled green velvet draperies they had drawn closed over the spacious oriel. The latter amounted to a wide expanse of diamond-paned windows, which consumed nearly the entire east wall of her bedchamber. No matter how diligently the servants tried to ensure the snug closure of the velvet hangings, the early morning rays, on a fairly frequent basis, would find their way in through the tiniest breach.

At times like these, Adriana knew exactly why her sisters had left her, the youngest offspring, the largest and grandest bedchamber in the manse, with the exception of the suite of rooms belonging to their parents. Both Melora and Jaclyn enjoyed sleeping until a late hour, whereas, in sharp contrast, she normally rose soon after the dawning of the sun, or even earlier when she had plans to join their father on a hunt. Unfortunately, this morning she was thoroughly exhausted and suffering an horrendous headache, the likes of which she had never known before. The intensity of it caused her to regret the fact that she had consumed so much wine. Aside from her fatigue and discomfort, she was also feeling a little queasy and more than a little rebellious. Indeed, if Colton Wyndham had been anywhere within striking distance, she'd have boxed his fine, aristocratic nose just for the sheer pleasure of it.

As relentlessly as she had tried to thrust that gray-eyed, handsome devil from her mind prior to succumbing to her lassitude, regretfully he was still very much in residence in the full light of morning. The hardest part had been trying to banish to the nether ends of her memory the sight of him standing gloriously naked in the bathing chamber. No one could have been more surprised by his return to Randwulf Manor than she. After his failure to come home for his father's funeral, she, like his sister, had assumed that he had wanted nothing to do with the marquessate. Then, out of the blue, he appeared, turning her world topsy-turvy. After waiting an eternity for the rogue to show his handsome face, it seemed she might at least have been better prepared, but in that endeavor she realized she had failed most miserably.

Looming in her future now were three endless months of uncertainty during which she'd be forced to bide her time until the rascal made up his mind whether he wanted to accept or reject his father's decree. Duty and honor would serve as a forceful constraint to bind her to a promise her own sire had made years ago. As much as she loved and respected her father, she couldn't bring herself to appreciate the tenuous position hehad helped create for her. He just hadn't realized what it would entail.

Adriana buried her throbbing head beneath a pillow, knowing only too well that her future would hang in the balance during that grueling, interminable interval of time. Her father was a man of high morals and principles, and, as such, would do everything within his power to honor the terms of the betrothal contract, though he, too, had grown impatient for the son of Sedgwick Wyndham to return. Yet, if she chose to avoid the anguish she'd likely suffer while waiting for the outcome of the ordeal, she had no doubt her sire would stand behind her decision, though it could well mean going against a pact that he and Sedgwick had carefully considered at great length years ago. Still, if he did, she could think of no assuagement that would absolve him of the shame that would probably torment him in years to come.

Once again, Adriana found herself at the vexing crux of her problem, how to avoid Colton Wyndham's courtship without causing her father anguish. Being romanced and then rebuffed by the marquess might well prove her undoing. Why, oh, why did he have to return at all? Hadn't their fathers realized at the time of their agreement there existed a possibility that her heart would be just as susceptible to Colton today as it had been ages ago? She didn't think she could bear another wounding the like of which she had suffered after his earlier rejection. What could she possibly do to save herself now that he looked like some godly being sent to Earth for the express purpose of stealing the hearts of maidens in every corner of the world? Sheath her own in a bulwark of stone? Not likely!

As much as Adriana yearned to find a way out of her predicament and banish Colton from her mind, both proved impossible feats. When some moments later she stumbled downstairs, he was still wedged securely within a cavernous niche. Thus, with languishing heart and pounding head, she entered the dining room to find her parents already seated at the table.

"Where have you been, child?" Lady Christina asked cheerily. In view of the different habits of her offspring, she had no need to verify the identity of her youngest. "We've delayed breakfast until Cook is nigh cranky."

When no answer came, the older woman glanced up toward her daughter and immediately gasped in shock. Even at an early hour of the morning, Adriana was normally bright and vivacious, truly a pleasure to be around. It was equally rare the girl came downstairs less than neatly groomed for the morning meal. Nevertheless, here she was, still in her dressing gown, her long black hair tumbling in riotous disarray about her shoulders, and faint, translucent shadows evident beneath her silkily lashed dark eyes. The sight was so unexpected that Christina could do little more than gape in slack-jawed astonishment at her youngest offspring.

Growing sharply curious about what had caused this peculiar reaction from his wife, Gyles Sutton twisted promptly about in his chair to find his daughter, still very much in a state of dishabille, weaving an unsteady path toward the table. Stealing the very words from his awestruck wife, he blurted, "Good heavens, child! Have you fallen ill?"

The jerky, irresolute movement of the dark head was somewhere between a nod and a shake as Adriana halted beside her customary place at the table. Beneath the combined stares of her astounded parents, she passed a shaking hand over her face and managed to croak, "Nay, Father, I'm not ill."

Gyles indicated her disheveled appearance as if to draw attention to the fact that she was not already dressed and definitely far from her sprightly self. What he saw convinced him that something was indeed seriously wrong. "If you're not ill, girl, then what the devil has taken hold of you?"

Adriana opened her mouth to reply, only to emit another hoarse croak, motivating her to clasp slender fingers to her lips in surprise. She tried to swallow against the large lump that seemed wedged there, but, in her failure, was forced to respond with a quick, negative shake of her head. In abject misery, she lowered herself as awkwardly as an ancient crone into her chair.

"Well, I know very well that something is the matter!" Gyles insisted. Though generally at a complete loss when discerning the moods of the elder two, he knew his youngest only too well. Concern affected his voice. It seemed to rumble upward from somewhere deep in his chest as he cajoled, "Now tell me, child, what is bothering you?"

"Dear …" Christina sweetly plied with a tentative smile, drawing her husband's curious regard. "You didn't return from London until late last night, and I was reluctant to tell you…."

"Tell me what?" Immediately suspicious, he braced a forearm along the table's edge and peered at her intently. More than thirty years of marriage and three daughters had taught him a few things about women … especially his wife. She was never sweeter than when she had bad news to relate. Recognizing the soft plea in her eyes, he became increasingly anxious. "What the hell-fired blazes is going on here?"

"Calm yourself, dear … please," Christina urged and nervously rearranged the linen napkin on her lap.

"Perhaps I will, madam, if you will kindly tell me what you have to say," he bargained gruffly, revealing his heightening apprehension. "Now, what is it? I implore you to tell me before I'm seized with a fit of apoplexy!"

Christina glanced toward their butler who had approached and was presently moving around the table, setting their plates before them. Charles was incredibly loyal, but she was loath to discuss family matters in front of servants.

"Madam, I'm waiting," Gyles reminded her.

Christina smiled gingerly, seeing no help for her predicament. "Only that Colton Wyndham has finally returned home."

Gyles's face took on a shade that closely resembled dark magenta. "The devil, you say!"

His bellow was loud enough to draw starts from both Adriana and his wife. Charles, however, seemed oblivious to hisemployer's show of temper. With an uncompromising air of dignity, he fetched the water pitcher from a side table.

Adriana clasped her hands over her ears as her father's thunderous tones seemed to reverberate within her sore brain. Lifting her slender bare feet off the floor onto the seat of her chair, she curled into a small, discomfited knot, and fought against a strengthening urge to cry.

Lady Christina's fingers trembled as Charles returned a glass of water to her hand. Ever the dignified lady, she sat rigidly in her chair as she urged her husband in a gently admonishing tone, "Don't shout, dear. The servants will think you're angry with us."

"Humph!"Gyles peered askance at the butler, who seemed the very paradigm of tranquillity. "Charles should know by now that I lose my temper on occasion, rare though it be."

"Yes, my lord," the butler agreed, revealing no more than a trace of a smile in spite of his amusement. With the possible exception of his lordship himself, everyone in the house was keenly cognizant of the topics that could ignite the man's outrage. More than not, they had to do with matters concerning his youngest daughter and her many suitors. She certainly had a way about her that seemed to bring waves of admirers to their stoop, which, of course, did much to spark her father's protective instincts.

The housekeeper entered the dining room and crossed it with a rapid patter of footfalls. Having been in the Suttons' employ well before their first daughter was born, Henrietta Reeves did not show the slightest hesitation as she progressed toward the end of the table where his lordship sat. Halting beside his chair, she presented a silver dish bearing a rumpled letter sealed with a rather large, incongruous blotch of red wax. "Mr. Elston stopped by earlier this morning, my lord," she explained in muted tones. "He asked me to give you this as soon as Lady Adriana came downstairs. He said the missive was most urgent."

"Thank you, Henrietta," Gyles replied in a tone only slightly less gruff. He broke the seal as the servants withdrewand, unfolding the crumpled letter, began to read. After a moment, one dark brow arched sharply upward, deepening lines across his forehead that normally were barely noticeable.

The Earl of Standish hadn't needed a thunderbolt to strike him before he had become suspicious of Roger Elston's attempts to play upon his daughter's sympathies. It had been his concern from the beginning that the apprentice was seeking some secure foothold in her life. He had deplored the man's methods. Having been carefully instructed himself in the manners of a gentleman by his own sire, Gyles had long been of the belief that propriety demanded a fellow, no matter his circumstance in life, remain mum about his difficulties except to those who were required to know. Among the citizens of Bradford on Avon, Adriana was notoriously compassionate toward people in need. Thus, when Roger had disclosed to her many of the arduous travails he had suffered in his youth and the years thereafter, Gyles had taken umbrage at his effrontery. It hadn't helped a father's mounting qualms to realize she had perhaps shown a more kindly tolerance of the apprentice than she had ever exhibited toward aristocrats who, while seeking parental permission to woo her, had been more inclined to abide by lofty codes of behavior. If not for his agreement with his old friend, Gyles would have lent serious consideration to the requests he had received for her hand from several noblemen he had deemed above reproach, the most promising being Riordan Kendrick. Approving of such a courtship would have given him good reason to forbid Roger's visits, which to his great annoyance had often come about unannounced and without prior knowledge of Adriana.

Perhaps he was merely reacting to something many would claim as nothing more than a father's overprotective instincts, but Gyles just couldn't shake the suspicion that Roger's main purpose for attaching himself to Adriana was to marry into wealth, just as his unprincipled sire had done before him, or perhaps even to reap the benefits to be gained through the demise of a spouse, by which method, according to rumors, Edmund Elston had profited either by natural or deliberate means.

"What is it, dear?" Christina inquired, unable to ignore her husband's deepening scowl.

Lowering the missive, Gyles lent his consideration to his handsome wife. "Perhaps, my dear, this dispatch has been delivered to our stoop this very morning because Roger has recently become mindful of Colton's return. In any case, he respectfully petitions us to reconsider with all possible speed his proposal of marriage to our daughter…."

Adriana's head snapped up, and she stared at her father as if he were the one who had taken leave of his senses instead of Roger Elston. "What will you tell him?"

"What would you have me tell him, my dear? The truth? That there's little chance that you will accept such an offer?"

She blushed beneath her father's probing stare and considered her tightly entwined fingers. "I thought the last time Roger asked that it would be sufficient impediment if he knew of my betrothal to Colton. I didn't wish to wound him unduly, Father, neither did I want to encourage him, only to soften the blow to his pride. He'd have likely taken exception to any mention of the differences in our lineage. I'm afraid, however, that he has shown himself rather foolhardy now that Colton has returned. For his own good, he must be told that I cannot possibly accept his offer of marriage."

Gyles probed the dark, luminous eyes that lifted to his. The girl's chagrin was all too apparent. "What has happened to finally convince you of this need for honesty, my child?"

Adriana brushed at the tears welling forth, far more angry at herself than she had ever imagined she had been with her father for asking her to let him be completely candid with the apprentice. "I'm afraid Roger acted unseemly toward Colton yesterday while we were at Randwulf Manor."

"Unseemly?" Gyles repeated, elevating a brow as he considered her tears. "How so?"

Adriana tried to swallow the lump in her throat and made avaliant attempt to present a calm demeanor. "No matter how far-fetched it may seem now in retrospect, it became evident at the onset of their meeting that Roger bore a grudge against Colton. If not for the intervention of Leo and Aris, he would've likely set upon the marquess with fisticuffs right off… or, at least, so tried. When he finally launched an attack, it was quickly dealt with by Colton. Even hampered by a leg injury, Colton sent him flying across the room, leaving the stable hands the task of carting Roger home. Frankly, I don't understand why Roger took such a chance. Colton has a physique very much like his father's. At the very least, he's half a head taller than Roger and not only heavier, but solidly made." The colonel's nakedness had proven that fact only too well. Never before had she imagined that the flesh over a man's ribs could be so tautly rippled. "Only a fool or a very brave man would've made such an attempt, and yet Roger sought three times to keep Colton away from me. The last one he was socked across the room."

"He dared be so forward?" her mother whispered in horror. Receiving a disconcerted nod from her daughter, Christina turned to peruse her husband's frowning countenance in spite of the fact that he had always been far better at reading her mind than she had his. "Gyles, dear, Adriana is right. Someone must tell the lad it's useless for him to hope that we'll consider his proposal of marriage. It just cannot be … certainly not with the betrothal contract to be honored … nor without it even. I know Adriana has been unwilling to destroy the young man's hopes because of the past travails he has suffered, first estranged from his father and then orphaned as he was by his mother's death at so young an age. As much as we can sympathize with him for what he has had to endure, ‘twould certainly seem from what Adriana has said that he has taken too much upon himself by demonstrating some claim to her, especially when he knows she's obligated to accept Colton's courtship. What must his lordship be thinking now that he has been set upon by the apprentice?"

"You're right, of course, my dear," Gyles agreed. "The lad must be told. I shall make every effort to explain to him the necessity of our daughter marrying a man from the peerage…."

Adriana shook her head passionately. "Nay, Father, I pray you not be so direct with Roger. I fear he'll take offense."

"He does seem to make much ado about his poor lot in life," Gyles replied, trying not to scowl. Had Roger been less inclined to play upon his daughter's sympathies, Gyles thought perhaps he may have been able to like the fellow better. It was a devious way for any man to claim attention from a lady, especially one sensitive to the hardships of others. "Nevertheless, Roger must be told that you have certain obligations and that you cannot possibly see him anymore."

Adriana wrung her hands. This situation was of her own making; she should never have allowed Roger to visit her at her home. It was obvious now he had mistaken her compassion for something more. "Perhaps I should be the one to tell him. After all, it was my fault that he came here in the first place."

"You were only being kind, dear," her mother avouched. "You didn't realize he'd become desirous of having you for himself."

"Humph!‘Tis that stubborn whelp, Colton Wyndham, I'd like to horsewhip!" Gyles muttered sourly. "If not for his defiance, I wouldn't have been forced to contend with all the ambitious, young cocks who think they're doing me an enormous favor by plying for my daughter's hand… as if she were some aging spinster facing a life of solitude! No doubt, young Wyndham would be astounded at the number of eligible lords I've had to discourage in my attempt to honor our contract with his father. If not for Sedgwick's uncompromising belief that you'd be of great benefit to his son and he'd be just as good for you, Adriana, I'd have begged him to abandon his plans for Colton long ago. Recently I had come to believe the matter was behind us and that the young whelp would never return. But now, it all begins anew."

"No longer a young whelp, my dear," Christina corrected her husband gently. "He's a man now, more than thirty."

Gyles leaned back in his chair, his jaw slowly sagging in surprise. "Thirty, you say?"

"To be precise, Father, thirty and two," Adriana stated.

"I was married and had a daughter on the way by the time I was his age," Gyles declared, as if aghast at the idea that a man could ignore his duties as prime heir for so long a period of time. "By now, Wyndham should be ready to settle down and start a family."

Adriana clasped her arms about her knees and once again knitted her shaking fingers together. Her voice quavered almost as much. "Obviously he had been told about the contract sometime yesterday afternoon, because he was cognizant of it last night. He just mentioned the period of courtship, not the betrothal that might follow. Perhaps he wasn't willing to consider anything more than that in light of his reluctance to return home. In any case, he asked me to give you his regards and to inform you that he'll be sending a missive over to inquire into a suitable time for his visit."

Christina noticed that a brighter pink had swept into her daughter's pale cheeks, a sure sign the girl was upset. Curiously she asked, "Has he changed much, dear?"

Adriana tried desperately not to think of how handsome her would-be fiancé had become during his absence from home or the beauty of his long, muscular torso, which she couldn't help but admire in retrospect. Except for places where there had been a moderate furring of dark hair across his chest, and the thin line that traced down his taut belly to the darker mass, his naked body had gleamed with the luster of warm bronze in the flickering glow of the lantern light. "More than you can imagine, Mother."

Christina's hand began to tremble, so much so that she was forced to lay aside her fork. Making every effort to hide her mounting apprehension, she clenched her hands in her lap. "Has he been noticeably scarred by the war?"

"Noticeably scarred?" Adriana repeated distantly. Though she gazed out the diamond-paned windows toward the rolling hills beyond the manse, she saw nothing but an image of the man to whom she had been promised. Lost in a tangle of thoughts, she barely moved her shoulders in a responsive shrug. "At Waterloo, he was severely wounded and, because of that reason, was prevented from making a timely return."

"Oh, dear, I hope the wound wasn't too dreadful," her mother replied worriedly, imagining the worst. "Can you bear to look upon him?"

"I must admit it wasn't easy to remain composed." Even now, Adriana had difficulty maintaining her aplomb when she recalled the jolt of excitement that had shot through her when she had been caught up against his steely form. Gooseflesh and weak knees were definitely a rare experience for her; she hadn't known such exquisite sensations could be evoked merely by the pressure of a man's body against her own … or the memory of that moment… or the one in the bathing chamber, which in recall seemed far more thrilling. She certainly had to reform her opinion on the subject of stimuli if being in a man's embrace and seeing him naked could affect her in such diversely tempestuous degrees. After hearing Colton's heated rejection of her so many years ago, she had remained distantly detached from would-be suitors to protect herself against the possibility of ever being wounded again, but the shock of her recent encounter with Colton had awakened sensations far different from anything she had ever experienced before.

Fighting against visions of a hideously scarred man, Christina pressed a napkin against lips, which now trembled with her ever-mounting concerns. "As difficult a task as that?"

"Hmmm—," Adriana answered with a slow nod, trying not to think back upon that moment in the gallery when Colton had grinned down at her as he held her clasped against his long body. Had she been able to read his thoughts, she probably would have had cause to slap his face. The prurient glow in his eyes had seemed to warrant such a reaction from her. In thebathing chamber, the pleasure he had obviously derived from ogling her naked form had been confirmed in a most embarrassing way, yet he had seemed totally unabashed by that fact or that she had all but gawked at him. It was rather humiliating to realize in retrospect that the very one who had once rejected her years ago was also the one who had awakened her womanly desires.

"Oh, dear," her mother murmured apprehensively. A disfigured face was certainly no honorable excuse for terminating a contract of marriage, especially when such wounds had been gained in valiant service to one's country. Still, imagining her beautiful young daughter entrapped in the arms of a hideous monster made her stomach convulse. From there, her concerns swiftly mounted by torturous degrees.

Adriana struggled up from the depths of sleep and reluctantly lifted her head off the pillow, allowing her to bestow an ominous squint upon her bedchamber door from whence came an insistent rapping. Her father had left the house shortly after breakfast, and she had dragged herself back to her bedchamber to try to get some more sleep with the hope that, if she did, she would feel better. Her mother was too polite to do anything more than gently tap more than three or four times upon the portal, which seemed to leave none other than her sister, Melora, as the determined culprit.

"Enter if you dare," Adriana called out irritably. "Or better yet, just go away. I really don't want to see anyone right now."

As she might have expected from her sibling, the door swung wide. Adriana was just in the mood to set her testy sister back upon her heels for daring to disturb her, but, much to her surprise, it was not Melora who hastened in, but Samantha, wearing a cape and bonnet.

"What? You lazy thing, are you still slumbering at this hour of the morning?" Samantha asked in amazement. She had grown up with this particular individual and been occasionally annoyed by and even envious of Adriana's ability to present a cheery disposition even at the crack of dawn. For once, Samantha could revel in the chance to return a sampling of all the reproaches she had received from the energetic young woman. "Shame on you. Here you are, lying abed amid your silken sheets while others are suffering in misery. Now get up and get dressed. We have some business to attend in Bradford."

Adriana moaned as she buried her face beneath a pillow. "I don't feel at all well this morning," she mumbled miserably from underneath its feathery confines. "Whatever you're up to, you'll have to take care of it without me. My head is aching too much for me to even contemplate leaving my bed, much less my home."

"Nevertheless, you're coming," Samantha insisted, sweeping the bedcovers off her friend as that one tried her best to burrow beneath them. "The scullery maid who was let go from Wyndham Manor last night has three young children who, according to the groom that carried her into her cottage, looked to be very much in a bad way. He said all three were terribly thin and garbed in filthy rags. As much as you may want to lie abed till a late hour, lazybones, we must go see what we can do to help those children."

"Who will help me if I become ill?" Adriana demanded petulantly.

"You shouldn't have drunk so much wine last night," Samantha chided. "You know it always makes you sick the next day. Besides, a little fresh air will be more beneficial to you than lying abed all day. Now get up. I refuse to allow you to hide out in your bedchamber like a spineless little coward simply because my brother has returned."

Adriana groaned in rebellion and flopped over on her back. Squinting at the ceiling above her head, she couldn't even begin to imagine the agony she'd suffer trying to get out of bed. "What in the world did I ever do to deserve a friend as heartless as you?"

"Well, if you want me to start naming the reasons, we'll be here for some time, which we don't have," the other woman rejoined sprightly and went to the armoire to search through the gowns it contained. "Now get washed and please hurry yourself along while you're doing it. I don't have all morning to stay here and listen to you whine like a pampered youngling. You're going with me, and that's all there is to it, so you might as well accept that as a fact, because it will do you little good to resist."

"Sometimes I think I hate you," Adriana moaned dejectedly.

"I know, but most of the time you adore the very ground I walk on."

"Humph!"

Less than an hour later, the Burkes' driver nudged the pair of lead horses of the four-in-hand close behind the boot of another conveyance parked in front of a small, shabby hut. In growing curiosity, Samantha craned her neck to peer out at the dapperly garbed driver who stood alongside. At his friendly wave, she frowned in bemusement, recognizing her family's driver, Bentley.

"What on earth is Colton doing here?"

A gasp issued forth from Adriana's throat as she sat upright, her headache forgotten. As she peered out, Bentley waved again. Her response was rather weakly conveyed with fluttering fingers before she collapsed back into her seat again. After their encounter in the bathing chamber, the last person she wanted to meet was the marquess. "Why don't you go inside and ask him while I sit here and wait for you," Adriana hurriedly suggested. "If Colton is already seeing to the needs of the children, then you certainly don't need me with you."

"Nonsense, you're not getting off that easily," Samantha informed her. "You're coming in with me even if I have to drag you."

"I'm sick …," Adriana complained, pressing a trembling hand to her brow. Just the idea of having to face his lordship made her stomach roll queasily; no telling what it would do if he gave her one of those confident, manly grins that seemed to have the ability to strip away whatever pride she once had.

"Not as sick as you're going to be if I have to send Colton out here to carry you in," the older woman warned.

A forlorn sigh was greatly exaggerated as Adriana bemoaned her plight. "You're bereft of pity."

"Why? Because I won't let you wallow in the maudlin mire you've created for yourself? I once thought you had fortitude, at least more than you've been evidencing since my brother returned, but obviously I was mistaken about that. You certainly don't appear to have much backbone now. No, nary a thin thread."

Adriana raised her dainty chin as she took umbrage at her friend's claim. "The way I feel right now has absolutely nothing to do with your brother."

"Good, then it isn't going to bother you any if we go in and see what he's about."

Adriana lifted her upper lip in a mutinous sneer as her friend alighted. "If you treat Percy the way you do me, all I can say is that it's a downright miracle he hasn't disappeared over the border to Scotland."

"He can't! If you haven't noticed lately, there's a ball and chain attached to his ankle," Samantha flung back as she sashayed up the rough stone walk.

Mumbling sourly to herself, Adriana made a reluctant descent with the driver's help and followed her companion inside the cramped, dank, sparsely furnished cottage.

As the two women stepped through the open door of the hut, Colton turned solemnly from the cot upon which lay an ominously draped form. He managed a meager smile for his sister before his eyes moved beyond her to the slender woman who had followed. Though Adriana felt his gaze sweep her from head to foot, his inspection seemed more like a strongly ingrained propensity of the human male than anything deliberate, for his expression remained noticeably somber. Behind him, the hearth was dark, dank, and cold. Across the room stood three young children, ranging in age from two to five. Huddled together in a far corner, they stared in wide-eyed trepidation at the strangers who had entered their home. Seeing their filthy state and the thinness of their faces and bodies, Adriana forgot her own misery as her heart went out to them.

"I'm glad you're both here," Colton acknowledged in a muted tone.

Samantha dragged her gaze away from the morbid shape shrouded by a badly frayed quilt and lifted a silent inquiry to her brother. He nodded, affirming her suspicions that the mother of the children was dead.

"Obviously she died shortly after she was brought here," he explained in a muted tone. "She was stiff and cold when I arrived. I can't imagine how she could've consumed so much brandy, but she obviously did, at least enough to kill her."

Once again, his eyes shifted to Adriana. In spite of the gloomy circumstances of the moment, he seemed once again naturally disposed to look her over from pert bonnet to small, neatly slippered feet.

"I haven't been able to approach the children," he explained quietly. "They're terrified of me."

Adriana hurried to the waifs and, in spite of their mewling fear, doffed her cape and wrapped it around the youngest, a tiny girl with straggly, unkempt blond hair and a dirt-encrusted face. Lifting the child within her arms, she held out a hand to the second oldest.

"Come, children," she bade in a motherly tone, "we're going to take you to a nice, warm, wonderful home where there's a very kindly couple who love children."

The eldest boy shook his head. "Can't. Gotta stay here an' look aftah me sister an' brother. That's what me mum tol' me I should do no matter what."

"You can still watch over them at the Abernathys'," Adriana reasoned, "but there you'll be warm, fed, and clothed. Do you happen to know the Abernathys?"

Once again, the boy responded with a negative movement of his head. "Me mum didn't want us leavin' the house whilst she was gone. Said some strangers'd take us ta the work houses."

"Well, let me tell you a little bit about the Abernathys, and then they will cease to be strangers. They're an older couple who live in the country, not too far from here, in fact. They'venever been able to have children of their own, and yet, because of their desire to have a large family, they've been taking in orphans and raising them as their own for some years now. They've also adopted animals in much the same manner. Do you like animals?" At the eldest boy's chary shrug, Adriana began to chant off various kinds that she had seen at the couple's home as she playfully tossed her head from side to side. "They have cats and dogs and chickens and geese and goats and sheep and horses and cows…." She paused to drag in an exaggerated breath, and then questioned, "Have you ever milked a cow?"

The eldest shook his dirt-mired head. "Nope. We ain't hardly seen a cow, ‘less someone led her past our cottage. We been livin' here since our pa was killed in the war. Me mum ne'er wanted us ta go out."

"You poor darlings, have you never been outside to play or to see the trees or the sun?"

"Only from the windows."

Adriana was totally amazed that a mother could do such a thing to her children. "It's wonderful to be outside when the sun is shining and there are butterflies flitting about, to see the animals, and to breathe in the fresh air. Outdoors is not a bad place at all. Although there are some evil people of whom children must be wary, the Abernathys are very kind, tenderhearted folk who can be trusted. They love to teach little ones all about animals and also how to read, write, and cipher. Can you do any of that?"

Again she received a negative reply from the eldest boy.

"Well, Mr. Abernathy just happens to be a very fine tutor, and he loves children as much as his wife does. Besides that, he's very clever at whittling animals out of wood. Would you like to have a wooden animal of your own?"

This time she smiled as she gained an affirmative response. "Then I can almost promise you ere the evening comes nigh that each of you will have one. But before we can reach the place where the Abernathys live, we must all go for a ride inone of those nice, shiny carriages outdoors. Would you like that?"

The three orphans looked at each other warily.

"Don't know," the eldest boy mumbled. "Ain't ne'er ridden in one afore."

Adriana laughed and cuddled the tiny girl in her arms. "Then you're about to have your first ride in a conveyance fit for a prince. My friends and I will take you to the Abernathys' and introduce you to all the orphans the couple have taken under their wing. You can question them about their home just to see if they're pleased and happy to be living with the family. If they're not, then you needn't stay. We'll find another kindly soul who'll care for you, but I bet the children living under their roof are as delighted to be there as you will be in time. In fact, I don't think I can recommend a nicer place for children to be."

"Me ma's dead, ain't she?" the boy blurted.

Adriana slowly nodded. "I regret to say she is. That's why we've come… to help you. But first, I should know your names." She grew thoughtful for a moment as she considered the dirty face of the child she held in her arms, then she peered questioningly at the eldest and ventured a wild guess. "Something tells me that your name is Thomas…."

"Joshua … Joshua Jennings," he announced and threw a thumb to indicate the ragamuffin at his side. "Me brother here is Jeremiah. An' me sister's Sarah."

"Well, it sounds as if the three of you were named after characters in the Bible. That's truly an honor. Did your mother name you perhaps?"

"Nah, me pa did. She weren't fond o' readin', but whilst me pa were alive, he used ta read ta us from the good book. He e'en started teachin' me ta read, but, afore he finished, he went off ta fight in the war an' got shot dead."

"I'm truly sorry, children." Adriana looked at each sympathetically, and then asked, "Have you ever heard the story of Joshua and the battle of Jericho, how the men were instructedto march around the city six days and on the seventh to march seven times around it and then to blow the ram's horns …? To everyone's amazement, the walls fell down."

A slow, negative shake of the grimy head provided a mute reply. "Don't recall. Ain't heard no more stories since me pa went off ta war," the lad mumbled and held up four fingers, black as soot. "I weren't but maybe this many when he left. After that, me ma ne'er wanted ta tell us stories. She traded the good book off for a bottle o' gin, an' a few vittles. When she'd work, she'd come home wit' mo' o' the same. She'd stay in bed a few days, sippin' gin, an' then go out an' find mo' work ta buy some more."

"Well, I happen to know that Mrs. Abernathy is very fond of the Bible, and she'd be happy to read it to you. It has some very exciting stories about men and women with names like your own." Indicating the marquess with a nod of her head, she announced, "This nice gentleman here is Lord Randwulf. He will make all the necessary arrangements so you can stay with the Abernathys until you're old enough to go off to learn professions worthy of respect. Now, if you'll let him and Lady Burke help you into one of the shiny black carriages outside, I shall follow close behind with your sister."

Colton was dumbstruck by the young beauty's ability to charm the three, who upon his initial entry into the cottage, had fled with frightened screams into a corner where they had crouched together in absolute terror. Until his eyes had finally adjusted to the gloom, all he had been able to see in the dark, drab, soot-shrouded interior were their huge eyes, wide with a kind of feral fear, staring at him from thin, grimy faces. No matter how he had tried to convince them that he meant them no harm, they had cowered away and then, whenever he'd try to approach, would start screaming, as if they had expected to be soundly thrashed or taken off to some evil place, as their mother had warned. Yet when Adriana had entered, the situation had been entirely different. It was obvious she had a natural way of talking to children that easily calmed their trepidations and won their trust. He had no doubt that one dayshe would make a wonderful mother … possibly for offspring she would bear him.

Once outside, Colton lifted the children in his sister's carriage and then, after handing Samantha in, turned to Adriana, delaying her a moment as he took her fingers within his. "I'm indebted to you," he said in a muted tone. " ‘Twould seem I'm not very gifted with children, at least not these poor, frightened waifs. I was at a complete loss until you came. Thank you for your kindness and help."

Adriana couldn't help but smile. His voice, soft, warm, and soothing, had seemed to stroke along her senses. "Poor cherubs, ‘tis evident they've been lacking compassion and care for some time, but the Abernathys will change that for the better. They're very wonderful people. I have no doubt these children will come to love them in time, as have others who were fortunate enough to have been found by the couple. Mrs. Abernathy swears they've truly been blessed with a large family now. Still, with so many to feed and clothe, they must work hard to provide for the ones they've taken in. If you're of such a mind, my lord, perhaps you could spare something to help them in that endeavor. ‘Twill be greatly appreciated by all concerned. If not, I'm sure my father would be willing to give more…."

"No need to bother him, Adriana. I'll gladly take care of the matter myself. Indeed, I came here this morning for that precise purpose, to see to the welfare of the children after the groom told Harrison the three were in desperate need, but when I entered and discovered their mother had died, I really didn't know how to go about finding a suitable home for them without hiring some woman to take care of them. It sounds like the Abernathys are the type of loving, caring people these children need. Thank you for coming to my rescue … and for comforting the children. If not for you, I'd probably still be in there, trying to win their trust."

"They'll likely want to know in years to come where their real mother is buried," Adriana murmured, pleased that he was willing to subsidize the Abernathys for taking care of the children.

"I'll see that she's buried in a marked grave and that proper words are spoken as her body is laid to rest. I'll make arrangements today and then inform the Abernathys of the time so they can bring the children. In fact, if you're of such a mind, the three would likely be pleased to see you there, for you seem to have won their trust. Would you consider accompanying me to the woman's funeral on the morrow?"

"Of course, my lord." She lifted a smile to him, realizing she was feeling far better than she had all morning. Indeed, after seeing evidence of his empathy toward complete strangers, her spirits had been buoyed by a rekindling hope. The day now seemed far brighter and much more beautiful. "Just let me know what time and I'll be ready."

"I'll send someone over to Wakefield with that information just as soon as I know when the arrangements will be. There's no need for us to go separately. I shall come around to fetch you in the landau about a half hour before the service. Would that meet with your approval?"

"Will Samantha be going?" Adriana asked, hoping to have someone else with them.

"I shall ask her later about going. As for now, we'd better get the children to the Abernathys' so they can be fed, bathed, and clothed."

"Thank you for the consideration you've extended to these children, my lord," she replied with heartfelt gratitude. " ‘Tis obvious they haven't had much of a life since their father left, but they'll have a much better one in the future."

"'Tis I who should be beholden to you, Adriana. Never once while you and Samantha were tending all those stray animals you were wont to bring home did I lend consideration to the possibility there'd come a day when I'd be overwhelmed with relief to see that gentle, nurturing instinct in action once again. It was definitely helpful in calming the fears of homeless waifs in need of loving care. May I never again laugh at you—or Samantha—about your role as a good Samaritan."

The corners of Adriana's mouth turned upward tantalizingly. "I shall remind you of your words if you ever broach thesubject again. As was your wont when you were younger, you seem to enjoy teasing us, no matter the circumstances."

A slow grin curved his handsome lips as his eyes glowed into hers. "Oh, I needn't resort to pestering you about your admirable qualities when I now have far more intriguing memories to rag you about." Briefly his gaze descended to caress her breasts. "I shan't by any degree forget those revealing moments."

Feeling the heat of a blush flooding into her cheeks, Adriana turned away abruptly and felt his hand sliding beneath her elbow as he lent her assistance into the carriage. Though she was of a mind to snub him, it was the gentle tightening of his grip upon her arm that swept away all thoughts of retribution. If she hadn't lost her wits entirely, then she'd be inclined to think his touch could have been an affectionate squeeze.

"So! I hear Colton Wyndham has finally returned to claim his rightful title as Lord Randwulf," Melora announced, plopping herself down beside her youngest sister as they waited for their mother to serve tea. The petite blonde wiggled her hips as if trying to get comfortable on the huge ottoman, motivating Adriana to roll her eyes at her sister's antics. With all the other chairs, settees, and ottomans in the drawing room, it seemed unnecessary for Melora to crowd her off the cushion in order to acquire more room for herself.

"Are you comfortable now?" Adriana inquired, barely able to restrain her sarcasm.

"Yes, thank you," Melora replied pertly, bobbing her head once as if happily reaffirming her answer.

"You wished to talk with me privately?" This time an acute ear would have detected the copious dash of derision flavoring Adriana's tone.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. All these years I've been most curious about something. Perhaps you'd care to enlighten me since Lord Sedgwick doted upon you so much."

A delicately sweeping brow jutted upward suspiciously. "Yes?"

"I've often wondered if Lord Sedgwick ever regretted the contract he initiated between Colton and you and which one actually came to rue his agreement more, his lordship or his son. Had he been able to foresee Colton's willingness to leave home rather than face the rest of his life with you, Lord Sedgwick probably would have chosen Jaclyn or me rather than staking his aspirations entirely upon the idea of Colton marrying you. No one has ever explained just why he seemed to favor you as a choice for his heir. But, of course, that is now neither here nor there. The past has been etched in stone. What can yet be adjusted is still in the future. So, tell me, what do you think of your betrothed now that you've seen him again?"

Bristling at Melora's taunting theories and inquiries, Adriana declared emphatically, "Colton is not my betrothed, and he may never be, so stop calling him that. You know the contract as well as I do. He has three months of courtship in which to decide if he'd be amenable to a betrothal before actually committing himself to it, so until then, if you'd kindly refrain from addressing him as such, I'd be ever so grateful for your forbearance, bereft of understanding and diplomacy as it obviously is." Not willing to mention her meeting with Colton that morning, she lifted her shoulders in a noncommittal shrug. "Who can rightly judge the manner of a man in a few hours' time? Colton seems nice enough, but then, we are little more than strangers."

"Is he handsome?"

Adriana was reluctant to give Melora any information that might return somewhat distorted. "He strongly favors his father."

"Oh, then he must be very handsome. Didn't you think so?"

"I always thought Lord Sedgwick was a very distinguished-looking man, so I suppose, in that same respect, I must admit that Colton is just as worthy to gaze upon."

"Do you think he's all that anxious to proceed with the courtship after being away so many years? After his rebellious refusal to consider the proposed nuptials so long ago, he'd probably now prefer to negate the whole thing."

Keenly aware of her sister's penchant for tweaking her nose whenever she could and prying into her feelings until every fragment of knowledge had been thoroughly divested of any confidentiality, Adriana bolted from the overstuffed cushion in a bit of a snit and hastened across the room to receive a cup of tea from her mother.

"Thank you, Mama," she murmured, grateful her parent had such a calming influence on her. Leisurely she savored a sip before accepting a plate of scones her mother had spread with a thin layer of clotted cream and strawberry preserves.

Joining her sister, Melora made a point of sizing her up. "You know, Adriana, you really should wear fuller gowns to disguise the fact that you're so tall and thin. And may I also suggest that a little rouge on your cheeks would be beneficial. You look like death warmed over. But then, I'm sure the trauma you've been experiencing since Colton's return has something to do with that. As much as I can sympathize with your mounting fears that he'll reject you as harshly as he did years ago, you really shouldn't allow your emotions to become so obvious. ‘Tis the English way to keep your feelings well confined, though obviously you've never learned the art of appearing serene. Everything is written on your face for all the world to see. Why, I can almost read what you're thinking when I look into your eyes."

Adriana bestowed a loving smile upon her mother, trying her best to ignore her sibling, who at times could be as vexing as a hangnail. "The tea is delightful as usual, Mama. You always know just the right combination of cream and sugar to make it so flavorful."

"Thank you, my dear," Christina said, reaching out and squeezing her youngest daughter's hand fondly. "You have such a wonderful knack for making me feel special even when the services I do for my family are so simple."

Imposing herself between them, Melora placed a doting kiss upon the older woman's cheek. "That's because you are special, Mama."

"Save some of that affection for me," Gyles bade with a chortle as he strode into the drawing room.

Whirling with a gay laugh, Melora seemed to float across the room toward him in her haste to claim his attention. Bracing her hands upon his wide shoulders as he leaned down to her, she rose on tiptoes and brushed a kiss upon his cheek. Only Sedgwick Wyndham had ever seemed taller than her father, whose own towering height dwarfed her. Even her fiancé, who was shorter and of stockier build, seemed to loom over her at times. "Papa, you know you will always have my heart in your hands."

"Oh, none of that pretty cajolery now," he rumbled through his laughter, squeezing her shoulder fondly. "I know very well your heart has been stolen away by that young buck you're about to marry. I have no doubt when you leave here you'll be taking a piece of mine with you."

Smiling in satisfaction, Melora tossed an imperious glance toward Adriana. She was forever mindful of the amount of attention bestowed on her by her parents, other kinfolk, and friends in comparison to what her sisters received, especially since their father, because of common interests in hunting, riding, archery, and other pastimes, seemed to spend far more time with his youngest than he did his two older offspring. Melora never felt more gratified and victorious than when he bestowed lavish praise or testaments of love upon her in the presence of the other two. Yet she felt a sharp sense of disappointment when she realized that Adriana was oblivious to what was going on behind her. Her sister was staring almost wistfully through the diamond-paned windows overlooking the front lawns and the narrow lane that wended its way past their house toward the Wyndhams'.

Unwilling to let this ambiguous affront go unrequited, Melora offered the conjecture, "I suppose Adriana's wedding can't be too far off now that Colton is back, Papa, unless of course she does something foolish, like allowing that scamp, Roger, to pop in unannounced as he seems inclined to do. I doubt that Colton is going to have enough patience for that, not after the countless battles he has been engaged in since the onset of his military career. From all reports, he was quite awarrior, dashing into danger ahead of his men. No wonder he was seriously wounded."

A sudden clatter of dishes on the tea table caused Gyles's brows to gather in solicitous concern as he peered across the room toward his wife. "Is all well with you, my dear?"

Christina nodded stoically, fearful of making any comment lest she betray her concerns. Since the early morning meal, both Roger Elston and Colton Wyndham had been preying heavily upon her mind, but it was her fear of the latter's scarred appearance that had created her greatest anxiety. As much as Melora had sought information about the man, she hadn't been able to bring herself to talk of his disfigurement, only that he had been seriously wounded. Bravely she offered a smile to her husband. "Would you care for a cup of tea, Gyles?"

"Only if I can sit beside you and our daughters and drink in the warmth of your combined company."

Looping an arm possessively through his, Melora led him to the settee where he took a seat beside their mother. Melora claimed the only available spot next to him and then lifted a smug smile to her sister as that one turned from the window and approached. In an imperious manner, Melora indicated a chair across from them. "You'll have to sit there, Addy. I know how you hate sharing Papa's attention, yet ‘tis only fair that you do, considering how soon I'll be getting married and leaving here."

Bestowing a glare upon her sister, Adriana settled into the proffered chair. Though she casually rejected Melora's accusations of possessiveness as nothing more than something brewed from her sibling's imagination, she was annoyed by the other's tendency to shorten her name. "Don't call me that, Melora. You know I dislike that moniker."

Melora dismissed her exasperated directive with a cavalier shrug of her shoulders. "Well, it suits you."

The dark eyes narrowed ominously. "It does not!"

"Does, too!"

"Girls! Girls! Behave yourselves!" Christina urged. "Youknow it isn't becoming for ladies to bicker. The both of you sound like a pair of old scolds."

Melora offered a pretty pout for the benefit of their mother. "Just because I call Adriana a pet name now and then, she gets all riled and out of sorts. She's so prickly."

Gyles cast a sidelong glance toward his fair-haired daughter in time to catch the superior smirk she tossed toward her younger sister. He also noticed how quickly her expression changed to a look of doe-eyed innocence when he made a point of clearing his throat to draw her attention.

"Is something wrong, Papa?" Melora asked, making every effort to smile sweetly. At the moment, a grimace might have been easier for her to manage.

Lifting his gaze reflectively to the ceiling, Gyles seemed to ponder the decorative molding with close attention. "Ladies shouldn't make haughty faces either. One never knows when paralysis could strike."

"Haughty faces?" Melora repeated in a guise of angelic innocence. "Who …?" She turned to her sibling with widened eyes, as if she were the one at fault. "Adriana, what did you do?"

"Melora." Gyles lowered his head and stared directly into the blue eyes that lifted in sweet confusion to meet his. Beneath his pointed stare, he noticed a red hue flooding into his daughter's cheeks. "You know very well, my dear, that you dislike people calling you Melly. I'm inclined to think that neither Melly nor Addy is as lovely or befitting as the names your mother and I chose for you both. You'd perhaps benefit from the rewards of a more gracious behavior, Melora, if you wouldn't deliberately go out of your way to antagonize your sister as much as you do, especially when you know Adriana detests that particular appellation."

"Are you saying … I'm not very gracious, Papa?" the petite beauty questioned hesitantly.

"I'm sure Sir Harold thinks you are. Otherwise he wouldn't have asked you to marry him. Still, there are times when you can be more than a little nettlesome to your younger sister." As much as he had bitten his tongue to keep from challenging hissecond daughter in what had obviously become a sensitive area, he could no longer refrain from asking. "Did we coddle you so much before Adriana was born that you couldn't bear to give up what may've become a coveted niche in the family? Should I think you're resentful of her because she's now the youngest?"

"Oh, Papa, how could you even imagine such a thing!"

"I do that on occasion when you seem the most spiteful, but please forgive me if I'm mistaken. I'm only trying to find some rationale for your occasional shrewishness. In any case, we'll hear no more of it. From now on, you'll refrain from calling your sister by anything other than what your mother and I do."

Somewhat chagrined that she had been reprimanded in front of one who, in her eyes, would always be a contender for her parents' affection, Melora turned an outrageously smug smile upon Adriana, unable to resist using an address both their parents were inclined to use fairly often with each of them. "Dear child, how you do get into a snit over nothing!"

"Melora," Christina said in a softly muted tone, instantly claiming that one's attention. Becoming the recipient of her daughter's somewhat horrified, questioning stare, the older woman shook her head infinitesimally.

It was a silent communication between parent and daughter, nothing more, nothing less, and yet Melora seemed to shrivel in mortification, for nothing seemed more shaming to her than realizing she had displeased her mother.

Melora blinked away a start of tears as she rose and went to Adriana's chair. Leaning down, she wrapped her arms around her younger sister's shoulders. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I was being peevish. Will you forgive me?"

"Of course." Lifting a smile, Adriana reached for her sibling's hand and gently squeezed it. "As you well know, I get that way at times, too, and must be chided."

The two women laughed, and the tensions were eased enormously as their parents joined them.